Safe, 1 of 3
anonymous
November 4 2011, 00:20:36 UTC
Charley can sleep through a fucking air raid. Or worse, through a vampire attack, and it's this thought which has frozen Peter Vincent where he stands just inside his bedroom, a drink in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth. Smoking and sipping melon liqueur, he watches Charley sleep on his bed.
He's been in a shitty mood all evening. It's the rain that does it: it reminds him of where he came from, that piece of his past he tried so hard to leave behind until it caught up with him recently. When he moved to the States all those years ago he'd intentionally picked one of the driest climates he could find. But even Las Vegas isn't exempt from a storm now and then, particularly in late summer like it is now, when the black clouds roll in and it just pisses down for anywhere from five minutes to five hours
( ... )
Safe, 2 of 3
anonymous
November 4 2011, 00:22:01 UTC
Now he stands, watching, chewing an ice cube from his drink and listening to the silence of his penthouse. He thinks again about that night: Charley's newly-vamped friend, Ed he remembers the teenagers calling him, popping in and bringing Jerry with him. Charley mumbles in his sleep and turns over onto his side, and Peter feels a wave of protectiveness wash over him, so strong he nearly drops his drink. It's an unfamiliar feeling, and one he doesn't quite know how to process. He wants to wake Charley up and ask him what the fuck he was thinking, falling asleep alone and vulnerable. He wants to let him rest while he stands guard with his shotgun until the sun comes up. And he wants to run - pick up and leave tonight and never look back, because this, this feeling is nearly as terrifying as having his home invaded by blood-thirsty demons was
( ... )
Safe, 3 of 3
anonymous
November 4 2011, 00:23:10 UTC
There's some thrashing and rolling around as they each struggle to pin the other - most of the time Peter is more than happy to be (albeit, very vocally) passive, but not tonight, and Charley seems to sense this and relents, laying back and kissing him deeply, sighing as Peter traps his arms above his head with one hand and reaches between them with the other to unbutton Charley's jeans. After much wriggling and kicking off of shoes and a brief, mood-breaking pause for Peter to locate condoms and lubricant, he settles between Charley's bended knees and watches his face contort in pleasure as he carefully and slowly pushes inside. Peter's a fan of fucking face to face anyway, and tonight it's all the more important: he needs to see Charley's face as he's fucking him, needs to know that he's here and, for the moment anyway, hisHe's far too old and too broken to get sentimental, but Charley's canvas messenger bag slung into the corner indicates he planned on staying the night when he snuck in here, and the rain and the wet footprints and
( ... )
OP here, Re: Safe, 3 of 3
anonymous
November 5 2011, 20:48:16 UTC
I can't tell you how happy this fill makes me. Having just written something that is pure pwp, I love when prompts are taken for reals and for trues and the fills come out full of emotion and hotness and everything that makes this ship awesome. I love how conflicted Peter is, how scared he is of both what he feels and losing it and Charley. I love how tentative it all still is. It's new and it's wonderful and it's confusing and it's perfect for them. *huggles ficlet*
He's been in a shitty mood all evening. It's the rain that does it: it reminds him of where he came from, that piece of his past he tried so hard to leave behind until it caught up with him recently. When he moved to the States all those years ago he'd intentionally picked one of the driest climates he could find. But even Las Vegas isn't exempt from a storm now and then, particularly in late summer like it is now, when the black clouds roll in and it just pisses down for anywhere from five minutes to five hours ( ... )
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THANK YOU!
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