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HJ leans back against the pine tree while he watches LaVonte work, and by work he means continue drawing a house-shaped shape in the dirt nearby with the end of HJ's scepter. He trusts LaVonte with it as much as he trusts LaVonte with everything else. A little thrill runs down his back, zippy and sharp, when he sees the gold gleam in LaVonte's hands. The proud grin on LaVonte's face as he traces a path through the dirt known only to him doesn't hurt, either. Gets HJ smiling, too. There's nothing better than being up-close and personal while LaVonte spins up a plan, that's for sure. HJ's never going to spend a day without it, nope, nuh uh, never, not if he has anything to say about it.
LaVonte glances up from the ground below and the fondest, softest look crosses his face when their eyes meet. He brushes a fleck of dirt off his shoulder and fixes his tie before striding over to join him in the shade. He takes the scepter with him, naturally, and the bobble at the top hangs off the hinge of his elbow as he crosses his arms and takes up his place beside him. LaVonte shimmies, digging his back into the bark, makes himself at home. He nudges him, whispers out the side of his mouth as he points with the end of the scepter at the drawing he'd left in the dirt. "Alright, so what we're looking at is mid-century modern, single level. Big windows on the front face to let in all that good natural light we can't use, and that classic flat roof, you know the one, the one that looks like the longest, leanest letter A you've ever seen in your life. Thinking of a brick exterior, you like brick?"
HJ places his hand on his scepter, arm slung around LaVonte's lower back, just above the hips. His fingers overlap with LaVonte's on top of his frankly ridiculous accessory, and when LaVonte passes the metaphorical baton over to him, he doesn't think twice before letting it slip out of his grip and embed itself in the carpet of pine needles under them. He's got more important things to do, like get as close to LaVonte as possible, nuzzling into his neck. His jheri curl tickles, smells like hydrogen peroxide mixed with shea butter, and crinkles under HJ's lips when he kisses the side of LaVonte's throat. HJ hums. "Oh, yeah, brick's good. Love that. And a little garage for the Bird Scooters off to the side. Gotta keep them dry in case it rains. Oh, and a chimney for burning legal documents. I mean, when we aren't using the kiln."
"Oh, one hundred percent. We'll airlift one of the six ancient kilns of Japan over here, get it set up out back, maybe charge money for other people to get to use it." LaVonte tilts his head, eyes cast up towards the full moon hanging low in the sky like he might see something else in it. A faint smile spreads across his face. While he's lost in thought, he drapes his arm across his shoulders and hauls him in for a huddle. He still hasn't let go of his other hand and his thumb traces shapes over the back of it. Their feet are staggered, left left right right, maybe an inch between them. A little bit of life sparks across LaVonte's face and his eyes are hooded when they flit back to HJ. His hand brushes the back of his neck, sending pinprick tingles through him. LaVonte speaks again, voice soft as the soil they're standing in. "And I'll build you a whole studio inside the house, too. You'll love it in there. Lots of shelves, big ole wheel, the works."
"Aww. And some of the kids who come to the night zoo can swing by for lessons. We'll line up a couple workbenches for them, too." HJ takes in LaVonte, the hunger on his face, the grip his hands have on him, the future spinning out in front of them like clay on the wheel, and HJ knows exactly what he's gotta do. HJ leans in and kisses him smack dab on the lips, swooning into his arms, loose-limbed, easy. LaVonte's pressed back against the tree, his stance widened to make room for HJ, pine needles falling around them as HJ plants one on him. He keeps hold of LaVonte's hand, fingers interlocking, while his other hand dances along the dip in LaVonte's spine and feels out the curve of his body hidden under his suit. Yeah, yeah, tree bark scrapes his hand when he does that, but he's a vampire on a mission and a scratch or two isn't gonna get in his way, not when the other option is going another second without touching LaVonte as much as possible. Like with his mouth, for example.
Bad news, LaVonte stops holding his hand. Good news, it's so he can pet the side of his face instead, thumb smoothing his cheek and palm on his jaw, something to keep him steady, reel him in. Their noses brush up against each other's while HJ maps out LaVonte's mouth with his own. LaVonte moans, mutters something that sounds like, "Yeah, HJ, just like that," which gets smothered by his tongue. LaVonte is flatbacked against the tree by now, even as he pulls HJ closer by the lapel, business suit scrunching under his fingernails. HJ's thigh fits in the space between his legs, and when LaVonte rolls his hips, it brings their dicks together. LaVonte smudges kisses along HJ's lips, speaking between one and the next. "Beautiful, just beautiful. And we'll set up a room for our coffins across the way from the home office, away from prying eyes. Lots of shade. And we'll keep the fog machine going 24/7."
"We'll need a guest room, too. For when Tyler comes over. Somewhere he can hang." HJ tugs on LaVonte's belt loops as his hands wind their way along his hips. He untucks his shirt, too, so his hands can fit under the fabric and touch skin instead. HJ chews his lip before nipping at LaVonte's, getting him to open up and make room for his tongue to follow. LaVonte's mustache tickles when they kiss, making HJ hold back a giggle until those laughs turn into sighs. He rocks his body into his, the hunger growing in his belly that has very little to do with blood. Riles him up all the same, though, gets his dick hard, and from his thigh brushing up against LaVonte's crotch, he knows he's going through a similar crisis over there. It's getting hard to think and even harder to speak but HJ pulls it together, refusing to let the thread drop, even if his voice comes out as more of a suggestion than something concrete. "What do you think, should we set up some thrones here, too, or are they more of an Elysium thing?"
"Oh, you know we gotta have a couple thrones lying around. We can put 'em in the office with your pool table. Remind folks what working with Worthy and Wingstreet could get you." LaVonte dives back in to remind HJ what his tongue can do to him, which HJ greatly appreciates. The hand on his face sometimes slips to brush the shell of his ear and his neck, and they're lucky they don't have to breathe because he's pretty sure he'd be breathless by now. LaVonte trails his other hand down from his shoulder to his waist, gets to work unbuttoning their flies and unzipping their jeans, giving their dicks some room to get closer acquainted and rise to the occasion. "Namely, some very fine ceramics sold at exorbitant prices."
"I'll make tea sets, charge separately for the pot and the cups but offer a steep discount for a bundle if you sign up for a rewards account." HJ gets so excited by the idea that he humps LaVonte's crotch, dick against dick, no finesse whatsoever, just instinct. He keeps hold of LaVonte's hip, hand stuck fast to his side, while his other hand fences him in, presses into the tree. He swoops in to kiss LaVonte, as though at any point he ever really stopped, rising up on his toes to shoot for a different angle. LaVonte wraps his low hand around him, jerks him off, and HJ needs to dig his fingertips into the bark to keep some vague amount of composure here. He's shaking like pine needles in the breeze. Makes him feel about as close as he gets to alive. "Use the rewards account to find people who'd be willing to let us feed from them."
"Naturally. No use going hungry." LaVonte licks his lips before going back in for seconds and thirds. He plays around with his junk, tugging at his balls if he isn't fiddling with his cock, spreading the fluid that beads from the tip. His other hand remains glued to his face like his curls to his forehead. LaVonte tucks an ankle around one of HJ's calves while he arches his back, putting some of his weight on him. He grinds along his outstretched thigh and the base of his cock, although half the time he only ends up jerking up into his own hand. Doesn't seem to bother him, though. If anything, it only makes him moan louder and faster into the narrow space between their mouths. "Teach Tyler how to reel 'em in, too."
"Aww, and he'll have some ghouls of his own before long. And then they can take ceramics classes, too!" HJ beams while his hand sears into LaVonte's side, rubbing aimless circles along his waistline. LaVonte is brushed back against the tree, hair crumpled and back bowed, their foreheads bonked together as though it has any hope of cooling them down. Heat builds in HJ's belly, and it's only by thrusting to meet LaVonte in the middle that he finds temporary relief from the ache in his balls, tightening and tightening. Fuck, he's pretty sure he could use his dick as a stake, that's how pent up he is. Any second now he's gonna go off like a rocket, so he holds onto LaVonte with everything he's got, shuddering and jittering against him. "We're gonna make a killing."
"Hey, man, it's a living." And from how quickly LaVonte's thrusts have picked up, they've got quite a lot of living in them, despite the whole being dead thing. His hand swipes around the heads of their cocks and HJ is so keyed up that it only takes that and an extra body roll for him to come, stars bursting behind his eyes about a billion times better than he remembers the sun being. He spills into LaVonte's hand and over his crotch and belly, what remains of his heart hammering in his chest. The sticky fluid must ease the way, because it takes another slorp-slorp-slorp for LaVonte to add his mess to the pile, staining their untucked shirts with whatever doesn't escape and fall to the pine needles below.
Even completely blissed out and spent, LaVonte doesn't let his hand fall from his face, petting his forehead as he rides the wave carrying him off. It takes a bit of time for his limbs to come back online, for him to swipe the cum off them with a handkerchief that he lets flutter to the ground once its used up, for him to tuck their floppy dicks back into their pants, for him to take care of the details HJ has never once bothered with and isn't about to start now. They've got all of eternity ahead of them for that. Right now, HJ collapses into LaVonte's arms and thinks about how he could get used to unwinding more, seeing as it looks a lot like this, only maybe with his shoes off.
Oh, and the clown make up, but he'll spring that on LaVonte when the endorphins run dry. No use wasting some good endorphins, they're the key to any creative endeavor. See, look, he's got tons of ideas coming to him right now. Just give him a minute to rest his eyes and he'll be good to go. There's nowhere else he'd rather be.