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 Posted: Sun Jul 03, 2016 7:42 am
He knew, for the most part, that most physical contact between them was instigated by himself. Michael was reserved as a general rule, and it was Caspian who took the lead when it came to anything further than casual nudges or playful banter, always careful to not push things too far. Michael had told him that it was okay to be closer - but at the same time, Caspian didn’t want to go from zero to sixty within a few hours. He naturally gravitated towards warmth, and Michael exuded enough that it felt soothing and far too comfortable to be safe.
But Michael didn’t stiffen or pull away as Caspian pulled his arm around, and he felt fingers gently hold onto his shirt, his heart beating much too fast in his chest. Caspian’s eyes were focused on the water in front, but he stood there with Michael’s voice wafting over him, with Michael’s solid presence keeping him stable, with the smell of the water and cedarwood in his senses.
If he had felt breathless before, he felt it again now, as Michael’s hand tightened, Caspian’s breath catching in his throat. The faint pink flush that was on his cheeks, initially from embarrassment, now was for another reason, though he couldn’t have said what it was.
I don’t see you as a kid, Cas.
Caspian desperately, desperately hoped this was true and it was suddenly, confusingly, overwhelmingly important that it was. He could feel the intensity of the words, the kindness and the shame of them, the open and honest emotion from a man who rarely allowed himself to do feel anything more than continued self deprecation.
His hand gripped the wheel, and he wasn’t sure if he was glad of the fact that he was facing forward so Michael couldn’t see the flush to his cheeks, or feel the way his heart was pounding harder than ever - or disappointed that he couldn’t see Michael’s face. Caspian swallowed hard, trying to push past the mess of emotions that were tangling through his mind, and gave the smallest shake of his head.
“I’m not,” he said, “I’m not giving up on you, I told you that.”
A laugh escaped, almost startled, maybe nervous but not quite; a disbelieving breath that they had come this far at all, when Caspian had not thought it possible.
“That’s all I needed to hear,” he said, voice quiet, almost a whisper, but still audible over the sound of the water and the boat. “That I’m not a kid to you.”
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Posted: Sun Jul 03, 2016 8:05 am
Michael couldn’t see the expression on Caspian’s face, but he could see the tension in his shoulders and feel it in his posture as Michael kept his arm around him. Why it was so important for Caspian to know that he didn’t think of him in any way that might be less than as an equal, he didn’t know.
But it was probably the most important thing he could think of at that moment.
And yet… Michael knew that all this talk of how he didn’t think of Caspian as a kid, and suggesting that he shouldn’t feel ashamed of how he looked… and Michael also had his shirt on, feeling oddly self conscious around someone who said they looked up to him.
Normally, he couldn’t care what people thought of how he looked. They usually did not bother with the flaws, instead focusing on what people would consider ‘ideal’. It was better that way. They didn’t have to know about where he got his scars or what his tattoos meant to him, or anything like that.
They saw a man who was probably a gym bunny and only cared about his appearances. Which… really wasn’t far from the truth. If anything, he wanted a distraction from the flaws, so yes… he did try hard to keep in shape because it meant less questions.
Michael shifted his hold on Caspian’s shirt, slowly releasing his fingers from where he clasped down and pulled his arm away.
Caspian was different than the others, which made him strangely self conscious because unlike anyone else, Caspian was more likely to care, which was still a concept that bothered him. And although he wasn’t entirely sure if Caspian would realize how against he was just… taking off his shirt in front of him, he did so anyway. He pulled at the hem of the grey shirt and tugged it up over his head, careful not to knock the glasses off and into the water.
He didn’t say anything, just balled the shirt up and tossed it towards where the cooler and Caspian’s backpack was stored so it wouldn’t fly away. Michael wasn’t without scars, most noticeably for those who cared all along his left side; burn marks that stretched from below his waistband and partially across his lower back, and up towards his ribcage, partially ruining the roots of what looked like a tree done in white and brown ink so that it was barely visible unless close enough. More visible than that tattoo were the twin swallows on the inside of his left bicep, hidden from view unless Michael lifted his arm. On the right side of his hip was another scar, but it was obstructed from view by the shorts he wore.
Michael drew in a deep breath and let it out, unable to look Caspian in the eye, should he turn around. Part of him hoped that he wouldn’t, but it was the only thing he could think of doing at that moment to prove himself. However silly it might be.
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Posted: Sun Jul 03, 2016 7:35 pm
The silence stretched between them, tense in a way that was not exactly strained, but not exactly relaxed either. Caspian felt Michael shift behind him, and then the warmth of his arm fell away from his waist; he felt the loss of it immediately, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again, trying to steady himself.
But there was a rustling sound from behind him, a shifting of fabric and clothing. Caspian stood stock still, his eyes widening, his heart hammering hard in his chest, and for a few seconds he did nothing but try and breathe properly, confusion tangling his head.
Silence again. Whatever Michael had done was finished, and slowly, very slowly, Caspian turned around.
Oh.
Words escaped him, his lips parted in an expression of stunned disbelief before he managed to remember to snap his mouth shut again. Caspian’s eyes traveled from Michael’s averted face down his bare, well-muscled torso, then to each and every one of the scars that were visible on his lightly tanned skin. There were tattoos as well, but it was to the burn marks that Caspian’s gaze went, sweeping across the marred flesh there, taking in the extent of them, how they twisted around his waist and went further around his back where Caspian could not see them.
And he knew, without needing it spoken aloud, what Michael was trying to convey.
Biting his lip, Caspian reached out a hand. His fingers brushed tentatively, hesitatingly over Michael’s skin - first to the arm scars that he had traced in the car - then lower, down his side, skimming over the burns that had obviously been agonizing.
His gaze rose, up to Michael’s face.
How can you possibly mean this much to me already?
How can you know just what to say or do to make me feel at ease with who I am?
When did I begin to rely on you so much?
“If you wanted to tell me,” said Caspian softly, his fingers still against the burn scars. “I would listen.”
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Posted: Sun Jul 03, 2016 8:04 pm
Michael could see Caspian turn around. He could see his expression out of the corner of his eye, but he wasn’t quite able to decipher what he was thinking. Michael flinched as Caspian’s fingers softly touched the places where he’d been scarred, first where the youma’s claws had cut through his right arm, and then to the burns on his left side, unable to stop the reaction, even though he knew it was just Caspian.
He was gentle about it, of course. Michael would expect nothing less from Caspian, who was kind and considerate, especially in regards to him for whatever reason that was. That didn’t mean Michael could bring himself to look at him. It wasn’t the heat from the sun that caused his face to turn a faint pink in color, or the wind that made it much more difficult to breathe.
Before Caspian could even finish letting him know that he would listen, Michael was shaking his head. He couldn’t tell him. Not yet anyway. He knew Caspian was trying to reach out to him, to show him it was okay to open himself up, but he hadn’t prepared himself for this.
A jolt from the waves made the boat suddenly rock, and Michael, distracted by the fact that Caspian’s attention had indeed turned to him and the scars he had, nearly lost his own balance. He reached out quickly, his hand bracing himself against the ship’s wheel before he could fall forward, his other arm instinctively wrapping itself around Caspian’s waist, pulling him close to prevent him from falling backwards and hitting the steering wheel, or getting caught between it and Michael.
Even though it was an accident that Michael had grabbed into him like he did, it suddenly felt as though that was what he should have done in the first place. His arm tightened around Caspian’s waist, before sliding up his back to press him more securely against his now bare chest.
There was a part of him screaming that this was too much, that this wasn’t what Caspian wanted or needed or anything like that. But now that Michael was holding onto him, and he could feel his own heart pounding in his chest, and knew that Caspian could probably feel it too… he would rather hold onto him so Caspian couldn’t look up at his face and see the confusion and embarrassment and shame that Michael felt about himself.
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Posted: Sun Jul 03, 2016 8:21 pm
He saw both the flinch and the shake of Michael’s head and knew that the story behind the scars wouldn’t come, at least not today. The walls were going back up, even if Michael hadn’t said anything, and Caspian felt the closing off as acutely as he felt the wind in his hair, the spray of salt water alongside them. He wondered if he’d pushed too far, if this was the moment when he’d be pushed away, told that was it -
The boat jolted, and Caspian, startled out of his desperate inner musings, staggered, caught off guard, his attention entirely on Michael, who was also swaying. But an arm wrapped around him, quick and unthinking, and Caspian found himself pulled forward, braced against Michael’s solid chest.
All rational thought seemed to escape his head. The boat was still moving, and the water was still there, and the wind was still whipping past them, but these were distant, vague observations. Caspian was all too aware of the warmth of Michael’s skin, of his arm tightening around his waist, of his strong hand sliding up Caspian’s back in a gesture incredibly reminiscent of that night in the boxcar.
It was the same, but it wasn’t.
Caspian’s arms were bent, trapped between his own chest and Michael’s, and for a few seconds, he was frozen in place, unable to move or even to think.
Slowly, his hand shifted, and his fingers were curled against his palm, resting against Michael’s chest. Caspian swallowed hard - it felt difficult to breathe properly - and carefully, hesitantly, he pulled an arm free and slid it tentatively around Michael’s waist. His other arm followed, movements a little shy, but his grasp tightened, and Caspian closed his eyes, pressing his face into Michael’s chest.
He could feel his heart beating rapidly - it felt like his own, unsteady and erratic, and Caspian held on a little tighter, fingers digging into the smooth expanse of sun-warmed skin of Michael’s back.
“You take care of me,” he said softly, after a moment. “Just...just know that I’ll do my best to take care of you, too.”
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Posted: Sun Jul 03, 2016 8:34 pm
Michael knew he was a coward. He'd admitted it not only to himself but to a few others as well. Other senshi and Knights sometimes curiously asked him how he could do the things he did, and he would tell them it was because he was a coward. Usually the conversation would end there, or they would insist that he wasn't, but he knew, deep down, that he was.
He was afraid of getting involved, afraid of putting himself into a position that he would later regret. No one ever knew what was going to happen. All he could do was control his own actions, and he liked to stay away as much as he could because he knew that he sometimes failed as well.
Caspian told him that he thought Sessrumnir was one of the more level-headed guys there at the fight in Negaspace, but that was because he wasn't controlled by emotion. He knew it was both his saving grace and would be his eventual downfall.
Michael held onto both the wheel of his sailboat and Caspian as he tried to get the sudden whirlwind of emotions and thoughts to settle, his fingers gripping tightly to the shirt Caspian wore.
I'll do my best to take care of you, too.
He could feel the warmth of Caspian's hands against his back, warmer and more comforting than the sun. Caspian's heart beat just as rapidly as his own, and Michael wondered what he could have possibly done for someone as compassionate and accepting as Caspian to want to bother with someone like him. He could be spending his days and nights with someone... better. Someone who wasn't so cynical and closed off. Someone who would surely dampen Caspian's bright light over time.
The defenses he's built around himself were desperately trying to stay up, but he knew they were still crumbling. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to survive it. What would he do to protect himself?
"I know," he said softly, just loud enough to be heard over the wind and waves. His throat felt tight, his head was still spinning, and there was a strange feeling in his stomach that he couldn't remember feeling before. As much of a coward he was, he thought maybe, just maybe, Caspian would help him find his courage again.
"I know you will... I trust you, Cas..."
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Posted: Sun Jul 03, 2016 8:44 pm
He was too aware.
Too aware of Michael’s hand gripping his shirt just as tightly as Caspian was holding onto his back. Too aware of the scent of cedarwood and citrus and saltwater and fresh air all around him, in his lungs. Too aware of the fact that his heart felt as though it was about to burst out of his chest, and that Michael’s was beating just as hard, and that he did not want to pull away and lose the warmth of this man.
It almost hurt to breathe. He found he was holding on too tightly and tried to loosen some of his grasp, the wind tousling his hair, his fingers leaving little marks on Michael’s back where he’d pressed them firmly.
He couldn’t distinguish what was happening inside of his head, inside of his chest, his stomach. The bravado that was normally so easily held onto was slipping into something more vulnerable and confused and uncertain, with the knowledge that all Caspian wanted to do was stay here, just like this, and let Michael’s warmth surrounded him. It comforted him, eased the parts of him that were unsteady.
It was too late, really, Caspian thought, as he slid a hand around to Michael’s side, fingers skimming tentatively over the burn marks once more, and they were shaking, ever so slightly. It was much, much too late to even think about walking away now.
He was already in too deep. He was already much too attached to Michael Gallo and he had no intention of leaving anytime soon.
Blue eyes lifted to meet Michael’s, Caspian biting his lip. He reached up a hand and touched his jaw briefly, a gentle smile shifting across his face before he dropped his fingers once more. Caspian turned back around, his back once more to Michael’s chest - but he took the hand that Michael had used to hold onto him and pulled it around himself once more in a brief, tight embrace from behind.
“Good,” he said quietly. “Because I trust you.”
He let go, not wanting to show how reluctant he was to do so, and took a deep, steadying breath.
“Autopilot now?”
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Posted: Sun Jul 03, 2016 8:47 pm
This was new territory for Michael. His confidence wavered, but it was carefully replaced by the trust he was putting in Caspian. He knew things could turn out badly, that this might end up breaking one or both of them when they realized that they just couldn’t handle what they’d gotten themselves into, but it was also too late to back out.
Michael’s eyes met Caspian’s as he looked up at him; a dazzling blue that, even in the sunlight, reminded him of the night sky, just after a perfect sailor’s sunset when the light vanished over the horizon.
It left him breathless, which confused Michael because he definitely knew Caspian’s eyes were that color blue before. Maybe it wasn’t just the color, but the way Caspian was looking at him. And Michael knew, with a single look, that Caspian really was putting his trust in him. It scared him, because he knew that it would be so easy for him to fail, to dash that trust so freely given. Hadn’t he told Caspian numerous times that he shouldn’t be so trusting? That it would only end up hurting him? And yet, here he was, putting his trust in Michael.
He dazedly watched as Caspian very gently touched his jaw, and then turned to face forward, towards the vast sea ahead of them. Michael didn’t know if he was ready, but he thought at least now… now it would be okay.
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