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Posted: Sat Oct 28, 2017 6:22 am
His face still felt hot and his eyes were still stinging, but at least he was resolute about this - and at least he hadn't quite cried yet, though it was a close thing. Caspian was also still staring at the carpeted floor, because it was easier to look at that than to look at Michael at the present moment.
"I know," he said wearily, exhaling a pained breath. "I know, Michael. Things don't change overnight, and I don't expect them to. I - " His breath caught, voice breaking, just a little, and Caspian took another breath to steady himself. "I know you mostly work on instinct and gut reactions, and that's not...that's not a bad thing, because I know your first thought is generally to keep me safe."
And he did know that. Everything Michael did, controlling or dominating or otherwise, was almost universally for Caspian's sake. He couldn't have tried to deny that, even if he'd wanted to, which he didn't. And he knew how much the name Riley meant, how painful and how raw it was to even just say it aloud, to acknowledge it, Caspian's head lifting a fraction.
After a moment, he said quietly, "I'll work with you if you work with me. It's a two way street, and I..."
His voice wavered again. Caspian finally let himself look up, his watery gaze meeting Michael's, his heart a painful thing in his throat.
"I don't want you to experience that either."
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Posted: Sat Oct 28, 2017 7:45 am
Caspian had been the only person he’d talked to about what happened. And even then he gave the briefest explanation. The fewest details he could manage. It was all in the past, or so he told himself. There certainly wasn’t anything he could do about it now. Well, that wasn’t true, but he wasn’t willing to discuss that with anyone, especially someone he didn’t know. So he avoided it and pretended that it was nothing. Because it was nothing.
“And don’t stop like that again,” he requested, his voice more desperate than scolding. “Or I’ll throw you over my shoulder again. Did I hurt you?” he asked, frowning because he knew it was very possible. Healing or not, he should have been more careful with Caspian’s injuries. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He knew it was possible when he picked him up, but that wasn’t the intention.
“I’ll work with you, but I’m not as stubborn as you are. You’re the one who will most likely have to work with me, you know,” he reminded his husband, still leaning against the wall of the bathroom. He felt guilty for blowing up, for obviously hurting Caspian, even if it wasn’t physically.
Tentatively he lifted one of his hands to hold out to Caspian, although he wouldn’t blame him if he was still upset about Michael warning him not to touch him, and thus not want to reach out in return.
“I’m sorry, Cas. I’m trying.”
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Posted: Sat Oct 28, 2017 4:49 pm
He gave a nod, because his throat felt a little too tight to speak. Caspian was watching Michael's face, knowing how badly he felt - and knowing, only too well, just how badly he felt himself. This had not been how he had wanted the night to end. This had not been how he wanted the night to go at all.
"You didn't hurt me," he said, which was true. Caspian was used to being manhandled by people significantly larger than himself, and Michael was one of them. "I'm fine."
Physically, mostly. Mentally and emotionally, it was a different story. Caspian let out a small breath that hurt his throat, pained his chest, which gave a small twinge as though reminding himself of his physical limitations. He wasn't an invalid - far from it - but it wasn't as though one could get run through with a sword and then expect everything to be fine and dandy afterwards.
It was a slow and steady process. He needed to remind himself of that.
"I'll work with you, if you work with me," said Caspian quietly. He let his gaze fall on Michael's outstretched arms, then lifted it back up to his face, wanting, with a desperation borne out of love and need, to step into them and let himself be surrounded by Michael's warmth.
But -
"I'm sorry I called you a jackass," said Caspian. "I am. And I'm sorry I didn't see that you were upset, I wasn't...I wasn't dismissing or invalidating your feelings."
He didn't step forward, not just yet, because he had to ask, even though it was like razors against his skin, voice very small and very sad. "Did you...did you really think I was going to actually...hit you..?"
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Posted: Sat Oct 28, 2017 5:51 pm
As Caspian stepped forward, Michael didn’t pull him closer, but instead lifted one of his hands to smooth his fingers through his husband’s dark hair, watching as it fell and fluttered to rest just over his shoulders. His other hand settled on Caspian’s waist, waiting for him to make that final step forward but not trying to rush him. After all, Michael had been kind of a jerk about the whole touching thing.
“It’s okay,” he said as he looked down at Caspian, feeling as though this was at least better than continuing to yell at each other. Things weren’t perfect, and Michael never expected them to be, but being able to work these things out was what would make them stronger.
The question made him hesitate, if only because he did want to say that he didn’t think that, but it wouldn’t have been the first time Caspian fell back on physical means to release his aggression. It might be easier to just say ‘no’. It might make Caspian feel better if he told him he didn’t really think that, but that wouldn’t help them move forward.
“I wasn’t sure. I thought that you might. Maybe not hit me, but you were angry and upset, so… I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t,” he said as he smoothed his hand over Caspian’s hair, and then the back of his knuckles over his cheek, and Michael knew he himself was looking just as guilty as he felt. If he’d pushed Caspian that far, then surely he was partially to blame, wasn’t he?
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Posted: Sat Oct 28, 2017 7:39 pm
He could have melted against the touch of Michael's hand, sliding through his hair. Not pulling. Not pushing. Not trying to get him to move closer yet, but waiting, patiently, for Caspian to come on his own terms. It was a concession, Caspian knew; and it was also purely Michael, because underneath the surly stubbornness was a warmth and a patience and a kindness that was almost unseen by anyone else, but that Caspian knew all too well.
He looked up, his face still flushed, eyes still a little bright, but not as bright as they had been before, some of the urge to cry a little abated.
The touch of Michael's knuckles; the sheer tenderness of that movement, of that simple gesture, seared through Caspian's heart like a lance, so achingly perfect and so wonderfully sweet that it almost made him want to cry all over again, except for a different reason this time.
"I would never - " The words caught in his throat. Caspian sucked in a painful breath.
"I would never...hurt you," he said, barely above a whisper, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from Michael's.
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Posted: Sat Oct 28, 2017 8:01 pm
In spite of Caspian’s desire not to be treated like a child, there was no denying that Caspian was young. He was still growing, still learning about himself as a person, still figuring things out. There were plenty of things that Michael wished he hadn’t done when he was younger, or even things he had done.
So while the memory of the night he’d returned from trying to run away, and trying to push Caspian away, and Caspian reacting in probably the only way he thought he could to get Michael’s attention was still embedded into his memory, and the reason for his immediate reaction to Caspian’s jabbing a finger at him earlier, he knew Caspian meant it when he said he wouldn’t hurt him.
“I know,” he relented, because while a one time thing was still a thing that happened, they could only move forward, and Michael would trust Caspian’s word.
“I’m sorry I was in a bad mood even before things happened,” he said, although any time his gut said that something was going to happen, he was going to be in a bad mood. “Go on. Aren’t you cold? You can shower first if you want,” Michael said as he lowered his hand from Caspian’s face to rest lightly against his neck, his fingers massaging at his shoulder to try and release any pent up tension Caspian might be feeling. “Or you might feel better taking a bath.”
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Posted: Sat Oct 28, 2017 8:43 pm
He'd almost forgotten that he'd kneed Michael in the groin - but that had been after Michael deliberately had hurt him. Had deliberately pushed the knife in where it had hurt, because he'd been trying to push Caspian away from him, and Caspian had responded in the single most effective way to stop someone from walking away from him.
But he hadn't done anything like that since. And it had, after all, been a well deserved kneeing, even if Caspian wasn't going to do anything more than that ever again. He flushed a little, because that was likely what Michael had assumed he was going to do this time.
He wasn't. Talking was more important, for both of them.
The hand on his face had moved to his neck, then lower, gently massaging. Caspian loved those hands, how tender they could be, how loving, how strong. Hands that he had held and kissed, hands that he had felt clutching his own whenever he needed them.
He stepped forward, just a single step.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Caspian said quietly. His hands rose, coming to rest on Michael's bare waist, a light touch, but his eyes remained on Michael's, starting to brighten a little more, his expression taking on a new quality, one that was still serious, but that held a note of something else in it as well.
Caspian took another step, one that would force Michael to take a step back into the bathroom as he came closer, steadily invading his space, hands on his waist moving lower to his hips instead now.
His eyes were fever bright, half lidded.
"Michael."
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Posted: Sat Oct 28, 2017 9:02 pm
The flush to Caspian’s cheeks made it obvious that he was reminded of the time before. And no, it wasn’t well deserved, thank you very much. It had been painful and Caspian was lucky Michael was able to reign in his temper without retaliation against him, because it could have been a horrible evening. But that was in the past, and Michael was willing to forgive and forget.
He felt the light touch to his waist, and Michael looked down to see the pale skin of Caspian’s hands against his own somewhat darker skin. There was a distinct contrast not just with their coloring, but the smoothness of Caspian’s skin compared to the burn scars that stretched up his left side. Occasionally someone would be curious about it and he would lie and say he got into a motorcycle accident. It was easier than the truth.
As Caspian stepped forward, Michael took a step back, his eyes shining with both amusement and exasperation. “I thought I said we weren’t going to turn this into a sexual tension resolution thing. Besides, you’re still injured,” he said, knowingly.
He could read the look in Caspian’s eyes as hands moved lower over his hips, over another scar on his right side that he also avoided discussion about. Motorcyle accident.
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Posted: Sat Oct 28, 2017 9:47 pm
He didn't say anything, just took another step forward towards Michael; a dance of sorts, every step forward a step back for Michael, until they were fully in the bathroom now. Caspian's eyes remained locked on his husband's, eyes still bright with a mixture of emotions.
They hadn't done much since the spring - well, they'd done a lot of things, but not a lot of things. And besides, this wasn't about the tension, either, it was about himself and Michael. His husband. The man who, in spite of driving him crazy sometimes, was the only person in the world who understood him, even when that understanding was sometimes over with a desperate desire to control the situations to protect him.
He still said nothing. Caspian slid closer, until he was barely a step away, lashes low over his feverish eyes. A hand slipped downwards, coming to rest on the curve of Michael's backside, and Caspian looked up at Michael, lips slightly parted.
There were no words. He just waited.
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Posted: Sat Oct 28, 2017 10:00 pm
Michael took another step back as Caspian stepped forward, his hands now both on Caspian’s shoulders, but they rested lightly, his fingers smoothing along his shoulders and neck. Ever since Caspian had almost died, Michael had been extremely careful not to do anything that could harm Caspian. They’d gone to the hospital that night knowing the likelihood of Caspian even surviving was slim, and left married. They hadn’t wanted to waste more time. They both wanted to be married before it was too late.
They’d been extremely lucky that Caspian pulled through, but there was always a chance that something else might happen. Like with the spiders that evening. Michael didn’t want to risk it. It wasn’t worth it.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, but his voice was soft, his hands smoothing up Caspian’s neck, tilting his head back just enough so he could lean down to press a kiss to his lips.
“You can be such a brat you know,” he mumbled with a small shake of his head, fingers brushing through Caspian’s black and multicolored hair. “But I love you regardless.”
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Posted: Sat Oct 28, 2017 10:26 pm
"Look at you like what?" Caspian murmured, not moving an inch away from his husband. Michael was doing that thing again where he was trying to pretend that he didn't understand what Caspian was doing, except that he understood completely what he was doing.
It was kind of cute.
It was very, very Michael.
Large, warm hands slid to his neck, fingers against his throat. He felt Michael's lips press against his own, familiar and much needed and not nearly enough, Caspian's eyes fluttering at the sensation. When he opened them again, it was only halfway, long lashes curling low over his cheeks.
He needed Michael, not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, romantically. Every part of him needed every part of Michael; the good, the bad, the frustrating, the agonizing, the beauty. Everything that was right in front of him, and everything that was his.
The hand on Michael's backside grew a little firmer, a little more deliberate. Caspian pressed himself up against his husband, looking up at him.
"What are you gonna do about it?" he said softly, barely above a whisper.
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Posted: Sun Oct 29, 2017 5:30 pm
Oh, Michael definitely knew what Caspian was doing. He knew Caspian quite well. How he worked. A lot of how he thought. The only discrepancy came when there was danger involved.
The hands on his backside wasn’t easily ignored either, although he did his best not to pay Caspian any attention because it would just fuel the fire.
“I think,” Michael said, his hands still smoothing against Caspian’s neck and shoulders. “I’m going to help you out of your clothes.” He paused so he could lean down to press another quick kiss to his husband’s lips. “And then I’m going to turn on the water for the tub so you can bathe, and I’ll make you some hot tea, and then I’ll shower, and we’ll both go to sleep.”
Not exactly what Caspian had in mind, he was sure, but he wasn’t going to risk hurting him when they weren’t sure how much longer it would take to be completely healed.
There was one more quick peck to Caspian's lips, and then Michael straightened so he could pull himself out of his husband's grasp, grabbing a towel for him on the way to the tub.
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Posted: Sun Oct 29, 2017 5:53 pm
For a moment, all he could feel was Michael's hands, warm and solid against him, reminding him of everything he loved, everything he wanted. Gentleness and calmness and a reassurance that, in spite of the fights and in spite of the frustrations and the misunderstandings, they were still them.
And then Michael had to go and open his mouth and the moment was gone.
Caspian spluttered wordlessly for a moment as Michael extricated himself from his grasp, feeling the loss, mouth dropping open in an expression of dramatic outrage. He reached out and snagged the towel in Michael's hands, tugging on it - either to get it away from him or to pull him back was really very questionable.
"You - "
He was still sort of spluttering. Caspian felt a flutter of happiness in his stomach.
"I can't believe you. I'm literally throwing myself at you and all but begging for you, and all you want to do is give me tea and sleepy times?"
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Posted: Sun Oct 29, 2017 6:06 pm
He was trying not to react to Caspian’s sputtering, because he knew he must be disappointed. Michael was disappointed that he wasn’t just going along with it, because while he would love to do more with Caspian, he was still healing and needed to rest and there was more to their relationship than just the physical. Even if he knew that Caspian needed it just as much as he did.
“Really? You can’t believe me?” Michael frowned, although his lips twitched in the corners, because a flushed, sputtering Caspian was kind of cute. He released his hold on the towel when Caspian pulled on it, and finished making his way to the tub to turn on the tap. It was separate from the shower and wasn’t often used. Well, in recent months it was used a lot more than not because it was easier for Caspian.
“Does that bother you? That you throwing yourself at me isn’t working?” he asked, because he didn’t want to be neglectful or anything like that… but Caspian was still injured. Maybe. Probably.
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Posted: Sun Oct 29, 2017 6:26 pm
He knew perfectly well that there was more to their relationship than the physical - and so did Michael, and if Michael hadn't ever been interested in the physical at all, Caspian would still have loved him and still stayed with him. But they were both interested in the physical, and it had been a really long time.
A really...really long time.
Caspian stumbled, just a little, as the towel was released, lifting it to loop around his neck for safekeeping as Michael fiddled with the shower. The sound of running water gushing out came a second later, heat beginning to slowly rise, and he padded over to the bathtub, peering suspiciously up at Michael.
"It bothers me that I think you think I'm still convalescent enough not to do anything," Caspian said dryly, but it was said with a certain amount of affection this time, rather than anger or frustration. "I'm standing here, while you're in your boxers, trying to get into your pants, and you're as immovable as a stone."
He gave a theatrical sigh. "Jeez. I'l just have to turn up my game or something."
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