"Baby….I'm Home!" Jerome yelled, slipping his bloodstained jacket off of his broad shoulders. He placed it on a slim sliver hook bolted into the wall, a couple droplets of fresh, crimson blood trickling down the wall.
"It's about time!" Peaking his from the kitchen doorway, Mitch smiled warmly. He walked out of the threshold, and then leaned against the cherry oak frame. "What took you so long this time?" Mitch asked, crossing his arms over his chest judgmentally.
"You know exactly what…" He shut the door carefully. Mitch strutted away from his spot and over to Jerome, tenderly pecking him on the cheek.
"Yeah… Do you want me to throw in the wash?" Mitch said, reaching over to grab the soiled blazer off the wall. Studying it carefully, he laid it across his forearm, his ever cautious index finger trailing through the wet mess. "Cause it's covered in blood, it's even dripping!" Mitch said, gesturing to the small puddle underneath the hook, and the small, narrow trails along the white wall.
Jerome snorted a bit, bursting into a silent fit of laughter. "Yeah, Yeah I know, could ya? And no need to freak, it's just blood…" He waved it off walking over to the couch.
Mitch rolled his eyes playfully, smiling sweetly. "Fine, I'll do it, but I have a question first…"
"Hhm?" Jerome said, sitting down on the couch, hands reaching down to undo his boots.
"How haven't you got caught yet, what with you coming home covered in blood almost every night?!" Mitch asked incredulously.
"Apparently, I'm too good, of people are really stupid… but I think I'll go with the whole 'I'm too good' thing." Jerome chuckled, looking at Mitch walk across the room over to the basement doorway.
"You're so arrogant you that…. Especially for a serial killer…" Mitch smirked, running his blood covered hand across Jerome's cheek. He then walked down into the furnished basement, tossing the jacket into the washer.
Jerome paws pulled the knots apart on his boots. These weren't just regular boots, they were three sizes too big, a 13 compared to Jerome's 10. He always took precautions like this when he went on one of his 'killing sprees', we couldn't have him getting caught could we?
"You should really learn how to clean up after yourself, instead over making your boyfriend do it… shouldn't you?" Mitch said. It was very quiet due to the clamor of the machine muffling his voice as well as his footsteps. However, Jerome could hear it perfectly, his keen ears picking up on the near silent voice.
"I know, but you're so much better at it..." Jerome yelled back, placing his boots on the far end of the couch, on the floor. He laid back on the couch, closing his eyes briefly then cracking them open when Mitch got up the steps.
"Did you get any blood on you?" It was a simple question the answer was literally on his face.
"Oh… I don't know…" Jerome said sarcastically, "Do you not remember wiping blood on me like… five minutes ago?"
"Yes I remember that, I'm not that stupid…" Mitch said, rolling his eyes at his counterpart. "But seriously though… you should shower… If you do have blood on you, I don't want you on the couch… it'll stain."
Jerome chuckled. "That's all you're worried about…the couch!" He facepalmed, holding his hand up to his face, softly shaking his head back and forth.
"Just… get in the shower." He commanded, voice still, stern, and calm. He crossed his arms across his chest. That one of the things that he would do that could get Jerome to do whatever he asked, within reason of course.
"Fine…" Jerome complained, dragging the 'i' out way farther than it should have been. That did not make Mitch happy at all. He would not tolerate Jerome's attitude and Jerome knew it.
"Oh quiet… Stop your whining, I'm making you shower, big deal!" Mitch said looking at Jerome with a piercing gaze. He took one hard step closer to Jerome before he put his hands up in surrender. Sure Jerome was a serial killer and Mitch should be afraid of him, but Jerome was terrified of Mitch when he was in a bad mood. Mitch wasn't really scared of him, sure he was a beast when he went out to go on a spree, but inside Jerome was just a big, fluffy teddy bear.
"Okay…Okay calm down, I'll shower… only if you come and shower with me." Jerome smirked a bit and Mitch slapped the back of Jerome's head. It wasn't meant to hurt him, just to get him to shut up.
Mitch was always willing to compromise, but he wasn't really in the mood right now to go take a shower with his boyfriend, but then again, at least he'll be clean. Clean Jerome and possible sex, uhm yeah that one.
"Fine I'll shower with you… I didn't take mine yet anyways," Mitch said quietly. One part of him hoped Jerome didn't hear but the other part just wanted out of his mood. Jerome finally perked up and basically dragged Mitch to the bathroom, losing his tie and dress shirt somewhere on the floor.
"Whoa! Calm down there!" Mitch yelped as Jerome pushed him against the bathroom door. He pinned Mitch wrist up above him with one hand, the other grasping Mitch's chin, pulling it up forcefully. Jerome locked their eyes together, his normal pale jade eyes turned a soft, yet deep shade of black. Well, they were still green, but they more had more black in them than usual. It was lust, lust for him and him alone.
Very little about Jerome bothered Mitch, I mean he wasn't even fazed when Jerome told him that he was a cold-blooded killer. The only thing that bothered Mitch was his eyes, oh his eyes. They were so hypnotizing, Mitch couldn't help going into a trance.
"What's wrong babe~?" Jerome asked, sharp teeth grabbing on to the top of Mitch's ear and softly nibbling on it. Mitch shut his eyes tightly, breathing hitching. Jerome smirked, pulling away from Mitch's ear. He gently patted Mitch's cheek three times with his middle and fore finger. It was their own little form on morose code, each one of his fingers and the taps he placed all meant different things. Mitch obeyed the silent order without fault, opening his mouth just enough that his teeth weren't showing, just his pale pink lips and his tongue.
Mitch opened his eyes and saw Jerome looking at him, his one tongue licking at his own lips. "Yummy~. You look delicious right now Mitch~" Jerome purred. Without Jerome knowing it, his eyes had gone back to their original state, lifting Mitch from his spell. Jerome licked Mitch cheek, his rough tongue trailing downwards.
"What do you think you're doing!?" Mitch yelled, after the spell had broken. He pushed Jerome away from him, however not without a peck on Mitch jaw.
"What else would I be doing? Other than you~" Jerome said. Mitch pulled his wrists from Jerome's grasp, pivoting on his heel as he walked into their shared bedroom.
"Jerome. Shower. Now." Mitch commanded, silently shutting the door. Jerome stood out in front of the bathroom door. He shrugged before walking in and closing the cherry oak wood behind him.
Mitch leaned against the door. He sighed, slightly relived yet pissed. "That was so close…"