Bela Lugosi's Dead
Title: Bela Lugosi's Dead
Fandom: Moonlight
Pairing: Josef/Mick
Rating: Low Level NC17
Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Mick's trying to work out his place in the world. There's just one place he can't accept.
posted to moonlight_slash and smallfandomfest
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Cockroaches, they were surrounded by cockroaches, hundreds of the damn things. Scuttling black in the dimly lit, smoke filled room.
Josef leant over the railing of the club’s balcony, and surveyed the scene below. As far as he could tell the trick with this crowd was to look as disinterested, and apathetic as possible.
“So explain to me again what we’re doing here, exactly?” Josef raised a quizzical eyebrow at Mick standing next to him.
“Fitting in.” Mick’s response was clipped, to the point. He’d already explained all of this to Josef before they’d set out.
“Of course.” Josef rolled his eyes, and returned to his medley of crowd watching.
In spite of his apparent dismissal, Josef’s expression bore a note of concern. Ever since that night in the warehouse - a rescued child clutched in his arms, Coraline, the ensuing inferno, Mick’s marriage going up in a heated torrent of smoke, and flames - Mick had been searching for what he called, ‘His place in the world’.
Josef offered what reassurance he could. Mostly in the form of words, on occasion through the commission of more intimate acts. Nothing seemed to work. Mick remained just as lost, cast adrift in the world as he had ever felt before. Josef had to admit; he was worried.
“It’s alright for you, Josef,” Mick started in on a, by now, familiar lament, “You’ve been able to accept what you are, you know where you belong in the scheme of things. I don’t.”
“And your answer is to become a Goth?” Josef laughed heartily, and slapped Mick on the back, “Congratulations St John, you’ve outdone yourself. I do believe that is the single lamest idea you have ever had.”
“I’ve been studying this group,” Mick’s voice shifted defensive, “they seem to make it a point of accepting those who are different. This might be my one chance to fit back in with human society.”
“Trust me, it’s 1995, you missed the boat on this one by at least ten years.” Josef snorted a laugh, and shook his head. And then his expression fell serious. A hand under Mick’s chin turned Mick’s attention towards his, “Mick, look at me. By the end of the night Bela Lugosi will still be dead, and you’ll still be a Vampire. There’s no getting away from that fact.”
“I just…”
Mick didn’t get a chance to finish. He was being swept into Josef’s arms, and rushed through the crowd. Feet trailing along the ground, headed toward a secluded corner.
“Fit with me,” Josef was whispering to him, “if you want to fit somewhere, then fit with me.”
Mick felt confused, dizzy with the ground swell of movement. ‘Fit with me’. Fit with me where? What was Josef saying? That he wanted Mick to have a relationship with him? Something beyond the physicality they occasionally shared?
“Josef,” the question was on the tip of Mick’s tongue, hovering unspoken in the air between them. And then Mick’s fortitude crumbled, “not here, not like this. Let’s go somewhere more private.”
A nearby hotel, a room ordered, and paid for. Two Vampires stumbled through a doorway, trying to co-ordinate a tangled mess of limbs and fangs.
Fit with me.
Fit with me how, Josef. Tell me how.
Mick couldn’t bring himself to give voice to the myriad of questions Josef’s words had raised in his mind. He concentrated on more familiar territory instead. Josef’s fingers working their way deftly along the buttons of his shirt, Josef’s lips pressed firm against his own.
A hand placed in the center of Mick’s chest pushed him back onto the mattress below. The both of then stripped naked now, moving against one another. The driving beat of the music they had just left behind still rung in Mick’s ear.
Ask me. Ask me, Mick. Ask me what I meant by those words. I’ll answer you. This is a one time offer, you might not get this level of honesty from me again.
Mick couldn’t be sure if he’d heard those words, or if somehow he had read Josef’s mind. Josef was rummaging in a drawer next to the bed now, looking for the sachet of complimentary lubricant the cheaper establishments always seemed to offer.
“Do you want to top, or should I?” Josef had found what he was looking for.
“No,” Mick shook his head, “you can top if you want.”
Mick preferred it that way. He cast his mind back to the first time he had been with Josef. Nervous as hell, unsure of what he was doing. And the initial shock of pain had made him gasp, and bite down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. But Christ it had felt good. Once the pain had subsided, it had felt so damn good.
“Oh, Jesus.” Mick clung to Josef’s back, and buried his face against Josef’s shoulder. Trying to relax through the initial penetration.
“You ok?” Josef always checked in with him like this. Mick had often wondered why. It seemed like Josef actually cared. In most other circumstances, Josef acted like he was out for himself alone.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Mick whispered words of reassurance in Josef’s ear. His heels dug into Josef’s buttocks, spurring him on. “Keep going.”
Josef did just that, pressing forward until he reached the hilt. Reveling in the noises Mick made as he withdrew, and thrust back into him.
“I love you.”
This time there was no mistaking the words Josef had just whispered in Mick’s ear. Mick didn’t know how to respond. Legs wrapped tight around Josef’s waist. Josef was fucking him hard now. Getting harder. Mick could already feel the first stirrings of orgasm coiling up from the base of his spine.
“I can’t…”
“…I know. It doesn’t matter.”
But it did matter. Mick imagined there weren’t too many people in the world that had ever heard those words from Josef Kostan. He was amongst the honoured elite. And the only thing he could think of to say was, ‘I can’t’.
Before Mick had a chance to admonish himself further, Josef was driving into him one final time. Sinking his fangs into Mick’s throat. Growling his way with abandon through the climax that tore through him.
And Mick was right there with him, only a few beats behind. A string of expletives poured forth from his lips. His own fangs sunk deep into the top of Josef’s shoulder.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Christ, fuck why I can’t I just say it back to you. It would make things so much easier. I love you too.
“I’m sorry.” Mick’s voice sounded genuinely apologetic as he shifted into Josef’s embrace. Josef had waited until they were both spent before withdrawing to lie on his back. Gesturing for Mick to come into his arms.
I’m sorry. Saying it back to you means I accept myself the way I am. I’m not ready for that, Josef. Not yet.
“I know.” Josef absentmindedly stroked the side of Mick’s face, and pressed his lips to the top of Mick’s head nestled in the crook of his shoulder. “So are we headed back to Zombieland or not?”
Josef changed the subject then. Mick laughed, and shook his head. “No, you were right, that was a lame idea.”
A few moments more spent in silent repletion, and then Mick spoke again.
“Josef…?”
“…What, Mick?”
“Nothing…”
I love you too.
Lips pressed against the top of Mick’s head once again, a hand brushing the side of his face. And Josef’s voice this time, replying…
“Yeah, I know, Mick. I know.”
And one day you’ll have the guts to say those words back to me. Until then, this will have to suffice…
“Josef…?”
“…What, Mick?”
“Nothing…”
I love you too.
Fandom: Moonlight
Pairing: Josef/Mick
Rating: Low Level NC17
Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Mick's trying to work out his place in the world. There's just one place he can't accept.
posted to moonlight_slash and smallfandomfest
----------------------------------------------------------
Cockroaches, they were surrounded by cockroaches, hundreds of the damn things. Scuttling black in the dimly lit, smoke filled room.
Josef leant over the railing of the club’s balcony, and surveyed the scene below. As far as he could tell the trick with this crowd was to look as disinterested, and apathetic as possible.
“So explain to me again what we’re doing here, exactly?” Josef raised a quizzical eyebrow at Mick standing next to him.
“Fitting in.” Mick’s response was clipped, to the point. He’d already explained all of this to Josef before they’d set out.
“Of course.” Josef rolled his eyes, and returned to his medley of crowd watching.
In spite of his apparent dismissal, Josef’s expression bore a note of concern. Ever since that night in the warehouse - a rescued child clutched in his arms, Coraline, the ensuing inferno, Mick’s marriage going up in a heated torrent of smoke, and flames - Mick had been searching for what he called, ‘His place in the world’.
Josef offered what reassurance he could. Mostly in the form of words, on occasion through the commission of more intimate acts. Nothing seemed to work. Mick remained just as lost, cast adrift in the world as he had ever felt before. Josef had to admit; he was worried.
“It’s alright for you, Josef,” Mick started in on a, by now, familiar lament, “You’ve been able to accept what you are, you know where you belong in the scheme of things. I don’t.”
“And your answer is to become a Goth?” Josef laughed heartily, and slapped Mick on the back, “Congratulations St John, you’ve outdone yourself. I do believe that is the single lamest idea you have ever had.”
“I’ve been studying this group,” Mick’s voice shifted defensive, “they seem to make it a point of accepting those who are different. This might be my one chance to fit back in with human society.”
“Trust me, it’s 1995, you missed the boat on this one by at least ten years.” Josef snorted a laugh, and shook his head. And then his expression fell serious. A hand under Mick’s chin turned Mick’s attention towards his, “Mick, look at me. By the end of the night Bela Lugosi will still be dead, and you’ll still be a Vampire. There’s no getting away from that fact.”
“I just…”
Mick didn’t get a chance to finish. He was being swept into Josef’s arms, and rushed through the crowd. Feet trailing along the ground, headed toward a secluded corner.
“Fit with me,” Josef was whispering to him, “if you want to fit somewhere, then fit with me.”
Mick felt confused, dizzy with the ground swell of movement. ‘Fit with me’. Fit with me where? What was Josef saying? That he wanted Mick to have a relationship with him? Something beyond the physicality they occasionally shared?
“Josef,” the question was on the tip of Mick’s tongue, hovering unspoken in the air between them. And then Mick’s fortitude crumbled, “not here, not like this. Let’s go somewhere more private.”
A nearby hotel, a room ordered, and paid for. Two Vampires stumbled through a doorway, trying to co-ordinate a tangled mess of limbs and fangs.
Fit with me.
Fit with me how, Josef. Tell me how.
Mick couldn’t bring himself to give voice to the myriad of questions Josef’s words had raised in his mind. He concentrated on more familiar territory instead. Josef’s fingers working their way deftly along the buttons of his shirt, Josef’s lips pressed firm against his own.
A hand placed in the center of Mick’s chest pushed him back onto the mattress below. The both of then stripped naked now, moving against one another. The driving beat of the music they had just left behind still rung in Mick’s ear.
Ask me. Ask me, Mick. Ask me what I meant by those words. I’ll answer you. This is a one time offer, you might not get this level of honesty from me again.
Mick couldn’t be sure if he’d heard those words, or if somehow he had read Josef’s mind. Josef was rummaging in a drawer next to the bed now, looking for the sachet of complimentary lubricant the cheaper establishments always seemed to offer.
“Do you want to top, or should I?” Josef had found what he was looking for.
“No,” Mick shook his head, “you can top if you want.”
Mick preferred it that way. He cast his mind back to the first time he had been with Josef. Nervous as hell, unsure of what he was doing. And the initial shock of pain had made him gasp, and bite down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. But Christ it had felt good. Once the pain had subsided, it had felt so damn good.
“Oh, Jesus.” Mick clung to Josef’s back, and buried his face against Josef’s shoulder. Trying to relax through the initial penetration.
“You ok?” Josef always checked in with him like this. Mick had often wondered why. It seemed like Josef actually cared. In most other circumstances, Josef acted like he was out for himself alone.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Mick whispered words of reassurance in Josef’s ear. His heels dug into Josef’s buttocks, spurring him on. “Keep going.”
Josef did just that, pressing forward until he reached the hilt. Reveling in the noises Mick made as he withdrew, and thrust back into him.
“I love you.”
This time there was no mistaking the words Josef had just whispered in Mick’s ear. Mick didn’t know how to respond. Legs wrapped tight around Josef’s waist. Josef was fucking him hard now. Getting harder. Mick could already feel the first stirrings of orgasm coiling up from the base of his spine.
“I can’t…”
“…I know. It doesn’t matter.”
But it did matter. Mick imagined there weren’t too many people in the world that had ever heard those words from Josef Kostan. He was amongst the honoured elite. And the only thing he could think of to say was, ‘I can’t’.
Before Mick had a chance to admonish himself further, Josef was driving into him one final time. Sinking his fangs into Mick’s throat. Growling his way with abandon through the climax that tore through him.
And Mick was right there with him, only a few beats behind. A string of expletives poured forth from his lips. His own fangs sunk deep into the top of Josef’s shoulder.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Christ, fuck why I can’t I just say it back to you. It would make things so much easier. I love you too.
“I’m sorry.” Mick’s voice sounded genuinely apologetic as he shifted into Josef’s embrace. Josef had waited until they were both spent before withdrawing to lie on his back. Gesturing for Mick to come into his arms.
I’m sorry. Saying it back to you means I accept myself the way I am. I’m not ready for that, Josef. Not yet.
“I know.” Josef absentmindedly stroked the side of Mick’s face, and pressed his lips to the top of Mick’s head nestled in the crook of his shoulder. “So are we headed back to Zombieland or not?”
Josef changed the subject then. Mick laughed, and shook his head. “No, you were right, that was a lame idea.”
A few moments more spent in silent repletion, and then Mick spoke again.
“Josef…?”
“…What, Mick?”
“Nothing…”
I love you too.
Lips pressed against the top of Mick’s head once again, a hand brushing the side of his face. And Josef’s voice this time, replying…
“Yeah, I know, Mick. I know.”
And one day you’ll have the guts to say those words back to me. Until then, this will have to suffice…
“Josef…?”
“…What, Mick?”
“Nothing…”
I love you too.