Ficlet: Rose Colored Glasses [1/1] Matt/Mohinder
Title: Rose Colored Glasses
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: G
Summary: Domesticity in one scene.
Disclaimer: Completely made up and making no money.
Author’s Notes: For distaff_exile, who requested warm fuzzies for the holiday ficlet run. I do believe this shall suffice. And slightly for amazonqueenkate, who will know why.
On Matt’s day off, Molly comes home from school, having been delivered by one of the other parents in the class, sits at the kitchen table and watches him stare at his case notes. Matt pretends not to notice her while she watches him, head cocked to the side like a particularly large parakeet.
“Yes?” He asks, after three minutes of nothing but her staring and his re-reading the same line in his notes over and over again.
“There’s a kid in my class who’s dyslexic.”
Matt’s stomach suddenly knots itself up tight, and he has to remind himself that this is his daughter, and not some dick kid from back in his junior high days. He puts down his case notes, he folds his hands on the table top, and he gives Molly his attention. “Oh, yeah?”
“He wears pink sunglasses to help him read,” and then she’s reaching into her backpack and pulling out a pair of semi-funky, gold-rimmed sunglasses. They have pink lenses, and Molly puts them on the table in front of Matt.
Matt looks at them and considers his options. He’s curious as to when she found the time to go out and buy the things. He wonders if he needs to explain to Mrs. Soto that ‘please bring Molly straight home’ actually means ‘please bring Molly straight home, or we’re liable to get very overprotective’. Rather than giving Molly the third degree, he picks up the glasses and slips them on. “Well?”
Molly giggles and jumps up from her chair and runs over to him to get the view from no more than a foot from his face. “See if they help!” She’s thrilled with herself, no doubt, and Matt lifts his notebook to eye-level accordingly.
The words just look like words, and he still can’t tell if he’s written an ‘e’ or an ‘i’ without a dot to denote it. He puts down his case notes, takes off the sunglasses and gives Molly a smile. “I’m not sure,” he says, because he and Mohinder are determined to be as honest as they possibly can with her. “But I’ll keep trying with them.”
“Okay!” And Molly throws herself at him in a hug that would be rib-cracking if she were big enough to get her arms around him. He hugs her back and kisses the top of her head.
“Homework?” He feels the face Molly makes against his shoulder, and it makes him laugh. “Come on, you can do it at the table with me.”
“Fine,” she says, in the long-suffering way of fifth-graders everywhere who have come to the realization that they’re stuck with homework from now until the end of high school. She sets out her math book and her paper and pencil and gets a glass of milk before sitting down and getting started. Matt’s forever amazed at the way she can concentrate like multiplication and division are the most important things in the world. It reminds him of Mohinder, and that makes him smile.
He settles back with his notes, sunglasses on after Molly gives him a look, and he’s three pages past the mysterious possible ‘e’ when Mohinder opens the door, slips his bag over his head, and stops still at the sight of Matt in pink sunglasses.
“John Lennon called,” Mohinder deadpans as he kisses Molly on the head. “He wants his sunglasses back.”
Matt grins and stands to kiss Mohinder hello. “Molly got them for me, to help me read.”
“Ah,” is all Mohinder says as he toes off his shoes and walks into the kitchen. “And are they helping?”
“I don’t know yet,” Matt admits as he takes a pan from the cupboard space by the sink and puts it on the stove. “But I told her I’d try them out.” The smile Mohinder gives him almost makes him blush. Matt’s not used to the kind of pure affection Mohinder radiates, like everything Matt does is equal parts endearing and noble.
“You’re a good father,” Mohinder murmurs, leaning in to pull the sunglasses off Matt’s face. He tucks them securely into Matt’s shirt pocket and moves in for a slow, warm kiss that makes every part of Matt’s body want to reach out and grab Mohinder.
“Eeewww,” Molly says with great exaggeration. “You know, nobody else’s parents act like you two.”
“That’s because nobody else’s parents are as awesome as us,” Matt says, leaning in for another kiss from Mohinder.
“Yeah, sure,” Molly says and rolls her eyes. “When you two are done being gross, I need help with my math.”
Matt kisses Mohinder one more time, because sometimes it’s fun to be the parent who makes their kid squirm, and then he’s stepping away to look over Molly’s shoulder and walk her through checking her work. He puts on the glasses when they hit the word problems, and he pretends like he doesn’t hear Mohinder humming “All You Need is Love”, as they set the table for dinner.
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Matt/Mohinder
Rating: G
Summary: Domesticity in one scene.
Disclaimer: Completely made up and making no money.
Author’s Notes: For distaff_exile, who requested warm fuzzies for the holiday ficlet run. I do believe this shall suffice. And slightly for amazonqueenkate, who will know why.
On Matt’s day off, Molly comes home from school, having been delivered by one of the other parents in the class, sits at the kitchen table and watches him stare at his case notes. Matt pretends not to notice her while she watches him, head cocked to the side like a particularly large parakeet.
“Yes?” He asks, after three minutes of nothing but her staring and his re-reading the same line in his notes over and over again.
“There’s a kid in my class who’s dyslexic.”
Matt’s stomach suddenly knots itself up tight, and he has to remind himself that this is his daughter, and not some dick kid from back in his junior high days. He puts down his case notes, he folds his hands on the table top, and he gives Molly his attention. “Oh, yeah?”
“He wears pink sunglasses to help him read,” and then she’s reaching into her backpack and pulling out a pair of semi-funky, gold-rimmed sunglasses. They have pink lenses, and Molly puts them on the table in front of Matt.
Matt looks at them and considers his options. He’s curious as to when she found the time to go out and buy the things. He wonders if he needs to explain to Mrs. Soto that ‘please bring Molly straight home’ actually means ‘please bring Molly straight home, or we’re liable to get very overprotective’. Rather than giving Molly the third degree, he picks up the glasses and slips them on. “Well?”
Molly giggles and jumps up from her chair and runs over to him to get the view from no more than a foot from his face. “See if they help!” She’s thrilled with herself, no doubt, and Matt lifts his notebook to eye-level accordingly.
The words just look like words, and he still can’t tell if he’s written an ‘e’ or an ‘i’ without a dot to denote it. He puts down his case notes, takes off the sunglasses and gives Molly a smile. “I’m not sure,” he says, because he and Mohinder are determined to be as honest as they possibly can with her. “But I’ll keep trying with them.”
“Okay!” And Molly throws herself at him in a hug that would be rib-cracking if she were big enough to get her arms around him. He hugs her back and kisses the top of her head.
“Homework?” He feels the face Molly makes against his shoulder, and it makes him laugh. “Come on, you can do it at the table with me.”
“Fine,” she says, in the long-suffering way of fifth-graders everywhere who have come to the realization that they’re stuck with homework from now until the end of high school. She sets out her math book and her paper and pencil and gets a glass of milk before sitting down and getting started. Matt’s forever amazed at the way she can concentrate like multiplication and division are the most important things in the world. It reminds him of Mohinder, and that makes him smile.
He settles back with his notes, sunglasses on after Molly gives him a look, and he’s three pages past the mysterious possible ‘e’ when Mohinder opens the door, slips his bag over his head, and stops still at the sight of Matt in pink sunglasses.
“John Lennon called,” Mohinder deadpans as he kisses Molly on the head. “He wants his sunglasses back.”
Matt grins and stands to kiss Mohinder hello. “Molly got them for me, to help me read.”
“Ah,” is all Mohinder says as he toes off his shoes and walks into the kitchen. “And are they helping?”
“I don’t know yet,” Matt admits as he takes a pan from the cupboard space by the sink and puts it on the stove. “But I told her I’d try them out.” The smile Mohinder gives him almost makes him blush. Matt’s not used to the kind of pure affection Mohinder radiates, like everything Matt does is equal parts endearing and noble.
“You’re a good father,” Mohinder murmurs, leaning in to pull the sunglasses off Matt’s face. He tucks them securely into Matt’s shirt pocket and moves in for a slow, warm kiss that makes every part of Matt’s body want to reach out and grab Mohinder.
“Eeewww,” Molly says with great exaggeration. “You know, nobody else’s parents act like you two.”
“That’s because nobody else’s parents are as awesome as us,” Matt says, leaning in for another kiss from Mohinder.
“Yeah, sure,” Molly says and rolls her eyes. “When you two are done being gross, I need help with my math.”
Matt kisses Mohinder one more time, because sometimes it’s fun to be the parent who makes their kid squirm, and then he’s stepping away to look over Molly’s shoulder and walk her through checking her work. He puts on the glasses when they hit the word problems, and he pretends like he doesn’t hear Mohinder humming “All You Need is Love”, as they set the table for dinner.