pretty boy [dead]

t h r e e .

Peter gently rubbed a white towel to his arms, as the towel made contact to his arms, blood seeped through the cloth.

The silence in Peter's living room was comfortable but Vaughn didn't seem to mind Peter's gesture.

Peter's noodle arms was a little cramped because of Vaughn's heavy built frame when he carried him inside his apartment because of his bloody appearance.

When bloody, its blood. He had an ugly bruise in his cheekbones, blood stained his black ripped shirt --that looked like he fought a cat-- and his fists red and swollen. And Peter being the generous person he is, couldn't leave the beautiful stranger in his steps.

Vaughn hid his wince when Peter applied pressure to a few cuts but Peter still caught him and shrugged it off.

Once he finished cleaning his few cuts and his bloody now bandaged fists, Peter threw all the bloody cottons and tissues and grabbed a frozen bag of peas and gave it to Vaughn.

Vaughn took it and carefully placed it in his bruise, wincing a little. Peter just stared at him, and he took his time to fully explore his face. He had an emotionless mask but a beautiful face- heck, Peter wondered if he just cured a famous model.

"Thanks." Vaughn finally mutters shamefully because he was not really that useful when Peter helped him. Peter waved it off, shrugging.

(a/n: blushing*)

"Can I..ask one more favor?" Vaughn says as he looks at the pretty boy in from of him, "Sure." He croaks out,

"Can I crash in here tonight?"

Peter silently gulped, thoughts rushes in his mind.

Should I let him?

He's just a stranger.

Heck- a beautiful stranger.

What if he's just a robber?

A beautiful robber.

"Sure, why not?"

And the living room's  lights clicked off as Vaughn followed Peter in his hallway  upstairs, there were no picture frames but polaroids clipped in hanging wires, as Vaughn walked he leaned in to one of the polaroids and it was a picture of him smiling brightly while a girl version of him draped an arm across his shoulders and smiled the same way Peter did.

There was a really neat handwriting that said 'The Matthews' twins'. Once he saw Peter was further away he catched up to him.

Once Peter stopped at a white door and opened the silver doorknob, he gestured Vaughn to go in, "Have a nice night." Vaughn says to him, smiling. Peter almost swooned at his smile, but smiled back anyway. He closes the door and he finally breathes out, heart pounding, blood racing.

He slowly walks to his room, and opening his door and flopped to his bed feeling a little smile made its way back to his face.

Hmm, a really beautiful stranger indeed.

[a/n: 5 pages bc its a short story;)]