Kill Your Darlings

Patrick never called back. Pete couldn't figure out why, but it occurred to him a few days after that he hadn't spoken with Patrick, Joe, or Andy at all since his birthday.

Pete had been at Gerard's house for about a month, and he had grown to spending his time in the lavish garden instead of being cooped up indoors. August seemed to be a beautiful month in New Jersey, and it occurred to Pete that Augusts in his new home might be nicer than Augusts in New Jersey.

He had also never truly been afraid in the month. There was the lingering fear that someone would find him somehow, but he was never afraid of anyone he lived with. Gerard had gotten over his annoyance with Mikey, and he proved to be quite nice, instead of the 'obstinant jackass' Mikey said he was, so Pete wasn't afraid of him anymore. However, it wasn't Gerard that Pete had to worry about.

Pete was laying in the grass one day, watching the sky. Mikey had been missing all day, but both Gerard and Lindsey assured Pete that he was okay and would come back by nightfall. However, the moon hung low in the marmalade sky and no sign of Mikey. Pete sighed and sat up with the full intent of going back inside and waiting for Mikey there, but then he heard something behind him.

The sound came from the base of the forest that ran through the property. Pete had never been adventurous enough to go in, but he knew that, while they weren't all that deep, there were things to be feared in there. "Hello?" He called out meekly, standing up slowly.

The person he had been waiting for walked out and Pete gasped. His normal red dress shirt was torn at the bottom hem, like claws from a big cat had gotten to him. There was an oozing red gash on his inner forearm, but that wasn't what Pete was worried about.

Mikey had blood around his mouth. It covered his lips and dripped down his chin. His extended fangs were covered in the stuff, and his eyes were the same color as the ruby substance.

"Pete..." Mikey said quietly, immediately wiping his mouth dry on the back of his hand. "I didn't mean for you to see me like this."

"What did you kill?" Pete asked quietly.

"I didn't kill anyone, I swear to you," Mikey said, slowly approaching Pete, who backed away.

"What did you kill?" Pete said again, his voice rising and shaking with fear.

"A deer," Mikey told him. "Pete, I'm sorry that you have to see me this feral. I didn't expect for you to be waiting for me outside. I'm so sorry." By now, he was in front of Pete, one hand tentatively placed on Pete's waist. Pete was vibrating with fear, and he clenched his hands into fists to keep from crying.

"Pete?" Mikey asked quietly. "Please say something."

"You are a monster," Pete whispered.

"I admit, I'm not proud of what I am, but I can't control what I need to do to live," Mikey said. "I haven't had fresh blood in a little over a month, and I was eventually going to feed on you if I didn't hunt soon."

"On me?"

"You're the only human within a thirty mile radius," Mikey explained patiently. "Your— not yours exactly, but human—blood is better for me. If I hadn't done something today, you'd be dead right now."

"You would kill me?" Pete gasped.

"I wouldn't want to, but my instincts would have made me feed on you," Mikey said. "Sometimes that's the issue when you love a mortal: if you lose yourself to bloodlust even for a second, your partner could die at your hands."

"What the fuck is 'bloodlust'?"

"It's kinda likes a reverse mensturation period for vampires. Once every month, we become desperate for blood, to point where we would kill our lover if it meant being able to feed. There are alternatives to blood, but the mix is scarce."

Pete nodded silently. Mikey placed his other hand on Pete's waist as well, leaning his forehead on Pete's. Pete could only think about how he was in the arms of a murderer.

The thought occurred to him less often than he expected it to. It never came up at all, and it somewhat shocked Pete when he was reminded that, for the last year and half, 18 people had gone missing and died at the hands of the man holding him so dearly.

Without warning, Mikey sealed their lips together, gripping Pete's waist tightly. Pete, quite obviously surprised, pulled away quickly, looking up at Mikey. It was silent, except for the night wind and the chirping of crickets.

Then, Mikey hooked an arm around Pete's neck and pulled him closer, kissing him again. The metallic taste of blood filled Pete's mouth but he didn't pull away, instead pressing his body closer to Mikey's. In the back of his throat, Mikey let out an animalistic growl and deepened the kiss suddenly, making Pete's heart glow in his chest. The two stayed connected until they couldn't bare it, and had to pull away to breath. Both were panting, and closer to each other than ever before. "Pete," Mikey started softly. "If you don't want this, it's okay. I don't... I don't wanna hurt you."

"Please," he pleaded. "I don't care if you hurt me. I want you."

The journey to Mikey's bedroom, while short, was agitating. Finally, the door closed behind them and Pete was pushed up against the wall, Mikey's mouth immediately latching onto his neck and sucking and biting at the skin.

Peted held back his sounds in fear of Mikey's brother or sister-in-law hearing. "Sweetheart, they won't hear," Mikeu purred against Pete's neck. "Even if they do, they won't care."

With that, a moan tore through Pete's throat, emptying itself into the air. "F-fuck," Pete moaned and Mikey pulled his legs up to wrap them around his waist, trapping Pete between him and the wall.

Finally, Mikey seemed finished abusing Pete's neck, and carried him to the bed, gently laying him down. Mikey softly kissed Pete's forehead as his hands went to Pete's jeans, quickly unbuttoning them and tugging them off. Pete's fingers scrambled to undo the buttons on the torn shirt, discarding it across the room and kissing Mikey's lips once more.

Mikey pulled away suddenly, looking down at the man below him. Pete was beautiful to him; he loved him. "Guess what?" Mikey asked quietly, kissing down Pete's jawline

"What?" Pete asked.

"I love you more than anything. You're perfect, Peter Wentz; and you're all mine."

After a few more seconds of violent kissing, they were both naked, and Pete was a moaning mess beneath Mikey. Both of them were a moaning mess, and both of them were hard.

"I..." Mikey started and trailed off. "I, uh.." He tried again but he couldn't finish his sentence. His brain wasn't allowing him to be soft— his brain, full of hormones and the after effects of a particularly violent bloodlust, wanted him to be demanding and dominant.

He ran his thumb along Pete's lower lip, thinking for a few seconds. Fuck it, he thought and pushed three of his fingers into Pete's mouth, with the understood direction to suck. Pete's tongue ran over Mikey's fingers, and Mikey moaned softly.

Once he was satisfied, Mikey pulled his fingers out and asked quietly: "Ready?" Pete nodded and Mikey reached down, his movements slow and deliberate. He knew the effects his slowness would have on Pete, and he was delighted when Pete started to beg.

"Please," he implored. "Mikey... Please."

"'Please' what, sweetheart?" Mikey whispered. "What do you want me to do?" As he spoke, he pressed his first finger lightly against Pete's hole and Pete's moan was nearly a scream of pleasure.

"Fuck me," Pete requested, kissing Mikey's jaw.

"Now, that's not how we ask for things, Peter," Mikey said softly. "Ask nicely."

"Please!" Pete gasped. "Please fuck me, please."

"As you wish," Mikey whispered and slowly pushed his first finger in, giving time for the man below him to adjust.

"Fucking hell," Pete panted. It always hurt at first, but the pain slowly ebbed away, leaving only the warm feeling of passion in the bit of Pete's stomach.

Mikey started to pump his finger, leaving Pete to be a mewling puddle of a man beneath him. Then, with almost no warning, he pushed in his second finger, and Pete dug his nails into Mikey's back, his noises silenced to almost nothing by Mikey's mouth on his own.

He scissored his fingers, savoring how he made Pete squirm and whimper beneath him. Without realizing he did it, he curled his fingers up and Pete moaned loudly.

The third finger brought with it the loudest moans and the sloppiest kisses yet. By the end, both were hard to the point that it hurt, and Pete was mumbling for Mikey to "hurry up, I swear to God, please".

Mikey gripped Pete's waist and slowly slid in, feeling Pete's fingernails drag down his back. It was painful, he had to admit, but if felt damn amazing at the same time.

He pulled out slightly and thrust back in, Pete throwing his head back and moaning. Pete's face held a beautiful expression: eyes closed, mouth open just so, his cheeks flushed. There wasn't a better look in the world, Mikey thought.

Pete wrapped his legs around Mikey's waist, pulling him deeper in, and Mikey kissed down Pete's neck, the mattress squeaking with the force of Mikey's thrusts.

"Mikey..." Pete panted out. "I'm g-gonna—"

"C'mon, baby," Mikey purred, kissing the corner of Pete's mouth. Pete reached down to finish himself off, but Mikey gently pushed his hand away. "Cum untouched," Mikey told him.

"Keep talking and I will," Pete said with a small giggle.

Mikey took this as a challenge, and he said: "Oh, Pete. You're amazing, sweetheart. I love you, Pete. I love you so much."

"Oh, God!" Pete cried and came all over their stomachs, his breathing becoming hard and labored. This was the end for Mikey as well; he came inside of Pete, his lungs refusing to work the way he wanted them to.

Heavy breathing filled the now-silent room. Mikey pulled out and rolled onto his back, pulling Pete into his arms. "I love you, MikeyWay," Pete said quietly, sleep seeming to be coming for him.

"I love you too, PeteWentz," Mikey said quietly, pressing a kiss to Pete's temple. "Are you gonna sleep now?" Pete nodded, yawning, and he pressed his face into Mikey's chest, almost immediately falling asleep.

Did I hurt him? Mikey worried, examining Pete. Red marks covered his neck and jaw, and his short hair was tousled.

Mikey slowly slipped out from underneath Pete, finding and pulling on his boxers, then pulling on his pajamas. Humming slightly, he found his red shirt and gently worked Pete into the shirt and his own underwear.

He then picked Pete up as if they were wed, and carried him to the bathroom, Pete waking up slightly. He made a questioning noise but Mikey shushed him, setting him on the counter and unbuttoning the shirt once more.

"It's okay," Mikey whispered and wet a washcloth, gently dragging it across Pete's stomach. He opened Pete's legs slightly and slipped inbetween his knees easily, softly kissing Pete on his slightly-bruised lips. "Just cleaning you off. You're safe, babe."

"You're so sweet," Pete murmured as Mikey continued to clean his stomach, taking special care of the heart bat tattoo lining his hips.

"What is this?" Mikey asked, smiling at the tattoo. "I can't figure it out."

"It's just a little thing I used to draw all the time," Pete said. He moved slightly on the counter, holding back a laugh. "Sorry, it tickled."

"It's okay," Mikey said, his voice echoing in against the walls. He deposited the washcloth on the side of the sink and buttoned the shirt once more, picking Pete up again.

"You don't have to do that," Pete said. "I must be heavy."

"I am a supernatural being of the night that thrives on the blood of others and possesses the power to lift three times my body weight," Mikey said. "I think I can handle carrying my petite boyfriend ten feet back to the bedroom."

"If you say so," Pete said in a sing-sing voice and buried his face in Mikey's shoulder.

Mikey gently placed Pete on the bed again, pulling the covers over him. Mikey slipped in next to him, sleeping finding him quickly. The last thought he had before falling into sleep's embrace was: Jesus Christ, he's so light, he's a little woodland nymph.

Notes

Haha ok I'm an idiot. Pete Wentz's birthday is June 5; it's Ray's birthday that's July 15. I got them mixed up... So now, in our little world, Pete's birthday is on July 15. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And also, the combination smut/fluff always gets me, because that's what I want: to have sex with a guy (or girl. Or gender queer. That's cool, too) and then do something horrifyingly domestic afterwards.

I realized that I overshare information with y'all. Fuck it. Also, sorry for typos; it's 4:00AM and my phone is being a bitch.

Current mood:


xoøli