Edited 7/1/22.
A/N: This chapter contains mild swearing and implied sexual content.
***
"Holy shit!"
"Guys- oh my-"
"Did they just-"
"Is Marshall imprinting?!"
Everything sounds echoed. Far away. But Paul—he's so close. He's right here. He's all Marshall can pay attention to.
The vampire can feel delicate tingles all over his body. Goosebumps emerge as short hairs stand on end. Pupils dilate in response to a new form of encompassing, heartwarming adoration. A silent heart flutters in a blanket of warmth.
Both men let out quiet gasps as they watch their lives pan out in glistening pools of deep black and rich brown.
*
Creaking wood is slow and steady. Pillows are strewn across the floor. A fuzzy blanket is partially hanging off of a damp mattress. Pumpkin wax melts are cooling off in their burner. Small candles are sitting on a nightstand nearby.
The air is thick.
It smells like sweat and heat—like sex.
Desperate pleas and moans drown out a headboard repeatedly hitting the wall. Pale rays illuminate an otherwise darkened bedroom. A full moon acts as a spotlight, its sheen settled on two quivering bodies.
Paul's lap is being straddled. He's covered in a plethora of bodily fluids that aren't entirely his own. Short nails are digging into a slender waist. He's biting his bottom lip in an attempt to quiet fervent noises. They still come out when he hits all the right spots.
Marshall's legs vibrate with every slow movement. He's held close to a chiseled, firm body. Smaller hands are buried in short locks of brunet hair. A strand of saliva drips down his chin, falling down his craned neck. He sings his song of pleasure with reckless abandon. Tears continuously build from delectable overstimulation.
And they both love it.
Slick lips are slotted together. Echoes of physical desire are muffled. The temperature skyrockets with each roll of the hips.
A deep kiss is broken as Marshall leans his head to the side. His neck is claimed by gentle nibbles and licks.
Being so close is such an enticing feeling—it finally makes tears fall.
"I love you," they chant into the night, "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you..."
*
Paul is lying on his stomach with his arms buried beneath a pillow. Half of his face is hidden. One leg is peeking out from a fluffy white duvet. His snores are soft, and his breathing is even.
The sun is rising in the background. Its light comes in from open windows and glass doors. An orange glow illuminates a beautiful light caramel complexion. Small birthmarks and freckles dot smooth features. Tight muscles are outlined in a sea of curves and hills. Light hairs resemble peach fuzz in the morning light. Brunet locks are illuminated; rich brown, which is usually hidden, shining with warmth. Pink lips are pulled into a lazy smile even when unconscious.
He's the epitome of pure beauty.
Golden eyes stay glued onto the work of art until Paul awakens. And even after, Marshall continues to admire. Only then, it's not at a distance.
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Pretty Boy: Paul Lahote Love Story
FanfictionMarshall Hale, Rosalie's biological older brother, is nothing more than a pretty face with a snarky attitude and a long list of bodies backing his name. He doesn't care for much aside from his family, friends, and music. Almost anything else is just...
