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Before we get into this story, which is actually a collection of little ficlets, I have one warning;

THIS IS YAOI. MALEMALE ROMANCE.

Thank you! Also, be aware that these stories will usually have nothing to do with each other, and some may even be two retellings of the same event.


Prompt 27- Parent

For a while now, Matt Parkman had believed he was going to be a parent. He had spent hours thinking over the idea that he had been a part of bringing a new life into the world- sure, Janice was going to do most of the work, but Matt had helped. He wondered whether he should start saving a college fund, whether he could begin looking for a good preschool, when he could start teaching the child about football.

And then Janice had to step into his hospital room with that look on her face, that look that just made him itch to read her mind and figure out what she was thinking. She didn’t say a word, so she obviously expected him to. The second after he did, though, he wished he hadn’t. “What?” he asked loudly, mouth dry.

She shook her head helplessly. “Matt, I’m so sorry.” He wished he believed her sincerity. “The baby’s not yours.”

Tightness welled up in Matt’s chest- he wasn’t sure if it was the pain of the bullet wounds or the pain of what he was hearing. “What?” he said again.

Janice took a step towards him, hand outstretched, but the horrible blank look on her face made him want to push her away. So push her away he did. She stared at him. “Matt…”

“Get out.”

“Matt, please. I-”

“Get out!”

She cast him one more helpless glance before obeying, leaving him alone in that white hospital room. In that moment, Matt hated himself. He wasn’t going to be a father after all. It was all a lie, some big trick that fate had decided to play on him. Maybe it would have been better if he had actually died that night…

But Matt Parkman was wrong in believing that it was a cruel joke, because fate had grander designs for him. Those designs involved the young girl who thought of him as her hero, and the Indian doctor who had saved him that night against Sylar. He moved in with Molly and Mohinder after he had recovered, and completed the trio of M’s.

And quite suddenly, Matt was a parent. Molly adopted him and Mohinder in the blink of an eye, treasuring them just as she had treasured her old parents. Matt found himself doing household chores he had only thought of- picking up his little girl’s clothes, dropping her off and picking her up from school, handing her a bowl from the top shelf which she couldn’t reach. They were so close that Matt Parkman and Molly Walker might as well have been father and daughter.

It was in that time, too, that Mohinder became a real part of Matt’s life. At first, they had viewed each other as necessary roommates, each trying to take care of and protect Molly. Then, something shifted, and they became friends, complete with all the friendly brushes of shoulders and smiles meant only for each other.

Even that became something more. When Mohinder walked by, Matt would find himself marveling at the grace of the Indian man, wondering how brown those eyes would be up close, if that hair was really as soft as it looked. He often found himself staring, and sometimes found Mohinder watching him back. After these kinds of occasions, there was usually a lot of frantic blushing and mumbling and bumping into ordinary household objects while trying to get away.

But they drew closer together, and Molly grew into thinking of them not just as her parents, but as her two fathers. Maybe they weren’t married- they weren’t living in Massachusetts, after all- but they were as close as they could get. And Molly wasn’t an idiot, either. She knew that when Mohinder ran a hand subtly over Matt’s hard back, or when Matt played with Mohinder’s hair, that something was going on.

She wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.