#mitchers

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"I would never." Anders said decidedly, while simultaneously trying to stay awake. He did not really want to listen to Mitchell describing the insane dream he had a few nights ago, but Mitchell's naked body was plastered to his own, his head on Anders' shoulder, so Anders went along with it.

"That's not the point." Mitchell replied, clearly feeling put out by Anders' less than enthousiastic response. "I hardly ever dream of fun stuff. It's always- you know-". He did not say blood and screaming people, but Anders heard it nonetheless.

"How is dreaming of us running a haunted hotel together fun?" 

"What's not to like? Meeting new people, talking to the ghosts, maybe even helping them solve their unsolved business."

"First of all, so much work, 24/7, always. Running a small business is a lot, could you imagine something as big as a hotel? No thank you."

Mitchell huffed, mumbling something about hiring people.

"That makes it even worse. Bragi would be working overtime to keep everybody happy and working. Managing Dawn is already a fulltime job."

"You're an asshole." 

"My point exactly. It would not be fun to run a hotel with me. Also, ghosts creep me the fuck out."

"How are ghosts worse than a vampire?" 

"You can't fuck a ghost."

"You're impossible." Mitchell complained, but hugging him tighter anyway.

The steam pooled out as Anders stepped out of the shower, feet meeting the floor with a subtle tack as he wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped into his bedroom.

He walked over to his bedside table and pulled his phone off the charger as he saw the screen light up. A notification for a missed call from Mitchell ran across the top as an incoming message appeared right under it, a simple here and nothing else. 

As soon as he put down his phone, he could hear the rattling of the keys and the door opening and close

"Anders?"

"In the bedroom!" He called out.

He heard a soft voice and shuffling before the bedroom door opened. 

Mitchell leaned himself against the entrance, eyes raking up and down his body before he muttered a soft, "hey." 

He looked up at him. "Like what you see?" He purposely let the towel fall as he walked over to his dresser.

Mitchell bit his lip from a smile before looking down and throwing a worrying look off to the side."Can you come out here for a second actually?" He threw his thumb over his shoulder, and gave him a once over. "Preferably with some trousers on."

Anders cocked an eyebrow and reached for clean clothes. "Oh? Don't like?" He pulled a pair of underwear on. 

He waited for what would be the usual suggestive answer to one of his flirts from Mitchell but only received a pressed smile as he continued to peak over his shoulder and around the corner.

He grabbed a pair of pants. "Something going on?"

"What? Nah, just…" Mitchell spared him a brief second of a glance before he was looking the opposite way. He fiddled with the frayed edge of his glove, his tongue licking over his lips before letting his thumb rest on his lips like his nerves.

"Uh-huh" Anders drawed out, quickly putting the pants on and grabbing a shirt. "You're being weirder than normal." He moved past him out to the walkway, feeling a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait Anders before you—" Mitchell tried to stop him but it was too late.

He came to a stop as he looked on at the unknown child standing in his living room; backpack in his hands and wide eyes frantic till they landed on Mitchell.

He cocked his head. "Hello?"

"This is Bernie," Mitchell said, passing by Anders and going to the boy's side with a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Is he your friend?" Bernie looked up at him and questioned.

Mitchell nodded. "A very good friend. Kinda like George and Annie but… a bit different."

Anders stood still in an attempt to make a semblance of sense of everything going on. He blinked. "Mitchell?" He started as said man jutted his chin up with an innocent expression. "Can I speak to you a moment?"

He quickly walked around the corner, not waiting for an answer, and leaned with his back against the doorway to his room, Mitchell following after as he slid in across from him.

He shook his head, staring blankly for a second. "Unless we've somehow defied the laws of physics, please tell me how you have acquired a child?"

"I know how this looks," Mitchell started.

"Oh, you really don't," he snarked. 

Mitchell gave him that look before he continued. "He's like me."

"Please tell me that just means gay and an idiot and not the other thing." 

He grimaced.

Anders' eyes widened. "A vampire!" He exclaimed.

"A vampire," Mitchell meekly confessed.

He suppressed a groan. "Of course he's a vampire," he muttered to himself. Because why else would Mitchell have a random kid with him if he wasn't—Wait… "How exactly is he a vampire?" 

Mitchell opened his mouth but nothing came out.

"Don't tell me—"

"It's not what you think," he pleaded.

"Oh, I think it is what I think, judging by how you're acting."

Mitchell dropped his face into his hands with a groan. "It's a really long story."

"Well, you need to tell me this long story once we find out what to do." Anders brought his hand up, running it through his hair. "Gosh, what do we do? What do we even do, Mitchell!" He exclaimed, lowering his voice halfway through his sentence. "I—we can't raise a kid!"

Mitchell furrowed his eyebrows. "Who said anything about raising a kid?"

"Oh, let me add it up for you, Mitchell. It is exactly—" he pulled up his sleeve and looked at his watch, "ten past six in the morning, I have to be at work in less than thirty minutes unless I want Dawn on my case, not to mention my idiot brothers scheduled A Thing today, and oh, did I forget to mention that today of all days my vampire boyfriend decided to stroll up on my doorstep with a vampire kid in tow that he apparently turned!"

"Anders—"

"Don't Anders me!"

"I care about him, okay?" He interrupted. "When I'm looking after him it's like that other part of me doesn't even exist anymore."

"A child isn't supposed to be a distraction from your hunger, Mitchell," Anders snapped.

"That's not—" Mitchell stopped himself and let out a heavy sigh. "Look, I just need somewhere safe for him to be, then… we—I will figure things out."

He studied Mitchell down with a look. A part of him felt guilty—responsible even. He looked around the corner at the kid now clutching his backpack to his chest. He sighed, and rubbed a hand over his face. "We…" he said and looked at Mitchell, hands falling to his hips, "we'll figure this out."

Mitchell's worried expression softened. An embrace just as soft closed the distance between them with Mitchell bringing his arms around him and burying his face into his shoulder.

Anders took a breath before returning the gesture.

"I'm sorry for bringing this on you all of a sudden," he softly spoke, "but thank you."

Anders shook his head in disbelief and let out a small scoff. He pulled back from the hug. "I suppose this is the, what comes next, part of our relationship isn't it?"

A small smile formed on Mitchell's face. "Coming along?" 

Anders’s voice was still full of teasing. “Ah, so you were thirsty.” He nodded, pulling his tie loose to pop open his collar. Mitchell hummed, eyes darting between Anders’s thick neck and his arrogant smirk. As his so-called ‘blood donor’, Anders got a kick out of teasing the idea of Mitchell drinking his blood, knowing that it was all tied up with other activities that he liked doing with Mitchell.

“You don’t work tonight, do you?” Anders asked, his tone lighter and relaxed now. “Nah.” Mitchell shook his head. “Not til tomorrow night. Why? ” “Don’t wanna tire you out before a shift.” Anders sipped his beer, acting innocent despite the promise behind his remark. “Tire me out?” Mitchell laughed, putting his tea down, then moved to stand in front of Anders, between his legs. “How d’you intend to do that?” He raised a brow. “Well, I know what you’re like when you get drinking.”

Mitchell leaned in to murmur in Anders’s ear. “Oh, you do, do ya? You sure you don’t need a reminder?” Anders heard the sound Mitchell’s mouth made when he bared his fangs. Mitchell gripped Anders’s thighs as he grazed his neck with his teeth. He could smell the blood pumping below his hot skin, just waiting for him to take his fill.

“Put the fangs away,” Bragi’s low tones echoed in Mitchell’s mind, calming his thirst. Mitchell closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath, feeling his vampiric features retreating. He never minded when Anders did that; if anything it had helped him feel more human than ever the last several months.

“You haven’t earned your drink just yet, Mitch.” Anders quipped, voice back to normal and betraying his complete lack of fear over what Mitchell had been about to do.

Mitchell opened his eyes to frown at his lover. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “First we’ll have some pizza,” Anders explained, tilting his head at him while he gripped Mitchell’s shirt. “And then I’ll need some other body parts of ours to get acquainted for a bit.”

“Will you now?” Mitchell narrowed his eyes, but the affectionate smile on his face took any bite out of his teasing reply. “And why is it that you get to decide all this?” “Because I’m your god.” He rolled his eyes. “Bragi the brat.”

Anders laughed as Mitchell ran one hand up his thigh and pressed their noses together. “Though you are mine,” Mitchell agreed.

Anders hummed as though he wasn’t sure he agreed, but tilted his head up to kiss him. As their tongues met, Anders felt all thoughts of his workday leave his mind, replaced by ones he much preferred. When they broke their kiss, Anders smacked his hands against Mitchell’s chest. “God changed his mind! Bed first.” He hopped off the counter and Mitchell laughed as he followed him out of the kitchen.

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A/N: This is my first time writing Britchell. I hope it's alright! ♥

Tags (only those on the "everything" tag list): @i-did-not-mean-to @the-poldarkian @the-butterfly-blues