Title: Just The Tip
Author: Daisy
Fandom: South Park
Setting: Pete's Mom's Trailer
Pairing: Michael/Pete
Characters: Michael, Pete, Pete's Mom
Genre: Romance/Humor
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 1023
Type of Work: One-Shot
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Language, Top!Michael, Bossy Bottom!Pete, Fluff, Unbeta'd
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Honestly, for all he claimed to be mature, Pete could do some of the most childish things.
AN: Originally I had this idea before Halloween, but it only now is being finished. xD It came to me before we had internet at the new apartment, and it just… Never got written. I'm trying to keep going today, so this happened. xD I hope you guys enjoy! For the record, Michael is 6'8" and Pete is 5'0".
Notice: I am looking for a beta! Anyone who would like to apply for the position, let me know somehow, be it through comments/DMs/Reblogs/Whatever.
Just The Tip ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Pete, can you not?" Michael asked, annoyed as he picked up the umpteenth piece of candy corn that had just the white tip bitten off. He ate it regardless, even if he had to fight the urge to growl, "The whole thing tastes the exact same."
"If that were true, they wouldn't bother coloring each individual layer. I like the white part the best." Pete responded in that haughty way of his that he usually used when Michael was in the doghouse.
Fuck.
"So you leave me to clean up your mess?" He groused, pulling his legs up onto the little bench seat he was on, staring down at the small dining table in Pete's mom's trailer.
"I would give them to Firkle, but you keep eating it, anyway." Shrugged the younger male, being petty; if only his raven haired lover could figure out what he'd done this time. It was probably another minute, obscure thing that he'd comb conversations over for days to find and still be clueless.
"I don't care what it tastes like." Michael snapped, brown eyes narrowing. White eyes, thanks to his contacts, slanted in return, and Pete purposefully took a really slow bite of the very end, barely getting enough candy to taste it. Then, suddenly, he threw it right at his inane boyfriend's head, managing to get him square between the eyes. "What the fu-"
"I'm a good shot." Pete observed, smirking slightly, "I bet you can't hit me."
Picking up a piece of half-eaten candy corn, the elder male scoffed. This was so stupid. Regardless, he tossed it lamely, not caring enough to even make it near the other.
"Dude, that was such a shit throw. Try again."
"Do I have t-"
"Yes. If you don't want me to kick you out tonight, you have to." That self-satisfied grin only made Michael groan louder.
"Fuck, fine." He mumbled, huffing out his nose as he picked up a piece of untouched, stiff mallow creme, "But if I do this, you're going to stop being pissed, right?"
"Do you even know what I'm pissed about?"
Do I ever?
Something told Michael that wasn't the smartest thing for him to say right now, so he opted for something else.
"I would if you'd tell me." Yes, that sounded pretty good. Like normal boyfriend behavior. That was probably why Pete's eyebrows rose for a second before furrowing.
"What are you planning?" Leaning forward, resting his arms on the table, the large gape of his loose turtleneck falling forward to give him ample room to aim. Just like that, the warm candy shot down the front of his shirt, leaving Pete gasping in surprise, eyes wide again. "What the fu-"
"You said I had to play your game." Michael replied, "I'm doing it my way."
As he did everything. At least he was being true to character, his open plotting apparent and uncertain all at once.
"So, did I win?"
"You scored a point. We're playing to five." Another piece of candy was almost flicked from the smaller male's wrist and landed in the elder's unruly curls. "And I have two points."
"Two?" A frown on the elder's handsome face was suddenly hit with another piece.
"Three."
"Hold on, aren't we taking turns?"
"Fuck, no." Another piece of candy hit him in the neck. "Four."
"Jesus fuck, Pete, you can't just change the rules-" But, Michael was nothing if not a rule-breaker. Suddenly standing and grabbing the whole bowl, he tossed the majority of the candy corn (or what was left of it) right onto his boyfriend. Grinning triumphantly when Pete just stared up at him like he had a moose coming out of his ear, he set the fake-crystal bowl back down. "I win."
"You can't just change the rules, Michael." Pete mock-whined, pouting a little. "You have to clean this up, it's your mess."
"I dunno, I think orange, yellow and white are your colors."
"Fuck off."
"I'd rather fuck on." Another salacious grin pulled onto his lips and he leaned forward, "Don't I get a reward for winning?"
"Yeah, you get to keep your head on your shoulders." Pete growled, crossing his arms, "No dick touches for you. Though, I may let you sleep in bed with me. Innocently. Just sleeping. Maybe. If you can convince me of it."
"Oh, come on, you can't get mad at me for trying to one-up the ga- Fuck!" A handful, albeit small, of candy corn was flung at his face and he put his hands up shortly after, still a bit slow for his tastes. "Pete!"
"I think we're getting closer to even." Pete smiled, softly, now, and rose, letting the candy fall to the floor, "Come here, dumbass." He chuckled, tugging the other over by his shoulders after climbing up onto the bench to even their heights a little. Pressing his lips to the other's, he sighed. "I, the almighty Princess Burr-Pete-O, concede defeat to the power of the Goth Tree. For his earnest victory, he gets," Another press of lips, barely a brush, this time, "A kiss."
For a moment, his mouth opened softly and he let Michael taste his tongue, running his own against the backs of Pete's teeth. Arms wrapped around the elder's shoulders, and large hands spanned the length of Pete's waist as the couple kissed, eyelids fluttering shut and a soft moan pulled from Michael.
"There," Pete whispered, breath washing over the other's chin, "Now, let's… Go do something else. I want to lay down."
"I got you." Murmured the elder, and his small lover hopped up a bit, wrapping his legs around his waist as he carried him back to his bedroom to lay out the smaller goth. With both of them swaddled up in six layers of blankets, Pete was quick to doze back and forth, never one to handle straight sugar very well. Michael wouldn't admit it, but he was just fine holding the other like this; Somehow it was easier if it was with Pete.
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