It's 1:22 on a Wednesday afternoon when Mohinder unlocks the apartment. "Be it ever so dilapidated," he jokes, dropping his keys on the counter.

"Hey, it's bedpan free," Matt tells him, following him inside. "That makes it the ritz to me." He reaches out, catching Mohinder's hand by the wrist. "Besides, the concierge is really hot."

Mohinder chuckles, letting Matt swing him around into an embrace. "Matthew," he warns.

"You realize, Mohinder, I've never actually kissed you standing up?" Matt asks innocently. "You're shorter than I thought."

"Hmm, you being vertical helps matters there." Mohinder says. "Now, about the kissing -- "

"Right, the kissing," Matt agrees, watching Mohinder's mouth. Mohinder swallows, hardening. "Then the fucking. God, I really want to get to the fucking."

"Matt," Mohinder sighs. "You are fresh out of hospital, you are supposed to be recuperating."

"Oh I am, you can't believe how much I'm looking forward to the sponge bath," Matt nods. "Really, after Bertha the Destroyer, I need a good one." He winks. "Wanna play doctor?"

"You know, that joke really does get old."

"Uh huh," Matt bumps hips with him. "That's why you're all raring to go, right? Come on, Mohinder, we can call it physio-therapy."

"Your legs are fine," Mohinder points out.

"Not my legs that I was talking about," Matt leers, leaning in to kiss him.

Lech, Mohinder thinks, making him laugh.

"Absolutely," Matt promises, mumbling against Mohinder's mouth. "You have any idea how much you've tortured me?"

Mohinder thinks of the kisses they shared in the hospital, near-chaste pecks stolen in furtive darts. He fell in love with Matt Parkman through those kisses, the mischevious grin he always wore afterward, the way his fingers lingered on Mohinder's. He thinks the time they have stretched out before them is an embarrassment of riches. "I assure you the feeling was mutual," he says.

"So I hear," Matt winks. "Really Mohinder, I had no idea you were that limber. Can't wait to find out."

"Oh, you'll wait a little longer," Mohinder promises. "You are going straight to bed."

"That was my plan," Matt nods. He palms Mohinder through his pants, rubbing until Mohinder can't stop the moan. "It's a good plan."

Mohinder rocks forward, trying to remember why he should be arguing. "It's a terrible plan."

"No, it is a very good plan that involves orgasms, nakedness, and maybe snacks of the sugary sweet variety." Matt grins, fingers unzipping Mohinder's pants. "We'll need the empty calories."

Mohinder groans, thumping his head back against the cupboard as Matt's fingers find their target and wrap around his cock. "Matt," he says, hands grabbing blindly for him.

"Yes, Mohinder?" Matt says, smiling sweetly.

"You are not going to win this one," Mohinder promises weakly. "You are not."

Matt squeezes just so, and Mohinder might just be whimpering. Telepath; he fell in love with a telepath. He thinks this might be the greatest mistake of his life. "I'm utterly doomed."

"Probably," Matt agrees. "But hey, I'm going to have to pay attention to the Discovery channel now." He grins and leans in, biting that spot on Mohinder's neck. The one that makes him yelp and arch. "I fell in love with a geneticist, I need to have some clue what you're talking about."

His fingers twist, squeeze, and Mohinder jerks, coming hard. His vision whites out and he groans Matt's name, pressing his face against Matt's shoulder.

When he can think again, before he can speak, he responds, Not if you keep doing that you don't.

"Aww, did I break your brain?" Matt teases, kissing his neck. "Just wait until I get you in bed."

"Bed," he agrees, "yes, we could do with some rest."

Matt tugs him forward. "It's cute how you think there's sleep involved."

Mohinder had good intentions, really he did. He listened to the doctor, he knows all the things Matt is and isn't to do.

Unfortunately, his good intentions have been beaten bloody by his baser instincts.

He'll feel sorry about that later. Perhaps.

He's considering it.

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