Mohinder, Bennet, phone, sex, might not be what you expect. 386 words. PG-13.
fantasticpants said it was a masterpiece and I should post it, but I'm firm in my belief that she was being sarcastic. Still, please blame her. ETA: and
nervous_girl, too, because she originally put this thought in my mind.
The voice speaking into his ear was hushed, hasty, with an added note of desperation to its usual smoothness. "Call me," it said.
Bennet looked up from the lamb chop on his plate. Sandra, sitting across from him, raised an eyebrow. Mr. Muggles lapped a bit of butter from her finger. Bennet smiled and held a hand over his cell phone.
"Excuse me," he said. Three pairs of eyes followed him as he left the dinner table. "What's the matter?" he spoke into the phone when he was safely out of earshot in the hall.
"Call me," Mohinder repeated, now with a touch of annoyance. Bennet imagined the roll of the eyes that probably accompanied the words.
"What are you talking about, you're calling me."
"I'm calling you on the hotel phone." There was a pause, and what Bennet interpreted as a mix of a sigh, a gulp, and shifting of clothing, as if to adjust a jacket or a shirt collar. "Call my cell."
The urgency in Mohinder's voice goaded Bennet to the living room, where he picked up the receiver of the stationary phone. "Are you in trouble?" Without waiting for an answer he began to call the number he had memorized.
"No," was the simple reply, though it was followed by a long, shuddering exhale. "I set it to vibrate."
An outrageous idea flashed like lightening behind Bennet's eyes. "Oh my God, you didn't--" While his brain screeched to a halt, his finger autonomously pushed the last two digits.
Bennet silently cursed muscle memory as his ear was filled with sudden gasps and pants, Mohinder's voice breaking into squeals that pierced his ears repeatedly and made him wince. Still he waited, patiently, until the sound in his ear turned to small moans, then subsided and settled into breathing that was just slightly louder and faster than normal.
"You know, you could just have called the cell from the hotel phone yourself."
Mohinder chuckled lightly, still a little out of breath. "Not half as fun. Besides, I like your voice. Enjoy your dinner."
With that he hung up, and Bennet was left glaring poker-faced at the two phones in his hands. "I'll have to remember never to borrow anything from that man," he said to no one before returning to the dinner table.