Fic: Life Is For The Living
Title: Life Is For The LivingAuthor: phantomreviewer
Pairing(s): George/Mitchell
Rating: 15
Disclaimer: Being Human belongs to the brilliance of BBC3
Warnings: None really. Nothing stronger than kissing.
Summary: Like hell he wasn't, 'In the mood. Mitchell was always in the mood.
Author's notes: UnBETAed but I hope that you like it.
“I can control myself.”
“Yeah, so what are you waiting for?”
George didn't believe him, and like hell he wasn’t 'In the mood'. Mitchell was always in the mood.
He watched Mitchell take a swig of the beer in his hands.
He watched Mitchell's hands.
He watched Mitchell.
It was his time of month, that's what he blamed it on.
But still.
He couldn't help looking, as it was his time of month he noticed things.
And everyone else smelt so human, everyone except Mitchell, and that attracted the wolf in him.
Because there were girls, human girls. Who Mitchell said were checking him out, but they were human, and he was so near to his time. It'd be dangerous, for both of them.
And then there was Mitchell.
Mitchell who wasn't in the mood.
It always had to happen like that.
And with Mitchell in a mood George would have to deal with himself.
And then there was Gilbert, followed by Annie.
"Gilbert and I are just going to like, chat. That okay?"
Mitchell snapped his head up.
"Yeah, sure, enjoy yourself."
"I'll walk her home when we're done."
George nodded at Gilbert but Mitchell just downed his bottle and ordered another.
George drank his own and asked for another as well.
They had both got though more than the recommended unit limit by the end of the evening. Not that it effected either of them, George with his endorphins running high and general humanity running low and Mitchell in his state of permanent death.
They walked -not staggered- back to the house later that evening. The sun had just sunk and as the entered the house they realised that Annie wasn't home.
They slumped down on the sofa, a melancholy mood covering the two 'men'.
"I'm not waiting for anything."
George turned to Mitchell, opening his eyes and turning his head.
He'd forgotten the conversation that had lowered the tone.
"You asked me what I was waiting for."
"Oh, oh yea."
He closed his eyes and leant back against the leather sofa.
He didn't want to have this conversation now.
He didn't need to think about Mitchell, any more, his wolf was... randy.
"I'm waiting for someone."
He felt Mitchell get off the sofa, the creek of leather combined with the waft of pure vampire, he still didn't open his eyes.
It was easiest that way.
"Hope you find them."
The light was blocked behind his eyelids, Mitchell was standing in front of him.
"I have."
George rolled his eyes, still without opening them. Not that it meant anything, but it made George feel better.
And then Mitchell's lips were on his and his hands reached up to drag the Vampire to him by the hair. It worked and as his mouth opened to the vampire's tongue, Mitchell's arms where placed on either side of George's head. Trapping him against the leather work of the sofa.
Not that he minded. He was too busy attempting to open Mitchell's shirt, pull his hair, anything to become closer to him, as the wolf directed. Not only that, but as he wanted. As he came to realise with Mitchell's tongue in his mouth.
They'd vacated the sofa by the time Annie arrived home and she and Gilbert had stayed downstairs, holding pointless cups off tea, trying to talk though the intrusive and insulting noise of life.
Gilbert asked her to meet him at the cemetery the next day.
It seemed fitting to accept.