Title: Gas Station Blues
Author: Veet Voojagig
Pairing: Matt/Ted, Matt/Bennet implied (but only by Ted)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Matt and Ted get out of the white pajamas.
A/N: Written for the rare_heroes Brave New Ship challenge. Inspired by entangled_now.



A well aimed kick sent a rock skittering across the parking lot of the run-down gas station. “Conspicuous,” Ted muttered under his breath. He wondered idly what the consequences of mixing radiation and gasoline were. He decided he didn't want to find out.

Even if he was bored.

“Thank God,” a voice said softly.

Ted glared at his companion. “I wasn't going to, Parkman,” he said. Couldn't he have a bit of privacy in his own head?

Matt shrugged defensively. “He's right, you know,” he said. “We do kind of stand out.” He self consciously adjusted the set of the jacket he'd apparently 'liberated' from The Company's stores. The Primatech logo was really starting to get on his nerves.

Snorting derisively, Ted glanced down at himself. White pajamas. Or whatever they were. “I still say we could tell people we're ninjas,” he said bitingly.

The exasperated look Matt shot at him was nothing compared to the one Bennet had given him when he'd first broached that idea. That one had said, quite plainly, 'No, they'll think you escaped from a mental hospital.' Matt's merely said, 'Idiot.'

Of course, Matt could probably hear the thoughts under the sarcasm.

“He's back,” Parkman announced in a relieved tone.

Ted looked up, and yes, there was Bennet, walking towards them at a steady pace, a pair of Wal-Mart bags clutched in his hands. He drew up to them and thrust the bags at Matt without a word. The former cop glanced into one. He made a vague, noncommittal sound.

“I'll get the bathroom key,” Bennet stated. Everything the man said was a statement, as if anything that left his lips was going to happen just because he said it.

Ted considered it one of his least irritating habits, which said quite a lot, in his opinion.

Clearing his throat to gain his attention, Matt shot him a warning look and jerked his head towards the side of the building. Fine, Ted said silently, injecting as much venom into the short syllable as he possibly could.

Hands balled into fists at his sides, he trudged after the other man. So, when did you decide to be Bennet's bitch? he thought. Matt's steps quickened. What, not listening now? Ted continued, smirking at the man's back.

Matt stopped in front of the door and crossed his arms, his eyes locked somewhere in the distance. Ted leaned against the wall. He felt a laugh rising in his throat. It was an unfamiliar occurrence. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd been this amused by something. The hurt, indignant expression that Matt obviously thought he was hiding was just too good.

He managed to hold it back until Matt turned and glared at him. A grin curled his lips as the other man said, “I heard that last bit, too, you know.”

Ted was prevented from commenting on his sulking by Bennet's return. He scowled at the man. He'd just been beginning to really enjoy himself.

With an exasperated glance at Ted, Matt shifted both bags into one hand so he could take the key that Bennet was holding out. He silently unlocked the door and stepped inside.

“Ted,” Bennet said in that incredibly bland tone of his. He nodded his head sharply towards the door that had just clicked shut behind Matt.

“I'll wait till he gets done.”

Bennet's eyes narrowed the slightest bit. Good. At least he was getting to the man. “We don't have time for that,” Bennet replied. “You're going to get in there now and get changed.”

Silence stretched between them. Both pairs of eyes remained fixed on the other, Bennet's cool and composed, Ted's blazing with stubborn defiance.

The door swung open. “Just get in here, Ted,” Matt said with a sigh.

Of course you take his side. Sure I shouldn't just change out here and let him go in there with you?

“Ted,” Matt said sharply.

Shrugging minutely, Ted followed him into the bathroom. He kept his eyes resolutely away from Matt as the man stripped off his overshirt. He grimaced. Couldn't Bennet have found somewhere more hygienic for them to do this?

For that matter, why couldn't they have just gone to Wal-Mart with him and change there? It's not like anyone would be looking for them there. Because, he answered himself, then Bennet wouldn't have a way to be in total control.

He let his gaze travel around the half of the small room not occupied by a half-naked, or, worse still, a mostly naked Matt Parkman. Chipped paint, dirt everywhere—he wasn't even going to think of what the toilet must be like—and...

Oh, hell no. He moved closer, staring incredulously at the small vending machine. 'Collect all four flavors?' You've gotta be kidding. Who the hell would collect condoms?

The sound of Matt choking reached his ears, but he ignored it as he continued reading. Banana? Seriously? Hey, Parkman, you should go ask Bennet for some quarters. He'd probably love for his dick to taste like bananas while you're sucking him off.

Suddenly Matt's hands were gripping his shirt, forcing him back against the wall. “Look,” he hissed, “I'm getting sick of this. There is nothing going on between me and Bennet. Nothing. We need his help is all.”

“Parkman, get your hands... off me...” The sentence trailed off without the force he'd meant to use as several facts aligned themselves in his mind. Matt had gotten his jeans on, but not his new shirt. The only thing separating the two of them was Ted's very thin white t-shirt. Matt was warm. Very warm.

And it had been a long time since he'd had any real human contact.

Matt took a step back, blushing hotly. Ted absently noticed that Parkman didn't just blush in his cheeks—no, his whole body flushed. He didn't give it much thought, however; he was far too busy taking advantage of the other man's lapsed concentration to push him against the opposite wall. His lips crashed roughly against Parkman's.

A muffled gasp gave him the opening he needed to get his tongue into Matt's mouth. It was a feral kiss, frenzied and desperate, that left Ted breathless and aching for more.

His fingers curled under the wasitband of Matt's jeans, jerking his hips forward. He was pleased to note that he wasn't the only one enjoying this.

Then he groaned loudly—Matt's hand was in his pants, closing around him, his palm rough and hot against his flesh. God, so good...

He scrambled at Matt's fly as he thrust into the man's hand. Might as well return the favor, right?

They worked frantically, punctuating the silence with grunts and groans. The fingers of Ted's free hand dug into Matt's shoulder. He was good at this, knew all the right ways to touch Ted... He threw his head back, panting harshly.

Matt was breathing just as heavily; Ted figured he needed this just as much as he did. Why else would they be doing it? He closed his eyes, concentrating on Matt's hand on him, on keeping his moving on Matt until he had to bite his lip to stifle a cry.

He was glad that he hadn't gotten around to changing yet. These pants weren't fit to wear any longer. He shook off the last of his euphoria and went to serious work on finishing Matt.

It didn't take long at all. He wiped his hand on his pants—after all, they were already soiled, and he was taking them off anyway. He got himself cleaned up and changed without a word, and Matt followed suit.

When they finally emerged, Bennet gave them an inscrutable look. “It would've been quicker if you'd just let him wait,” Matt muttered, and Ted rolled his eyes as he leaned against the door frame. If the man hadn't known what was going on before, he certainly did now. Good one, Parkman.

He met Bennet's eyes, daring him to comment. The man just raised an eyebrow and turned away. Ted stared at his back for a moment, then spoke.

“Hey. Bennet.”

He looked back over his shoulder. “Yes, Ted?” he said levelly.

“Can I have a quarter?”

The expression on Matt's face made it all worth it.