![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dontwantmebackTitle: Sexytimes Part Forty-Three - Mike/Molly
Fandom: Heroes/Glee
Pairing: Mike Chang/Molly Walker
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Length: 526 words
After the resistance lost Monica, it was decided she needed to be replaced. Which was how Molly found herself in Chicago, sitting quietly in the back of a performance hall watching group of dancers rehearse. He was among them. Michael Chang. His abilities so raw and undiscovered he probably didn't even realise he had them. Molly had the inside scoop, though. Someone who could identify people like them, someone who found their faces, and her own abilities that had brought her there. Mike Chang might not have known he was special, but the resistance did and they wanted his help.
It was surprisingly easy to convince him to join when she had the opportunity to approach him. He'd noticed something different about the way he learned, he told her, thought it might be an ability ever since their existence had become public. IT wasn't something he couldn't hide, though, like a lot of them. He could make mistakes on purpose, not show off when he learned something by accident, and people would never know the difference. And he hated seeing the way people like her, people like them, were treated like monsters, like villains; he wanted to help.
They became fast friends, enjoying the way their names fit together and sharing a sense of humour that no one else really got. It was because they were foreign kids, Mike gave as an explanation, even though Molly was as white as white got and Mike had never even been out of the country. It was their foreign sensibilities, he said, and Molly laughed as she agreed. There was little chance for them to work together, few assignments that needed both their skills. So they spent time together outside of that. They sat in dimly lit resistance quarters and played cards. Or she taught him the Indian dances she had studied as a girl, nowhere near good at them and half the time she just made things up on the spot because he wouldn't know the difference, and he showed her the moves he had picked up at school. Or they just sat and talked about what they wished the world looked like, what they hoped it could be one day when they were done fighting.
Molly felt extremely rebellious when she kissed him first. Again when she took charge and announced they should have sex, was more embarrassed than she thought possible when Mike just looked confused.
"I mean, only if you want to, obviously."
He agreed, though, and nervous, inexperienced as she was, Molly was determined to just go for it. They could be captured by the government any day, killed any day, and she'd decided it would suck if that happened and she'd never at least experienced the things most girls had long before. And Mike was nice, he was sweet and he was good and he was her friend who she trusted.
Except she barely got past taking her shirt off before it seemed like a stupid idea after all and she was pushing Mike away amid mumbled apologies, dashed from the room without even taking the time to put her top back on.
Fandom: Heroes/Glee
Pairing: Mike Chang/Molly Walker
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Length: 526 words
After the resistance lost Monica, it was decided she needed to be replaced. Which was how Molly found herself in Chicago, sitting quietly in the back of a performance hall watching group of dancers rehearse. He was among them. Michael Chang. His abilities so raw and undiscovered he probably didn't even realise he had them. Molly had the inside scoop, though. Someone who could identify people like them, someone who found their faces, and her own abilities that had brought her there. Mike Chang might not have known he was special, but the resistance did and they wanted his help.
It was surprisingly easy to convince him to join when she had the opportunity to approach him. He'd noticed something different about the way he learned, he told her, thought it might be an ability ever since their existence had become public. IT wasn't something he couldn't hide, though, like a lot of them. He could make mistakes on purpose, not show off when he learned something by accident, and people would never know the difference. And he hated seeing the way people like her, people like them, were treated like monsters, like villains; he wanted to help.
They became fast friends, enjoying the way their names fit together and sharing a sense of humour that no one else really got. It was because they were foreign kids, Mike gave as an explanation, even though Molly was as white as white got and Mike had never even been out of the country. It was their foreign sensibilities, he said, and Molly laughed as she agreed. There was little chance for them to work together, few assignments that needed both their skills. So they spent time together outside of that. They sat in dimly lit resistance quarters and played cards. Or she taught him the Indian dances she had studied as a girl, nowhere near good at them and half the time she just made things up on the spot because he wouldn't know the difference, and he showed her the moves he had picked up at school. Or they just sat and talked about what they wished the world looked like, what they hoped it could be one day when they were done fighting.
Molly felt extremely rebellious when she kissed him first. Again when she took charge and announced they should have sex, was more embarrassed than she thought possible when Mike just looked confused.
"I mean, only if you want to, obviously."
He agreed, though, and nervous, inexperienced as she was, Molly was determined to just go for it. They could be captured by the government any day, killed any day, and she'd decided it would suck if that happened and she'd never at least experienced the things most girls had long before. And Mike was nice, he was sweet and he was good and he was her friend who she trusted.
Except she barely got past taking her shirt off before it seemed like a stupid idea after all and she was pushing Mike away amid mumbled apologies, dashed from the room without even taking the time to put her top back on.