RP: A Day at the Beach

[notaballad]

Who: Desmond Molloy and Peter Petrelli/Michael Tarello/the really hot guy Des is dating
What: A Day at the Best Beach in the World™
Where: Whatever city they're in -- it is nondescript and generic? LA, maybe? IDK
When: Friday, April 17, afternoon
Rating: Knowing Des, it'll go to R really quick.


Des was giddy. There was really no other way to describe the feeling that he was experiencing as he packed up a picnic lunch for Peter -- no, Michael -- and himself. He would have to get used to calling his. . .well, he wasn't really sure what to call Michael, really. They hadn't exactly given their relationship labels yet, and he wasn't sure if it was too soon to call Michael his boyfriend. He felt like it wasn't too soon, but he didn't want to scare off the other man.

He could be low key though, no big deal. He was just happy to get to spend time with Michael. He wasn't kidding about liking the guy. He couldn't explain it, but Michael was exciting and different. Every time that Des thought he had a handle on who Michael was, the man would surprise him with a new facet. It was like peeling back the skin of an onion and finding the fruit of a peach. Some people might proceed with caution and possibly back away in concern, but not Des. Hell no, if anything, it made him more intrigued.

So, he whistled a happy tune to himself as he stuck the containers filled with salad for Michael and lunch meat for himself into the cooler. He'd packed a little extra meat, just in case Michael wasn't a vegetarian after all, and then he got containers of macaroni salad and cole slaw out of the fridge, adding those to the cooler as well. Bottles of water, lemonade and a couple of sodas were tucked into the cooler too, and then everything got loaded into Des' 1967 cherry red Mustang GT convertible.

A change of clothes -- in case they decided to go out for dinner or something afterwards -- was stuffed into a duffle bag, and Des was ready to go. He was already wearing his swim trunks, a casual t-shirt and flip flops completing his outfit. Now, he just needed to get Michael.

The duffle bag got tosed into the back seat and Des hopped behind the wheel, cranking up the engine and zooming off to Michael's place.

Comments

[notaballad.livejournal.com]

Desmond laughed and leaned back on his hands, shaking his head. "Oh, no, don't apologize. I don't mind at all," he said. "I mean, yeah, we came here to hang out, but I'm flattered that you can't keep your hands off me." He gave Michael a wink. "I like being with you, Michael."

[spongetastic.livejournal.com]

He smiled at that, feeling rather pleased. The fact that he was even trying to have a normal time with someone spoke volumes. "I like being with you too, Des," he admitted quietly. He turned his eyes away, focusing on the ocean. But soon enough his eyes found their way back to Desmond.

"It's weird," he said thoughtfully. "I feel like I've known you longer than I have. Like we met before that night I came to your house."

[notaballad.livejournal.com]

Desmond grinned, pleased that Michael was enjoying himself too. He leaned back on his hands and tilted his face up toward the sun, closing his eyes and just basking in the warmth.

He lowered his head and opened his eyes at Michael's words though, looking curiously at him. "Oh yeah?" he said. "What makes you think that?" He was curious to see how Michael would respond before he told him that they had.

[spongetastic.livejournal.com]

"I don't know. It's like..." He was coming off as a weirdo, he just knew it. He bit his lip as he tried to get his feelings into words. "It's like déjà vu. You feel so familiar to me. I can't explain it." Michael finished the thought with a shrug of his shoulders.

[notaballad.livejournal.com]

Desmond licked his lips, debating for a long moment how to respond to that. He finally decided that it was a good idea to just be honest, since Michael had initially been honest with him about his profession. "What if I told you that we did meet?" he asked quietly. "I mean, I- Well, I don't know how to explain it, but I know it was you. You didn't call yourself Michael though."

[spongetastic.livejournal.com]

He thought about it, and ended up shrugging his shoulders. "That's probably true," Michael conceded. "Most of the time I don't even tell customers my name; I just let them moan out whatever name they want." He paused, rubbing the back of his head. "That solves that mystery, I guess."

[notaballad.livejournal.com]

"We hadn't had sex yet," Desmond said, chuckling softly. "It was just one of the times that you were Peter. Actually, we talked quite a few times before that day you came over to my place. You always kinda had this child-like quality about you, just really innocent and pure." He looked embarrassed and laughed lightly. "I felt really guilty about having less than pure thoughts about you, and then you came over to my place and, well, you know what happened."

[spongetastic.livejournal.com]

Michael didn't know what to say. He turned his eyes away from Desmond, shaking his head a little. So that would explain why he was told to be Peter when he was hired to service Desmond. "I'm not Peter," he said stiffly.

[notaballad.livejournal.com]

Desmond blinked a little and frowned when Michael turned his eyes away. Then he winced and licked his lips, raking his fingers through his hair. "I- I know that you're not, Michael, but I just- How can two people who aren't twins look exactly alike?" he said. "Plus you- He- I- I don't know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I'm not here today because of Peter. I'm here because of you."

[spongetastic.livejournal.com]

He just shook his head again. "Don't worry about it," he said dismissively. "I don't even know why it bothers me." But it did, and he cared more than he should have about who this Peter guy was and why Desmond was so interested in him.

[notaballad.livejournal.com]

"I do worry about it though," Desmond said quietly. "Because I keep seeing him around and I never know if it's him or you. I've never seen you two together though, and I just-" He cut off, licking his lips, realizing that his thoughts sounded crazy, even to him, but he had to say something. "I kinda wonder if he isn't- Well, I mean, I wonder if he isn't really you. Or you're really him and just don't know it. I don't know."

[spongetastic.livejournal.com]

"I'm not him," Michael repeated with an angry narrowing of his eyes. "I'm me. Just me. I..." He paused, rubbing his eyes. This was starting to hurt his head and he didn't particularly like the feeling. His instinct was to get away.

"I should go," he said finally.

[notaballad.livejournal.com]

Desmond flinched under the angry, narrowing of Michael's eyes, and he gulped a little. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I-" He blinked and frowned deeply. "No, Michael, please. Don't go. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

This was so not how he'd planned for the day to go. . .

[spongetastic.livejournal.com]

"It... whatever," Michael said, shaking his head. He still didn't feel entirely comfortable, and a part of him wanted to run for the hills. He should have been used to something like this, with what he did for a living. But it stung him a lot, and that was probably a big part of why he felt so bothered.

[notaballad.livejournal.com]

Desmond flinched and sighed, raking his fingers through his hair and then rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. He knew that he'd already said it, but he didn't really know what else to say.

[spongetastic.livejournal.com]

Michael would have just ignored him, but something... something was pulling him to do more. He couldn't have known it was Peter reaching out from somewhere inside. All he knew was that suddenly he was nuzzling affectionately against Des's cheek. And that was something Michael simply didn't do. Ever.

[notaballad.livejournal.com]

Desmond was caught off-guard by the affectionate nuzzle to his cheek, and for a moment, all he could do was blink rapidly in surprise. "Michael?" he mumbled quietly, even as he leaned into the nuzzle. He was a sucker for affection, and he couldn't stop the faint smile that tugged at his lips. He was confused though; Michael was always pulling away from him when he tried to be affectionate like that. "Are you-" He trailed off, not wanting to offend the other man by implying that he was doing something out of character, in case he was just trying something new.

[spongetastic.livejournal.com]

He was glitching so badly around Desmond; if he knew he was being confusing, he would've felt bad about it. But he couldn't help it. Peter was the one who spent more time around Desmond. "Something about seeing you sad... makes me want to make you happy again," Michael said quietly. He didn't know it, but he was echoing back something Peter often said: I don't like it when you're sad.

[notaballad.livejournal.com]

Desmond was even more confused now, and it showed in the way that his forehead wrinkled as he frowned. "Michael, you. . ." He trailed off, licking his lips and closing his eyes. His head was hurting from trying to figure all of this out, and he brought a hand up to rub his forehead above his right eye. "You do make me happy, Michael."

He gave him a soft smile and nuzzled Michael's cheek. "No more mention of Peter, I promise. It's all you, all the time."

[spongetastic.livejournal.com]

Why did it make him feel so warm inside, knowing Desmond was happy around him? It was so weird. But not entirely in a bad way. Michael tilted his head a little to catch Desmond's mouth in a kiss. "I like that," he purred softly. "I like that a lot."

[notaballad.livejournal.com]

Desmond shivered and then smiled into the kiss, running his fingers through Michael's hair. "Yeah? Good, because I like making you happy," he mumbled softly. He smiled and kissed Michael, nipping affectionately at his lower lip. "You want to get out of here?"

[spongetastic.livejournal.com]

He loved people touching his hair. He let out another soft purr, an arm circling lazily around Des's shoulders. "Yes," he answered instantly. "Definitely."

[notaballad.livejournal.com]

Desmond grinned, continuing to play with Michael's hair. "Your place or mine?" he said, feeling a little giddy.

[spongetastic.livejournal.com]

"Hmmm." He closed his eyes, tilting his head a little to make it easier for Des's fingers to comb through his hair. "Why don't we go back to my place, this time?" he suggested quietly. "Since I got to see yours."

[notaballad.livejournal.com]

Desmond grinned, liking the sound of that idea, and he gave Michael another kiss. "Alright," he said. "I'd love to see your place. It's only fair, after all." He got up and started to pack away the stuff, feeling better.