#cursedveil

[a-bloody-god-blog]

"You're so gay"

“What? No I’m-”

Mellon pauses, realizing that he can’t really deny it, can he, considering… that it’s true. Vaska knows that better than anyone. But Mellon is still not sure why Vaska would call him gay like that…

“Well… so are you, you know,” he retorts, crossing his arms. “Really, even if you might fancy girls, you’re probably gayer than I could ever be…”

He begins to smile then as he considers what a good thing that is. “Don’t worry, though. I feel… I feel very gay about you, Vaska. And I’m proud of that!”

[a-bloody-god-blog]

"Happy Valentine's babyyyy~"

“Happy Valentine’s day!” Mellon responded eagerly, having been waiting to say it all evening long. He pulled Vaska in for a kiss. “I love you. You’re not working, or going anywhere or anything at all tonight, are you...?”

Mellon had been excited for the holiday to arrive ever since he realized it was February a few days ago, and he made sure to drop several hints about the date he was planning. He hoped they were picked up on; the thought that Vaska might work tonight made him nervous. It would ruin everything.

“I don’t want you to spend time with anybody else tonight,” he explained, parting from Vaska to get the flowers he’d hidden in the bathtub. He’d picked them all himself, a fact he hoped Vaska would notice. He trespassed into many gardens to create such a lovely bouquet.

“Go out with me!”

[thebloody-king]

*gives Valentine*

Mellon doesn’t even need to read to know what this is, considering what day it is and the amount of hearts on the card. He has received... his first ever valentine. He is clearly a little overwhelmed.

“Oh... O-Okay! I mean, yes! I’ll be your valentine!”

What do valentines do...? Other than go on dates? Surely Vaska doesn’t want to go... on a date...? Mellon covers his face with his hand for a moment before huffing, assuring himself that Vaska doesn’t mean it like that. 

“...Come on,” he orders, taking Vaska’s hand.“I have to make Samuel cook us food that’s shaped like hearts.”

[nightafterlife]

"I love you more than anything."

“I love you, too,” Malcolm replied, placing his hand on top of Vaska’s and pulling him into a hug. “...more than anything.”

There was nothing else that mattered to Malcolm at all, in fact. He had the club, but that was only a project. Something to kill time and stay out of the way. He would have given it up without a second thought if it meant he could have a life with Vaska.

Malcolm pushed the impossible idea from his mind, trying to avoid spoiling a happy moment for once. He pulled back from the hug to look down at Vaska, cupping his face with one hand.

“Nothing has ever made me as happy as you have. You’re... you are the best part of my existence.”

[thebloody-king]

🐕

He quickly adjusted, trying to become a good pillow so that Vaska wouldn’t have to rest his head somewhere else. It was difficult to imagine his shoulder was comfortable, especially with Vaska being bigger than he was.

“You can sleep on me if you want to,” he still offered.

Mellon tried to stay still and quiet, but it was something he did so rarely that he wasn’t sure how. After a moment of fidgeting with his hands in silence, he found himself concentrating on the sound of Vaska’s breathing, steady and slow.

He glanced down at his friend. Vaska was really asleep already... It was odd, how listening to the sound of his own breathing made him nervous, yet listening Vaska’s always had the opposite effect. Mellon rubbed his eyes, then patted Vaska’s head. He carefully moved his friend to a position where they could both sleep.

[a-bloody-god-blog]

"...Hey can you talk to me in your cockney accent? I really like it.."

With how often Americans noticed and complimented him on his English accent, Mellon hoped that he never lost it. The cockney, however, had faded a bit. Both with time and with practice. Mellon still considered it an extension of the poor grammar and vocabulary he’d grown up with, even if no one else had implied as much in many years.

"Ah, you like that...?” Mellon asked, finding it a bit amusing.

Americans just thought all English accents sounded posh, he reminded himself. He cleared his throat, preparing to bring cockney back full force. He tilted his head, unsure what he should say.

“...Well, I would’ve sounded more like this if you met me right off the boat over,” he explained in a much thicker accent than usual, “but no one understood a thing I said, ‘cos I used different words on top of it. D’you like the words too?”

Getting out of the habit of using slang that wouldn’t be understood here and now was something else Mellon had worked on, but he was eager to impress. “I’d keep talking forever just like this if you like it. Anything you want me to say, I’ll say it.”

[a-bloody-god-blog]

"I'm gonna fucking get you."

Mellon stared at the other man for a moment, eyes wide. Get him? What did Vaska mean, all of a sudden? Why would Vaska get him? Should... should he be running?

After failing to decipher any meaning from Vaska’s expression, Mellon cycled through a list of possibilities in his head and landed on ‘it’s just a joke’. He grinned and played along, crossing his arms over himself and quickly scooting to the far end of the couch.

“Noooo!!!” he shouted at a volume that gave no consideration to the neighbors. “No, Vaska, please!! Don’t get me! It’s not right of you to attack me in my pajamas!”

He wasn’t doing a good job at seeming scared at all, since no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get the smile off his face. Mellon waited there to see if Vaska would actually come after him, drawing his knees up prepared to spring from the couch.

[nightafterlife]

"God, you're so handsome, what the fuck."

“‘What the fuck’ I could understand, but handsome...?”

Malcolm couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Handsome’ was never the way he would have described himself at all- now that he was dead less than ever. His gaunt features, colorless skin, the circles around his eyes... he looked more like a zombie than a vampire. No one would ever doubt that he was dead. He knew others saw it too. People stared, sometimes. They found his appearance jarring.

So at first, Malcolm had assumed Vaska just had a thing for creepy guys; it wasn’t uncommon. But while that may have been true, he still meant what he said. It was clear in the way he looked at Malcolm.

Vaska found him not just weirdly sexy, but genuinely handsome. Malcolm couldn’t bring himself to agree, but... he was more happy to hear Vaska say it than he would have expected to be.

“No, I’m just joking... thank you, thank you. You know... I can’t stop looking at you either. Honestly, I can’t work when you’re around. You’ve got the most perfect face, it’s crazy.”

He was quiet then, looking at Vaska. Being looked at right back. He felt something he shouldn’t be feeling, and Vaska felt it too. There was no other reason for a guy to look at his face like that, Malcolm was sure.

He bit his lip. Then he broke eye contact, nodded, and began pouring them both a shot. Malcolm prompted Vaska to drink to his own words: “’What the fuck’, right?”