7 Natal Day

Though Michael's birthday wouldn't be for almost another week once he was back home in South Park, Pete insisted that they do something special while he was in town. They made a day of roaming around to the usual places, trudging through the snow. They walked through cemeteries, perused the secondhand bookstore then sat down to eat in an artsy diner.

Pete laughed when a waiter and waitress came out from the back to sing happy birthday to Michael who was beyond embarrassed. Eating a chocolate ice cream cake, they retired Pete's place for a few hours before the younger goth had to go out to meet with a study group for class. With a little time to kill, Michael walked around town to buy a few things for something he had planned. Since he hadn't specifically asked for anything from Pete, his friend was frustrated when he didn't know what to gift him. As Michael set up in Pete's room, he smiled to himself; Pete would give him the gift he wanted when he got home, he was sure.

Pete entered his own dim bedroom which was lit with several candles along the walls.

"What's this?" Pete asked somewhat comically looking around in bewilderment as soft shadows danced with the flames that moved upon his and Michael's entrance.

"It's romantic," Michael responded, not forfeiting his intentions to sudden scrutiny. Sure, it was maybe a little lame but Michael had always wanted to do things like this with someone.

"Real people consider this romantic?" Pete asked, still looking around the room. Though the statement could have been cynical, the considerate tone in Pete's voice and his entertained smile suggested he was slowly warming up to the idea.

"Unless of course, I'm just a figment of your imagination," Michael countered. He faltered a little for a moment before asking, "You don't like it?" Pete turned toward him with simultaneous apology and amusement written on his face.

"It's just," Pete began, his eyes looking around again. Pete wanted to say that it was a little cheesy, because it was, but he decided against since it was just him and Michael; there was no one to judge them. And frankly Michael's tenancy toward the romantic could potentially be refreshing and altogether lovely. "You're going to put all of my previous relationships to shame," Pete concluded instead with a comforting smile.

"I should hope so," Michael commented as if that was his intention all along and he returned Pete's smile. As Pete turned his back to him to eye the candles about the room, Michael approached the shorter goth, wrapping his arms around Pete's waist to pull his back against his front. He looked over Pete's shoulder who turned his head to look up at him. Michael leaned around a bit, his hands wandering beneath Pete's shirt, to plant a firm though somewhat awkward kiss on the corner of the young man's lips.

Michael's hands swept up Pete's front and the shorter goth's hands rested over his. As his lips fumbled clumsily with Pete's, his fingertips rubbed pale, pierced nipples to hardness, gently at first before building in pressure. Michael's attention too harsh for comfort as if testing Pete's tolerance, Pete took those hands and guided them lower where their actions could be put to better use, in his opinion anyway. As Michael's hands continue on their path Pete skillfully stripped off his shirt to deposit it on the floor. Long fingers unbuckled Pete's belt and pulled it with a somewhat harsh motion from the belt loops. That too was thrown to the side before Michael's hands unbuttoned Pete's pants which fell to the floor. Pete watched Michael's palms press flat against his lower belly as they slowly lowered and fingertips disappeared before the brim of his boxer briefs.

Pete pressed into those hands which compensated by drawing him back against Michael. Two hands gripped him, one tight around his shaft while the fingers of the other fondled his head and Pete quickly grew to full arousal. He thrust wildly and without restraint, effectively fucking Michael's hands. Hot breath brushed his ear as Pete took Michael's hands in his own beneath the dampening fabric of his boxers. He squeezed Michael's hands encouragingly, as if he could tighten the already fantastic grip on his erection. Pete stopped thrusting altogether then and the end of that hypnotic tempo tore Michael back into awareness.

"No more or I'm done for," Pete exhaled in an unsteady gust of breath between his lips. Michael nibbled at the space where Pete's neck met his shoulder for a moment as they tried to cool down. His hands roamed and toyed with the hair around the base of Pete's erection for lack of anything else to do.

"Come here," Michael said then as he stepped slowly backward and sat on the edge bed. He drew Pete to sit between his legs and they rotated so their legs extended toward the foot board. Reclining against pillows and the headboard, Michael's hands again roamed along Pete's front before the shorter goth spoke.

"When can I touch you too?" Pete said with more composure this time.

"Let me have my turn just a little longer," Michael replied with a soft chuckle. Pete who was rather enjoying himself tried to ignore the aching desire between his legs, remembering that a little denial would build the intensity of his orgasm that would come later. In no position to argue, Pete let Michael explore his body. As hands fondled his belly and chest, Pete's relaxed indulgence in Michael's curiosity was interrupted when the curly haired man spoke again. "Lift your hips," the deep voice in his ear instructed as long fingers drew the edge of his boxers downward. Pete complied as his underwear was efficiently lowered to his knees before he took the moment to pull his feet from them altogether and tossed them to the side.

Leaning back against Michael again, Pete placed his hands over the ones that gripped the space between his erection and inner thighs. Long fingers fondled lower, one hand exploring the crevice that began beneath Pete's sac and the tip of a middle finger teased him. Spreading his legs invitingly, Pete pressed backward into Michael's chest who accepted the warm pressure. Not noticing that a hand had left him, Pete was surprised when he opened his eyes again in the midst of Michael's lack of movement to find a candle slowly tipping over his chest.

"Oh," Pete exhaled as hot, pink wax dripped toward the center of his chest. He was a little startled by the slight burning sensation which slowly subsided as it cooled before another drip hit his pale flesh.

"Does it hurt?" Michael whispered, teasing Pete as the candle moved toward his bellybutton and another hot drip fell. Pete's hands moved suddenly in response then, taking Michael's hand from his groin and drawing it upward. A little startled, Michael's hand with the candle hesitated before his thumb was drawn between Pete's lips. Still trying to concentrate on dripping the wax on Pete, Michael had difficulty keeping his composure, distracted by the sucking of Pete's hot mouth. The long fingers wrapped around the candle began to tremble and Michael's plan to tease Pete by threatening to drip hot wax on his cock was foiled.

Michael had to lower the candle and clumsily place it back onto the bedside table before he plunged two more fingers into Pete's mouth. Without hesitation, Pete compensated for the intrusion with more suction and a wet slurp.

"Fuck," Michael breathed, realizing briefly he had denied this mouth from previously having contact with his own excitement and wondering why he would have done such an atrocious thing. Pete withdrew the long fingers from his mouth before lifting himself from Michael's front. Uncertain whether his breath had been restricted in fervent concentration on the lips about his fingers or the pressure of Pete on top of him, Michael found himself reluctant to feel the slightly asphyxiated sensation subside.

However, that consideration left his mind altogether as the naked Pete turned around to face him, seating himself comfortably on Michael's lap with that soft grin on his lips. Michael couldn't help but feel Pete suspected his intentions and had purposely broken them off though he couldn't confirm his suspicion. Pete distracted him by pulling off his shirt, sitting up to allow the fabric to leave his body as it was drawn over his head.

"I want you naked too," Pete demanded in that soft yet alluring voice.

Michael nodded clumsily in response, too distracted to remember his usual self-conscious state of mind as Pete moved so he could remove his pants. As he took the edge of his boxers in his hands Michael hesitated and Pete met his eyes expectantly. Exhaling slowly, Michael turned his eyes bashfully downward as his hands quickly removed the last of his clothes. He lay back again, face burning and feeling for a moment as if he had no right to be aroused until Pete maneuvered to sit on his dark haired thighs. Refusing to look up, Michael could see on the brim of his eyesight that Pete was leaning forward and when a hand tightened around his erection he admitted defeat. Taking a familiar candle in his hand, Pete held it over Michael's chest as pink dripped down onto his skin. Shocked at the sudden burning sensation, Michael's attention shot up and he peered at Pete who sat back, knees bent on either side of his hips. Another drip fell and Michael was lost when Pete suddenly thrust forward, rubbing their cocks together in his fist as the burning returned and receded. Pete's hips moved in a steady, painfully slow motion and Michael rose a hand to his mouth as if it could contain his expression of pleasure. Not only were their erections pressing together, but the weight of Pete's balls on Michael's massaged them with steady heat.

How Pete managed to simultaneously maintain the thrust of his hips, squeeze their erections together and drip wax gradually down Michael's front was beyond him. Watching the candle slowly pass the coffins tattooed on his hips and approach their rubbing erections and the threat of impending burn upon Michael's member excited him beyond explanation.

"I'm close," Michael hissed and suddenly Pete's hand left them to the curly goth's dismay before hot wax dripped on his belly just above where their erections still touched.

Pete bit his lip as another drip fell on the heads of their cocks, dripping from the side of Pete's onto Michaels. Hissing over him, Michael fidgeted hopelessly and Pete smiled deviously as he looked up. After all, Michael had a low threshold of pain, but Pete was pleased that his partner's erection didn't shrivel as another drip of wax fell upon them. In fact, despite Michael's upset expression, he was trembling and twitching beneath Pete. With Pete over him, receiving the same hot drips of wax as him, Michael couldn't make himself work up the gall to make him stop. He needed to endure what Pete could as if it were a matter of pride.

Michael had put his arm over his eyes as he lay back in the pillows and was only torn from the searing on his cock when he heard the glass jar of the candle meet the bedside table. He didn't move until Pete took his arm and removed it from his face. Michael opened his eyes as Pete took his lips with wet, hungry fervor. Sighing into the kiss as Pete bit at his lip, a hand stroked his cock and chips of cooled wax pealed off of him.

Again Pete sat back on his thighs, distracted as put KY on his fingertips and massaged it with his thumb to warm the lubricant. Michael watched with anticipation as Pete's finger lowered past his own erection to press into himself. Pete leaned back, his weight on his free hand as he exposed himself for Michael's viewing pleasure. Licking his lips inadvertently, Michael was glad there was no contact on his person or he would have cum very quickly watching Pete like that. He swallowed as two more wet fingers filled Pete quickly, unbeknownst to him, the younger goth had prepared a few days ahead of Michael's visit. But he didn't need to know that.

"A condom," Pete breathed, his mind in a lewd haze. Michael nodded, reluctant to tear his eyes from Pete, as he blindly felt for the beside drawer and tore open a little packet. Pete held out his hand expectantly and Michael handed it to him. Placing the condom between his lips, Pete leaned forward, putting the condom on Michael's cock with his mouth.

"How, -oh fuck," Michael breathed as his sheathed head met the back of Pete's mouth. He wanted to ask how Pete knew how to do that, but maybe he'd find that out later, for the moment there were other things for Michael to concentrate on. Pete's mouth quickly left him, leaving Michael coated in a thin, smooth film as the goth with red streaks lifted himself over his partner.

Pete gripped Michael's cock in his hand as he lowered himself, pushing past the tightness of initial penetration until he sat all the way down. Michael breathed, trying to keep his composure in the tight, nearly painful heat within Pete as his body rose on his cock and descended again.

Michael laid on the bed, looking up at Pete who rode him for his own satisfaction. Michael's own pleasure was enhanced by watching the almost painful pace of his partner's pleasure seeking hump of his hips. Pete's self indulgence was ideal for Michael, who wasn't so well versed in the art of intercourse and this allowed his friend to be guaranteed orgasm. Michael could tell Pete was getting close as he leaned back, his palms pressing down into the mattress to support himself as he made short humps up and down Michael's prick. As his hips jolted forward and back and forward again Pete's pierced cock bounced and Michael was gifted what he considered one of the greatest sites he'd ever beheld. Pete let out his voice without restraint, having found just the spot and pace to bring him release as Michael reached forward. He pinched Pete's nipples, rubbing them between his fingertips around the metal bar that ran through each in excitement.

"Ah!" Pete cried, losing himself as Michael touched him. Pete's arms barely kept him up as they trembled and his body slumped. He endured for just another moment as he rode Michael, consequently squeezing the member within him as he came.

Blinded by his intense orgasm Michael didn't even realize Pete had climbed off of him to lay at his side until he felt a towel come to his chest to wipe it clean. Micheal turned his head toward Pete and leaned up to kiss his damp cheek. Pete looked down at Michael as he blindly fumbled to wrap the towel around the used condom and slip it off of Michael's soft member. He glanced down to wipe Michael as clean as possible before he tossed the towel across the room. Pete fell back down onto the bed, the thrum of his heart in his chest still subsiding as he wiggled up to Michael's side. Playing with Michael's hair mindlessly, Pete was withdrawn from his near sleep state when the curly haired man spoke softly.

"Did that hurt?" Michael whispered as he reached down to touch the metal bead that rest on the edge of the head of Pete's soft member. "I mean, compared to the others," Michael added, considering that he knew they all hurt to some measure.

"Probably the most intense thing I've experienced," Pete responded, unperturbed by Michael's curiosity. "Pain wise," he added, considering there had been equally intense moments of pleasure in his life as well.

"I like it," Michael said absentmindedly. "And these," he continued as his hand trailed upward near Pete's bellybutton piercing and higher toward his nipples.

"Do you want one?" Pete asked curiously.

"I always liked those single bead ones, they're fancy," Michael said sleepily.

"Microdermals," Pete responded, his finger twirling a dark curl beside Michael's face.

"Yeah. Right here," Michael pointed toward the center of his chest just below his collarbones.

"That'd look nice," Pete whispered in his ear.

Michael responded only with a gentle 'hm' as he and Pete descended into sleep.


"What am I doing here again?" Michael asked as he sat down on the table in the center of a small sterile room. Pete looked over to him, drawing close.

"Getting that microdermal you said you wanted," he answered.

"I never said I wanted it."

"I don't know, you seemed to have put quite a bit of consideration into it before," Pete encouraged with a teasing smile.

"That was after throws of passion," Michael countered and the female piercer glanced at them with a raised eyebrow. "I wasn't in my right mind."

The piercer left the room for the back to pick up things from the autoclave. Pete's eyes followed her exit as he leaned his lips close to Michael's ear.

"But these here are so nice," Pete said as he traced the brim of Michael's ear with his lower lip, hot breath dancing across sensitive skin. He could be so stubborn sometimes but Pete knew Michael's indecisive nature could be won over. It was just like when they were younger and Michael mentioned a new ear piercing but his uncertainty eventually discouraged him. So Pete became that encouragement when he brought a pack of needles, antibacterial soap and a hoop over to Michael's and had him take a seat. That hoop was in fact the same one Michael wore to this day, or so Pete seemed to remember. "And I think this microdermal would really suit you," Pete whispered.

He withdrew as the piercer entered the room again and Michael scowled at the floor.

"Having second thoughts?" she asked and Michael looked up at her.

"No," he said quickly, resigning himself to his new found courage.

"Okay, then can I just have you remove your shirt and lay back," she requested and Michael complied.

During the next few moments while Michael endured the considerably low pain caused by the punch though his skin, Pete sought out the man's hand regardless and their fingers entwined.

As Michael sat up he crooked his neck trying to look down at his own chest before turning toward the mirror. He rose a hand which was swatted away by Pete with a quick, "Don't touch it, your hands are dirty."

On the way out Pete tipped the piercer and they walked back to Pete's place.

"You know, you didn't have to pay for it," Pete said as he glanced at Michael.

"Yeah, but I'm the one with a full time job," Michael said, as his fingertips brushed over the little knot on the front of his shirt where the micro-dermal hid beneath a band-aid.

"But it's your birthday," Pete insisted before finishing, "And I'd pay to watch you miserable any day." He smiled, eying Michael's face expecting a snide remark or for him to roll his eyes.

But Michael only smiled gently in return, because whatever misery Pete intended for him to endure, Michael would gladly accept. After all, Pete's subtle curiosities and ideas had only ever been beneficial for Michael, though he'd never admit it to the shorter goth.


Perhaps Pete was over-thinking things when he considered how long he'd known Michael and the idea of spending a future together. He had a bad habit of doing that, dwelling on what was to come with no answers to his open ended questions. But Michael had a tenancy to think nothing of the future beyond the following month when he was scheduled to work, would get paid and maybe visit Pete. So Pete thought it was alright for him to think ahead for Michael sometimes, especially when it came to their potential life expectancies.

He was a little nervous about giving Michael the gift he'd gotten him though. Pete finally convinced himself to hand it over since Michael would be departing the next morning. Handed a small box wrapped in glittering black stars, Michael unwrapped it with an excited light in his eyes.

"What the fuck is this?" Michael looked down into the box he'd unwrapped, asking with genuine curiosity and a bit of concern.

"An electronic cigarette," Pete said as Michael looked up at him with a slight grimace.

"What am I suppose to do with this?" Michael asked as he lifted the silver pipe-like object in his hand.

"You smoke it," Pete said obviously.

"That's what I have cigarettes for," Michael responded stubbornly, frowning.

"Yeah, but this still gives you a dose of nicotine, produces a water vapor and doesn't have all of those nasty chemicals," Pete explained. He had prepared himself to do a bit of explaining.

"I like my cigarettes just fine, thanks," Michael said. He couldn't pinpoint why this frustrated him so much, perhaps if Pete wanted to 'improve his lifestyle' then so be it, but he didn't have to drag Michael into it.

"But cigarettes are such shit for you," Pete said, his patience tested. He wanted to tel Michael it was taking years off of his life, but Pete knew this wouldn't work. After all Michael didn't have any particular obsession with living, he just did because it was what he could do before death. "And they make you smell bad," Pete's tummy turned a little, maybe that wasn't the right insentive.

"You never complained about me smelling bad before," Michael said, legitimately offended. He went to considerable lengths to smell quite nice and that remark shot right through his pride.

"Since I stopped smoking I can smell better and every time you're around you wreak of it," Pete said. "I mean, you smell nice otherwise, but the smokey smell invades my senses and makes my head hurt." That was funny, Michael could have sworn just after Pete quit he indulged in that smokey essence he still carried around, now he was changing his mind and acting all superior.

"I'm not using this," Michael said angrily, putting the item back into its box. It was unusual for him to be the offended one fueling their feud, but this drove him up the wall.

"Fine, never mind," Pete said, getting up from the couch to go into the kitchen and wash the dishes from the dinner they'd cooked together. Michael stared at the thing in the box with distaste.

They didn't speak much for the rest of the evening and Michael even avoided the awkward moment that might come from sleeping in Pete's bed by staying on the couch. He had to get up in the morning to catch the bus and Pete wouldn't be there anyway since he had to get to class even earlier.

Micheal pretended to sleep when Pete came into the living room, heading for the front door before he paused. Michael was usually a pretty heavy sleeper, but sometimes he just lay there with his eyes closed to think too. Listening intently, Michael heard the footsteps approach him and his dark curls were brushed back by gentle fingertips before lips met his forehead.

"I love you," Pete whispered and Michael's heart sunk to the pit of his stomach. He wanted to wake up and snatch Pete's lips, but instead he continued to feign sleep, his stubborn tendency overwhelming his logic. An hour later he awoke and got ready before heading for the bus stop.

As he dug for his cigarettes, he found a cold metal thing packed in the same pocket and sneered. Michael looked down into the pocket to find a small unopened box still wrapped in paper printed with glittering black stars. Sighing, Michael opened the box he thought he'd left behind at Pete's house, damn him. It was a variety of cartridges for the electronic cigarette and Michael's curiosity got the best of him when he caught sight of pina colada among classic tobacco, magnificent menthol and java jolt.

It wasn't as though Michael had to let Pete revel in his victory by telling the him he used the cigarette after all, so what was the harm. As he lit the thing and breathed in, a subtle fruit taste invaded his senses which was altogether rather pleasant. Afterward Michael still lit a cigarette in defiance.

After the bus ride, Michael dwelled on what Pete'd said and grew angry when he kind of craved that pleasant fruity taste again. He got into his bedroom and inhaled. Did he really smell bad? Michael couldn't tell, he'd always been around cigarette smoke, even when he was a kid since his mother was a smoker. He frowned and dug out his music collection from under his bed to organize another selection for a podcast. Michael couldn't care less about gaining a following for his podcast, it was just something to do and he enjoyed sharing his collection with a potential audience. Not to mention it was a great way for him to keep a level head and avoid dwelling on things.

But as he began to rifle through the CDs Michael noticed the slightly yellow tint of the plastic and looked around his room. The pages of his books had grown yellowed over the years from smoking in his room, and there was a light film over surfaces that hadn't been dusted or touched in a while. Michael frowned, that film was a little gross since he finally noticed it and again he thought of the electronic cigarette.

Pulling it from his pocket, Michael dug the classic tobacco from his bag and loaded the cartridge into the metal apparatus. The electronic cigarette did at least look kind of neat, more impressive than a cigarette since it more resembled a pipe but didn't have the inconvenient quality of the tobacco being able to fall out of it.

There had to be more of a reason than Michael's smell for Pete to insist that he stop smoking. After all, it wasn't as if it was such a huge request, even if Michael had been smoking since his early teens since Pete had gone to the lengths of finding him an alternative. Did he really intend to break things off between them because he was too stubborn to cave into Pete's request?

Michael flopped back onto the floor and lay there, staring at the ceiling while he smoked the electronic cigarette and reminisced about the amazing night they'd had two days before. His free hand mindlessly touched the piercing on his chest through his cotton shirt. Frankly he'd much rather have a repeat experience with Pete than to worry about his desire for a smoke, and Michael got up.

He spent the following few days cleaning that yellow tint from everything in his room. Though he didn't get online to talk to Pete for a few days, when he did he sent a link to his new podcast and didn't bring up the cigarette at all. He'd let Pete be surprised the next time they were together. It might warrant a reward for Michael anyway, and he enjoyed thinking up what they could do for their next encounter.