Cardboard Car Chases

by darkangelazure

He's smart, kind, brave, handsome and just in a word perfect. I feel like such a schlub. Four bullet wounds and a podge makes me feel ugly and useless, but he looks at me as if I've just kicked him when I say.....

Disclaimer:I don't own any of the characters featured in this fic, it's just a bit of fun, don't sue me!

Title:Cardboard Car Chases

Rating(s):R

Warning(s): Bad language, Angst, Fluffyness.

Summary:He's smart, kind, brave, handsome and just in a word perfect. I feel like such a schlub. Four bullet wounds and a podge makes me feel ugly and useless, but he looks at me as if I've just kicked him when I say...

A/N:This is my first Matt/Mohinder fic!! Super Thank you to my Beta, who is the embodiement of awesomeness lol, thank you so much and as always CommentsLove!!!!

000

I'm not happy.

I'm having beer with one of the smartest men in the world, I'm raising a child with the guy who discovered us "special people". God, that sounds retarded, but he thinks we're fascinating, he calls it "Darwin's theory in motion" - the only reason I remember that is because he said it.

He's smart, kind, brave, handsome and just in a word perfect. I feel like such a schlub. Four bullet wounds and a podge makes me feel ugly and useless, but he looks at me as if I've just kicked him when I say

"I'm such an idiot."

He does, and it's odd to watch, really, how his handsome features ball together in the most thunderous frown I've ever seen. Molly calls me her Hero and her smile lights up the whole room, but something in me knots when he smiles. Not like Molly's smile, but it's his smile, not rainbows and puppies, but it's like a warm fire in winter or the sunset on the beach, it's all grown up and...sexy.

Yeah, I'm a big romantic and I'm drinking beer with a guy I have the hugest crush on since Sandy Peters in 7th grade. She had dark curls as well, but I'm not saying he's a girl...because he's not, no way with the way he drinks and his laugh, all deep and rich. It makes my spine tingle, but at this moment in time I wanna be the beer bottle.

The way his lips suck on it makes my legs feel like jelly, and the way his cheeks are flushing is making me want to kiss them, but I know that if I kissed him, we'd be fucked. Why would he want a dope like me!? I need another beer.

Taking another gulp makes me feel better. It's been a very long day and it's nice that he wanted a night cap with me, but really I'm just glad Molly is at a friend's house. It's good she's got friends, she's a brilliant little girl and she deserves them. Oh great, Starsky and Hutch is on! God, I feel like such a big kid, but the way he's smiling at me makes me want to jump his bones.

His smile is like he's going "awww", but with that hot English accent it would be so corrupted, and you know what? I really don't care. His voice could be screaming at me and I'd get a hard on, just because he's paying so much attention to me, us really. Damn it! My beer's nearly empty. I do want to get shit faced, but what if Molly calls and I can't drive? I won't let him drive even though he's only had one, I just don't want anything to happen, just in case.

It's not like I don't trust him on the road, he an awesome driver. I've watched him drive, force of habit, but also his hands, they're so elegant and...graceful. Yeah, that's the perfect word for them: graceful. God, sometimes I lay awake with the biggest boner ever, thinking about what he could do with those hands, fingers, all hot. Would I suck on them if I could? If I'm being honest, I'd suck and kiss every part of him.

He's watching TV. I can kinda see he's not paying attention to all the cheesy 70's speeches and crashing cardboard box car chases, he looks like he's just relaxing. He looks good relaxed and...oh my God, stop staring you perv! Jeez, I'm an idiot, what if he caught me? Shit! That just makes me nervous, thinking that he could have caught me staring.

Knowing me, I would have started going "Uhhh...oh...umm...sorry", something completely dorky like that, looking like a fish outta water. Someone shoot me now. Oh wait, scratch that, getting shot hurts. I need another beer.

God, having a crush is depressing. Being in love would be worse though. I mean, I'm not sure if I'm in love, it was different with Janice. Yeah, I loved her and she screwed me over, and yeah, that hurt like a bitch, but I know what love feels like. You can't stop thinking about them, you think about what they might be thinking about, or you think about what they would like for dinner, and you can't sleep most of the time, you know, you dream about them as well.

But no, falling in love with him would be a stupid thing to do. I do know you can't just pick and choose who you fall in love with, but there's got to be a line or something that can help out. I mean, I'm not really into the God idea of things, you know. I mean, if God was real, he'd help out a little once in a while...but hey, why am I complaining? I have a daughter that worships me and I worship her because she's just awesome. I live with a guy who's like the embodiment of sex...oh yeah, there's the problem. Shit! I'm staring again and I've nearly finished my beer, I'm surprised he hasn't pulled me on it yet. Well, he can't, he's going to go and get another and...check out that ass!

Ok Parkman, get a grip, watch TV, finish your beer, and really, you don't need another one, so you have to stop. But really, do I want to stop? Well, no, but it'd be for the best if I did. I mean, getting shit faced and saying pathetically " I really, really like you MoMo". Oh God, what if I did call him Mo, that would get me a punch in the face for sure! Anyway, I would never call him Mo, his name is great just the way it is. I like his name, it's kinda hot when he says it on the phone in his hot accent. "Dr. Mohinder Suresh"...well. no kinda about it, I'm usually heading for a cold shower as soon as he's said it. Yeah, his name's hot.

I like the way he says my name as well. I'd like it even more if he moaned it, but I'm not going there...oh, he's back. Oh no, he's brought me one too, oh he's so nice!

OK, he brought you a beer, not a frigging ring, you big girl! But yeah, he doesn't say Matt or Parkman, he calls me Matthew, how cool is that? I mean, no one has ever really called me Matthew. I really don't mind him calling me that because it's his thing, being all proper and stuff, and he's the only person that calls me Matthew, it's his, I'm his. Oh God, I'm in love.

I'm in love with the most handsome, smart, kind, perfect dad and awesome person on this planet, and we're watching Starsky and Hutch together, and oh my God, he's holding my hand, and we have a family and he drinks tea, and you know what?

I'm Happy.

The End