Cold Day in Berlin (Vampires in Berlin Book Five)

Cold Day in Berlin Part 11

Richard sighed as he made his way through their front door later that night; he shrugged out of his coat whilst Paul followed him inside, and locked the door behind them both. Paul was grinning by the time that he'd joined Richard at the coat-rack, yet it was a grin as tempered with relief as it was with mischievousness.

"I guess it's all over, now?" Paul asked, when Richard looked askance at him.

"With Bob? I hope so," Richard said, gloomily.

"I'm sure it is," Paul said, confidently, as he led the way into the living room and flopped bodily down upon the sofa with a long and satisfied sigh.

Richard joined him, after first lifting Paul's legs so that he could fit upon the soft and squidgy cushions too; Paul was laughing but didn't protest the movement. Instead, he got up and changed position, so that his head nestled comfortably in Richard's lap; the other vampire smiled and started to thread caressing fingers through the soft strands of Paul's hair. Paul closed his eyes and pushed into the contact, sighing when Richard continued to stroke and to pet him, one hand resting comfortably against Paul's soft abdomen.

"I suppose one of the were-bears was what Olli managed to capture with his camera the other night," Richard observed, voice pitched low and lazily quiet, lulled into languidness by his own petting movements.

"I suppose," Paul agreed, without opening his eyes. "I suppose they also left the dead deer outside Flake's door as a warning; I suppose Bob must have found out where he lived from management, to know where to deliver it. God only knows where they even got it from. You never know; they might not have stopped there. If they hadn't swiped Schneider when they did, we each might have gotten a nice surprise on our doorsteps."

"Yeah, I suppose," Richard replied, suddenly distracted as he thought of all the things that had happened over the past week. "Paulchen?"

"Hmm?" Paul asked, as he cracked one eye open to stare at Richard when his lover didn't immediately speak.

"D'you think it was Bob who left those weird messages on our answer-phone last week?" Richard asked.

"I suppose it's possible," Paul agreed, as he opened his other eye. "The fact that he didn't ring us on our mobiles probably confirms that much; he probably got our land-line number from the same place he got Flake's address. Management, perhaps."

"Possible," Richard agreed, hand stilling upon Paul's head, although his fingers still were laced through Paul's hair. "Till did say that he saw Bob last week, remember?"

"Yeah," Paul agreed. "The evidence all fits, anyway. He probably was waiting for the premiere, waiting to get us all together, like he said. The man was a nut-case, obviously. It won't do us any good to keep talking about him, anyway. It's over now. We won. Again. He didn't. Again. We're all still alive, inasmuch as any of us can be. That's all that matters, in the long run."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Richard said, with a nod, before he fell silent.

He looked down, when Paul reached up to rest his hand against the back of Richard's, a clear plea in the other vampire's face.

"Why did you stop? Continue petting me, please," Paul said, an imperious, yet impish, smile curving his lips softly.

Richard laughed at that, and laughed even harder, when Paul affected a mock-hurt pout at the noise.

"Ever the sensualist, Paulchen," Richard commented, affectionately as he began stroking Paul's head again.

"Of course. It feels nice," Paul sighed, as he closed his eyes again.

"I'll tell you what else feels nice," Richard said, and waited for Paul to open his eyes again before continuing. "Love-making."

"I like the sound of that," Paul agreed, as he struggled out of the comfortable confines of Richard's lap with an obvious, reluctant effort. "Race you to the bedroom."

Richard groaned, even as Paul scuttled away, laughter trailing over his shoulder as he did so; as such, Paul was the first to reach the bed in the spare room, and was the first to undress, not that Richard particularly minded, however. His movements were just as swift and eager once he reached the side of the bed, pausing long enough to retrieve the lube from where they'd left it the night before, before he joined Paul in bed. Their love-making that night was slow and tender, yet still loud and satisfying, bodies joining once, twice, thrice throughout the night, and was made all the sweeter for knowing that they all still were alive, and safe again, for the time being.

As the morning came to deaden their ardour for the day ahead, Paul smiled as peace settled over them both; he only hoped that that peace would last and not prove to be a temporary measure. They deserved some quietude, he knew, yet he had a sneaking suspicion that they wouldn't get it; although Bob was out of their lives for good, there would always be someone, or something, else making a nuisance of themselves.