A Honeymoon, in Three Acts by LindaMarie "I don't like this," Stefan said, his knuckles white from gripping the armrest. "Easy there, partner." Matt covered one of his hands with his own. The coolness of Stefan's skin was only too welcome in the overwarm cabin. "Don't want to break something." Just then the plane made a sudden dip to the right. "I really don't like this." Stefan took a deep breath and held it for far too long, releasing it in a burst. He seemed to make a concerted effort to put the harrowing flight out of his mind. "You promise we're staying someplace decent?" Matt pressed his shoulder a little closer, turning his head. "Best your money could buy." He licked the shell of Stefan's ear, laughing quietly at the shiver he caused. Unease successfully forgotten for the moment, Stefan nimbly gripped Matt's chin and kissed his jawline. Matt could feel his pulse there, under Stefan's mouth. "Then it had better be consummately fantastic." "I don't think we'll have problems with the 'consummate' part, at least." A few minutes later they pulled away from each other. Even if they were a couple of men in the prime of life (one of them permanently so)--even if they were a human and a vampire on a Caribbean honeymoon--they still had some standards of decency. ********* "So what do you think?" They'd just entered the lobby of their hotel, and Matt was happy to see that Stefan's spirits had already lifted considerably. Matt was much easier to please than the worldly Stefan, and it was very satisfying when they found things about which they could both be impressed. "It's nice," Stefan granted, looking around the room, with its rich wood paneling and softly gilded mouldings. Matt had picked this place because the photos he'd seen had an older feeling than all the pastels and wicker he'd seen elsewhere. "But we haven't seen the rooms yet, have we?" Matt didn't say anything. This was one of Stefan's favorite games, playing the fastidious aristocrat when he was really fine with football and blue jeans. Tight blue jeans. They got all checked in, declined the offer of a bellhop (they just wanted to be alone) and pulled their suitcases into the nearest elevator. Their room faced West, which was good because neither of them really took mornings very well, lately. When Matt unlocked the door and pushed it open, he saw it had a better view than he'd expected. ("Ocean view" is a pretty broad term, and he'd had concerns.) "Well, come on then," Stefan said, holding out his arms solicitously. Matt just stared at him, uncomprehending until he realized what Stefan must mean. "You can't be serious." "Of course I am. I'd let you do the honors, but if you'll recall, I'm quite a bit heavier than I look." There was a very amusing memory attached to that remark, involving Mrs. Flowers' wine cellar and an ill-placed pair of Homer Simpson boxers. Matt looked up and down the hall, making sure it was empty. "All right. But do it fast, okay?" "With pleasure," Stefan said, a wry grin firmly in place, and with that, swept Matt off his feet. Strong arms tightened around Matt's back and legs as he was carried over the threshold. ********* "Please? Oh, pleeeeaaaase?" "Absolutely not." Stefan ducked around Matt's groping hands and began to comb his hair--which was completely pointless, because the humid sea air had turned his normally wavy hair into a mass of curls, dense and inextricably tangled. "What's the big deal? Lots of people go parasailing, all the time. And they aren't even immortal, either. Unlike some people I know." "The airplane was bad enough, Matt. If I wanted to fly I'd change into a bird and do it properly." "But it won't be any fun without you." "That's exactly what I said about the shark dive, may I remind you." "It's totally different! The giant parachute doesn't want to eat you alive!" "It's not different at all." Stefan set down the comb and turned, reaching up to place his hands on Matt's shoulders. "You're married to someone who wants to eat you alive. Are you afraid of that, as well?" "Not at all," Matt said with a grin, and leaned in closer. "But it doesn't take a shark encounter to know your methods are a lot more enjoyable." Matt ducked his head down to capture Stefan's mouth, and then Stefan was gripping his ass and pulling him close, close, and the tropical heat was nothing to what rose between them. END