Endless Temptation - Being Human - George/Mitchell
Title: Endless Temptation
Pairing: George/Mitchell
Word Count: 438
Rating: R
Spoilers: 1x01
A/N: Written for the porn battle.
Summary: "Do I smell funny?"
"She could smell that I wasn't human."
Lying in bed, Mitchell opened one eye. In the dark he could still see perfectly enough to observe George staring up at their bedroom ceiling. He had to fight the urge to ignore him and go back to sleep.
"Mm?" he mumbled.
"Lauren. She sniffed me and she knew what I am."
"George-"
"Do I smell funny?"
Mitchell sighed. For someone who didn't want the supernatural aspect of themselves to invade their personal life, George spent an awful lot of time talking about it.
"I do, don't I? I smell funny."
"You smell different." They were different, both of them. There was little use in fighting it, yet they continued doing so all the same. "I like it." There was something about George that smelled like home to him and always had, from the very first time they met. Something comforting.
"Would I taste funny too?" George asked. He sounded genuinely distressed - and completely oblivious to the way Mitchell tensed at this new turn of conversation. "Have you ever thought about that? About me like that, I mean."
And, god, of course he had. There were nights when Mitchell was buried deep inside George when they were both sweat-stained and moaning that it took more self-restraint than he knew he possessed to stop himself from sinking his fangs into the soft skin of George's neck and drinking deep. The thought made lust turn in his stomach and made his cock begin to harden, even though he'd already had George tonight and he was certain George would complain about how they had to get up early tomorrow morning. Sometimes the want - the hunger - was overpowering.
He wouldn't be able to stop, Mitchell was certain of that. It wouldn't just be a taste if he drank from George: he'd want everything. He'd want it all. He'd feel the essence of George's life dripping down his chin and he'd feel George trying to push him away desperately and he wouldn't be able to make himself stop. The pounding of George's heart would urge him onwards, onwards, onwards. His mouth watered and he hated how much he wants this - how it thrilled him, the idea of having George even in death.
George was a monster once a month. Mitchell had to fight it every single second.
"Bet I'd taste like licking a dog," George muttered unhappily, rolling over.
Mitchell didn't care to correct him, though he followed George and pressed close, kissing the nape of his neck - and never daring to edge any closer to the enchanting pulse point of his jugular.
Pairing: George/Mitchell
Word Count: 438
Rating: R
Spoilers: 1x01
A/N: Written for the porn battle.
Summary: "Do I smell funny?"
"She could smell that I wasn't human."
Lying in bed, Mitchell opened one eye. In the dark he could still see perfectly enough to observe George staring up at their bedroom ceiling. He had to fight the urge to ignore him and go back to sleep.
"Mm?" he mumbled.
"Lauren. She sniffed me and she knew what I am."
"George-"
"Do I smell funny?"
Mitchell sighed. For someone who didn't want the supernatural aspect of themselves to invade their personal life, George spent an awful lot of time talking about it.
"I do, don't I? I smell funny."
"You smell different." They were different, both of them. There was little use in fighting it, yet they continued doing so all the same. "I like it." There was something about George that smelled like home to him and always had, from the very first time they met. Something comforting.
"Would I taste funny too?" George asked. He sounded genuinely distressed - and completely oblivious to the way Mitchell tensed at this new turn of conversation. "Have you ever thought about that? About me like that, I mean."
And, god, of course he had. There were nights when Mitchell was buried deep inside George when they were both sweat-stained and moaning that it took more self-restraint than he knew he possessed to stop himself from sinking his fangs into the soft skin of George's neck and drinking deep. The thought made lust turn in his stomach and made his cock begin to harden, even though he'd already had George tonight and he was certain George would complain about how they had to get up early tomorrow morning. Sometimes the want - the hunger - was overpowering.
He wouldn't be able to stop, Mitchell was certain of that. It wouldn't just be a taste if he drank from George: he'd want everything. He'd want it all. He'd feel the essence of George's life dripping down his chin and he'd feel George trying to push him away desperately and he wouldn't be able to make himself stop. The pounding of George's heart would urge him onwards, onwards, onwards. His mouth watered and he hated how much he wants this - how it thrilled him, the idea of having George even in death.
George was a monster once a month. Mitchell had to fight it every single second.
"Bet I'd taste like licking a dog," George muttered unhappily, rolling over.
Mitchell didn't care to correct him, though he followed George and pressed close, kissing the nape of his neck - and never daring to edge any closer to the enchanting pulse point of his jugular.