Fic: Stars Above (Heroes)
“Oh my god.”
“Relax,” laughs Nathan, wrapping his arm more securely around Mohinder’s waist. “I’m not going to drop you.”
“Really?” Mohinder gasps, “because it feels like you have already.” The night air is cold, and the breeze is a lot stiffer from up here. Mohinder shivers, involuntarily, but he keeps his eyes squeezed shut - no way is he looking down.
“C’mon.” Nathan’s hand strokes his cheek. “Open your eyes.”
Mohinder imagines slipping from Nathan’s grasp and tumbling down to a bitter, bloody end on the pavement of New York City. Actually, statistically speaking, he’s much more likely to die of a heart attack on the way down oh god oh god oh god.
“Mohinder,” and Nathan’s laughing again. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
The world rotates abruptly, and Mohinder’s hands clench on Nathan’s shoulders - but no, they aren’t falling, it’s just now Nathan is on his back, Mohinder straddling his waist, supported in midair by Nathan’s body.
The lights of the city spread below them as far as Mohinder can see; the sky is mostly dark above, with a scattering of stars - actual stars - showing through. Lights, above and below, and the two of them suspended between.
“Nathan, it’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, it is,” says Nathan, softly, but he’s not looking at the city; he’s looking at Mohinder.
Mohinder feels an unaccustomed warmth rise to his skin. “Nathan,” he begins, but the world spins, again, and then Nathan is above Mohinder, holding Mohinder in the cradle of his arms. Mohinder tries to breathe, tries not to remember that there’s a wide, yawning abyss below him.
Nathan nuzzles his neck, pressing a light kiss. “Can you imagine,” he murmurs, “what it would be like to fuck you up here?”
Mohinder shivers, this time definitely not from the cold.
“You ache for it, don’t you, Mohinder? You ache for everything.”
“Nathan,” Mohinder begins.
“Sssh.” Nathan kisses him, once, then again, long and slow, and it’s amazing, just the two of them, wrapped around each other, in the sky. “We’re flying, Mohinder,” and Nathan smiles. “We’re flying, and I have you, and what’s better than that?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” breathes Mohinder, “maybe winning the Presidential election in a few hours?”
An intense look passes behind Nathan’s eyes, and Mohinder feels his legs move up around Nathan’s waist, feels himself harden against the seam of his jeans.
“You’re coming with me,” Nathan tells him. “To the White House.”
“If you win,” corrects Mohinder.
“Oh, I’ll win,” says Nathan. “I’ll be the leader of the free world,” and Nathan spins them, in the air, way too fast for Mohinder’s comfort.
“Nathan!” protests Mohinder, the vertigo returning full-force. They stumble down, on the balcony outside Nathan’s hotel room, and Mohinder is shaking so much, from adrenaline, that he sits right there, against the sliding door to the hotel room.
“You’ll be right beside me, Mohinder,” whispers Nathan, guiding Mohinder into another kiss.
“I think you mean your wife will be right beside you,” says Mohinder, turning away.
Nathan sighs, in vague irritation. “Someday,” he says, “it won’t be like this.”
“Won’t be like what?”
“Human,” says Nathan. “We’re more than that, we’re better than that.”
“Are you all right?” asks Mohinder, cautiously.
Nathan shrugs. “Just waxing philosophical, I guess,” he says, shortly, already dropping the conversation. “Let’s go downstairs, see how the party is going.”
“All right.” Mohinder stands, cautiously, but before he follows Nathan inside, his eyes are drawn up, to the sky. Hardly any stars are visible from down here, and Mohinder bites his lip, turning away. Already, he wants to fly again. One taste wasn’t enough; he knows he’ll want it, now, again and again and again.
As Mohinder returns to the warm hotel room, the chill already fading from his skin, he wishes, desperately, that Nathan won’t win the election.
“Relax,” laughs Nathan, wrapping his arm more securely around Mohinder’s waist. “I’m not going to drop you.”
“Really?” Mohinder gasps, “because it feels like you have already.” The night air is cold, and the breeze is a lot stiffer from up here. Mohinder shivers, involuntarily, but he keeps his eyes squeezed shut - no way is he looking down.
“C’mon.” Nathan’s hand strokes his cheek. “Open your eyes.”
Mohinder imagines slipping from Nathan’s grasp and tumbling down to a bitter, bloody end on the pavement of New York City. Actually, statistically speaking, he’s much more likely to die of a heart attack on the way down oh god oh god oh god.
“Mohinder,” and Nathan’s laughing again. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
The world rotates abruptly, and Mohinder’s hands clench on Nathan’s shoulders - but no, they aren’t falling, it’s just now Nathan is on his back, Mohinder straddling his waist, supported in midair by Nathan’s body.
The lights of the city spread below them as far as Mohinder can see; the sky is mostly dark above, with a scattering of stars - actual stars - showing through. Lights, above and below, and the two of them suspended between.
“Nathan, it’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, it is,” says Nathan, softly, but he’s not looking at the city; he’s looking at Mohinder.
Mohinder feels an unaccustomed warmth rise to his skin. “Nathan,” he begins, but the world spins, again, and then Nathan is above Mohinder, holding Mohinder in the cradle of his arms. Mohinder tries to breathe, tries not to remember that there’s a wide, yawning abyss below him.
Nathan nuzzles his neck, pressing a light kiss. “Can you imagine,” he murmurs, “what it would be like to fuck you up here?”
Mohinder shivers, this time definitely not from the cold.
“You ache for it, don’t you, Mohinder? You ache for everything.”
“Nathan,” Mohinder begins.
“Sssh.” Nathan kisses him, once, then again, long and slow, and it’s amazing, just the two of them, wrapped around each other, in the sky. “We’re flying, Mohinder,” and Nathan smiles. “We’re flying, and I have you, and what’s better than that?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” breathes Mohinder, “maybe winning the Presidential election in a few hours?”
An intense look passes behind Nathan’s eyes, and Mohinder feels his legs move up around Nathan’s waist, feels himself harden against the seam of his jeans.
“You’re coming with me,” Nathan tells him. “To the White House.”
“If you win,” corrects Mohinder.
“Oh, I’ll win,” says Nathan. “I’ll be the leader of the free world,” and Nathan spins them, in the air, way too fast for Mohinder’s comfort.
“Nathan!” protests Mohinder, the vertigo returning full-force. They stumble down, on the balcony outside Nathan’s hotel room, and Mohinder is shaking so much, from adrenaline, that he sits right there, against the sliding door to the hotel room.
“You’ll be right beside me, Mohinder,” whispers Nathan, guiding Mohinder into another kiss.
“I think you mean your wife will be right beside you,” says Mohinder, turning away.
Nathan sighs, in vague irritation. “Someday,” he says, “it won’t be like this.”
“Won’t be like what?”
“Human,” says Nathan. “We’re more than that, we’re better than that.”
“Are you all right?” asks Mohinder, cautiously.
Nathan shrugs. “Just waxing philosophical, I guess,” he says, shortly, already dropping the conversation. “Let’s go downstairs, see how the party is going.”
“All right.” Mohinder stands, cautiously, but before he follows Nathan inside, his eyes are drawn up, to the sky. Hardly any stars are visible from down here, and Mohinder bites his lip, turning away. Already, he wants to fly again. One taste wasn’t enough; he knows he’ll want it, now, again and again and again.
As Mohinder returns to the warm hotel room, the chill already fading from his skin, he wishes, desperately, that Nathan won’t win the election.