Title: Pumpkin Spice And Everything Nice
Author: Daisy
Fandom: South Park
Setting: Firkle and Michael's Apartment
Pairing: Mike "Vampir" Makowski/Firkle
Characters: Mike "Vampir" Makowski, Firkle
Genre: Romance/Humor
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 948
Type of Work: One-Shot, Part of the Fanfiction-Friends Weekly Writing Prompts
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Fluff, Self-Indulgent Cuteness
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: With Fall arriving, the scent of Pumpkin Spice was in the air. Firkle was already tired of it, and it was only August.
AN: As mentioned above ,this is for the Fanfiction-Friends Weekly Writing Prompts. This week's prompt was Fall, and I couldn't think of anything more fun than writing these two dorks going on about Pumpkin Spice. There are two kinds of people, I suppose. I hope you guys enjoy!
Pumpkin Spice And Everything Nice ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Do you seriously have to spray that stuff so much?" Firkle groused, wincing slightly at his boyfriend's dizzying amount of spiced pumpkin cake refresher spray as it trickled down from the arc he'd tried for.
"It makes the house smell good, pumpkin." The sickeningly sweet tone to the pseudo-vampire was just his usual, Chipper Fall Voice, and it took all Firkle had not to club Mike with the bat-covered pillowcase in his hands.
"Don't go calling me that, next thing you know I'll be Pumpkin Spice and I'll have to kill you. The one thing I hate about fall is that stupid pumpkin mush everyone tries to push on you all of a sudden. And idiots like you just eat it up like it's ambrosia from the Gods." Crossing his arms (and, vicariously, hugging Mike's pillow and making him feel like squealing), the goth rolled his eyes, even if he wanted to smile to show he was playing.
Oh, who was he kidding? It was fun to make his lover squirm.
"Hey, now, idiots like me have enough sense to know a good thing when they have it, at least." Now, it was Firkle's turn to squeal as he was suddenly hefted up like he weighed less than nothing and carted off to the couch. Skirting around the arm, Mike fell back to cuddle the now panicked goth against his chest, petting over his hair and placing wet, open-mouthed kisses over his bare shoulders.
"I don't know if that's entirely true, you little ass." Firkle finally ground out, looking rather like he might turn around and bite the other. Of course, the little spot just below the angle of his jaw disabled him on sight, as soon as it was laved over with a pierced tongue and sucked for good measure. "You are so lucky you're good at that or I would have kicked you in the nads so hard-"
"I think you very much would like for those to stay in working order later tonight." He nearly purred in the other's ear, licking over the lobe before pulling it gently between his teeth. Always gentle, it was one thing Firkle could count on with the elder man.
"Oh? Let me guess, PSL flavored edible G-string?" For a startling moment, Mike held his breath and tried to school his face into a pensive, somewhat embarrassed expression, and as Firkle rolled to look at him, his blue eyes shot open wide. "You didn't."
"Did I?" A fake-fanged smile greeted him, somewhat shy and definitely maddening.
"Did you?" Now, a scowl was overtaking the younger's face, and Mike leaned in to press a kiss to his temple, considering Firkle wasn't about to let him have his lips for misbehaving.
"I didn't." He assured with a soft laugh, nuzzling his nose against the other's hair. "I promise you that. But I did get PSL flavored creamer, the liquid kind."
"Ew. Coffee is best only if it's dark roast, and black."
"Like your soul, I know. My little spider's so fierce." There was a warm fondness in his voice that had the slighter male squirming a bit before shoving Mike's own pillow over his face. "Hey!"
The squabble didn't last long, as it usually went, and by the end of it, Firkle was on the floor between the couch and coffee table with Mike above him, kissing lovingly at his neck and the piercings in his collar bones.
"At least I was going to suffocate you with your favorite pillow." Firkle laughed breathlessly, his back bowing a bit as slender fingers dove over his bare sides and rubbed at the small of his back.
"I suppose you do owe me that much, don't you?" The elder chuckled, trying for dark and mysterious but ending up with a snort that had them both cackling soon enough.
"Can you believe it's already fall?" Mike questioned after their laughter had died down to the occaisonal sputter or chortle.
"August isn't even over yet. It won't officially be fall until the Autumnal Equinox." Always the buzzkill, it seemed, Firkle gave a wheeze as Mike dropped his weight on him to press his nose to the spot underneath his ear.
"It's fall." He groaned, obviously dismayed by his boyfriend's unwillingness to let it be what it was, "It's fall, I say."
"And the illustrious Count Fagula is the one to say when fall begins? You would want to rush Mother Nature and heed her wrath?"
"Don't turn this into another Elder God debate, please." This was something of a squawk, and Firkle couldn't help the laugh rumbling in his chest.
"Then get off, because you're heavy." Helping to shove the elder back up onto his arms, Firkle smiled up at him softly. "Anyway, I guess I owe you that latte, don't I?"
"Frappuccino, because it's too hot out. Even for fall." Mike tacked the last bit on when a skeptical eyebrow nearly shot up into the goth's hair. "Come on, boo, we need to get up and grab a shower, first. Don't make me man handle you into bathroom, I'll do it."
"Fine, fine. But then you have to wait for me to get all made up."
"I know. I like to watch, anyway." Kissing his nose, Mike pushed himself up and tugged the other to standing, ushering him with a light smack to his posterior to their room and, after, the bathroom for their shower. As soon as they arrived, Firkle gave an anguished moan.
"Pumpkin spice soap, already? I'm going to reek."
"You mean smell amazing."
"I mean reek."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN:
I really want to see if people get the reference with the pillow. ouo