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 Posted: Thu Nov 17, 2016 12:10 pm
He felt dazed, his emotions twisting and curling inside of his chest, so that every breath drew him closer to Michael, closer to making this fragile thing that much more real between them. Michael’s arms were tight around him, holding him in place, and he felt safer than ever, Caspian’s hands still on either side of his face.
They lowered as Michael shifted and half turned his head, arms sliding around Michael’s neck instead, and somehow, in spite of everything, Caspian knew this wasn’t a rejection. Michael was backing up and walking, and Caspian simply held on more securely, his heart pounding, but his eyes were still on Michael’s face, as though he couldn’t tear his gaze away.
He’d been in Michael’s room many times by now, but this - this was not the same. He’d been wracked with insecurities before, or lying in pain from his attack, or even just relaxing in the same bed, but this - this was different.
This was something much more than what Caspian could put into words.
Laid carefully on his back on the bed, Caspian stared up at Michael with wide eyes, his heartbeat erratic in his chest. He could hardly breathe, his emotions in overdrive, his chest feeling too tight to draw in air and keep it properly in his lungs, and if there had been any question of how he felt towards Michael, it was gone now. The affection and need was burning in his gaze, even if it was tinged with a self-consciousness he couldn’t fully hide away; a nervousness that stemmed from a small concern in his heart that anything more - any revealing of what he looked like without the long sleeves would turn Michael away.
But Michael’s hands were gentle, and so was his gaze. Caspian was trembling a little, his heart in his throat, and then Michael was kissing him again, and he forgot how to think, how to breathe. He held on, his fingers holding to the front of Michael’s shirt as he sank into the kiss, letting out a soft sound of pleasure against his mouth.
His fingers slid down Michael’s sides; and tentatively they shifted beneath the hem of his shirt, finding the warm skin beneath. Caspian hadn’t allowed himself this before, but he wanted it now, hesitant and shy in every movement, not letting himself go farther than the right at the hem.
When they broke off for air, his eyes rose, dazed, to meet Michael’s.
There was a wordless question there - and an answer of his own, Caspian biting his lip.
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Posted: Thu Nov 17, 2016 12:53 pm
Through the haze of emotions that overtook him, Michael was very aware that Caspian was doing nothing to push him away. He was accepting him in every way that he could, opening his heart to him, despite what they’d been through. Michael was still afraid of hurting him somehow, but he was more concerned with protecting him. Of making his sadness and self doubt disappear.
He drew back only enough to try and catch his breath, staring down at Caspian with an absurd amount of affection and desire, the hand he had against Caspian’s face gently brushing his hair back. It wasn’t difficult for him to catch Caspian’s gaze, although he wasn’t entirely sure he was reading it right.
But Caspian’s hands were warm against his sides, and it only took a little bit for him to reach down and take the hem of his shirt, and worked on pulling it up, shifting arms to support himself over Caspian as he tugged it off, over his head.
It was only the second time he’d taken off his shirt around Caspian, and he tried not to reveal his hesitancy with it, but he knew the questions were there. They would always be there because Caspian cared and wanted to know and wanted to help him, but for now Michael did his best to ignore his scars as he focused on the emotions swirling in Caspian’s eyes.
Michael’s shirt was unceremoniously dropped to the floor, and he leaned down to press small kisses over Caspian’s face as his hands worked on taking hold of the hem of Caspian’s shirt. He knew very well how self conscious Caspian was, and he didn’t want to do anything that would upset him, but he also wanted to prove that he was different, and that he saw Caspian not as anything that he feared himself to be, but as someone who was handsomely beautiful in every way.
The kisses were a distraction, of course. He kissed Caspian’s nose and cheeks and mouth and his neck, at least until it was time to try and tug the shirt up and over his head.
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Posted: Thu Nov 17, 2016 1:15 pm
He thought, maybe, that he was drowning.
Except drowning implied something unpleasant, and what Caspian was experiencing was far, far from unpleasant. It was overwhelming, wonderful, frightening, exhilarating, all at once. He was swimming in his emotions, the tide of them cascading through him as Caspian looked up at Michael, his fingers stilling on his sides.
And Michael -
Michael was drawing his shirt off, dropping it to the ground without so much as a second glance. Caspian felt his breath catch in his throat, his mouth dry as he stared, but he did not get much of a chance to let his gaze roam. MIchael had leaned down again, and his lips were moving warmly, adoringly across Caspian’s face, peppering kisses that felt like stars on his cheeks, his nose, his mouth.
There were hands on his own shirt, but Michael’s mouth was on his neck, and Caspian couldn’t think straight, his breathing coming out faster, more uneven. He was vaguely aware of the shift, and then his own shirt, before he could stop it, was being tugged off, and then he was half bare beneath Michael, Caspian’s eyes wide.
He froze, instinctively, half propped up on one elbow, one hand on Michael’s shoulder, the other in the sheets beneath him.
He was paler skinned, of course, and slighter. Not slender, exactly, but not as muscled and built as Michael was, all strength and brawn. Caspian was limber and lithe, but the youthful difference between the two of them was obvious and stark. The tattoo on his hip was just barely visible, peeking out from the waistband of his sweats, and the one on his shoulder was made of shifting black and blues, glinting a little with silver.
Slowly, Caspian’s gaze rose back up to Michael’s, and he was biting his lip, looking - not quite anxious, but almost expectant, as though he knew Michael would change his mind now, and he was desperate for him not to, his expression pained.
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Posted: Thu Nov 17, 2016 2:32 pm
Michael had expected a reaction, although he wasn’t entirely sure what kind of reaction it would be. Not anything open and welcoming, at least not right now. Maybe one day, if whatever this was lasted between them. If they somehow continued to fight through their problems and insecurities together.
Caspian’s hand was on his shoulder, but he didn’t draw back or look away. His eyes were locked on Caspian’s, trying to silently reassure him. He could see the emotion in Caspian’s eyes, and he was biting his lip again; a nervous habit, Michael was learning over time.
Still steadying himself over Caspian with one arm, he lifted his other to place directly on Caspian’s chest, almost as though he was trying to feel the beat of his heart. He could, of course. It was pounding almost erratically beneath his palm and fingers.
And then, purposefully, he drew his gaze away from Caspian’s face to look at him fully. Caspian did look young, but only because he seemed to be caught somewhere between a growing youth and an adult, which Michael didn’t think was anything he could have controlled, and not anything Michael thought was unattractive. Caspian was a very attractive young man, regardless of what he thought of himself. He tended to hide away and not want anyone to see, but in the end it just meant that there was one more piece of Caspian that Michael got to keep almost exclusively for himself.
He let his fingers gently brush over Caspian’s bare skin, over his chest and down to his stomach, touching him with a confidence that meant to prove that he still wanted him, despite whatever it was that Caspian thought of himself.
Michael leaned closer, pressing against the hand on his shoulder, his hand lowered to Caspian’s hip, his thumb brushing over the barely visible tattoo under the waistband. His lips ghosted over Caspian’s face, over his lips and cheek, before reaching his ear, where he kissed him softly before whispering, “I want you, Cas…”
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Posted: Fri Nov 18, 2016 12:41 pm
Michael’s hand felt hot.
His palm was placed in the center of Caspian’s chest, right above his erratically beating heart; he felt the heat of it sinking into his already flushed skin, his pulse rocketing, his fingers clenching unconsciously on Michael’s shoulder as though trying to steady himself.
Michael wasn’t looking at his face - Michael was looking at his bare torso, his gaze sweeping over the newly exposed skin, and Caspian felt like his lungs had constricted. He was trembling underneath the weight of that gaze, which moved purposefully, just as his hand did a second later, fingers trailing over Caspian’s chest and stomach and leaving heat in their wake; little paths that made Caspian’s entire body tingle all over.
You’ll leave now, Caspian thought, his mouth feeling dry. You’ll leave, because you’ll realize it’s one thing to say you don’t mind, it’s another thing entirely to actually do anything about it.
He waited, wondering if his heart could take it if Michael did walk away.
But -
But he wasn’t. Michael wasn’t leaning back, he was leaning forward; his hand had moved to hold onto Caspian’s hip and he was pushing against the hand Caspian had on his shoulder to press his lips to Caspian’s cheek, his mouth, his ear. Caspian’s eyes were wide and startled, his hand sliding to curl around the back of Michael’s neck in an instinctive gesture.
I want you, Cas.
He sucked in a disbelieving breath of air, and it felt like breathing for the first time. Caspian felt shivers ripple up and down his spine, his lashes fluttering, hardly daring to even hope for what was happening.
After all this, Michael still wanted him.
Caspian leaned back against the pillows, his heart thunderous in his ears. His hands smoothed down Michael’s neck and shoulders and then back up again, and fingers caught Michael’s face between his hands, Caspian’s eyes, absurdly, stinging, as he stared up at him, as though hardly able to comprehend that this man was real, that he existed.
And that he wanted Caspian.
It wasn’t necessarily perfect; Caspian still felt too youthful in body compared to Michael, and that could not be changed immediately. But in spite of this, Michael still - still - wanted him.
He wanted to say, Take me. Caspian leaned closer, his lips brushing Michael’s.
“Then I’m yours,” he whispered against his mouth, and kissed him deeply, arms winding around Michael’s neck, drawing him down.
He was still nervous, still anxious, but -
But it was Michael. And Caspian had never wanted - needed - anything as badly as he needed Michael at this very moment.
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Posted: Fri Nov 18, 2016 12:52 pm
Michael thought he could feel Caspian's hands tremble as they went to his neck, his face still close to Caspian's for a few moments before pulling back just enough to see his expression. He wasn't entirely sure what he saw, but it seemed to be something akin to relief mixed with numerous other emotions. But it was the relief that startled Michael the most.
He knew Caspian was self conscious, but did he really think that Michael would reject him just because he didn't think he looked older? Michael thought it was pretty darn obvious that he felt some kind of attraction to Caspian, but could understand Caspian's hesitation and concern.
The relief, although it startled him, was good though, and Michael easily leaned closer with Caspian's prompting, relishing in the warm touch of Caspian's hands on his neck and shoulders and face.
Caspian made him feel like he was really wanted, not just physically but emotionally. He wasn't used to it, just as Caspian was the first he'd actually really cared more about making sure he was completely comfortable with everything, as opposed to the interaction being a shallow give and take, blindly being absorbed into the physicality and not the emotions behind it.
Michael didn't care what he got out of this, as long as Caspian felt as wanted and needed as he was to Michael.
While he had no issue with Caspian's appearance, Michael was at least aware of the fact that he was probably almost twice Caspian's weight, and did not want to accidentally crush him. He supported himself with one forearm on the bed, but let his other hand absently explore as he melted against Caspian's lips.
He brushed his hand up and down Caspian's side, pressing his fingertips just firmly enough to feel the lean muscle across his abdomen, and lightly back down to the waistband of the pants he wore, his thumb against the tattoo on his hip again.
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Posted: Fri Nov 18, 2016 1:04 pm
Caspian did not have words for how it felt.
He remembered being sixteen and getting caught in the bathroom kissing Steven Davies. Or being seventeen and Alyssa leading him back to her room after graduation, and how neither one had really felt like anything more than an attempt at normalcy, a rite of passage. How in both cases he had not had any sort of burning desire for his partner, how after they had left him, he had not had any inclination to go after them. There was nothing there except a sort of emptiness.
Caspian did not feel empty now.
He felt on fire, almost, every sense heightened, his nerves fraying at the edges. He felt the lingering anxiousness and insecurity, because he couldn’t stop that completely, not when he was bared so emotionally and so physically in front of the one person for whom it mattered. He felt a powerful, sweeping, almost encompassing need for Michael that had started off as a simple curiosity and had morphed into something he could not have let go of even if he had wanted to. There was need there as well, of several kinds, and desire and affection - and this last one was powerful too.
And he felt something else, something deeper, something he couldn’t quite name just yet, curling in his chest like a sleeping emotion not ready to wake.
Michael’s lips were warm on his, but his body was hot; brushes of skin against skin that made Caspian shiver as Michael kept his weight just above in order not to crush him. The hand that skimmed his sides, then came to a stop on his hip was exploratory, yet gentle, and Caspian shook a little under it, his heartbeat so loud it was almost deafening.
He liked - preferred, really, for a variety of reasons - letting Michael take the lead for this. In spite of Caspian having initiated their first kiss and the kisses after, the importance of Michael doing it now made his head spin; and even then, their kisses had been soft and sweet, nothing like the desperate passion that Michael had exuded in the bathroom, full of heat and emotion. Even now, as Caspian parted his lips against Michael’s, it was tentative, hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure he was doing it right.
His hand slid down Michael’s neck, fingers trailing over his shoulder, and then lower. On the boat, Caspian’s touch had been fleeting, barely skimming, and it was shy now, but not skimming, not light. Caspian’s hand moved over the planes of Michael’s chest and then, tentatively as well, to his ribs where the burn marks were, his fingers fitting there.
There was another wordless question in his gestures.
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Posted: Fri Nov 18, 2016 1:59 pm
Michael felt dazed and overstimulated, the feeling heightened by the heat of the breath shared with each kiss, each touch of Caspian's fingers sending pleasant tremors through him. He said it before and he would say it again; he didn't deserve this. Nothing he had done in his life would have been good enough for him to receive such careful, gentle consideration from someone like Caspian.
A warm, soft hand moved down his neck and over his shoulder as they kissed. Michael would have been happy to continue being distracted by the kisses, but Caspian's touches were purposeful and the warmth drew his attention.
He didn't flinch when Caspian's hand was placed against the scar on his side, but Michael did draw back enough to try and see the expression in his eyes, his own searching and hesitant. There were a lot of things that he was ready for, but didn't know if he could explain himself just yet.
Just as he had on the boat, his eyes and expression were somewhat fearful and lost as he gave a quick shake of his head. He knew Caspian would be curious and concerned. Michael had avoided talking about what happened to him before by making up lies to protect himself and hide his past a little longer, but he knew that one day he would have to explain himself.
He just didn't think he was ready for that now.
But he didn't pull away from the hand against his side. Instead, he leaned close to press his mouth against Caspian's in an almost desperate passion. He was stalling. He wasn't proud of it. Distracting Caspian was better than having to say anything, especially when he wasn't sure what to say.
Knowing how stubborn Caspian was, there was a little more urgency in Michael's touches and kisses now. He shifted to attach his mouth against Caspian's neck, and then to his shoulder and collarbone, his hand at Caspian's hip moving to slip his fingertips underneath the waistband of his pants now, intending to push them down farther to try and get them out of the way.
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Posted: Fri Nov 18, 2016 2:11 pm
He knew it was difficult; that whatever had happened to Michael was something buried deep, something aching and painful that had held him hostage for too long. But he also knew that he could not force Michael to talk about it, not if he wasn’t ready.
The expression on Michael’s face now was an almost frightened one, but it was mixed with other emotions that made Caspian’s heart ache. It was another time when he did not need words to understand what Michael was trying to convey, his fingers fluttering over the burn marks, and the fragility of the moment was palpable.
For one, terrifying moment, Caspian thought that maybe, even with Michael’s inability to speak of his injuries, it would ruin the time now between them - but then Michael was kissing him and it was not soft and sweet, but passionate and intense, stealing away thoughts, breaths, and everything else. Caspian was pushing up to meet him, drowning in the feel of it all, his heartbeat thundering in his ears, his pulse skyrocketing.
Michael’s mouth was on his own, then his neck, more sensitive than he’d thought, Caspian’s breath coming out in little gasps now, ragged and uneven. He’d lost some of his own hesitancy; his hand slid up the warm, smooth expanse of Michael’s back, gripping tightly, his other tangling in the short strands of mahogany hair.
Kisses to his shoulder, his collarbone, his neck; Caspian’s head fell back, trembling all over, breathing staccato. Michael’s fingers were at the waistband of his sweatpants, and he didn’t try to stop him, even if it was intimidating and overwhelming, Caspian’s fingers digging into Michael’s back as he arched up to meet him, his throat working to breathe. He tilted his head, encouraging and allowing more access to his neck, and he couldn’t think except for one word that was on repeat inside of his head.
Michael, Caspian thought dizzily, hazily through the rising heat, desire thick in his veins. Michael, Michael, Michael.
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Posted: Fri Nov 18, 2016 2:45 pm
Everything seemed as though it were spinning, making it hard to breathe and Michael gasped for breath between each kiss he pressed against Caspian's soft skin.
His hand shook as he pushed at the waistband, which wasn't like him at all. He was normally very confident in his own performance, but Caspian was different. Caspian mattered. He couldn't understand it, but he never wanted anyone so badly before. He never wanted someone to feel so incredibly wanted before. He wanted-
"Oh my god!" the shrill, horrified voice came from somewhere much too close, and Michael's head snapped up, his hand hastily pulling Caspian's pants back up onto his hips.
"What the hell??" Peter shrieked, his eyes wide and his face burning red. "Seriously?? At least leave a note!! Or shut the door!!" His hands were over his eyes now, scrubbing hard as if they'd just been burned, and he moved out of sight of the doorway.
Michael's own face had blanched white, having not even realized that the door had been left open, much less had he even heard Peter get home. He untangled himself from Caspian, the intensity gone as if the flame had been dropped into a bucket of ice water.
"You could have called!!" Michael shouted back at his brother, although his voice cracked from the stress of his and Caspian's passionate exchange. His eyes turned towards Caspian, embarrassed and sympathetic because that was not what he'd intended to happen.
"I'm so, so sorry," he groaned leaving enough room for Caspian to get up or hide if he wanted. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry..."
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Posted: Fri Nov 18, 2016 2:55 pm
He could hear Michael's ragged breathing and it matched his own, which made him both thrilled and a little bit lightheaded. Caspian's head had fallen back as Michael kissed his throat, and as his hand tugged at his waistband, Caspian's own fingers dug a little harder into Michael's back, leaving little crescent shaped marks from his nails.
He was dizzy with want, with need. Caspian's hands were trembling with the force of how much he wanted, with the sheer strength of the way he felt towards Michael. Michael, who was kissing him desperately, gasping into his neck and making Caspian shiver and let out soft sounds of his own. Michael, who was treating him so incredibly, with so much care and desire, and Caspian could feel the way Michael's fingers were shaking against his hip and upper leg.
He clung to Michael, a hand in his hair, one roaming up his back, and Caspian was losing himself to this, to Michael, to -
-to the sound of Peter's shrieking voice.
Caspian let out a yelp as Michael snapped back, a sharp, half strangled sound that was partially lost in Peter's horrified screeching. It was like being abruptly dumped into a pool after being in a hot tub, a sensation of icy cold effectively dousing his heated embrace as Caspian scrambled on the bed, almost toppling off of it.
By the time he got his wits about him, Peter had scampered and the warm weight of Michael was gone, Michael beside him instead. Caspian's chest was heaving for breath, his head spinning in circles as he tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to drag himself out of the lingering feeling of Michael's kisses along the skin of his neck and shoulders and collarbone. He lifted a hand and pressed it to his chest, feeling as though he'd just run a mile.
His eyes flickered to Michael's concerned face beside him, listening to the ragged sound of his voice. No, not running. He'd been...kissing Michael.
He'd been kissing Michael Gallo in his bed and had been going to -
Caspian closed his eyes briefly and then opened them again, finding Michael's. He pushed himself slowly up into a sitting position, taking deep breaths that did not really help the way his heart was still clambering for more.
"I'm...okay," he said, his own voice coming out hoarser than he'd thought. His cheeks were flushed scarlet, Caspian lifting a hand to run it through his messy hair before he dropped it again. "Well...I guess Peter knows," he added in a low grumble.
His gaze flickered to Michael's face, Caspian worrying at his lower lip with his teeth again. He swallowed hard and said, after a moment's hesitation,
"...are you okay?"
He sounded uncertain, wary; as though half expecting Michael to want to back off from now on and change his mind. Maybe after Peter's interruption, Michael would reevaluate.
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Posted: Fri Nov 18, 2016 5:45 pm
The only thing Michael was reevaluating was whether or not Peter would continue to live with him. Sure, it was good to be able to keep an eye on his youngest brother, and he knew Peter liked being able to keep an eye on him in return, but if Peter was going to keep interrupting him and Caspian, he was going to have to move out.
Michael lifted his hand to rub at his chest, as though trying to calm his heart from pounding. He sat in the edge of the bed, frowning as Caspian sat up to join him. Well, that could have gone better. And now the moment was gone and Peter was home and as much as he wanted to kick Peter out, he knew that probably wasn't the best course of action.
Peter would probably find something to blackmail him with if he tried.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he grumbled to himself, letting out an exasperated sigh as he could still hear Peter fussing about who knew what from the living room. He was more frustrated than angry or embarrassed. He could still feel Caspian's heated skin on his fingertips, his lips on his own, his body against Caspian's...
Michael drew in a breath and let it out. He lifted his hand to reach over and and placed it on top of Caspian's thigh, giving it a hopefully comforting, apologetic squeeze. Caspian was biting at his lip again, and Michael knew he must be feeling a bit nervous or uncertain or hesitant about something.
He leaned closer to press a lingering kiss against Caspian's forehead as he looked up at him.
"I don't suppose you want to stay tonight anymore, huh?" he mumbled against Caspian's hair, his voice a little resigned and still a bit breathless. He wouldn't blame him if he didn't want to stay, especially since Peter was home and they probably shouldn’t try what they were... going to try, again. At least not right away.
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Posted: Fri Nov 18, 2016 6:03 pm
He managed not to jolt as Michael’s hand came to rest on his thigh, though Caspian felt like he could feel those fingers against his skin, not just the fabric of the sweatpants. That same hand had been tugging his clothes off not five minutes ago, and Caspian’s cheeks were still red at the memory, at the taste of Michael’s kiss on his lips.
He reached out a hand and curled it around Michael’s, his eyes fluttering at the kiss to his forehead. It felt warm and sweet - and a relief, because Michael clearly wasn’t about to walk away, not when he was nosing into Caspian’s hair, leaning closer to him like he wanted to stay near. And his voice was still a little hoarse - which, Caspian found, made it slightly difficult to concentrate, because he liked that roughened tone a little too much.
Caspian tilted his head up, found Michael’s mouth and kissed him, a hand on the back of his head, curling into his hair. It was, like the one to his forehead, a lingering kiss, except it was warmer and hesitantly deeper, but short before he pulled back, resting his forehead against Michael’s.
“I want to stay with you,” he said quietly. “I mean...just...with you.”
His cheeks burned a little, Caspian growing more aware of the fact that he was, in fact, not wearing a shirt and neither was Michael. It was extremely hard to tear his gaze away from the planes of Michael’s chest, of the muscles in his abdomen, Caspian jerking his head to the side but leaning forward to lay his forehead on Michael’s shoulder.
“What are we going to tell Peter?” he mumbled. “D’you think he’ll tell the rest of your family?”
He did not ask the question he wanted to, which was:
Do you think they’ll care I’m so much younger than you are?
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Posted: Fri Nov 18, 2016 6:36 pm
Michael shifted his thumb so he could brush it against the Caspian’s hand that was now resting over his, and leaned into the kiss, very much learning to enjoy whenever Caspian puts his hand into his hair. It was soothing.
“I know. Me too,” he breathed softly in response, very much wanting to stay with just Caspian, too. He supposed he could kick Peter out, but it was bad enough that he’d already disappeared and left him on his own. Peter was bound to tell their parents something if he feels like he was mistreated.
As Caspian laid his forehead against Michael’s arm, he grimaced and shook his head lightly in regards to the comment about his brother. “I’ll deal with Peter,” he promised, giving Caspian’s leg another small squeeze in comfort. “He won’t tell. I might have to buy him off, but he won’t tell. Not until you’re ready,” he explained, sounding very much like he spoke from experience.
He relaxed a little with the close proximity he had to Caspian, still feeling like he was having trouble catching his breath. Michael just wished there was a better way to calm Caspian down, because he was sure he was still rather embarrassed.
“I’m not ashamed of you, you know,” he said softly, leaning his head down to kiss the top of Caspian’s head as he rested against his shoulder. “Just in case you thought I was. I don’t mind people knowing about us, but I want you to be comfortable before… anything else, okay?”
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Posted: Fri Nov 18, 2016 6:59 pm
It was a relief that Michael wanted him to stay, and a palpable one at that, a small shiver chasing its way up and down Caspian’s spine. He took a deep breath and let it out again, ghosting across the warm skin of Michael’s shoulder, and shifted his head a little to make himself more comfortable.
“Good,” he mumbled. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of Michael; in fact, Caspian had a peculiar - and stupid - urge to go and shout it to the world, as a matter of fact. But he also had another, quieter, more realistic urge to keep it to themselves, because it was no one’s business, and most of all...most of all because he did not want anyone telling Michael that he was too old for Caspian or vice versa.
He did not want Michael to feel more pressured than he probably already did.
Caspian slid his free hand up and let it rest against Michael’s waist; a tentative, hesitant gesture, as though he was still learning what was okay, even if, five minutes ago, they’d been tangled together on the bed - a thought that still made him breathless with wonder and warmth.
He kissed me, Caspian thought dazedly. He kissed me and said that he wanted me and…
And more, of course, more thoughts that made his cheeks heat. Caspian felt Michael’s lips in his hair and burrowed a little closer, pressing his face into the crook of his neck.
I’m not ashamed of you.
The soft, gentle words made Caspian catch his breath sharply, an audible sound that was staccato in his throat, slightly muffled against Michael’s shoulder. He swallowed hard and forced himself to lean back to look at Michael, his expression still a little anxious, but now mostly a hesitant hope.
“Do you really not care at all that I’m ten years younger?” Caspian asked quietly, and his voice was surprisingly steady, even if it was still a little hoarse. “I don’t want people to look at us and think…”
He trailed off, glancing away, his fingers curling a little more tightly on Michael’s.
“...I don’t care,” he said, after a moment. “I never have. Even when I just wanted to be friends, I never thought you being older would be a factor for me, but I thought that it would be for you. And then I started...liking you…” Caspian’s cheeks flushed a little more. “And suddenly it was just...so obvious that you’re older than I am and I’m…”
He gestured, somewhat limply, at his youthful frame, ending in a soft, slightly bitter laugh that caught in his throat.
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