Edited 5/30/22.

A/N: This chapter contains mild swearing, references to alcohol, implied sexual content, and implied homophobia.

***

"What was all that talk of you making me beg and whine, Tiger?" Marshall teased, his tongue dragging along the length of Paul's throat. "You were giving me all this lip about what you wanted to do to me. Holding me by the waist, sneaking peeks at my ass—which you weren't slick about, by the way—trying to butter me up with compliments. Yet here you are, ready for me to eat you up."

"Don't- don't be such a tease." Paul mewled. "I'll get you one of these days."

"I'm holding you to that, darling. Doesn't have to be next time, but we'll see if you can manage to break me."

*

Marshall let out a deep, guttural groan at the sight of a needy expression pointed his way. He grabbed his mate by his face with a single hand. Strong fingers dug into the moldable surface of Paul's cheeks. The hard line of his jaw rested in the vampire's palm; his grip firm and tight. Marshall licked his lips in response to desperate panting.

Cheeks were flushed. Eyes were glazed and glossy. Pupils were blown out. The shifter squirmed in his spot on the floor in between his imprint's legs.

"You're cute when you're like this, Tiger. It suits you- being on your knees for me."

Paul harshly gripped at his companion's thighs. Sharp fingers dug into the hard flesh of the vampire. He hissed at the pain—and also huffed in excitement.

"I get it, I get it. I won't tease you today. Better make it worth my while though. Instead of squeezing at my legs, how about you put those hands to better use somewhere else."

*

No one paid any mind to the motel room door that slammed behind them. The room itself was encased in darkness, but neither of them had the clear cognitive function to try and reach for the light switch.

Paul pushed Marshall up against the door. The vampire barely had a second to react before his mate was upon him again. Their tongues fought for dominance. They tugged at each other's clothes with reckless abandon. The kiss muffled their hums of satisfaction.

They continued this dance until Marshall turned the tables. He flipped their position so Paul was the one pinned to the door. Their kiss parted for a fraction of a second as the vampire picked the shifter up and wrapped his strong legs around his waist.

Pale cheeks were grabbed. The gesture was used as a guide to resume their greedy pecks. Handsy grazes were made along their bodies once more. A strong taste of alcohol made Marshall growl. Such an unhinged, animalistic sound made Paul lightheaded.

"Come on, Marshmallow, don't keep me in suspense. Do your worst."

*

"I finally give you the opportunity to top me, and this is all you got?" Marshall laughed, his voice a bit breathless.

"I don't know, Marshmallow, you seem a little... excited to me." Paul kept his touches light as a feather. He smirked at every stifled whimper. "I know you like things fast and in your control. But things aren't going to happen like that this time. We'll move on when I think you deserve it."

"Ooh, being dominant now are we? Can't say I don't like it, because I do. A whole fucking lot." Marshall tried to suppress another moan. "Well, Tiger, let's see what cards you've got up your sleeve- because you've certainly got my attention. I really hope you bite as aggressively as you bark."

*

Marshall hums absentmindedly to the music playing from his phone's speaker. His head bobs up and down in a light motion, the gesture falling in beat with the sound of an acoustic guitar.

He's lying on his stomach with both feet kicked up. They're crossed at the ankles. One of the male's hands is propped up against his cheek, while the other is tapping on the bed's surface. To his right, he can hear Paul getting out of the shower. Marshall ponders if he should stop the music, but decides to let it continue playing.

The room still smells of sex. He doesn't mind. If anything, it's a smell he's become accustomed to. It's also a smell that he has tied a feeling of comfort to.

"Is this an indie song?" Paul asks, peeking through the space between the bathroom door and its frame.

"Yeah. I know it's not like the super heavy stuff we usually listen to, " Marshall replies. "You like it?"

"Yeah, it's nice. Vocals are really good too. Gives you that, like, easy listening vibe. It's relaxing."

Paul exits the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He turns off the light, and faint trails of steam filter out after him.

Marshall looks over his mate's physique unabashedly. The evidence of their scandalous actions are already fading. Even though this is the case, it's a marvel to look at the shifter's tan skin full of dark blossoms of color.

The intense stare is noticed, but nothing is said about it. Instead, a feeling of pride wells up at the notion of having the vampire's undivided attention.

The towel is removed and is tossed onto a free section of the bed. Paul pulls on his underwear, pants, and socks before settling beside his companion. The younger male leans down. He gives a soft kiss to the exposed skin near Marshall's collarbone. He sighs, leaning into the warm touch.

Paul gives a few kisses to the spot before pulling away. He sits back. One hand settles on the bed, while the other settles in the soft waves of black hair. "Work today, Marsh?"

"Yeah. It's a short day though- don't start till 3. It's really just rehearsals of lines and dances this week. Should be out by, like, eight or so." Marshall looks up at his mate. "Patrol today?"

"Mhmm. Start at 5."

"That still gives us some time to kill before we have to split. Want to grab a bite to eat?"

"Sure. What do you think we should get today?"

"I didn't mean order in, Tiger. I meant why don't we go somewhere. In public. Together."

"Oh- uh" —Paul's eyebrows raise in surprise— "I'm not saying no. That sounds really nice, actually. I just- I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me. I know it gets old when people watch us at the bar when I'm eating, and you're not."

"Eh, I'm used to it." Marshall shrugs. "If you want, we could do drive-through instead. Or the vintage drive-in, or something."

"I like the vintage place. Their mozzarella sticks are to die for."

"Sounds like a plan then."

Both men rise from the bed. Marshall pauses his music. He reaches for his blue and green flannel. The soft fabric rubs against his skin when it's slid on. The top two buttons are left undone which keeps his pronounced collarbone exposed. He also undoes the buttons at his wrists and rolls up his sleeves. Tattooed forearms are left on display with bright colors being enhanced by the natural paleness of his skin.

Marshall stretches his arms out as he walks toward the front door. He bends down to slide on a pair of thin socks. Combat boots follow shortly after. He rises to his full height once ready.

"Marsh."

Paul tosses his keys at the vampire who catches them with ease. His head tilts to the side in confusion. "Want me to get the car running?"

"Yeah. Sync your phone to the radio too. I like the music you were playing."

"Course, Tiger. Just remember to stop by the front desk to give the room key back."

Marshall grabs his leather jacket. He slides it on, exiting the familiar motel room. He's met with the bright sun of mid afternoon. A sigh is let out at the warmth coming from the ball of light in the sky. He also thanks the heavens for not sparkling like his siblings. Not having that trait makes it easier to appreciate the beautiful, slightly cloudy day without worrying.

Long, confident strides are taken into the parking lot. Marshall unlocks Paul's large, dark gray truck. The vampire climbs into the passenger side. He leans over to turn the key, starting the ignition. As the car roars to life, Marshall leans back in his seat with a delighted hum.

The light smell of leather is masked by the faint aroma of his mate's cologne and natural scent. A moment is taken to inhale deeply. He gives himself a chance to indulge in a scent that's slowly becoming a highlighted point during these meetups.

His phone is taken out. Scrolling through the Bluetooth menu, the vampire chuckles at the title of "My Good Ass Music for my Nice Ass Car" for Paul's radio. The device syncs without issue. Marshall makes sure to turn the volume down, so he isn't assaulted by blaring music. The song from earlier resumes playing as Paul climbs into the driver side of the vehicle.

"All set, Marshmallow?"

He nods in affirmation.

Paul pulls out of the motel parking lot. The two fall into a comfortable bout of silence while driving to their destination. They both bob their heads to the music playing. It ranges from slow indie songs to more upbeat tunes. Radio volume stays low enough for either male to speak if they feel like it.

Marshall is staring out of the window when his phone vibrates. He raises a single eyebrow. Looking down, he notices a text from Rosalie. A short exhale is let out after skimming the message over.

"All good?" Paul asks.

"Yeah, sorry, just my sister texting me." Marshall types quickly. "She's asking me when I'll be back. Apparently, I've been spending more time out of the house lately, and the family is asking for a little more time to be spent at home."

"I didn't realize I was making you go out more than usual."

"It's not a bad thing. It certainly isn't to me anyway. It's nice hanging out with you. Aside from going to work and the bar, I only really go out regularly with one other person who's a good friend of mine. Because of rehearsals, conditioning, and his girlfriend though-- we don't meet up to hang out as often as I'd like." Marshall shrugs. "I don't know. I feel like my family's getting suspicious that all my late night adventures have finally landed me a girlfriend."

"Not a boyfriend?"

"Not in their eyes, no."

Paul frowns. "Is that what you meant a few weeks ago when we first slept together? When you said you're around close minded people a lot?"

"Unfortunately, yes. My family doesn't agree with my 'lifestyle choices' as they've put it."

"How so?"

"They all have mates who they've been together with for decades. The only other person in my family who doesn't have one is my adoptive brother, Edward. Even still, they all kind of hold onto some of their traditional ideologies and beliefs." Marshall sets his phone down in the cup holder near his leg. "They don't like that I go out and meet strangers for sex. They don't like that I go to the bar- even though I'm not even capable of getting drunk off alcohol. They don't care for me being pansexual. Like, they know I've slept with guys and people with the same genitalia- but that's the reason they don't like hearing about who I sleep with. I've never been ashamed of my orientation. In order to keep the peace though, I don't mention it."

"That's bullshit if you ask me," Paul chimes in. "I get it though. I came out as bi to my dad when I was, like, fourteen. He flipped his shit when I did. People at school didn't like it either, but they were too scared to say it to my face. The pack though, they've been good about it. It's nice to have their support. It's just stupid for both of us that our immediate families aren't the same."

"It is what it is, I guess."

Paul turns into the drive-in. He pulls up to a vacant spot and proceeds to order sixteen mozzarella sticks, a chili dog, two cheeseburgers, and a cola. Marshall offers to pay. Paul refutes as the vampire is the one who paid for their drinks the night before.

They stave off of their tense conversation and opt for a more lighthearted one about music. They talk about different genres until an employee skates up to the car on roller blades. Hand off of food and payment is quick. Once completed, Paul pulls out of the spot, parking in another one so he can eat. He allows the car to continue running while he does so.

"I've been meaning to ask- you go to the bar and drink, but isn't that bad for you?"

"No, not necessarily. I don't have a normal way of processing food the way humans do. When vampires feed, we kind of just absorb the blood. Our bodies know when we ingest things that aren't the norm. So, stuff like food and drinks will just sit in my stomach until I naturally puke it out."

"Sounds lovely."

Marshall chuckles. "When I said I was different from other vampires, I meant it. Other vampires can't handle even one bite of human food without spitting it out. I can handle it even though I may not love it. I also don't sparkle—yes, you heard that right—in the sunlight. Unlike my family members, I have the capability of crying and sleeping. I don't really need to do either, but I have the choice to do so if I feel like it."

Paul halts his eating in response to the information presented. His head tilts to the side while his eyebrows raise in surprise. "What makes you so different that way? Did something happen?"

"...That's a conversation for another time."

Paul notices Marshall's sudden change of tone. Quickly, the younger male diverts the conversation to the vampire's job, and the musical he's been rehearsing for. It's a welcomed distraction that he sincerely appreciates. He allows himself to relax in Paul's company.

Still, the question of his upbringing and changing remains in the back of Marshall's mind. It causes a bitter taste to erupt in his mouth.