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Michael’s week had been long, tiring, and above all else, shitty. So, the guys decided to cheer him up with the only logical solution: attending a hot, sweaty, liver-destroying party. After all, there was nothing like unlimited alcohol and conspicuously hidden roll-ups to soothe the soul. At least, according to Paul.
The guys had decided to move the party elsewhere, and by elsewhere, he knew they meant they were appropriately lathered enough to start hunting under the last few hours of moonlight.
Dwayne pulled himself together through giggles, suddenly aware they were parting ways and that their favourite half-vampire was about to make the journey back on his own.
‘You gonna be okay getting home, Mikey? You look smashed, man. One of us can always fly you back to the cave real quick before we start… y’know’
Curse vampires and their insanely high alcohol tolerance. Curse his mostly human body, which always tried to keep up despite knowing the inevitable outcome.
‘Nahhh, you guys don’t have to worry about me-' he interrupted himself with an unconvincing hiccup, ‘-it’s not even that far back to the ironworks anyways.’ With that, the three guys watched his attempt to get back on his bike. That is, if you could even call it an attempt, as he suddenly became hyperaware of how the ignition slot kept moving away from him as he stabbed his keys into the air.
‘I swear this thing doesn’t move usually-’ he let out a resigned sigh as he realised he may, in fact, be too drunk to approach the idea of getting his keys in the ignition, let alone driving back.
Marko clapped a hand down on his shoulder. ‘You sure you’re gonna be okay, dude?’
Michael waved his hand dismissively. ‘It’s fine, guys, I could use the walk anyways-’ he pushed his weight off the bike, losing his anchor ‘-need to sober up so I don’t wake up David when I get back; he’d be so mad.’
Paul snorted, ‘Not as mad as if we left you to walk back by yourself. Stay there a minute, okay? Just need to find the nearest phone booth and give him a call to come pick you up.’
‘Yeah, it's just over that way,’ Dwayne pointed in a direction that vaguely resembled forward.
Paul slapped him on the arm, ‘No, you idiot, it’s over that way!’
‘Guys, it’s fine, really-’ Michael insisted.
Marko grabbed the two vampires by their collars. ‘Ladies, ladies, you’re both beautiful. And I think you’ll find it’s over that way.’
Michael, ever the people-pleaser, decided that simply walking home would be easier. That way, he’d already be back by the time they’d found a phone booth, and they wouldn’t even need to worry about him. So, amidst the squabbling and scuffling, he made what he believed was the only logical decision, and wandered off into the night.
Little did his drunken brain know, the journey was at least an hour now that he was doing it on foot. But alcohol would surely make the walk feel faster, right?
——
‘Guys. Where the fuck did Michael go?’
‘Oh shit. We’re so dead.’
‘Not if we find a phone booth first!’
The three unanimously scrambled to get hold of David in the hopes that he didn’t kill them for losing his boyfriend. That was the one thing they always seemed to forget about Michael on nights out. In every other aspect of his life, he may have been a fighter. But put enough alcohol in the guy? He’d be gone before you could even blink.
———
Michael had been walking for what felt like hours on the dirt-trodden track, but what was realistically more like ten minutes, when a dazzling light rapidly approached ahead of him.
Bleary-eyed and dazzled by the headlights, Michael squinted into vision what was shaping up to be a leather-clad man on a motorbike.
‘Sorry, man-’ he slurred, ‘-I’m just on my way back home. Not looking for any trouble, I swear.’
A low wolf whistle pierced through the silent night air, a voice like silk rising above the engine’s low rumbling, ‘Oh Michael, a pretty thing like you brings trouble with you wherever you go.’
Michael would know that drawl anywhere. He instantly perked up, ‘David! You’re here!’
No longer obscured by the blinding light, he watched his boyfriend hop off his bike and stroll forward to meet him.
Moonlight danced in those amber-flecked chocolate-brown eyes, amusement painting that familiar gentle, teasing, lopsided smirk. Now toe-to-toe, he traced a finger down Michael’s stubbled jaw, sliding downward to hook underneath his chin. They stood like that for a solid minute or two, just taking in the sight of each other. Well, at least for a minute, before Michael burst into giggles at the faux seriousness of the situation.
David took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes slightly as he held his chin slightly tighter ‘Now, what’s a cute thing like you doing out walking out late at night on your own, hm?’
Michael’s laughter quickly halted. His eyes darted around, trying to avoid eye contact that would surely highlight his guilt, only to be pulled forward slightly by David’s grasp.
‘Well, if you must know, the guys were already having such a good night out, and they obviously wanted to get a bite to eat afterwards, and I didn’t want to get in the way. I tried to get on my bike, but honestly, babe, I can’t lie, I couldn’t even get the key in the ignition, and then they were all arguing about calling you and where a phone booth was - which they were all wrong about the direction, by the way; crazy that I’m the one that knows that considering how long you’ve all been alive - and I thought it would just be easier to walk here. And I know it probably wasn’t the best idea considering I’m struggling to walk in a straight line as it is, but I didn’t want to put anyone out or be a burden or get in the way and-‘
David pushed his thumb deftly into Michael’s mouth to stop the rambling. He was enamoured with Michael, but god, could he talk when drunk. A vaguely catholic need to confess to everything and anything that came to mind. He was so besotted with him that usually he wouldn’t interrupt; he loved anything that came from Michael’s lips. But right now, the plan was to get him on the back of the bike and back to the cave, and the rambling was delaying the rest of David’s unashamedly domestic night in. What? Even creatures of the night need time to themselves every once in a while.
He huffed out a sigh of loving exasperation as Michael tilted his head, confused and shocked into silence. ‘One of these days when we next go out, I’m making sure you’re kept on a leash.’
A flush of red crawled up to Michael’s ears and cheeks, and he quickly returned to darting his eyes around, trying to find an interesting tree to look at.
‘Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ David chuckled, humming lowly, ‘We’re definitely picking that back up tomorrow when you’re sober.’ He slid his thumb back out of Michael’s mouth, grinning at the blushing daze he had left his boyfriend in.
‘Hey! You can’t just say-’
Before he could fumble out a response, David dropped his hand to clasp around Michael’s, guiding him gently towards the bike. ‘Come along, darling, let’s get you home.’
Michael stumbled along behind him, leaning into David’s cool touch as he lifted him onto the back of the bike.
He ruffled those unruly brown curls, then started the engine. As if second nature, Michael’s arms drifted around David’s middle. He secured himself tightly, like a sloth hugging a tree as he sleepily tipped his forehead forward onto the vampire’s shoulder. The image had David chuckling to himself.
He stroked Michael’s thigh gently. ‘Good boy,’ he cooed.
That was enough to prompt a whine from Michael’s lips, stirring him from the drunken tiredness that was beginning to take hold under the warm, constant rumbling of the motorbike’s engine.
The bike kicked to life, and the two raced forward into the last dregs of the night.
————
‘Michael. Michael baby, we’re home.’
Somewhere along the way, Michael had managed to fall asleep against David’s shoulder, and had now taken up what was becoming a permanent residence on the back of the bike as he refused to wake up.
He released a groan, ‘Don’t wanna move. Too far. Staying here.’
The vampire chuckled at the blatant refusal, but felt the sappiness clutching at his undead heart at the vulnerability and trust Michael had placed in his hands.
‘Alright, alright,’ he soothed, ‘give me a minute, I have an idea.’
Still half asleep, Michael heard a faint rustling. The next thing he knew, he was swept up in David’s arms, bundled in his long black coat. He turned further inwards, snuggling in closer to the familiar smell of amber, cloves, and half-smoked packs of cigarettes.
David pressed a soft kiss into brunette curls, ‘Almost there, baby.’
He floated them inwards, careful to avoid anything that could jostle the bundle in his arms, finally reaching his room.
Though David roosted with the guys more often than not, even he needed time to himself every once in a while. You could tell it was his room by the swathes of red and black fabric, the copious amounts of jewellery covering seemingly every surface, and the eclectic stacks of vinyl propped up in the corner.
He gently laid Michael down on the bed, who by now had fallen into that state of drunkenness where you weren’t quite dead to the world yet, but would definitely be taking at least five minutes to respond to a single question with a mere grunt. David tugged his sneakers off first, followed by his denim jacket.
‘I know you just want to go to sleep, hun, and I promise you can soon, but do you want some help changing into something that isn’t your outside clothes? Might be a bit more comfy.’
By this point, Michael had latched onto a pillow and was burying himself into the mattress, but managed something that resembled a nod.
David smiled faintly, ‘Okay, arms up for me, love.’ God, this boy had him all smitten and sappy. He wasn’t afraid to own it, but part of him was thankful the guys weren’t here to see; that he had this domestic moment with Michael all to himself.
They then began the ordeal of wrestling Michael out and back into clothing. He was wriggling about in what David assumed was an attempt to help, but only seemed to be moving his limbs in the complete opposite direction of where he needed them. After a solid ten minutes of struggling and copious amounts of laughter, they finally wrangled him into an old band t-shirt and baggy joggers. David’s, of course.
Michael huffed with half-open eyes, ‘Can I sleep now? The walls keep moving, and it’s making me nauseous.’
David couldn’t hide his snort. ‘Yes, darling, you can sleep now.’ He made out to wander over to the wardrobe to find something to change into, only to find a hand latched onto his wrist.
‘Don’t go!’ Michael grumbled.
‘Give me a minute to get changed, and I’ll slide in next to you.’
He seemed mildly put out at the prospect of not having David’s touch, but begrudgingly shifted back onto his side and curled further into the duvet.
He padded over to his record player, silently putting away the last record he left on before rushing out to pick up Michael. He quickly flicked through his albums with a practiced hand, finally landing on the one he was looking for, and gently placed it, setting down the needle. The familiar warming swell of jazz drifted out of the speaker and settled across the room.
David finally returned, lightly drawing the duvet back so as not to let any of the heat escape. Before he even said anything, a head of messy brown curls was instantly lying against his chest.
He lovingly raked his fingers through, humming gently as he picked up a book from his bedside table.
Michael peeked, opening a single eye. ‘What’re you reading?’
The blood still running through David’s veins from his last hunt rushed up to his cheeks.
He huffed dramatically, ‘If I tell you, you’re going to laugh.’
Michael just stared up at him with those wide hazel eyes, batting his eyelashes expectantly.
‘Fine,’ he gave in, ‘I’m reading Pride and Prejudice. Happy?’ He raised an eyebrow as he looked down at his boyfriend. ‘You aren’t allowed to judge; it’s a literary classic.’
‘Hey, my mom loves that book; I would never judge!’ He pouted, peeking up, starry-eyed. ‘Where in the book are you at? Can you… read some to me?’
Trust Michael to always find a new way of surprising him. David brought his hand away from Michael’s head to cup the side of his rosy, alcohol-flushed face. ‘Anything for you, my love.’
‘Her thoughts were all fixed on that one spot of Pemberley House, whichever it might be, where Mr Darcy then was. She longed to know what at that moment was passing in his mind; in what manner he thought of her, and-‘
The low, calm baritone of his voice rolled through his chest, and his free hand continued to massage gently through Michael’s chestnut hair. It wasn’t long before Michael was drifting off to sleep, sighing deeply as he burrowed deeper into that familiar, encompassing warmth of safety.
He pressed one last soft kiss to his forehead, ’Goodnight, Michael.’