Minute Vacation || Gralloway || January, 2016
MJ: MJ plops on the couch next to Peter and plants his head in his lap.
Peter: "Oh, hi there. Look what fell in my lap." He caressed MJ's jaw with his thumb. "A boyfriend."
MJ: "Just a boyfriend. No one special." He looked up to Peter with one eye.
Peter: "You're right, my apologies." He cleared his throat. "The Boyfriend. The boyfriend to end all boyfriends. My boyfriend," he finished with a grin.
MJ: "Gimmie your face so I can shut it," he laughed.
Peter: Pete laughed and leaned down so he was in kissing range.
MJ: Oh, the strain of having to move a few inches to close the gap! "Hnnnn! Too far!"
Peter: Another laugh. For MJ he would pretzel himself into proper position and kiss those beautiful lips.
MJ: "Oh shit, really?" he laughed before their lips crushed together. "Mmmm," delicious!
Peter: Really, really. But just a short kiss, Pete couldn't bend that way for long.
MJ: "Oh hey, come back," he laughed, chasing after those lips with sudden vigor.
Peter: "If you want more, you're gonna have to come up here."
MJ: Up on his elbows, nearly knocking foreheads with his boyfriend. "What's my prize?"
Peter: "This." Grinning, Pete closed the distance between them and kissed MJ again. Properly.
MJ: His smile faded. There was nothing better than moments like this. He offered his tongue and straightened his back. As much as he wanted to melt into him, that conscious sting told him not to.
Peter: It was taken and savored as Pete slowly leaned back, bringing MJ with him and not stopping until they were both laying down.
MJ: Icy fingers traced from earlobe to chest. He smiled as he squeezed his muscles in both hands, offering the barkeep a massage. "Long day, baby?"
Peter: Pete all but purred in pleasure, stretching luxuriously. "It was busy so it felt short at the time. Feels long now though."
MJ: "If ya get naked, ya can have cold hands everywhere for them burnin' muscles."
Peter: "That's the best thing anyone's told me all day." He sat up and a second later off came his shirt.
MJ: It was only fair to mirror his action, tossing away his jacket and shirt to make up ground. "Anything interestin' happen?"
Peter: Pete gave his appreciation with a happy sigh and lingering look at MJ's chest and abs.
"Kinda. Had a group of tourists come in. Midwestern by the looks of it. They got /sloshed/."
MJ: "They the ones that talk like Canadians?"
Peter: "Yep. And they were the blandest, whitest people you could possibly imagine. They sent their food back like three times because it was 'too spicy'."
MJ: "The hell did ya make? And I beg your pardon I'm white and I like spice."
Peter: "Chicken. It was chicken."
MJ: "Hungarian style, Mexican...?"
Peter: "Fried. Fried chicken. With mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, and cole slaw."
MJ: "What...the fuck?" he laughed.
Peter: "I told you! They kept sending it back. First time Bobby had to make a fresh batch with no cayenne. Still too spicy. Next batch, no pepper. Nope, still too spicy. Yet another batch, no onion powder. Can you guess what they said?"
MJ: "Ah, now it's perfect!" He tried not to laugh. He loved seeing Peter so worked up.
Peter: "Oh no, baby, that would make too much sense. STILL TOO SPICY."
MJ: "How? I've never heard anything like that n'I'm a vampire." Spooky hands.
Peter: "I told you!" he repeated. "Bobby ended up seasoning with a very small amount of salt and they finally accepted it. He said if I ever made him do that again he was going to just come out and pour hot oil on whoever complained."
MJ: "He shoulda told em no substitutions. Did y'all eat what they didn't touch?"
Peter: "It was a big group, didn't wanna lose their business. June took all the 'spicy' batches down to the soup kitchen at the church."
MJ: "Y'all are too nice." His vampire laid back and stretched. Grabby hands. "C'mere."
Peter: "Would've been wrong to throw out perfectly good food." He obeyed immediately, snuggling into MJ's arms.
MJ: Settled in, he began on Peter's shoulders again, squeezing slowly and releasing.
"The bad people are gone, baby. They can't hurt ya anymore."
Peter: It took mere seconds before Pete was melting against MJ with a long sigh. "Thank the good lord. M'exhausted."
MJ: "I swear the more time ya spend with Callum, the more ya sound like him."
Peter: He chuckled. “I’ve known him for years and haven’t picked up his accent. I think I’m safe.”
MJ: "It's startin'. One day you'll be doin' druid stuff."
Peter: “Nah, I need mojo for that.”
MJ: "Ya can do a spell or two. I can show ya some."
Peter: “There are spells you don’t need to be magical to do?”
MJ: "Well, yeah. Ya know witches are humans, right?"
Peter: “Yeah, but they have magic somehow right?”
MJ: "Some. Probably a lot of em. But little spells? Anyone can if they believe."
Peter: He settled in further. “Tell me about these little spells.”
MJ: "Like...a good luck spell. Good luck charms are real. Shit, I think I only know luck stuff. Oh! A basic bitch protection spell. Just keeps people's negative shit at the door. For the most part."
Peter: Pete's shoulders shook with quiet laughter. "Did you just say 'basic bitch protection spell'?"
MJ: "Don't judge me," he grinned.
Peter: "I would never, baby." He resumed his snuggling. "So good luck spells, huh? Will they get me better customers?"
MJ: "I think it's more along the line of, like, findin' a twenty on the ground 'fore ya walk in." He began to massage the back of Peter's neck.
Peter: "Mmmm, we could all use an extra twenty every now and then," he slurred, feeling like he was turning to liquid.
MJ: "Gonna take a nap, baby?"
Peter: "Not sleepy. Just relaxed." He nuzzled MJ's neck. "How was your day?"
MJ: "M'good. Tryin' t'practice an illusion. Work was a breeze."
Peter: “What’s the illusion?”
MJ: "Ya wanna see?"
Peter: Pete lifted his head and nodded, smiling. “Yeah.”
MJ: "Right now?"
Peter: “Is it scary?”
MJ: "Na, na. S'just you're comfy," he laughed.
Peter: “I can get comfy again. I wanna see the illusion.”
MJ: "S'a little thing. Ya got a candle?"
Peter: “Uhhh, yeah. I think so.” He untangled himself from MJ and opened a drawer on one of the side tables, finding a tea light. “Will this do?”
MJ: "Uh, yeah! Never tried on a little guy." He learned forward, hunched against his knees as he concentrated on the object. His focus lay squarely on the wick. He could see what he wanted; the key ingredient to glamour was belief, his sire had told him over and over again. A snake on Peter's counter had been easy enough.
Slowly, he waved his hand over the tea candle. A small, still flame revealed.
Peter: As the candle lit, so too did Pete's face. "It's not really lit, is it? Will it feel hot if I touch it?"
MJ: "Are you afraid of it?"
Peter: He shook his head. "Not at all."
MJ: "It won't be hot unless I make it that way."
Peter: "That is so cool. Do the illusions work on anyone who sees them or can you target one person in particular?"
MJ: "I dunno. Everyone that sees it I think." The little flame blinked out of existence.
Peter: Pete nodded, smiling. "Good job."
MJ: "Not as freaky as a snake," he grinned.
Peter: "That snake was scary as fuck."
MJ: "It didn't even move!"
Peter: "Snakes don't have to move to be scary!"
MJ: "Well, now you'll never believe anything," he smirked.
Peter: “Sure I will.” He snuggled in again.
MJ: Back down he went, accepting of his lovely burden. "Hey, ya wanna do that dinner thing later?"
Peter: He nodded. “Yep. Dinner is good.”
MJ: "Whatcha want, spicy chicken?"
Peter: "Mm, yes. And fried rice. And those cream cheese things."
MJ: "Cream cheese things?"
Peter: "The fried ones."
MJ: "I have no idea baby, but we're gonna get ya some."
Peter: "You're such a good provider," Pete said with a smile, lifting his head to kiss MJ.
MJ: "Yes indeed." Two kisses. "Okay. I know where. That place that does catfish. An hour?"
Peter: Two? Might as well make it three.
Pete nodded. "Hour sounds good. So does fried catfish. I just want all the fried things."
MJ: "Spicy. Don't forget spicy."
Peter: “Mmm, yes. Spicy fried things and a beautiful, amazing boyfriend for company.”
MJ: "Oh my god. Close your eyes and shut up."
Peter: Pete laughed and snuggled in. “Beautiful, beautiful boyfriend. So stunning and loving and talented.”
MJ: "Oh yes, tell me more. Lavish me with your words."
Peter: "And attentive and funny and kind and smart. The complete package. Superman and Captain America should be jealous."
MJ: "Superman? Captain America better watch out, but Superman?"
Peter: "Yep. You'd make a better Superman."
MJ: "I can't fly. Flyin’ is the best part!"
Peter: "There's got to be a spell that lets you fly."
MJ: "There probably is. There's one for everything I bet."
Peter: "There's gotta be. Even the limited stuff I've seen is insane."
MJ: "What all have ya seen?"
Peter: "Really just the things you and Callum can do."
MJ: "That's it?"
Peter: "Pretty much. I didn't even know magic was real until I met Callum."
MJ: "What was the first shit ya saw?"
Peter: "He'd accidentally sliced his hand open working in his garden and was healing his cut."
MJ: "Without hidin' it?"
Peter: “Came upon it by accident.”
MJ: "Huh... I dunno. I guess I didn't see that bein' your first."
Peter: He smiled. “I know it doesn’t seem very magical or wondrous but it blew my mind.”
MJ: "He was, like, chantin' in a different language?"
Peter: “Yep. Chanting, glowing light, the whole nine.”
MJ: "Was it Latin or Scottish?"
Peter: “Ancient Gaelic.”
MJ: "Oh. How's that sound?"
Peter: “I couldn’t even begin to tell you. Gibberish but...powerful. Intense.”
MJ: "Powerful gibberish. I'mma tell him ya said that," he grinned.
Peter: Pete laughed. “He knows. Regular Gaelic is already gibberish. Ancient Gaelic sounds like something people shouldn’t be able to speak.”
MJ: "He really is your bestie, huh?"
Peter: “He really is.”
MJ: *What does that leave me?"
Peter: “That gives you best friend plus.”
MJ: "I got a plus? Fuck yeah, I got a plus!"
Peter: “Of course you get a plus!” he chuckled.
MJ: "You get my heart. Maybe. Kinda."
Peter: He smiled and kissed MJ. “Yeah,” he said softly. “And you get mine.”
MJ: "I think I've filled ya with enough cheese. Ready for some catfish n'chicken?"
Peter: “Aww, but I love the cheese. Also yes.”
MJ: "Means we gotta get up."
Peter: “It does, yes. But you’re so comfy.”
MJ: "Five more minutes?"
Peter: “Ten.”
MJ: "With kisses."
Peter: “So many kisses.”
MJ: "We're bein' lazy fucks."
Peter: “We’re not lazy, we’re in love.”
MJ: "Are we actually gonna get up?"
Peter: “Yes. But I seem to be experiencing a distinct lack of kisses.”
MJ: Cold hands pressed to both cheeks. "Well, pucker up, baby."
Peter: Pete grinned and leaned in.
MJ: The playfulness disintegrated the moment MJ offered his tongue; arms wrapped around his shoulders.
Peter: He hummed softly, savoring MJ’s tongue and melting into his embrace. He was in no rush.
MJ: His hands slowly snaked underneath Peter's jeans. He gave a proper squeeze and chuckled. "Ya feel so good."
Peter: Pete grinned. “Look even better.”
MJ: "Wanna show me the rest?"
Peter: "Mayyyybe," he said, leaning in for another kiss. "You can have a look and think about it during dinner."
MJ: "And then the sex?" he grinned.
Peter: Pete laughed. “And then the sex.”
MJ: He made a point of learning back to get a better view. "Show me the goods."
Peter: "You got it, sugar." Pete eased himself into a kneeling position and made a great show of undoing his belt.
MJ: "Oh, wow." What a sight. If only his body could naturally firm, to prove how much he enjoyed the lewd sight. "Can't ya go out naked?"
Peter: He chuckled softly. "I technically could, but I'd get arrested."
MJ: "Maybe we can go someplace where no one's gonna look. Maybe some skinny dippin'?"
Peter: "There's no spicy chicken and fried rice down at the river."
MJ: "Fried food and then naked in water. Don't stop."
Peter: "That's the best offer I've heard all day." He lowered his jeans as far down as he could, then his boxer briefs.
MJ: MJ lost all of his wit, staring agape. "Jesus Lord and Savior. You're gorgeous."
Peter: Pete just smiled and resumed his position, laying as much of himself on top of MJ as he could as he kissed him again.
MJ: "Ya know you're beautiful, don't ya?" He kissed what he could, from shoulder to neck and underneath his chin.
Peter: "Mm, say more nice things," Pete whispered.
MJ: "Ya came into my life like a snake in a bar," he grinned.
Peter: “Such a poet my boyfriend is.” Kiss. “If I wasn’t already down I’d swoon.”
MJ: "I love that ya just take my jokes."
Peter: "I like your jokes." Another kiss. "Can't tell you the number of times someone at the pub has caught me giggling at my phone because of the puns you send me while you're at work."
MJ: "You're a punny guy. Your smile is the best thing in my life."
Peter: "You should see yours." Pete smiled softly, tracing MJ's cheekbone with his finger. "It lights up your whole face."
MJ: His eyes lit, just as Pete had said they would. "Ya make my heart hurt." Not a joke this time; he'd forgotten to play the funny man role.
Peter: He didn’t have to play the funny man role. Pete loved all of him, the serious parts and the loving parts and the funny parts and all the parts in between.
MJ was nuzzled. “And you make mine hurt, in the best possible way.”
MJ: "I'm so glad ya understand what the fuck I mean," he chuckled. "I've been keepin' ya from food long enough." More peppered kisses. "Come on, baby, let's get ya fed."
Peter: "I've been keeping myself too." He smiled into the affection. "It was completely worth it."
MJ: Outside after some procrastination. MJ looked back while tossing his keys between his hands.
"Harley, walk, or you drive?"
Peter: No thought was necessary. "Harley, so I can hug you the entire time."
MJ: The helmet, not so purchased just for him, was handed over. "Let the grope fest begin!"
Peter: "And other sentences that need context," Pete chuckled, putting on the helmet before taking his place and, as soon as possible, clinging to MJ like a koala.
MJ: "Fuck context. Tweak my nipples and call me your sugar bear."
Peter: "Oooh, that's a good one. Sugar bear," he added.
MJ: The ridiculous smile remained plastered to his face as he drove down the road, dwindling once they reached the first red light. The night was cooler than he remembered waking. Winter was approaching.
The parking lot was nothing more than a patch of dirt. The restaurant something of a greasy spoon.
"Ya alright back there?"
Peter: Pete settled in comfortably behind MJ, closing his eyes and enjoying the cool night air. He loved this weather.
"I'm golden," he responded above the purr of the engine. "Could nap back here."
MJ: "Ya were the kinda baby that slept durin' car rides and was lulled by a vacuum, huh?"
Peter: Pete just smiled. "The blender, too."
MJ: "We were meant t'be. I was the same. I guess it's ADD or some shit."
Peter: "Maybe we were cats in a former life and we miss purring so we seek out rumbly white noise."
MJ: "I'll growl for ya if ya want."
Peter: "You're such a good boyfriend."
MJ: "I do my best."
Peter: "You succeed. Now come here so I can kiss you."
MJ: "Come here?" He twisted himself until his spine cracked and groaned. His pain was dismissed with a laugh, kissing his human gently.
Peter: “Yes. Your lips are too far away,” he chuckled, smile remaining as he let himself melt into the kiss.
MJ: "Alright, cutie." The motorcycle was shut off, keys pocketed. He fell into step beside him. "Ya lived here your whole life?"
Peter: Pete took MJ's hand. "Pretty much, except for college."
MJ: "Raleigh?"
Peter: "Yep. In a crappy little apartment near campus. Worked construction."
MJ: "Shirtless? Please tell me shirtless."
Peter: He laughed. "On occasion yes. Gets hot out there in the summer."
MJ: MJ quieted for Peter to give his order. The entire place smelled of smoke, clogging his senses. Masquerading as a human would be somewhat torturous tonight.
Peter: Pete ordered his chicken and rice and cream cheese things with much enthusiasm, even throwing in a coke and strawberry ice cream float, a personal favorite.
MJ: "You're twelve again! Don't forget sprinkles and fries! Gimmie some fries!"
Peter: “Load the float with rainbow sprinkles and add a ginormous plate of fries, Danny!”
MJ: "Hell yeah, Danny!" MJ grinned.
Peter: Danny laughed and shook his head. “You got it.”
Pete paid and led MJ over to a table.
MJ: MJ stretched out like an old cat, groaning along with his tired undead body. "I need a long, hot soak in a spring somewhere."
Peter: “Would a hot tub do?”
MJ: "D'ya have a hot tub? Is there a time machine included?"
Peter: He chuckled. “No but I’m sure there’s a hotel around here with hot tubs. Maybe not time machines though. We might need to find a DeLorean.”
MJ: "A DeLorean? You've gone too far," he laughed. "But for real, ya wanna go to a hotel?"
Peter: “Yeah! To both. We can get a fancy suite, soak in the hot tub, be naked all night and all day.”
MJ: "Ya got work tomorrow?"
Peter: “Not if I don’t want to. Good to be boss.”
MJ: "Okay then. What's the best hotel in town with a jacuzzi? We don't want an STD."
Peter: “I don’t think there is one,” he said after a moment’s thought. “But there’s that resort like an hour away. Bet they have them.”
MJ: "Ya wanna go an hour away?" Be still my heart. "Fuck yeah. Mind if I use your clothes? Easier than goin' t'the RV park."
Peter: Pete’s face lit up. “Of course! You’ll barely need them anyway since we’ll be naked the whole time.”
MJ: "Ya promise?" He loved seeing Pete so happy.
Peter: “I swear.” Time for more kisses.
MJ: In public? Mr. Graham! Playful growls churned from the depth of his chest, followed by laughter. "I could just eat ya up."
Peter: Yep, right in public in view of god and everyone. Pete didn’t care one bit who saw.
“Promise?” he echoed with a grin.
MJ: "We'll see in just a little," he whispered.
Peter: “We sure will.” Kiss. “Right after I devour all the food.”
MJ: "Inhale it like a fuckin' snake."
Peter: Pete laughed. “Now that I cant promise but something tells me it’ll be fast. Let’s book our room while we wait for food.”
MJ: "The place ya wanna go, s'it online? I can do that while ya eat."
Peter: “It should be yeah. See if they have suites with jacuzzi tubs.”
MJ: "Not a public one? We can get frisky next to some grandparents."
Peter: He made a face.
MJ: "Yeah. S'what I thought," he laughed.
Peter: “Grandparents and frisky do not belong in the same sentence. Or in the same jacuzzi tub.”
MJ: "Hey, you're gonna be a frisky grandpa one day."
Peter: “And I will be so in private.”
MJ: "Will we?" Eyebrows raise.
Peter: “Yep. If frisky grandpas are your thing. No baldness in my family so I’ll have a full head of hair.”
MJ: "I mean, I'll love ya when you're wrinkly. I'll love ya despite gray hair."
Peter: Pete’s face softened as he pulled MJ into another kiss.
MJ: "Oh no I," kiss, "went too," kiss, "far!"
Peter: “Never,” he whispered. “You went just far enough.”
MJ: "I can't be too sweet on ya, or you'll expect it forever," he smiled.
Peter: “You already do, baby.”
MJ: Thank goodness for their order, otherwise he might have to kiss him again, distracting many a nosy people.
"Alright, name it off for me." He pulled out his phone, leaning back in his seat and propping his feet in the neighboring chair.
Peter: Pete’s face lit up again as the food arrived, immediately going for one of the cream cheese puffs.
“Umm....” His brow furrowed. “I think it’s something with Outer Bank in the title.”
MJ: "Outer Bank something - this one?" He turned the Yelp page over for Pete to see. If so, he'd make the necessary arrangements.
"I get ya in a hot tub," he began to sing.
Peter: "Yep, that one," he said around a mouthful of pastry, chuckling at MJ's little song.
"You sure do. They got any?"
MJ: "It's got a communal thing and then one of those huge ass tubs with a thousand jets in it in our bathroom."
Peter: "Yessssss, perfect. Big giant tub all for us."
MJ: "Booking now."
Peter: Pete did a small happy dance. "I'm so ready."
MJ: "We should get some bath stuff on the way there. Give ya a thousand bubbles n'vanilla scented shit."
Peter: "Stella's house is on the way. She probably has bubbles and vanilla scented stuff."
MJ: "Do we want someone t'know we're goin'?"
Peter: “If we stop by her place I’ll tell her. And I’ll text June.”
MJ: "I guess I should let - nah, fuck it. You go ahead, though," he smiled.
Peter: “Do you have to let work know? You scheduled today or tomorrow?”
MJ: "Nope. It's my weekend. I'm all yours."
Peter: “Even better,” he said with a smile. “What else should we get before we go?”
MJ: "Umm...whipped cream?" he grinned. "A bottle of wine?"
Peter: Pete grinned back. “Got both at my place.”
MJ: "I'm gonna pack both." He bit his lip. He knew a portion of his anticipation was due to his hunger. Pete's decisions would not be swayed by such knowledge. He finished booking their room for the night and pocketed his phone.
"I got ya somethin', baby."
Peter: He finished off more of his food while MJ booked the room, not feeling shy whatsoever about showing his appreciation.
“You got me something? Aww, it’s not even my birthday.”
MJ: "Everyday is your birthday, baby."
Peter: “Such a sweet boyfriend. Am I allowed to ask what you got me or is it a surprise?”
MJ: "Ya want it now, or at the hotel, in the bath in my lap?"
Peter: “Hmmmmm.....now. I can thank you in the bath in your lap.”
MJ: "Ya sure?"
Peter: “Is it something...intimate?”
MJ: "I mean, it's for ya."
Peter: “Then we’ll save gift giving and thanking for the bath.”
MJ: His smile returned. "It's - Well, I mean, I guess you'll see." He was muttering to himself. Perhaps nervous?
Peter: “Yes I will. I’m excited.” More kisses please.
MJ: Each kiss was a comfort. "Ya finished eatin'?"
Peter: “Just about. This chicken is so damn good.”
MJ: "Is it," he leaned forward, "spicy?"
Peter: “Perfectly so,” he chuckled. “The rice is especially good.”
MJ: "Smells like good ol' fashioned southern cookin'."
Peter: “It definitely is. Tastes even better when you’re starving.”
MJ: "Ya know what I miss? Collard greens with Tabasco sauce."
Peter: “You used to put Tabasco on your greens?”
MJ: "Of course! Didn't y'all? In high school they had Tabasco right there with the salt and pepper for us."
Peter: “I just put what my mom considers too much pepper on mine. She has that opinion about a lot of the things I put pepper on.”
MJ: "Oh, baby, ya gotta try it with the hot sauce. It goes on pretty much everything. Pizza, fried chicken, roasted chicken, greens, corn bread..."
Peter: “No no no, the only thing that goes on corn bread is a ton of butter and maybe honey.”
MJ: "Yeah, that, but also makin' a chicken sandwich with Tabasco sauce outta cornbread."
Peter: “Laura would shoot me in the street if I dared make a sandwich out of anything but her bread.”
MJ: "Are y'all actually southern?"
Peter: “As if you have to ask.”
MJ: "I miss...people food."
Peter: Pete leaned over to kiss MJ’s cheek.
MJ: What a sweetheart. "I mean, I get t'still have it, but it ain't the same."
Peter: "I know. baby. At least we get to have bubble baths and wine."
MJ: "M'gonna have a little...you with the wine."
Peter: "You can have as much of me as you want," he whispered.
MJ: "As soon as we get outta this restaurant, you're mine."
Peter: "Just a little longer." The float was the only thing left to finish off, which he would do after another kiss.
MJ: The vampire simply smiled as he watched. He would tinker on his phone while waiting, sending texts to his sister.
Peter: A few minutes later Pete had empty plates and a huge, happy smile on his face.
"Mmm, okay. I'm ready for dessert."
MJ: "You're gonna be too fat n'happy with food t'fuck."
Peter: “My metabolism works fast. We’ve got plenty of time.”
MJ: He opened his mouth and promptly closed it. He would keep that thought to himself. "D'ya taste like sugar right now?"
Peter: "Probably. Sugar and strawberries. And wine soon," he added with a grin.
MJ: "M'gonna taste ya as soon as ya walk out that door." So he got to his feet. "Let's go."
Peter: "Yep, let's go." Pete was practically giddy as he followed MJ out, already picturing what was coming.
MJ: But could he have predicted being lifted into MJ's arms as soon as autumn kissed their skin? Being walked back to the motorcycle with a ridiculous gait, lips crushed to his own?
Peter: No, he certainly could not have predicted it, but lord was he glad for it.
Pete laughed softly against MJ's lips, clinging to him for all he was worth even after they reached the bike and letting his boyfriend devour him whole.
MJ: Pete was placed on the seat, hands steady in case his human lost equilibrium. Kisses were replaced by a gentle stroking of his cheeks.
"You're so ridiculously beautiful."
Peter: Pete nuzzled into MJ’s hands. “You must be talking into a mirror,” he whispered, turning his head to kiss MJ’s palms. “My beautiful, beautiful vampire boyfriend. I love you so much.”
MJ: "Ya really do?" he asked, softly.
Peter: It was Pete’s turn to stroke MJ’s cheeks. “So much my chest hurts. Beyond all belief.”
MJ: "That doesn't sound good, baby. That sounds like a health condition."
Peter: “Trust me, it’s good. C’mere, baby,” he murmured, guiding MJ into another kiss.
MJ: What was offered was gentlier than usual. He said nothing in fear of it being noticed.
Only after Pete put on his helmet did he speak. "Hold tight. Your place?"
Peter: Pete didn’t mind the gentleness; it was a gentle, lovely moment and it was treasured.
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He snuggled right in and held tight. “Yep! My place for supplies and then hot tub and nudity.”
MJ: "You're gonna have'ta guide me the rest of the way," he called, starting back to the house.
Peter: “You got it, baby.” He’d never been there, but he was pretty sure it was just a straight shot up the highway but he’d check to make sure.
MJ: Nearly forty-five minutes later, the serenity of the lodge was disturbed by the steady rumble of a Harley Davidson. The vampire felt behind for Pete's ribs.
"I think that's the longest ya ever road with me. Ya in one piece?"
Peter: Pete was really starting to think he'd been a cat in a former life. The ride up to the resort was the most relaxed he'd been in ages.
Relaxed and cozy against his boyfriend's back.
"Yep," he said dreamily, nuzzling MJ's shoulder. "I'm gonna quit driving so you can drive me everywhere, is that cool?"
MJ: "I think ya should get a bike of your own. We can ride t'gether, then. Gotta get ya your own leather jacket. Unf!" Speaking of bike accessories, he took his time removing Pete's helmet. There was his human, and that dreamy face.
"Ready t'go in?"
Peter: “But snuggling you is so much fun.”
As soon as his head was free, Pete was leaning in for a kiss. “Hell yeah. Into the resort and into the tub.”
MJ: "Mm," he smiled. Checking in would be a breeze, having reserved ahead of time. There was always the two second look given when explaining there was a motorcycle outside.
"Room 241. Please enjoy your stay."
"Oh, we will, ma'am. Thank you so much for your hospitality!"
Pete was practically dragged towards the stairs.
Peter: Pete looked around as MJ checked them in, taking everything in. He could tell why the resort was popular; it was clean and well-kept and just fancy enough to be special without being over the top. The view of the coast threw the windows didn't hurt either.
He only had time to give the lady at the desk a smile before MJ was leading him away.
"So eager," he laughed, still looking around. "Excited about something, baby?"
MJ: "M'excited t'have ya all to myself. M'always havin' t'share ya with other people. Tonight? Fuck that."
He was going to make a point of dominance tonight, starting with yanking away Pete's jacket as soon as the door closed. Pulling him into a strong and hungry kiss with both hands.
Peter: "Not just tonight. All this weekend. You don't have to share me with anything or anyone else. I'm all yours."
Pete wasn't entirely sure if he'd even managed to get the last of that out before MJ was stripping him and devouring him whole and making Pete simply melt in his arms. It was like getting swept off his feet by Superman. A beautiful vampiric Superman.
He groaned softly, hands finding their way underneath his boyfriend's shirt and pulling him as close as possible.
MJ: There would be a silent argument between being close and having to pull away to remove further clothing. He laughed at their clumsiness as the shirts were tossed to the side. Superman? He would have scoffed at the very idea, but labeled Pete his Lois for the remainder of the night.
"I wanna do too much at once," he confessed. "Bubble bath fuck? Balcony fuck? Bed fuck? Fuck!"









