Title: Don't Call It A Crush
Author: Donnie
Fandom: South Park
Setting: Larry's Bedroom
Pairing: Mike Makowski/Larry
Characters: Larry, Mike Makowski, Larry's Family
Genre: Romance
Rating: E
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 6004
Type of Work: One-Shot
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Pining, Self Deprecation, Larry-centric, Masturbation, Anal Fingering, Anal Penetration, PWP, First Time
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Larry didn't usually think these kinds of thoughts, but they wouldn't stop and he didn't know what else to do about it.
AN: I decided to write this after I woke up this morning with the thought in my head. I really hope it works out. I wrote this in 100 minutes during some Pomodoros for the Rick And Morty Big Bang that I'm part of. I decided to do this instead, and I'm really happy with how it turned out. I hope you guys enjoy!
EDIT: This is mega old. Sorry. I have sixteen fics to post and seventeen that need edited. If you're someone that can edit for all kinds of fandoms, please message me. I really need some help.
Fandoms needed for betaing what I have so far: Saw, Insidious, Insidious/Saw Crossover, Fallout 3, Heathers, Heathers/Dismissed Crossover, South Park/TheVVitch Crossover, Assassin's Creed, Kick-Ass, Left 4 Dead 2, Dragon Age and Until Dawn.
Don't Call It A Crush ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was almost impossible for Larry to sleep. A clear conscience was not something he took very lightly, and the idea that he was stuck in this hellhole of thought was probably only making it worse. Every minute past his bedtime that he didn't sleep was wearing on his very soul. Could he ever sleep again? Would this be the death of him? Was there any way to get any kind of a break in this life?
Rolling over, again, onto his stomach, he glanced over at his bedside table. There, smiling back at him, was a picture of him, Mike and Ryan that they took at Casa Bonita for Mike's sixteenth birthday party. They were in front of the waterfall with the cliff divers, and the three of them were totally drenched but absolutely grinning their little fangs off. They looked so happy.
Jerking one of his arms out from underneath the bulk of his body, he reached forward and stroked the picture, Mike's cheek to be honest, and sighed. What was he going to do with himself? Here he was, seventeen years old, suffering through his first real thoughts about sex. Was he really going to let this crush of his go further?
If he were honest, he'd do anything for Mike. Literally anything. He'd read something in a horoscope website once that a Pisces would probably take dictation from a dictator. Mike certainly wasn't that kind of leader, but he was most certainly someone that enjoyed telling him what to do. It… Definitely made things hard on him, though. Why did he have to enjoy being bossed around so much?
All of his problems today seemed to stem from the morning he'd had. Being part of the yearbook committee with his friends meant that most of the time, they all told him what they wanted, he made it happen, and they chatted amongst themselves while he worked. This was all fine and dandy, he was just glad to be busy and with them, except that Mike had been hovering over him pretty much the entire before-school session.
Just feeling the heat radiating off of his fellow vamp kid was enough to leave his breaths ragged and his mind blank, and he'd had to resize the same image six times before finally giving up and trying something else. A heavily laden arm, covered in bracelets and wraps and the like, reached over his shoulder while a very familiar hand pressed against the other one, and Mike pointed at the screen.
Larry had felt incredibly stupid having to ask him to repeat himself thrice before finally nodding along like he understood. What the fuck was he going to do, now that the image was in his head? He usually did so good at ignoring these things, but today he'd been rather pitiful at it. The last straw had been feeling those warm, gentle hands gliding up the slope of his shoulder and resting, thumb on the back and index finger around the side, on his neck. A thrill had shot through him, and he'd gone stiff the second Mike patted his neck and walked back over to see what Katie and Annie were talking about.
From that point on, Larry floated through his day. He couldn't tell you what was said to him, what he learned, or even what he'd eaten for lunch. In fact, he was pretty sure anything he'd said had come out on autopilot, and he'd knocked into walls and even tripped over a trash can at one point. The stinging in his knee was only a problem when he bumped it or scraped it across his suddenly-too-soft sheets.
All he could think about was Mike. Mike's hands, Mike's smile, Mike's voice, the way he lisped because of his fangs, the playful roll of his eyes, the way he watched Larry whenever he accidentally tilted the mirror down when helping him fix his makeup. Everything about him made Larry's body electric, and he'd been all he could think about all damn day.
Even at night, he was plagued with it, incapable of doing anything more than staring and trying to stay anchored in reality. But no, every chance he got, his mind would sneak in little things, things he knew he shouldn't be thinking about.
"Mn… He'd never forgive me." Larry tried, whispering into the quiet of his room, a desperate attempt at quenching this thirst. No matter how much juice he drank, he'd never stop being thirsty for Mike, apparently. This crush had always seemed so harmless, so inconvenient, until recently, when everything seemed to come crashing into the Hormone Train.
"Never…" But the finger that had been pressed to the picture frame dropped slowly onto his bedside table, and after another sigh, he watched it inch closer to his body again like it didn't belong to him. Idle hands are the Devil's playground. He could hear his mother saying it in ten different tones all at once in the back of his mind, but somehow, it didn't matter. It wasn't like his hands were going to be idle in a minute.
Of course, that didn't mean that he was going to be very good at it, anyway. With his luck, he'd end up hurting himself and never be able to use his dick again. Maybe that would teach him right! There was nothing in his head that said that Mike deserved this, to have his best friend lusting after him like some kind of sex crazed lunatic. Not that that had always been a part of it.
He could vaguely remember a time when it was just awe. Mike was awesome, not in the way that he was just 'cool' or 'really cool', but that he was awe inspiring. His speeches always meant something, one could see the passion in his words, in his eyes. His arms were open to everyone that wanted to come to him, and he reshaped them. Anything that Mike wanted done would be done. He'd earned Larry's loyalty first, perhaps, but the loyalty of the entire Vampire Society had been his in a record amount of time.
It only turned into more sometime after his own sixth grade year. Mike was in seventh grade, but still made an effort to sit with Larry, his best friend, despite their slight age gap. He'd realized that he didn't just like Mike, but he could easily consider himself more than the other's friend and he'd be totally fine with it. For a long time after that, he wrote about it in his second diary, the decoy one having very little information that actually appealed to him in it. The first was usually there to keep his uncle out of his private thoughts.
But his mind wasn't there anymore. It was in awe of something new, the feeling of his calloused fingertips pressing purposefully into his hip bones, the soft skin of his belly and down around his thighs. The black boxers he wore were silky, probably another big mistake, and he'd forgone his shirt when midnight had rolled around and he'd ended up too hot, too sweaty, to imagine keeping it on. He supposed his Twilight shirt could find a new home on the floor, if only for tonight, if he didn't tell anyone.
Should he roll over? Get on his back and sort this out? Or did he stay on his stomach? Maybe he should have done more research than this. And by 'this', of course, he meant 'winging it.'
He knew other kids his age were having sex. Hell, probably younger than his age. Mike certainly had had his fair share by now, and the thought only further shamed him and colored his cheeks. There was no way that chest wasn't burning up, too, and he thought for a moment that he needed to roll over before he caught the bed on fire. His back arched and his hips arched up, hand sliding down over his hip again and eliciting a low moan.
That was… New. Maybe this wasn't such a bad position to be in. Carefully craning his neck to the side so that his face wasn't in his pillow after the move, he reached both hands back to slide his boxers down over his hips, then his thighs. The juncture of his knees proved to be a little more difficult, and after an unsuccessful attempt to lift one leg, get it free, and then the other, well, he ended up on his floor, tangled in fabric. Great.
With any luck, his thump hadn't been heard, or would just be considered him falling out of bed, which he'd done countless times before. Crawling back into bed, shame written on his face, he licked his lips and repositioned, head on his pillow and another couple underneath his hips. Biting down into his lip at the cool, soft feeling of the pillow against his throbbing cock, he gasped softly and let out his breath through his nose. Now that he thought about it, it was probably a little too much to think about with his family home.
Eyelids screwed shut, he rocked his hips a little, biting hard into his wrist at the sensation rocketing through him. His entire body was on fire, and he only had a fleeting thought of covering up with his blankets. At this point, it would probably get messy and awkward, and at least he had the door locked, as per usual.
Mind flitting to the bottle of lube in his bedside table, his eyelids fluttered open and he glanced at it. Ryan had given it to him as a 'joke', but Larry had it in his head that it was probably only called one because of his terrified reaction. From what he did know, it would make the whole process a lot easier, at least. Finally reaching a quaking arm forward to grab the handle, he pulled it slowly so as not to end up with everything on the floor.
Pulling it out, he popped the cap and found himself incredibly disappointed when the full bottle didn't let anything out. With a frown, he looked into the spout at the top only to see that there was some kind of foil preventing him from continuing this. That would not stand, naturally, and he unscrewed the cap, careful not to throw it in his frustration, and sat up reluctantly to pull it off. Which was, apparently, easier said than done.
Struggling with the damn thing proved to be futile, and when his regular teeth didn't work, he finally punctured it with the special-order vampire fangs he wore, proud of himself for finally having the money to get the good ones. Pushing the foil down quickly, he screwed the cap back on and laid back down. Another little whimper escaped him as he worked himself back into the right position, his cock dragging against the soft pillowcase causing his hips to hitch.
Pouring a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, pillow and mattress, he winced a little at the mess and the cold liquid alike. This was it. There was no going back from the dark place he was going to go to next. With a deep breath, he slid the slickly coated hand back, the other pressed tight to his mouth to muffle him, and tapped his hole like that might be enough.
It wasn't. But it certainly did make him croon into his wrist, biting down tighter with those fake fangs and feeling his skin threatening to give way. Nothing mattered but his pleasure, right now, though, and his fingertip carefully eased inside, a gasp on his lips flavored heavily with Mike's name.
Eyelids shooting wide, he stared at the headboard of his bed for several moments, as if the man himself might come running, ready to berate him for that. When nothing happened save for the gentle whooshing of the white noise machine in the corner of his bedroom, he gulped. Still for a couple more seconds, he waited, listened, thought to himself about what he was about to do.
Mike would hate him if he found out about this. He'd lose his best friend. Hell, he'd probably lose all of his friends. There was no evidence that Mike would ever throw him out, sure, but this was a pretty egregious offense, having such an awful crush on your best friend. So much so that you decided to jack off to him.
But… What Mike didn't know wouldn't hurt their relationship, right?
Mumbling a quiet prayer into his own arm to any entity that listened to desperate little gay boys, he decided to simply say 'fuck it'. It would only be this one time, right? It wasn't like he was so into the idea that he'd do this every night for the rest of his life.
Hopefully.
Fingers moving again, he rocked his hips slightly, trying to get a feeling for just how much he could move without knocking over his pillow tower. If he could get some real movement, then he'd probably feel better quicker. Already, his prick had started to leak, leaving a filmy wet spot against his belly and his extra pillow. Thankfully, he slept with ten of them. He could easily just wash that one in the morning.
With that settled, he returned his attention to the finger pushing between his cheeks, starting slow to avoid getting hurt. The first push inside tensed his entire body and he gave a muffled whine, jaw tight around air, this time. 'Relax' because his mantra, and he repeated it several times while stiffly rolling his hips into the pillow, trying to remind himself that this was supposed to feel good.
He'd never been more thankful, however, that he was so into personal hygiene. A sudden thought almost propelled his hand as far from his body as possible, before he reminded himself just how prepared he'd actually been. Letting the information soothe him a little, he closed his eyes again and focused.
Mike smiled softly at him, those pretty stormy eyes glinting as he bared his fangs. Sunlight spilled through the open window in the other's bedroom, illuminating the dark brown of his hair. Larry noted absently that he probably would need to dye his roots again. He was talking about something, probably the next meeting or more stuff for the Yearbook club, or even something else that they did often. But all that mattered to Larry was that he was, in fact, talking. Heart hammering in his chest, he suddenly lurched forward to press his mouth to Mike's, catching the older vampire off guard. At first, Mike didn't move, didn't say anything, eyes wide as he just stared. When Larry pulled away, shyly rubbing his hair back and spitting apologies like sunflower seed shells, Mike shook his head. Laughing in that warm, perfect way that he did, he pressed a single finger to Larry's lips and silenced him just like that. It didn't take long before he'd all but backed Larry down against the bed, laying on his back, with the elder male hovering above him. That gentle smile was back, if not tainted a little with the interest this sudden information had given him. "What was that for, Larebear?" Mike whispered softly, the words fanning out over his neck and making the younger vampire shudder, "Did you need something?" "I-" But no other words came out. Another chuckle, and Mike rolled his eyes playfully, leaning down and taking Larry's lips for his own. The moan that left him was as surprised as it was loud, and Mike shook his head with a grin. "Ah, ah, ah, Lare. You need to, ah… Keep it down, per se. My parents are home." Just the idea that they could get caught sent another lighting strike down his spine, electrifying every nerve ending and leaving him entirely still and ready to obey. Once Mike seemed to think his words would be heeded, their mouths pressed together once more and he lead the other in his clumsy kisses. Working their mouths into careful 'O's against each other, he hoped to get Larry a little more acclimated to the feeling. His hips dropped, suddenly, resting and grinding against the younger vampire, and Larry had to bite his lip to keep from screaming.
Larry's teeth had finally done it, bitten right through the thin skin on his wrist. Blood flowed steadily into his mouth and he whimpered a little, the taste and feel of it on his tongue only pushing him to rock and thrust his hips harder. He was up to two fingers, now, pushing in and out, too impatient to wait until he actually got to the good stuff to start pleasuring himself. Trying to think through the haze in his mind, to embed himself back into his fantasy, he reworked it just enough to help himself along, moaning lowly into his bleeding wrist.
A sharp tug on his lip and the thin skin split, Mike's sudden interest in it only spurring Larry's hips to roll up into the other's. Having the blood sucked from his lip, feeling how the action made Mike's cock throb against his own was absolutely perfect. Were he a little bit more willing to potentially die, he would have opened up all the veins he had for Mike, if he kept this up. Moments passed and Mike's hips were grinding so hard into him he was sure he'd be bruised. Finally, the elder broke contact and looked down, eyes heavily lidded and tongue swiping over his bottom lip, catching the last droplets and watching the dribbling flow down Larry's chin. "Pants off. "Shirt, too." It was an afterthought, they both knew it, but Mike needed to see all of him. "Naked." He finally said, "I… Need to see you." That was all it took to practically have Larry moving at light speed, jerking up to get out of his vest and shirt, bonking his head against Mike's chest and kissing it a second later. Gulping audibly, he looked up, breath caught in his throat for a second. That intense blue gaze landed on him, those eyes bright and clouded over with lust at the same time, was enough to have his hands shaking. The little smirk when Mike noticed just the kind of power he had over Larry didn't help his situation in the least. "Larebear, what's the matter? Bat got your tongue, per se?" He questioned, dropping down onto his arms again and crawling up over Larry, enjoying the sudden drop of the other's blue eyes to his cock as it bobbed between his legs. "I- I-" "Call me… 'My Lord'." Mike whispered against his earlobe, tugging lightly at the gauge he found there before sliding his mouth down lower. Opening his mouth with a soft, wet sound, he clamped down tight against his pulse point at the same time their cocks came into contact again. A grunt from Mike and a rather loud hiss from Larry filled the room, and a few more jerky thrusts were all it took to convince Mike that he had to get Larry to beg him for more. "Come "M-My Lord!" Larry squeaked, desperate to stay quiet but unsure if he really could. All he wanted to do was moan and scream and carry on, give Mike the show he really deserved. "I- I need-" Mike's free hand slipped down his side, dragging his long, sharp nails against his sensitive skin, and poor Larry couldn't take it. He let out a loud, drawn-out moan, rolling his hips up. Already leaking against his belly, it wouldn't be long, now.
Three. He'd gotten up to three damn fingers and he wasn't even anywhere near the part he wanted to get to. It probably didn't help that, at this point, he wasn't sure he could even last that long. It wasn't like he could really stop himself, either, the harsh thrusts into his pillows nearly toppling them over. Falling was imminent, and he wasn't sure that he even had it in him to stop long enough to get into a better position. Or get more lube, for that matter.
Toes curling and face turning to press into the pillow under his head, he finally decided it would be better to roll over onto his back to finish this, even if it might be harder to reach his ass that way. His side, maybe? That might work out better.
It took all of three minutes for him to wind down enough to remove his hands from himself, leaving him panting and sticky and wet, gasping into the cool air of his room. Pushing the pillow tower away from himself and letting them fall to the floor, he flopped onto his side and lifted one leg up high, closing his eyes again. Where was he?
"I've got you, my little bat." Mike cooed into his ear, sucking his way back to the bite mark he'd left. It really did hurt, but somehow Larry wasn't turned off by it. If anything, it was probably a huge turn on. Suddenly, Mike pulled back entirely, sitting up on his knees and taking in the veritable buffet that was his best friend's body. Boy, was he going to leave him covered in bites. "Now, what do we say?" "P-please, My L-L-Lorrrrrrrrrrd," Larry whined, head falling back as his back arched beautifully, giving Mike a really good idea, "Please, I- Anything. Anything y-you want." Anything, huh? Soft, smooth hands gripped the underside of Larry's thighs, and he yanked the other up his own to rest his hips against Larry's ass. Leaning down enough to get the other's knees bent over his shoulders, Mike smirked. His poor little second in command was shaking, now, eyelids fluttering, makeup a smeared mess, and he looked damn Instead, he pulled a bottle of lube out from under his pillow, scooting Larry up so that he was practically folded in half, to drizzle his grasping hole with the slick liquid. His fingers were next to get the wet treatment, before he swirled them a couple of times to get Larry used to the feeling. Stormy blue eyes shot down to catch Larry's, but he missed entirely. Coal-laden eyelids had fallen shut, and he bit tight into his lip, desperate to keep himself quiet. It was honestly kind of cute. Dipping one finger inside to the knuckle, he shushed Larry quietly, bending over him to kiss his lips while his free hand stroked the other vamp's cock. Any minute now and he'd be inside the quaking teen before him, and there was such satisfaction in his heart that it leaked into his smile. "Relax, baby bat, you'll feel good in a minute, I promise. You can do it, I know you can." Mike whispered into his mouth, a choked sob of a moan leaving Larry's lips as he nodded slightly, the awkward position he was in making it a little more difficult to move his neck. "Good boy." After a moment, some careful breathing, and lots of kissing, Mike's gentle encouragement bore fruit. Larry's body all but sucked him in, and the first few thrusts of his digit had the younger teen already babbling uselessly against the bed. Swirling his finger inside and keeping up with steadily stroking the other, Mike kept his eyes on Larry's face. He was beautiful like this, positively glowing, uncaring of how he looked. It had Mike practically salivating at the thought that he could take apart his poor virgin friend and put him back together again. By the time Larry was a panting, moaning mess, mouth hanging open and eyelids heavy over his eyes, Mike figured it was time for another finger. Easing it in on the next push inside, his own hips bucked up at the hot, satiny muscle clamping down on him. That was going to be around his If Mike
There had to be a way, somehow, to keep from blowing too soon. There was no way that all of that talk about hours of sex meant that they kept just… Coming. Did it? His hips stuttered the closer he got, and his fingers simply assaulted that sensitive bundle of nerves he'd discovered on accident. It was hard not to moan and shout, which was probably why it was fine in his head. Hopefully it didn't transfer over.
Slowing his hips a little, he realized with a creeping, dawning horror that he wasn't going to be able to bite his lip or his arm to from losing it too soon; it would probably, actually, just keep him barrelling towards his release way too soon. Absently, he wondered what would happen if he derailed and thought of something else for a moment, but immediately all the alarms in his head went off. If he dared try and do that, this might never come to fruition and he was not about to waste all of this guilt and effort for nothing.
Squeezing his eyes shut and giving another solid grind into the mattress, and then his hand, he clenched his jaw tight before turning his head into his pillow. If he could just last long enough to get to the best part…
After three fingers finally took the plunge, the pair of them grew too impatient. Mike was ready to have his prize, and Larry's fears of blowing his top before Mike even really got inside of him was really dragging it out. In a moment's notice, Mike's hands were both on Larry's hips instead of inside him, or on his dick, and he was lowering the other enough to get him situated. "Are you ready, darling?" Mike purred sweetly, smiling down at him even as the world shifted and turned on its side. Just hearing that, seeing the other above him, knowing was was coming, was going to undo Larry's entire self. He gulped a little bit, nodding and offering his own soft, shaking smile. There was no way he could be expected to speak right now, not after all that had happened in the last… However long they'd been at this. Right now wasn't the time for math. With another pop of the cap, more lube was poured over him, and then Mike's cock, before he finally positioned just right. Tugging his lip into his mouth, Mike kept an eye on Larry's face as he slowly sunk inside. It was a little more difficult than he'd thought it would be, if he were honest, to keep his eyes open. Larry felt "T-tell me… Tell me how much you want it." Mike murmured, only about halfway inside and struggling to keep himself still. It wouldn't be long before what was left of his patience shattered, but Larry was good for nothing if one couldn't keep promises he didn't know he'd made. "I- I w-want… Want… N-Need you, My- My-" He couldn't get it out, not the first couple times, stammering and stumbling over his words before finally squeaking, "Please, My Lord!" Thankfully, that was just enough to get them both what they wanted. Bottoming out in the other's tight body, Mike let out something more akin to a snarl than a moan, crashing down on his arms above Larry while he tried to reign himself in. It took him several seconds before he could move, too afraid that it would be the end to their good time, and when he did, Larry found that he was not at all ready. So very full and already so close he was drooling, both from his mouth and his prick, it was a miracle that he didn't all but explode the second that warm, slick friction began. Dizzy with arousal and high on Mike's scent, he gripped the sheets before grabbing at Mike's forearms, holding on for the ride. Within a minute, Mike's hips pistoned forward, ready to bury himself in the other until neither of them could walk for a few days. Larry managed to peek open one eye, and the sight of Mike, eyelids closed and brows furrowed, hair sticking to his forehead and neck, the rest of it following his every thrust, if not a little delayed. His tongue swiped over his lips, and Larry thought he'd never be able to see anything else again. Mike was perfect, above him like that, and there was certainly no coming back from this. A certain desperation leaked into Mike's movements the closer to the edge he got, and Larry was feeling the brunt of his need for more friction. Pushing back up onto his knees, both of those long fingered hands gripped his hips, helping to keep him still. A couple hard snaps, followed by a languid roll and some grinding of his hips against Larry's ass left Larry's gaping mouth soundless, wanting to moan but unable to get a single noise out. Even Mike was having a hard time with it, with holding back and keeping himself focused. His toes curled underneath himself and he used his grip on Larry's hips to leverage him back and get his hips up in the air. The new angle challenged both of them a bit, but it was more than worth it. Mike managed some kind of broken warning, Larry's body being way too much to handle at this point, and while the brunet tried to catch up, Mike bared down. A rush of warmth filled Larry's body while a growl of pleasure left Mike, his head falling back on his neck and long hair practically pouring over his shoulders.
Choking on his moan, Larry found that that was all it took, the sight, no matter how fake, of his best friend's orgasm in his mind's eye was plenty of fuel to send him rocketing off. Biting into the pillow to stifle the loud groan leaving him, he painted his sheets white while his mind went blank. Everything stopped for a split second; the air in the room didn't move, his white noise machine was silent, the light from his nightlight didn't shift. Even Larry was still, unmoving, not breathing or blinking. He'd never felt so alive before, so sensitive, thrumming with sensation.
Hands quaking as he carefully pulled them off of his body, he glanced around the room for the baby wipes he kept around for his stamping hobby. Seeing them on his desk, he lurched forward like a zombie woken from its nap, waddling to his desk and trying to adjust himself enough that walking didn't feel like such an effort.
Wiping down his hands, thighs, and ass cheeks, he bit his lip. Should he just take a baby wipe shower? He was sweaty and uncomfortable in his own skin, too hot and cold at the same time to be of any use to himself. Still, he wasn't about to leave his room like this. He supposed he could get rid of the sweat in the morning. Now, to handle his bed.
There were two wet spots, one from the lube and one from his own climax, and he bit his lip as he tried to figure out what to do about it. There weren't any towels in here, and this mess was a little big for something like a sock to cover. He thought, for a second, about his underwear, but that probably wasn't a good idea, either.
Eyes landing on his closet, he nodded slowly. A shirt would be his best bet, he guessed. Grabbing one of his white band t-shirts out of the closet, he laid it over both little puddles and nodded a bit more definitively. Yeah, this wasn't going to backfire at all, not even a little bit. Glancing over at his boxers on the floor, he hesitated to grab them. He had just jacked it for the first time, and he wasn't sure he could actually wear them without feeling too sensitive. Fuck it, it was his room and nobody was coming in unwarranted, anyway.
Laying out in his bed, spread until his limbs were off the edges, he sighed softly. He'd never felt this free in his own home. Or this naked in his own bedroom. Pulling his blankets up around his chin, as if suddenly worried someone was watching, he closed his heavy eyelids and fell asleep the first time he started repeating 'relax, relax' to himself as slowly and enticingly as possible. If, perhaps, he heard Mike's voice instead of his own in his head, that was nobody's business but his own.
The next morning was a noon meeting of the South Park Vampire Society, and Larry was running way later than he had in years. Practically running into the community center, he threw the doors open with wide blue eyes, as if he really needed any help looking out of place. Hundreds of eyes were on him, and with a sudden, painful realization, he noted that the meeting was well underway.
Mike's disapproving look from the podium certainly didn't detract from the fact that he was, probably, not in any trouble at all. Everyone struggled with things. The odd limp he had seemed to do nothing more than make Mike nod slowly in understanding and give his friend a soft, knowing smile.
"If you'd like to join the legions of the dead, per se, you should sit in your usual seat, Darkheart." The invitation wasn't lost on him, and he practically scrambled to his usual spot near the front of the room. It was a good thing that his reserved seating was pretty regularly respected.
"Uh, th-thanks, My Lord."
If Larry didn't know any better, he would have ventured to guess that Mike had actually wiggled his eyebrows at that. Maybe he'd just moved one, or both, rose a brow, anything else. There was no way that kind of secretive smile and little chuckle into the microphone was for him of all people.
And just like that, the meeting returned to its former glory, but there was hardly any way that Larry was going to be able to focus on it anymore. At least staring at Mike in this setting was something he was more than allowed to do. If he leaned his chin in his hand and sighed in that dreamy, wistful way of his a lot during the proceedings, well, maybe nobody else would notice.
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