Britchell Contribution Fest

They had offered to watch Dawn’s newly adopted kitten while Dawn was running some quick errands. Well, Mitchell had offered – ecstatically – but it was Anders’ lap that the furball had somehow taken a permanent residence in.

He gave the cat one last offended glare before uncurling his hand and inspecting his finger. A tiny bead of blood appeared. Really, it was nothing, but the sight of the blood still made Anders feel queasy and he grimaced in distaste. You would think that having a vampire for a partner would have cured him of his squeamishness for blood, but no.

Mitchell appeared by his side. “We need to clean that.”

“With alcohol?” Anders asked, casting an optimistic glance at the liquor cabinet.

Mitchell gave him an amused smile. “Water and soap is enough.” He sat down on the couch next to Anders and placed a box of bandaids and a small bowl of water on the coffee table.

“Pity.”

As Mitchell took Anders’ hand in his and used a wetted cloth to clean the small bite, Dusk – the kitten – began to once again meow for attention. When she didn’t get it she instead found a worthy adversary in Anders' tie, repeatedly swiping at it with her little paws and almost falling out of Anders’ lap in an attempt to jump tackle it. Anders used his good hand to keep her from tumbling over but he made sure to keep his fingers away from her sharp, pointy bits.

Having finished his more than thorough cleaning, Mitchell reluctantly let go of the hand. The bleeding had stopped, but he could still smell the fresh blood. It called to him. The pulsating sound of Anders’ heartbeat resonated inside him.

He pushed back the urge. “There, all done. But you need to watch out for any signs of infection. When did you last have a tetanus shot?” He busied himself with fumbling out a bandaid from the packaging.

The vampire’s dilated pupils hadn’t gone unnoticed by Anders. He smiled sinfully. Too bad about Mitchell’s impressive restraint. After all, there should be plenty of time for a little fun before Dawn came back, he thought – his squeamishness for blood all but forgotten in the face of a quick tumble on the couch. But his mother-hen of a partner had instead elected to give all his focus to wrapping up the finger with a perfectly placed bandaid. “How did you become such an expert on wound care,” Anders commented with a teasingly raised eyebrow, but with a smile that hopefully conveyed that it wasn’t entirely unpleasant to be looked after – no matter the size of the injury.

Mitchell returned an appreciative smile. “I suppose when you've worked in a hospital for a while you're bound to pick up on a thing or two.”

“Right. I forgot. Lucky me – a sexy vampire, and a hot nurse – in one handy package.” Anders’ smile widened into a grin and he leaned in to steal a kiss from the object of his fantasies. But before he reached his goal he abruptly cried out in alarm when several cat claws pricked his skin in rapid succession.

Apparently tired of being ignored, Dusk was climbing up his shirtfront. Anders cursed as he tried but failed to get a hold of the little monster. Despite her claws catching on the fabric and his skin alike, her agile, little form kept slipping through his fingers as soon as he got her loose, and soon she had managed to get herself all the way up to perch atop his shoulder, sounding mighty proud of herself.

Anders glared at Mitchell who was making no attempts to hide his laughter. Ignoring him, Anders made a new attempt to grab hold of the persistent kitten – without getting his skin shredded. But before he could get a good grip the little cat had folded her legs under her and nuzzled her forehead into the crook of Anders’ neck. Her purring stopped Anders in his tracks.

Anders’ shocked expression made Mitchell laugh all the harder. Calming himself down, he wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye. “I should watch out. Looks like I got competition for your affections,” he commented happily.With a sigh, Anders resigned to pet the contented furball where she was. “You should worry,” he said, giving Mitchell a smug grin. “At least when she bites me it is a little easier to explain the bitemarks.”

~

“Oh c’mon,” Mitchell said with a smile while putting away the book he had been reading. “It can’t have been that bad.”

“Trust me. I did you a huge favor not dragging you along.” Anders said, addressing the ceiling from his prone position.

“If you say so.” 

Anders frowned. It had sounded like a lighthearted comment, but Anders didn’t like the feeling of being questioned. He hadn’t even wanted to go. He might have been expected to show up, but he knew he wasn’t really wanted. The only reason he went was because Mitchell – stressing the importance of family – had insisted he’d go. Of course, Mitchell had also insinuated that he could come along, if Anders wanted to; but that was a firm ‘no’.

They had only known each other for about 3 months! They weren’t even really a couple. Were they? Surely, it was more of a long-distance, booty call sort of thing?

Annoyed by his own thoughts, Anders raised his resting head off the armrest – ready to defend himself. “Even if Mikkel likes to pretend he is a ‘regular, innocuous human’,” he said letting his disdain shine through, “he is still Ullr whether he wants to or not. I don't know if ‘vampire hunting’ is included in the Norse God of Hunting’s sets of skills, but personally I wouldn't be surprised if he could ping you as non-human right away.”

Mitchell looked like he was about to interject, but Anders had managed to work himself up into a temper and so he plowed on with a little more bite than he had intended. “And if you think that ‘surely he wouldn’t turn on his own brother’s guest without provocation’, then you should know that being my guest is likely all the provocation Mike needs. ‘Cause in his mind, the only reason I would show up to Christmas dinner with a vampire on my arm would be to purposefully stir up trouble. While I don't think he would stake you right then and there – with oblivious humans like Val and Axl present – I wasn’t keen to risk it.”

A lot of different emotions had played over Mitchell’s features during Anders’ heated monologue, but by the end a small smile appeared on his lips. “Careful there. It almost started to sound like you worry about me.” His teasing words were accompanied by a hand that playfully caressed the inside of one of Anders’ conveniently placed legs.

A grin spread across Anders’ face – his bad mood gone in an instant. But when he sat up, Mitchell withdrew his hand with a smug smile. Playing hard to get, eh? Anders thought, not at all discouraged.

“Forget about Christmas and my Anders-prejudice family.” He used a one-hand grip to loosen his tie – signaling that he was more than ready to take on Mitchell's offered challenge. “New Year’s is coming up. Now that’s a holiday much more in my speed.” He swung his legs down from his companion’s lap and with a grin seated himself next to Mitchell. “Booze. Partying. Girls in skimpy outfits.” He placed a hand on the other man’s thigh and squeezed while humming in his most seductive voice: “What more can you ask for?”

“How about some snow?” Mitchell said with a soft laugh pretending to ignore Anders’ advances by turning his head to look outside at the summer twilight. “Celebrating the new year during a heat wave seems wrong somehow. Does it even get dark enough for fireworks here?” The words might sound nonchalant, but the way the turn of the head exposed Mitchell’s neck was anything but. It was all part of the game. Anders should know; it was a move he had used numerous times to incite his guest’s vampiric cravings. And Anders had to admit it was doing a wonderful job on him too.

“Of course it gets dark enough.” Anders leaned in, placing several light kisses on Mitchell’s exposed neck. “But I’m usually busy creating sparkling fireworks of my own.”

Mitchell’s breath hitched pleasantly in response to the attention, but otherwise played successfully at being unaffected. “Have you planned any New Year’s resolutions?” he asked, still looking out the window as if he was determined to try to catch a glimpse of a small speck of frost in the New Zealand summer.

“No,” Anders snorted with a huff. “Why?” He was too busy nibbling on Mitchell’s earlobe to make any lengthy comments.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ve got –ah– a change you want to make? To try to improve yourself?”

Anders congratulated himself on the wobble in Mitchell’s voice but decided that was enough subtleties. He grabbed hold of the other man’s shoulders and pulled himself on top of his lap, straddling him. “There’s hardly a need for improvements when you’re already perfect.” He smiled smugly from his new, superior position. “Or do you think I’m lacking?” His smile widened into a grin, and in case there was any doubt as to what his innuendo was referring to he slyly rubbed himself against Mitchell’s lap, making sure that all of him could be felt.

Mitchell laughed appreciatively. “Definitely not lacking.” He wrapped his fingers around Anders’ tie and pulled him in for a deep kiss before lightly shoving him back again. “And what about me?” he asked with a devilish grin, still with a tight grip around the tie.

The kiss left Anders hungry for more, but Mitchell’s sparkling eyes told him that they still weren’t finished with their little game. He angled his head and with a self-satisfied smile pretended to inspect the tantalizing body in front of him carefully before giving his verdict. “ You might be close to perfect,” he agreed, but then he scrunched up his face and pinched the sleeve of Mitchell’s washed out t-shirt. “But your clothing is anything but. If you really want a New Year's resolution you should let me take you shopping, get you some nice, tailored outfits to really show off your–” his eyes dipped low before coming back up again, “assets.”

“Since when do you care what I wear?” Mitchell laughed. “You're just gonna strip it off me anyway.”

“Can't argue with that.” Anders grinned, sensing that his persistent pursuit was about to be rewarded. “But think how stylish the pile next to my bed would look.” He hooked his index fingers in Mitchell’s belt loops, slid off his lap, and prepared to coax his willing prey with him to the bedroom when he was unexpectedly trapped by a long leg that wrapped behind him, pressing him forward.

Mitchell’s eager grin filled his vision. “How about a pile right next to this couch?”

~