Title: You Are The One
Author: Donnie
Fandom: South Park
Setting: Stark's Pond
Pairing: Mike Makowski/Firkle
Characters: Mike Makowski, Firkle
Genre: Romance
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 564
Type of Work: One-Shot, Part of the Fanfiction-Friends' Weekly Writing Prompts
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Mentions of violence
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Mike was either very brave, or very stupid.
AN: So, I finally got around to writing again. xD Let's hope this keeps up. I'm working on something big on paper that I hope to be able to post fairly often to once I get some backlog done. ^^ Anyway, this week's prompt was courage, and I think I had a good enough idea for it. I hope you guys enjoy!
You Are The One ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I still don't know why you asked me out here." Firkle rose a brow, crossing his arms and coming to a stop in the snow. He wasn't going any further if Mike didn't explain himself. "Talk, or I'm going to shank you and leave you for dead."
"Uh…" Mike turned slowly, looking at the smaller male. It had taken a lot of courage to get Firkle out near Stark's Pond, and he wasn't sure he had the balls to keep going with his plan. After all, it was likely he'd be shanked regardless. "Well… Firkle," He started, tipping his head to the goth before him, "I… Wanted to tell you something."
The murderous look in those oceanic eyes told him he probably should have done this with people around. Inviting the goth out to somewhere void of any witnesses was starting to feel like a bad idea.
"Well? Tell me." The unspoken order in the slant of his eyes was enough to have Mike nearly jumping and he nodded emphatically. If he saw Firkle bend down to get his knife out of his boot, he would definitely have to start running. Mike had a solid eight inches on the kid, but that didn't mean that the eighteen year old wouldn't catch him and his long legs if he didn't do this right.
"O-okay, um. Well, I…" Trailing off, he found himself staring at the way the younger's lip pooched out a bit, the awesome power behind his eyes, and the way his every movement was fluid like water. Okay, he needed another tactic. "I think…" He started, getting a shocked expression from the younger.
"Wow, you do?" Trust Firkle to make him feel more self-conscious about this.
"Y-yes, I do." He stammered, while trying to suck in a deep breath to calm himself. Closing his eyes, he only opened them again when he heard the crunch of snow.
"Stop wasting my time, Mike." Firkle spat over his shoulder, hands in the pockets of his black, feathered pea coat. An unexpected large hand on his shoulder, tugging him back around. Without thinking, Mike crushed their lips together and held Firkle by the cheeks as he slowly evened out the kiss into a gentle press of lips. Desperate, but gentle.
When he finally pulled back, Mike was a panting and exquisitely hopeless mess. Firkle looked up at him, lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss, and the elder could see the cogs turning in his head.
"You're brave, Mike." He started, slowly, "Kissing me like that. Is there something you'd like to say?" If anything, the vampire leader definitely had his attention, now.
"I…" Words caught in his throat and Mike gulped, closing his eyes and trying to focus, "I like you." Okay, so that was the understatement of the year, but it was a start, at least.
"Well," The goth began slowly, letting his eyelids droop to half-mast as he leaned in for another slow kiss, drawing a gasp from the other, "I suppose I could grow to like you, too."
With that, he turned on his heels, suddenly gone from Mike's grasp as he walked away.
"I'll see you tomorrow night at the cemetery gate, Mike. Roughly nine P.M."
"O-Okay." What a pathetic sentence to stammer, but he let the other go, and touched his tingling lips as he watched him leave.
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