Roman woke up slowly, feeling disoriented. Then the memory of the previous night came back suddenly and he sat up with a start. He looked around and realized he was still in Peter's bedroom. In bed. Naked. Next to Peter. Who was also, as far as he could tell, naked. Roman drew both of his hands through his hair slowly, trying to compose himself. So that really happened.
He looked over at Peter who was still fast asleep, lying on his side, facing the upir. He was only half-covered by a thin blanket. Roman lay back down slowly and studied his friend. He was hit by the random thought that Peter had an unexpectedly low amount of body hair for a werewolf. Not that he was complaining. Before he even realized what he was doing, he had put his hand on Peter's chest, running it through the soft curls.
Peter made a soft grunt and opened one eye. Roman withdrew his hand instantly.
Peter grumbled something like 'yushuphojen'. Roman narrowed his eyes. "What?"
The werewolf groaned and sat up. "The nanny."
"Huh?" Roman responded stupidly.
Peter rolled his eyes.
"You should call Jennifer. You know, the woman taking care of Nadia? Or did you tell her that you would be out all night?"
Realization dawned on Roman's face. "Fuck!" He jumped up and started searching for his phone in the pile of clothes scattered on the floor.
Peter was suddenly fully awake, admiring the view. He couldn't remember ever thinking of another guy as beautiful before, but Roman definitely was beautiful. Breathtakingly so. Even rifling through a pile of clothes, cursing under his breath, he still looked like some Greek God sculptured out of marble.
The upir found his phone and made the call. He started pacing the room while he talked. At one point, he turned around suddenly and caught Peter staring at his ass. Roman cocked an eyebrow at the werewolf. Peter stared back nonchalantly.
Roman hung up the phone and gave Peter a look. It was his trademarked cocky, bad boy, come hither look. Peter wasn't fooled. He'd seen the real Roman last night and knew that this was just one of his masks. Still, if the upir was more comfortable with this, he could play along. He looked up at Roman, all innocence.
Roman advanced on the bed slowly, growling quietly. When he reached the bed, he shoved Peter backwards and jumped on top of him, placing a hand next to the werewolf on each side, pinning him to the bed. Peter couldn't stop himself from grinning. Roman responded with a low growl.
"I'm gonna wipe that grin of your face.", the upir hissed at him.
Belying his harsh words, Roman slowly kissed his way down Peter's body, running his hands over the werewolf's stomach at the same time. Now it was Peter's turn to growl. Roman made a satisfied hum.
Peter was learning all kinds of new things about his friend. For example, he wouldn't have thought that Roman was the kind of guy that's much into foreplay, but boy had he turned out to be wrong on that one.
The upir suddenly stopped and Peter looked up to see what was wrong. Roman was looking at him, clearly asking for permission for something. Ah. Peter suddenly remembered something his grandfather used to say. He was too little at the time to fully get it, but now it came back into his mind. It was something about not trusting a cop, never lending anything to a gypsy and never, ever, getting a blow job from an upir.
He considered. Without wanting to, he wondered when Roman had last eaten. Did he trust that his friend was that much in control of his true nature? He could see the look of devoted eagerness on the upir's face turn into a hurt expression. Probably he had been able to read something of Peter's thoughts on his face.
Finally making up his mind, Peter smiled reassuringly at the other man and gave a small nod. Roman grinned like the cat about to eat the canary and went down on him.
The last thing Peter wondered, before coherent thought left him completely, was if Roman had done his jaw unhinging trick after all, because whatever he was doing, it was certainly some superhuman feat.
