Title: Interlude
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Eden/Mohinder
Spoilers: Up to and including "Homecoming."
Summary: Eden ponders the future while getting it on with Mohinder.
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It began with a blunt kiss and quickly progressed to clothes being pulled off, and soon the laptop with all of Chandra Suresh's work was shoved aside to make room on the desk. Mohinder lay flat on his back with Eden straddling him, her pale white curves a stark contrast with his slender, deep brown limbs. Both were breathless and naked and sweating, and Eden's breasts bounced up and down in time with Mohinder's thrusts, his dick stretching her and filling her and making her throw her head back with a heedless cry of pleasure.
This was not what Mr. Bennett had sent her here to do. But his orders had grown irrelevant, Eden decided; he had vastly overestimated the risk posed by the younger Dr. Suresh. Mohinder shared Chandra's zealous intellect, but little else. Where his father was decisive, Mohinder vacillated. Where his father advanced with brutal certainty, Mohinder flew in circles. Where his father had a heart of stone, Mohinder was plagued by self-doubt.
In her old life, Eden might have found his weaknesses contemptible, but now strangely she did not. Mohinder was unlike most other people she knew: not like her family with their pitiless hearts, not like the Haitian with his impregnable silence, not like Mr. Bennett with his cold whiplike decisions. Chandra Suresh might have been a ruthless bastard, but he'd apparently been a protective ruthless bastard: he'd done a fine job sheltering his son in the ivory tower. For Mohinder, questions and deliberation and doubt were as natural as breathing, not the luxuries they had always been in Eden's world.
Even now, fucking her, he was the same - exploring, thinking, testing, wondering. There was method as Mohinder's elegant brown fingers slid along her body, his dark eyes intent and alert to her reactions. Eden briefly considered using her Voice to tell him what to do, but she still had never brought herself to use it on him, and didn't like the idea of starting now. And besides, she realized with a sharp gasp, there was fun in letting him discover things all on his own.
Mohinder flashed a smile at her, looking inordinately pleased with himself; Eden laughed, a warm throaty noise, and tightened around his cock. He moaned in response and bucked harder beneath her, gripping her ass to keep her balanced atop him. They were both close now. Eden rolled her hips harder against Mohinder's, deaf to her own increasingly frantic gasps, oblivious to everything except the wild tingling pleasure that surged through her skin. And then for a long minute Eden closed her eyes and stopped thinking, and there was only orgasm singing through her body.
When she opened her eyes, Mohinder's expression was something like awe. But desire still saturated his sharp dark features, and his breath was shaky and ragged. He himself was precariously close to the edge, and despite Eden's reluctance to use her Voice with him, she could not resist just this once.
"Come," she commanded, and Mohinder was helpless as his body obeyed. A sharp "Oh!" broke from his lips, his face contorted by a violent relief. His fingers locked around her hips, pulling her down while he thrust up fiercely inside her.
After a breathless moment, his movements began to subside, and Eden rolled away. A warm pleasant ache remained between her legs; impulsively she bent down and planted a rough kiss on his forehead. A warm, hazy smile spread across his face.
Eden offered him a tight smile in return, one that did not reach her eyes. This - whatever it was - wouldn't last long. Mohinder was going back to India to scatter his father's ashes, and contrary to what her heart and Mr. Bennett's orders might demand, Eden hoped he would stay there. With any luck Mohinder would live out his days teaching genetics in Madras, tucked away from agendas and superpowers and secret organizations. He would likely never know what had happened to his father, but neither would he know how narrowly he had avoided the same fate. An intellectual did not belong in a world of mercenaries.
Later Eden would watch from a high window as Mohinder boarded a taxicab, passenger instead of driver for once. She would watch it crawl up the busy street, melting into the anonymous sea of Manhattan's traffic, her wide dark eyes fixed on a single point on the horizon long after it had disappeared. And Eden's relief would sear her to the very core.
-end-