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 Posted: Thu Sep 22, 2016 7:59 am
He was silently pleased at Michael’s relaxed position, both of them mirroring each other, legs not quite touching, but placed close enough together that if Caspian shifted just an inch or two, he could lean them together. It was, admittedly, nice to see Michael so at ease; with the militaristic background that he had, Caspian expected him to the way he always had.
Maybe he was changing a little. Caspian slowly ate another bite of ice cream, stupidly happy to be doing even something as simple as eating ice cream together.
“Well, this place is pretty cool, anyway,” he said, gesturing with his spoon at their surroundings. “It’s super chill, I like it.”
A wide smile had broken out across Caspian’s face at the offer to ride with Michael whenever he wanted. “Next time I’ll wear jeans or something,” he said with a bob of his head. “It’s disgusting outside, so that’s why I was wearing shorts, I normally don’t,” he added, though he was relatively sure Michael knew this too well. His face colored a little in embarrassment at the reminder of his insecurities, and Caspian turned his head quickly to look out the window, taking his time to eat his ice cream.
“No brussel sprouts,” Caspian said thickly, his mouth full. He swallowed, and then said, with a mock glare in Michael’s direction, “If I have to eat brussel sprouts, then you have to eat a poptart every time you’re over.”
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Posted: Thu Sep 22, 2016 9:52 am
“I thought you might,” Michael said, a pleased note in his voice when Caspian said how he liked the cafe. “There are a few other places around the city I think you might like, too. We can make it a weekly thing if you’d like,” he offered as he scooped another bite of ice cream onto his spoon to eat. “There’s this Italian place I like. And you don’t mind fish, right? Because there’s also a sushi place that’s really good. And, well… I could probably name off a whole handful of them.”
He personally liked the idea. Sometimes he went by himself, if only to get out of the house or to get ideas for what he could make, himself. It was definitely more about the experience than the food.
“And you’ll have to let me know when you’re turning twenty-one so I can take you to the different bars around the city,” he said, holding the spoon in his mouth as he thought about what else he had in mind. It was strange, he knew, planning things like that. It was new to him and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was doing it completely wrong. All he knew was that he had an irrational desire to spend more time with Caspian.
“I don’t blame you for wearing shorts in this heat,” he said, tapping the tip of Caspian’s shoe with the back of his hand. He knew better than to make any comment about him wearing long sleeves, although Michael wished there was something he could do to help Caspian ease himself into thinking about himself in a better light.
“They look good on you, though,” he said, his voice honest although a little hesitant because he wasn’t sure if he was going to embarrass Caspian or upset him. “Your legs look nice, probably from skateboarding and volleyball. It’s a shame you don’t show them off more.”
He knew Caspian was self conscious, so just so he didn’t feel on the spot, Michael made sure to focus on his ice cream so he wouldn’t see any reaction to the compliment that Caspian might not want him to see.
“You’ve never had the brussel sprouts I’ve made,” he said with only a small frown at his ice cream. “I’ll make some for you once, and if you don’t like them then I’ll never make them again, deal? You can’t live off of poptarts, Cas. And I thought you said you were open to trying things at least once,” he said, finally glancing up to give him a pointed look.
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Posted: Fri Sep 23, 2016 6:00 pm
There was a stupid thrill in his stomach at the prospect of Michael wanting to have this happen on more than one occasion. Caspian tried not to look so excited about it, biting down on the plastic spoon in order to keep his silly grin from spreading farther; but he said, as casually as he could, “Yeah, I like fish. I think that’d be cool to try out all of your little hidey holes, I like a lot of food. Except vegetables,” he added, with a pointed look at Michael, though the smile he was trying to hide kept tugging on his lips. “I don’t turn twenty-one for a bit but when I do, you can show me to the best bar in town.”
Not that he didn’t drink already, but at least if he was twenty-one he could go out and drink. Caspian was halfway through his ice cream by now, and it was just as good now as it had been when he’d first started eating.
They look good on you, though.
Your legs look nice.
His heart felt too much, Caspian thought; too much and too heart, his face steadily growing redder as he stared at Michael, biting his lip. The compliments were hesitant, coming from Michael, but wholly truthful, Caspian knew, and this was why they hit as hard they did. He was self-conscious enough as it was, but somehow, Michael’s gentle acceptance and his continued patience in this regard made him feel as though they were deeper somehow than just words.
You still manage to say everything without saying it all at once, he thought, as he averted his gaze; not out of upset, but because he wanted to do so much more than just speak and didn’t know how to deal with it.
“...thanks,” said Caspian quietly, after a long moment. “Um. I will.”
A pause.
“To you,” he said, in an even quieter voice. “It’s...okay if it’s to you.”
And maybe it would be. Maybe if he was around Michael more, maybe if he let himself be more, than he’d eventually feel more comfortable in his own skin. Caspian felt a drip of ice cream on his finger and put his spoon back into the bowl, raising his hand to lick it off.
“Fine, I’ll try the brussel sprouts,” he said, gaze flickering back up to Michael. “But only if you’re the one making them, if Peter makes them, I’m afraid I’ll get food poisoning or something.”
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Posted: Fri Sep 23, 2016 10:02 pm
”Vegetables are good for you,” Michael countered, as he scrapped at the bottom of his ice cream cup. He was glad that Caspian didn’t seem too against the idea. Or against it at all. He seemed like he thought he would enjoy it, which was good. Even still, Michael nodded in agreement as he thought about where he should show Caspian next.
The words Caspian spoke next were quiet and almost shy, although that wasn’t anything more or less than what Michael had expected. He knew how Caspian was about how he looked, even though Michael didn’t find anything about him unappealing, but he could at least sympathize.
With the last spoonful of his ice cream in his mouth, Michael set the cup and spoon down, wiped the hand that had been holding the cup off on his jeans, and reached out to place his cold palm on Caspian’s bare shin. It wasn’t as though he said what he’d said to draw attention to the things that Caspian didn’t like about himself, but rather to just… let him know that he didn’t mind.
“Peter also doesn’t know how to cook, so there’s that problem,” he pointed out, his hand still locked onto Caspian’s shin, if only to bother him with the cold. “It’s okay if you don’t like them, though. They’re a little difficult to get just right, and they have the potential to turn too bitter. Mine are usually just cooked in a lot of butter, or even caramelized. You should tell me some food you’ve never had that you might like to try and I’ll make some for you. Or even stuff you don’t want to try. You never know,” Michael shrugged, a small grin of amusement making its way to his lips.
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Posted: Sun Sep 25, 2016 11:46 am
”Only some vegetables are,” said Caspian airily, waving his spoon around, but he was mostly just being stubborn because he knew it would exasperate Michael. “I heard green beans give you hives,” he added in a deadpan, fighting a grin that kept threatening to break out across his silly facade.
He wished, not for the first time, that he was not quite so...self-conscious. Michael was self-deprecating in an entirely different way, Caspian knew, but he wasn’t as conscious of physical appearance as Caspian was. And why, really, should he be? He had trained in the military, and he had been a knight for years; he was a strong, capable, well-built man, which Caspian had seen first hand - and really, which he wouldn’t mind seeing again sometime soon (he hoped). But Caspian…
Caspian was not muscular, not like Michael was, and hardly reached his shoulder in height. He was lithe in his own way, not stick skinny and not slender; vaguely effeminate though he was in terms of his clothes and his tendency towards jewelry and nail polish, Caspian was still lightly limber in places. But he was all-too aware of the difference in his own appearance and Michael’s, and everyone’s for that matter.
A cold hand wrapped around his ankle, startling him out of his own inner musings; which admittedly, were not the most positive. Caspian’s eyes flickered to his leg and to Michael’s fingers, to the calm way in which he had done it, and felt a rising heat in his cheeks, his lips pressing together, his lashes fluttering.
A simple, wordless gesture of support and all Caspian wanted to do was hug him.
He tried to focus.
“I’ve never had sashimi,” said Caspian musingly. “Or cooked cabbage. Or a lot of anything that isn’t takeout, really.”
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Posted: Sun Sep 25, 2016 1:17 pm
Sure enough, Michael gave Caspian an exasperated look and shook his head. “Very funny,” he said with a frown, although it was halfhearted at best. He knew Caspian was just joking (he hoped), but that didn’t mean he couldn’t think it was ridiculous.
“Really? Never?” Michael wondered out loud, although he supposed it wasn’t so strange that Caspian hadn’t had a lot of different types of food, especially since he had a lot of takeout, as he said. “Well, that’ll have to change,” Michael decided, releasing his hold he had on Caspian’s ankle, but only so he could absently run his fingers where he could reach on his leg and ankle.
“Alright, so I’ll just have to add that to the list. You’re going to give me a lot to research, I bet. I haven’t exactly had professional training,” he said, trying to think of what he could make. “And you do realize that cabbage is a vegetable.”
He liked this. It was relaxing, just sitting and talking to Caspian like this. There wasn’t pressure to explain himself or to go into detail about things, but just… enjoying each other’s company. Or at least Michael enjoyed Caspian’s company.
Michael hesitated for a few moments, trying to study the expression on Caspian’s face. He looked happy enough. He thought he still saw a hint of sadness and loneliness hiding somewhere in there. Memories or bad feelings that might have surfaced when Michael had drawn attention to his legs. He’d seen where Caspian’s expression faltered and his gaze turn a bit glassy, as though lost in thought. It made him sad to know that Caspian still probably felt pretty alone, especially with how Michael tended to act as though he was ready to walk away.
But he’d promised… Michael had promised not to push him away any more.
“Hey,” he said softly, his expression shifting into something more serious, and probably a little pained with concern, although there was a hint of determination in there. “You know I like you, right? Because I do…”
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Posted: Sun Sep 25, 2016 5:49 pm
The quiet, soothing trail of Michael’s fingers on his ankle was leaving little tingles where he touched; Caspian set his empty bowl on the table beside them and curled his fingers in his sleeves, twisting the fabric around absently and trying not to think too hard about things that shouldn’t need to be overthought.
A small laugh escaped him. “Yeah, I know cabbage is a vegetable, thank you,” said Caspian, rolling his eyes. “But I’ve only ever had it raw and it was gross. I don’t know if it’s better or worse when it’s cooked, everyone always tells me it’s better. Maybe if it’s good I’ll actually eat green things more than once.”
He liked the idea of Michael cooking for him, liked the idea of spending more time with him even more. Caspian felt the shift in atmosphere almost at the same time he saw it, Michael’s expression flickering to something that wasn’t as laid back and relaxed as it had been before. Caspian felt a swell of nervousness, wondering if he’d done or said something that was wrong and was about to be called out on it.
But that wasn’t it.
You know I like you, right?
He felt again that absurd feeling of being young, hating the sensation. Caspian swallowed hard, and the cafe around them seemed to melt into nothing, the soft sounds of shifting chairs and casual chatter ebbing into nothing more than background noise. Caspian wasn’t looking at Michael, but at the place where his hand was, still smoothing gently up and down his leg.
The question he did not want to ask came out anyway.
“What kind of like?”
He felt his face burn, Caspian fighting the frustration that he had let build up and only just release now, at all times, when they’d been having such a good time, relaxed and at ease. He swallowed hard, trying not to consider the fact that he might very well be scaring Michael off or making him feel pressured or anything else negative.
“Is it...my kind of like?” Caspian asked quietly, and his voice was very soft, barely above a whisper, as though he was afraid to hear the answer. “Because I...like you, Michael.”
The heat rose in his cheeks further; he twisted his sleeves, still not looking at him.
“And my kind of like is...is the kind like...that morning,” he said. “Where I want to...be close to you. Kiss you. Just...be near you.”
He closed his eyes, the insecurities making him ashamed of himself for how much he was putting on Michael, how much he was probably ruining this.
“Sometimes I wonder if…” He swallowed again. “If you’re just...going along with it because it’s me, because I forced you into feeling like you had to keep being with me, and I don’t - want you to feel obligated or pressured, or anything, I…”
Caspian stopped, breaking off, gaze focused on the table next to them, his heart in his throat.
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Posted: Sun Sep 25, 2016 7:02 pm
Michael knew before he’d said it that Caspian might not have the best reaction, and that was okay. Caspian had the right to know. After everything Michael had put Caspian through, he at least had the right to know how he felt. Well, at least as much as Michael understood how he felt, himself.
What kind of like?
His heart throbbed painfully. He could see the turmoil swirling in Caspian’s eyes; the confusion, the pain, the anxiety, and unrest. Michael felt… completely helpless. He was the one who opened up the topic, and now he had no idea what to do to make things right.
What if he couldn’t make things right? What if this was just how it was going to be? He tended to speak poorly about himself, and Caspian thought poorly about himself as well. Michael felt as though they were always reaching out to each other, but only able to hold on by the tips of their fingers. As if one wrong move and it would all be over.
Slowly, Michael removed his hand from Caspian’s leg, and his feet lowered from where they rested on Caspian’s seat. He knew there wasn’t any good way for him to explain how he felt since he hadn’t exactly felt that way before. He knew he liked Caspian. He knew he wanted to spend more time with him. And he knew it was no longer a platonic feeling he felt towards him, but something more.
Michael rose to his feet, but unlike other times where he would just absently do something, or do it on instinct, this was a little of both. He knew exactly what he was doing, but it didn’t seem forced, nor had it been planned.
He took a step forward, which was just enough for him to be able to reach out and place his hands on the armrests of Caspian’s chair, leaning over him. Michael was aware that there were other people still in the cafe around them, going about their own business. Maybe they were watching, maybe they weren’t. Part of him worried that Caspian would be uncomfortable with being cornered like this, but it was something that he had to do. He wasn’t sure if he could formulate the right words.
“You didn’t force me to feel anything, Cas,” he said softly, trying to get a look at Caspian’s face, even as he turned away. His heart was pounding, but he didn’t care. “I don’t feel obligated or pressured. I…” he tried, but realized he was not getting anywhere by just talking.
It didn’t take much to lean closer, though. Deciding to put the words that he couldn’t quite form into action. He didn’t kiss Caspian on the lips, at least not yet. Instead he leaned down to kiss Caspian’s temple, and then his jaw, and finally his neck. He didn’t linger, if only for Caspian’s comfort since he didn’t know how he felt about public displays of affection, but he wanted to prove himself however he could.
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Posted: Sun Sep 25, 2016 7:16 pm
He felt, since he was not looking at him, Michael begin to withdraw. The hand that was on his ankle slid away, the legs that were stretched alongside his own shifted, and Caspian felt the tension, the fear, and the anxiety all roil together, coiling and twisting unpleasantly in his stomach. He’d pushed too far, finally; the line was there, and he’d crossed it, and now Michael wouldn’t want anything to do with him. He’d tell Caspian it was too much, and he’d walk away and that would be that.
How could I have screwed it up so fast?
But before Caspian could fully get his mind around this devastating fact, he felt, again, rather than saw, the hands shift to either side of him, effectively trapping him in his seat. Blue eyes snapped wide, Caspian’s line of thought stuttering to a halt - and for a moment he’d forgotten how to breathe properly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as though trying to make up for this fact.
He couldn’t look at Michael. Caspian stared at the table, his fingers clenching in the sleeves of his shirt, his mouth suddenly dry. If the world had stopped around them, he hadn’t noticed, every inch of him, save for his eyes, focused solely on Michael; on that low, resonating voice that seemed to throb in Caspian’s ears, on the overwhelming presence of him, leaning over, boxing Caspian in his seat in a way that left him breathless.
Warm lips brushed his temple, a startled breath escaping Caspian. The kiss was soft and brief; tender in a way that spoke volumes when words could not be found. Then his jaw, which felt more intimate, more affectionate, a ragged breath leaving Caspian now. And finally, warmly, his neck, which had him almost gasping in stunned disbelief, Caspian’s lips parting, his entire body trembling beneath it.
The last kiss felt the most intimate, the most emotional of all, and Caspian felt the heat of it spread through him, swallowing hard, his lashes fluttering.
It was obvious - too obvious, maybe - that the kisses affected him painfully hard, Caspian almost dizzied by them. However light and fleeting they had been, they had been given to him by Michael - had been an attempt for Michael to show how he felt through actions, rather than words, and Caspian knew this, knew what Michael was trying to convey. Or at least, he thought he did, wanted desperately to believe he did.
They were still in public. Caspian had never minded that before, but he minded now, because he didn’t want to be in public. He wanted to be secluded away in some spot away from the interruptions of Peter and the social niceties so that he could explore this - this, whatever it was, so that he could feel more of this warmth on his skin.
Caspian’s hand lifted; trembling fingers curled around Michael’s arm, braced to his right. Caspian turned his head just slightly and silently, tentatively, nuzzled his face against Michael’s, his eyes still averted. But his hand tightened, his other rising to curl in the front of Michael’s shirt, holding on to him.
He wanted to say something - anything - but words wouldn’t come.
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Posted: Sun Sep 25, 2016 7:38 pm
He could hear each breath from Caspian, each startled gasp. He could feel the heat that rose in his cheeks and made his pulse beat quickly, maybe even painfully fast. Michael knew because his heart felt the same way, as though it would maybe burst within him.
Despite his age, and despite the experience that he had when it came to the physicality of being with another person, Michael had never really had the opportunity, nor the desire, to really put his heart and mind into it. Everything before seemed to have been done instinct; shallow and searching for something that would never quite fill the void he felt.
But Caspian had offered him something that was beyond all that. It was almost maddening that Michael didn’t know how to explain it in words. How could he tell someone how he felt about someone who others may look at as too young for someone like him, or maybe even think he was taking advantage of Caspian’s innocence.
How could he explain that his desire to protect Caspian not only rivaled his desire to protect his family, but was beyond that? He didn’t just want to stand in the shadows until he was needed, like with his family, but stand side by side with Caspian until the bitter end.
Michael kept his face close to Caspian’s, his eyes closed as he leaned heavily on the armrests of the chair. He could feel Caspian’s cheek against his own, Caspian’s hand curled around his arm, and the front of his shirt. He knew there was only so much he could do with actions, especially in public, but he wasn’t sure if the words he said were necessarily enough to really explain himself.
“You’re my color and my light,” he said softly, and almost a bit hesitantly if only because he knew how ridiculous that must sound. Michael, despite his appreciation for literature, didn’t consider himself much of a poet, nor was he very fond of cliches, which he realized his words might sound like.
He shook his head lightly, wishing he could figure out a way to explain himself better.
“I need you, Cas… I trust you. You’ve shown me more patience and understanding than I ever thought possible. I know I’m difficult, and I still feel lost, but you’ve let me see there’s more to life again than just existing. I like you… more than I probably should… If I could get away with kissing you all day, I would.”
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Posted: Sun Sep 25, 2016 7:49 pm
It somehow didn’t matter that they were still in the cafe in one regard; and that was the fact that, in spite of their public presence, the moment still felt fragile and intimate and tender all at once. Nothing could take that away; it surrounded Caspian, enveloped him, warmth against his skin and in his heart so that all that he felt and saw and heard was Michael.
He could not have known how to respond to this; could never have known that such sweet, soft things could come from Michael John Gallo, the same Michael John Gallo that had once refused to help Caspian down from a wall because, as he’d said, you got yourself up, you can get yourself down. But here they were, Caspian trapped in his seat, with Michael in front of him.
Michael, saying things like You’re my color and my light and sending spirals of emotion through Caspian, emotions that felt overwhelming in a new way, emotions that clogged at his throat, made his breath feel ragged in his tight chest. Michael’s voice was quiet in his ears, their heads still pressed together, and the entire building could have burnt to the ground around them and Caspian would not have noticed.
I need you.
I like you.
If I could get away with kissing you all day, I would.
He couldn’t think. His brain had short circuited, his mind twisting and curling and whizzing around with thoughts that he could not disentangle, Caspian’s eyes stinging at the corners. He blinked rapidly, his fingers clenching tightly to Michael, and it felt like sweet, tender relief, and a breath of fresh air all at once, paired with a sweeping sense of anxiousness and need and affection all at once.
How can you expect me to even breathe after you say things like that to me?
Do you even know what you do to me?
Caspian swallowed hard, his hands trembling still.
“Then,” he said, his voice shaky. “S-show me that, sometimes. Make the first move. I just...I just need to be reminded of things like that.”
He wanted, desperately to kiss Michael now, his head shifting, still nuzzling against his, Caspian barely restraining himself.
“If we...weren’t in public now,” he mumbled. “I would…”
He trailed off, taking a small, aching breath. Caspian hesitated, then tilted his head up slightly and pressed his lips very lightly to Michael’s ear.
“I...like you, Michael,” he whispered. “So much.”
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Posted: Sun Sep 25, 2016 8:54 pm
If someone had told him, even just a month ago, that he would have become as enamoured by Caspian as he was now, he probably would have laughed. And not a happy laugh, but a cold and bitter one. It was no secret that he avoided getting close to anyone, and those he was closer to were either family or might as well have been family. He hadn’t sought this out. In fact, he was sure Caspian would quickly remind him that he tried very hard to make sure this didn’t happen.
But it was happening. He was falling for this troublesome young man with a pension for teasing and jokes. Michael just hadn’t expected anyone to be so damn stubborn that they refused to walk away from him, even after all the things he’d said and done.
He let out a small laugh, quiet but filled with amusement and everything he had been feeling up until that point. There was still concern and anxiety, but it was easily pushed aside by how light he felt. It was almost ridiculous.
“Give me a break, your majesty,” he said softly as Caspian kissed his ear, still leaning over the chair. “I’ve only known you were even interested for less than a week. I can't exactly make the first move if I don't get the opportunity," he half teased.
Michael didn't think of himself as a very sentimental man. He didn't keep pictures with him, nor did he save anything that might remind him of one time or another. His house was devoid of any personal touches. His relationships were shallow and purposefully clipped short for anyone not his family. So the fact that he felt so attached to Caspian was still a very strange, new concept for him. A concept that he didn't know if he would ever be confident enough about.
But Caspian seemed okay with it. Caspian behaved in a way that made it seem as though he was new to the idea, too. So maybe it was better that way. Despite neither of them having a very clear idea of what was okay and what wasn't, Michael thought that it was probably a good thing that they were working through it together.
He paused for a moment, having caught Caspian's half mumbled comment and frowned slightly. Part of him didn't want to put Caspian on the spot, but a stronger part was curious.
"If we weren't in public..." he repeated softly against Caspian's ear, knowing very well that it sounded a bit suggestive. Or a lot suggestive. "What would you do...? Because I know what I'd do..."
He drew back then, lowering himself to rest on his heels, his arms still stretched out across the arms of the chair, but this vantage point let him see Caspian's expression better, because he wanted to make sure he wasn't pushing too far.
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2016 8:11 pm
The laughter was breathed out against his cheek, soothing and warm. Caspian’s lashes fluttered, his eyes flickering as he tried not to let it go straight to his heart - which he failed miserably at. It was sweet and safe here with Michael; strong arms were on either side of him, still keeping him in place, but Caspian did not feel trapped, only protected, somehow.
His own laugh was still a little shaky, Caspian letting go of the front of Michael’s shirt to absently trail fingers down the front of his chest; a skimming, barely there touch before he drew them back up again and then let his hand fall away the more Michael spoke.
The question made his eyes widen, made his face burn. Caspian heard because I know what I’d do resonating inside of his chest almost like a physical vibration, his breath stuttering out of him, his face still turned resolutely away. Michael’s lips were against his ear, sending shivers down his spine, and he could see, out of the corner of his eye, as he shifted down, kneeling in front of him.
What would he do? Caspian knew too well what he would do, but Michael…
He finally, slowly, managed to turn his head to look at Michael, his expression lacking his usual bravado and relaxed mischief. It was replaced by something quieter, more uncertain and anxious, but still steeped in an undeniable affection that Caspian could not truly hide, no matter what.
He liked Michael, was too attached now to staunch the overwhelming emotions that kept threatening now.
The hand that was not still on Michael’s arm lifted, touched his face. Caspian trailed fingers lightly down his jaw, then, tentatively, allowed them to rest on Michael’s lips, feeling a swooping sensation low in his stomach.
“Kiss you,” he mumbled softly, voice low. “A lot.”
It sounded stupid even to his own head, Caspian’s face flushing further. He let his fingers slip down, curling in the neckline of Michael’s shirt.
“And…” He swallowed hard, averting his gaze.
“...you?”
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Posted: Tue Sep 27, 2016 8:33 pm
The shaky laughter and flush on Caspian's face made Michael's stomach flutter pleasantly. It wasn't that he was necessarily trying to embarrass him or make him uncomfortable, but Michael always found it incredibly endearing. He supposed he should feel bad about it, but when Caspian looked at him with that soft, almost shy gaze, Michael felt as though he really was the only person Caspian had ever felt this close to, as he did with Caspian.
When his fingers brushed against his face and then over his lips, Michael kissed them, doing his best to fight back a small grin of amusement over Caspian's flushed face and nervous mumbling. His eyes were warm where they were usually icy, having been melted by Caspian's patience and compassion, he was sure.
"I mean..." he said softly, almost casually with a small shrug. "I would kiss you, a lot, too..." He was almost glad Caspian looked away again, if only because he wasn't sure he could hide the desirous gleam in his eyes. It was subtle but it was there, and he tried not to make it too obvious, although he was sure that his comments already steered Caspian in that direction.
"And I wouldn't do anything you didn't want me to do..." he added softly, surprised that he was able to keep his hands to himself when he really just wanted to reach out and touch Caspian's hair, or maybe his face or neck. But they were, as Caspian commented, in public. And there were still people around.
"We don't have to stay here," he said, his eyes still on Caspian's flushed face, but his own expression had shifted to something a little more serious, a little more affectionate, his eyes softer than they had been just moments before. If anything, he was more concerned by Caspian's comfort than anything else.
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Posted: Wed Sep 28, 2016 6:06 pm
He felt the brief flutter of a kiss against his fingers and it made his heart melt in his chest. Caspian’s breath felt thick in his throat, and he was trying very hard not to overthink this - except, of course, that he was, because that was apparently what he did best.
Michael’s little shrug almost made him laugh, but it was what followed that took away that desire, replacing it with a different sort of desire and a different sort of affection that had nothing to do with laughter right at the moment. Caspian felt a surge of appreciation at Michael’s attempts at making him comfortable, because that, he knew, was what Michael did. He took care of him, made sure he was all right, and had been doing that since they had first met, even if now it had a different feeling to it.
He remembered the sensation of Michael’s lips on his and the warmth of his hands and thought he might be stupidly, ridiculously, in over his head already with this man before him, and he had no intention of trying to climb out, not now, not ever, he thought. Caspian’s eyes slowly moved back to Michael’s face, his heart beating hard and fast enough that it felt deafening in his own ears.
He swallowed hard, the affectionate look in Michael’s eyes making him feel slightly dizzy.
“...your place,” he said quietly, after a moment. “Peter’s not home.”
And in case it sounded trashy, which he sincerely hoped it didn’t, Caspian added softly, “I just want to...get to know you a little better in...a different way.”
His cheeks were flushed, but he wasn’t shying away, Caspian biting his lower lip as he looked at Michael.
He had heard Michael’s words and felt the warmth of his kisses on his skin - and now he wanted to feel what he had said.
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