Title: Love's A Dangerous Language
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Josef Kostan/Mick St. John
Fandom: Moonlight
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,415
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Josef Kostan or Mick St. John, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

"Mi amor."

Mick's words were whispered so softly that a human wouldn't have been able to hear them. But Josef's preternatural vampire hearing could pick them up easily; he might as well have shouted the words from a rooftop as whispered them in a seductive tone.

The words sent a chill down his spine; there was something about the way Mick said them that seemed to nestle against his heart. He knew that he should answer with similar words, but he couldn't make himself say the words he knew his boyfriend wanted to hear.

Why was it so hard for him to say those words that Mick could let slip so easily from his lips? He'd always struggled with them, even when he felt the emotions that the words represented. It was just hard for those emotions to be equated into words.

Once he'd said the words, they were out there, and he couldn't take them back. And Josef had long since learned that once something was said, he had to live up to his words. There had been times when he hadn't done so, and he'd always regretted it.

"Mon amour."

The words were whispered in his ear, Mick's breath hot against his skin. His boyfriend's arms wrapped around his waist from behind, those soft lips trailing fire down his throat, Mick's sharp teeth nipping at his bare shoulder, though the fangs weren't out. Yet.

Josef leaned back, into Mick's embrace, savoring the gentleness of his lover's touch. Had anybody else ever touched him like this? He didn't think so, not even Sarah -- and she'd been the only other person he'd truly loved. Yet she hadn't come close to making him feel what Mick did.

No one had ever been as close to his heart as Mick was. He really did love Mick -- it was just so damn hard for him to say those words. But why should he have to? Mick knew how he felt. And he had said it, more than once.

The problem was, he couldn't bring himself to say those words often. Mick knew that he felt them -- but expressing them didn't come easily. His boyfriend understood that, but Josef knew that Mick needed to hear those words more than he was willing to say them.

The more he heard words of love from Mick, the more he felt pressured to say them himself. It wasn't that he didn't want to say them -- they just didn't seem to want to come out at an appropriate time, like now. They stuck in his throat, stubbornly refusing to be uttered.

"Meine liebe."

Mick's hands were moving down his body, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off, nimble fingers fumbling with his belt buckle. In a few moments he'd be naked and yielding in his lover's arms; by then, the time for words would be over, and their bodies would take over.

That was what he was waiting for, wasn't it? For the moments when he had the chance to say those words of love to pass, for the danger of putting his emotions out there front and center to slink back into the darkness, until it chose to come around again.

Love was a dangerous word for him to say, in any language. It opened him up to being hurt -- and one thing that Josef Kostan didn't admit to was feeling pain. Mick was the only person he could do that with, and even then he was hesitant.

He had no idea why he felt that way; after all, he trusted Mick implicitly, didn't he? Of course he did. Mick was the one person in his life he did trust -- the one man he'd ever given himself to willingly, the only person who'd ever completely captured his heart.

Then why was it so hard for him to tell Mick that he loved him? Josef wondered. Maybe it was because that little voice that cautioned him against revealing too much in case he was hurt again had the tendency to speak up when he least expected it to.

"Caro mio."

He closed his eyes as Mick pushed his pants down; the fabric slithered down his legs, and he stepped out of his pants and kicked them aside, leaning back in Mick's arms. He wasn't surprised to find that the other man was already naked; somehow, he'd known that Mick would be.

Those hands were moving down the front of his body, Mick's thumbs circling his nipples, knowing exactly how much pressure to apply. Josef moaned softly, arching his back, enjoying the other man's touch. Mick definitely knew how to work magic on his senses.

One hand was between his legs now, gentle fingers curling around his cock, stroking him as he leaned back against the other man's broad chest. Josef moaned softly, resting his head against Mick's shoulder, the need to speak ebbing away from him.

Love was a dangerous language, more so than any of the ones Mick had already spoken to him in. Love made him weak, vulnerable; it made him putty in this man's hands, turned his emotions inside-out, made him feel opened and exposed.

But love was the only language he could speak in. With all of the different languages he knew, that was the only one that fit his relationship with Mick. He loved this man; he'd loved Mick from the first time their eyes had met, from the first time they'd touched.

"Je t'aime."

Those words were spoken more softly than the others, almost as though Mick was afraid for him to hear them. They were whispered into his ear, just as the others had been, but there was a different tone to these words; they were more breathless, going straight to his heart.

Mick turned Josef around in his arms so that they were facing each other, then slid strong arms around him again, pulling the shorter man close against him. Josef raised his face to his boyfriend's his gaze finally meeting Mick's, looking into his lover's eyes.

"Love's a dangerous language, Mick, no matter how you say it," he murmured, wondering if his boyfriend knew just how much those words rang true. "Be careful before you say something -- you can't always be sure if you mean it."

"Oh, I mean it," Mick whispered, raising a hand to trace the outline of Josef's lips with one fingertip. "I've meant it from the first time I thought it, before I was brave enough to say it. Before I even realized that I wanted to say. I love you. I've always loved you."

Josef's throat tightened; he had to blink back the tears that rose all too easily to his eyes. Those words were so easy for Mick to say; why didn't they come more easily to him? He felt them; he meant, with every fiber of his being.

"I love you, too," he whispered, not realizing for a few moments that the words had slipped out.

"That's a dangerous thing to say," Mick told him, a note of laughter in his voice. "Falling in love is the most dangerous thing you can do, y'know. Unless you have somebody waiting to catch you. Somebody who won't let you hit the ground."

"I do," Josef whispered, his throat still constricted. He'd said those words so few times; they needed to come out again, so he could hear himself say them, savor the feel of the the words on his lips. "I love you Mick. I love you."

"I've wanted to hear you say that," Mick whispered, his voice soft and husky. "I know those words aren't easy for you to say, Josef. That's why they mean so much to me. I know that every time I hear them, they're coming from your heart."

"Love's a dangerous language, but I think I'm getting used to speaking it," Josef said, closing his eyes as Mick's mouth came down on his again. There was no more need for words; their bodies spoke a language of their own, one that neither of them needed any spoken words to understand.

***