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 Posted: Sat Jul 16, 2016 8:57 pm
He wasn't sure if it was because he was already exhausted, or if it was because he felt so comfortable and warm with Caspian curled up against him, but Michael didn't think he'd slept so soundly in a long time. Even with the pain from his injuries that he could feel as he slowly started to wake, he didn't think he wanted to move.
Other than the fact that he was comfortably warm, he could feel something light and soft against his face. He slowly opened his eyes to the sight of black hair, revealing the bright purple and blue as the strands fell out of place. Michael breathed in deeply, the lingering scent of shampoo waking his sense a little more, his face practically buried in Caspian's hair.
He became more aware that at some point in the night, he'd moved his arm from between himself and Caspian to have it draped over Caspian's waist. Hopefully the weight hadn't been too uncomfortable, and he shifted his arm down to rest against Caspian's hip instead.
There was no indication of what time it was. It could have been early or late, but at the moment he couldn't be bothered to care. All he wanted was to lay there a bit longer.
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Posted: Sat Jul 16, 2016 9:42 pm
He dreamed, mostly, of warmth.
It was an abstract feeling, not so much pictures as it was just a sensation, a feeling. It made for a very pleasant, very satisfying sleep, even if he did not really dream of anything else.
Caspian was a heavy sleeper in general, and he slept deeply now, his breathing slow, deep and even, his long lashes fluttering a little against his cheeks. Sometime during the night, he’d let go of Michael’s shirt, but his arms were bent, cradled between his chest and Michael’s, his head ducked under his chin, face nestled somewhere in the vicinity of Michael’s collarbone.
There was a warm, heavy weight around his waist, which moved lower, and Caspian shifted in his sleep, nose brushing against Michael’s skin. He was extremely comfortable, burrowing snugly against Michael as though seeking him out.
If he’d been awake, he might have been nervous he was pushing limits again, flustered and red faced, his heart beating erratically in his chest. As it was, Caspian looked entirely content, his smaller frame fitting perfectly within the circle of Michael’s arms.
He didn’t wake up just yet.
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Posted: Sat Jul 16, 2016 10:13 pm
There were a lot of things Michael never would have expected to happen in his life. One would be how disillusioned he became about being in the Navy, after it had been his dream since he was a small child. Another would be the fact that he was a knight. Not only himself, but his brothers and others that he knew as well.
And then there was the fact that he had just woken up in the bed of someone he hadn’t met at a bar the night before, the same someone who he’d fallen asleep with two times prior, and, from what he could tell, was all completely platonic.
That final thought prompted a whole string of strange emotions in him. Shouldn’t he be glad that Caspian thought of him as a friend? Not just a friend, but someone he trusted enough to open himself up to and be as close as he currently was? Well, Caspian was a physical kind of person, who always liked physical contact, so there was nothing out of the ordinary with that. Then why did he feel kind of disappointed that it was entirely platonic? He was surprisingly okay with calling Caspian his friend. But friends also didn’t just… snuggle this close and feel this warm and prompt all these different emotions. No no, Caspian wasn’t snuggling, he just liked the physical contact. That was all. There was nothing more than just… being friendly. Which was frustrating. But he had no reason as to why it was frustrating, and that was entirely unfair to Caspian to think that way.
And Caspian looked so content and warm and comfortable that Michael couldn’t help but lay there with his arms around him and realizing how little control he had over his life. Maybe he was going through a quarter-life crisis.
Michael breathed out, the black hair under his chin fluttering as he did so. He shifted the hand he had on Caspian’s him, absently brushing his fingers along his side now that he was much more awake than just a few minutes ago, and trying not to think about how he had no idea what he was doing and just wanted - … he didn’t know what he wanted. But as comfortable as he was, it was also very much uncomfortable.
Just as absently as he brushed his fingers on Caspian’s side, his hand found the edge of Caspian’s shirt that had ridden up a little in his sleep. Enchanted by the feel of Caspian’s warm, soft skin beneath his fingers, he pushed the shirt up a little more as he slid his hand slowly up and down his side.
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Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2016 10:12 am
Slowly, as though time had decided to move sluggishly within the confines of the house, Caspian began to wake.
It came in stages as he was pulled from the depths of a very deep, comforting sleep, like rising from the bottom of the ocean to the top. Light began to permeate through his closed eyes, so that he became more aware of himself, and the fact that he was no longer dreaming of whatever it was that he had been dreaming of. The muffled sounds of birds outside and the faint hum of a car engine indicated that it was at least time for some people to be awake.
And he was aware of other things, as well. An overwhelming warmth, and the scent of cedar and citrus, of clean soap and the sensation of being wrapped in a cozy nest.
Something else, as well, became more present in Caspian’s mind. A gentle roughness against his skin, soft, soothing gestures that were both reassuring and sent tingles wherever they touched.
It came back to him in a rush of memories and shadows and moonlight.
Michael. He was with Michael. They’d patrolled the night before, he’d taken Michael back to the house to tend to his injuries. Michael had...had some emotional issues. Caspian had comforted him, and now…
And now they were in his bed, and Michael’s hand was on his side, warm heavy and simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar as it ran up his side under his shirt.
His heart seemed to want to explode inside of his chest. Caspian’s eyes slowly opened, his pulse so fast he thought he might faint then and there and make a fool of himself. Slowly, he stirred, shifting a little, and one hand slid up, fingers resting on Michael’s upper arm; not stopping him, but simply staying there as Caspian lifted his sleep-heavy gaze to meet Michael’s. His face was flushed a deep, heavy pink, the blush deeper than it had been in a long time.
He did not jerk away, his chest feeling absurdly tight.
“...good morning,” he said, very softly and shyly.
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Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2016 12:10 pm
Michael frowned to himself as he thought about how absurd this all was. He had no idea what was wrong with himself, or why he’d broken down the way he did the night before, which was really only hours ago, and how embarrassing that was, and how Caspian probably thought he was just as much of a loser as he thought himself.
He didn’t realize Caspian was stirring until he felt his hand on his arm, half way through scowling at himself for being so unsure of himself. His expression was quick to lighten as he glanced down at Caspian as he looked up, those deep blue eyes still half asleep, and his face concerningly red.
“Are you not feeling well?” he asked in response, frowning in concern as his hand under Caspian’s shirt distractedly traced the line of his spine down to his lower back, stopped only where his hand hit the waistband of his sweatpants, and then back up to his shoulders, effectively pushing Caspian’s shirt up even more. But it wasn’t like they weren’t still under the sheets, so.
“Your face is all red…” he explained after a moment.
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Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2016 12:22 pm
Was he not feeling well? He couldn’t tell at the moment, all of his attention focused solely on the feel of Michael’s hand against his skin. Caspian’s breath audibly caught in his throat, his lashes fluttering, and unconsciously the hand on Michael’s arm tightened a little
He wanted -
What on earth did he want?
He knew the answer to that question. He wanted to keep feeling this, wanted to keep this sensation imprinted in his mind for as long as he could, and the very thought of it terrified him. It was a warm, tingling...extremely pleasant feeling; Michael’s hand was a little rough from years in the Navy and working on a boat, but the movements were gentle, intimate in a way that Caspian had not felt in a very long time.
Or ever. Ever was better, because no one in the past had treated him the way Michael did. No one in the past had Michael’s personality, his expressions, his strong jawline, tinged faintly with stubble, his bright blue eyes that seemed to see straight through Caspian.
This was...very, very dangerous.
“I’m…” He swallowed hard, his eyes half-lidded, and Caspian was still a little hazy from sleep, but all too aware of what was happening. “Fine.”
Maybe. Mostly.
Did you sleep well was the question he meant to ask. Instead, Caspian felt frozen in place, his heartbeat erratic and unsteady, his eyes fixed on Michael’s as though he couldn’t quite bring himself to look away.
Do you even know how you make me feel?
“Tired,” Caspian forced out. “Just...tired. Maybe...a little feverish, but I’m - I’m fine.”
Why was breathing so hard? Why was thinking so hard?
“I slept well,” he said. “Did...did you?”
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Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2016 12:24 pm
Michael’s gaze grew more concerned the more that Caspian spoke. He’d just woken up and it seemed as though he was having trouble breathing, his face was red, he’d even admitted to feeling a little feverish.
Maybe one of Caspian’s wounds from the previous night was infected? The area around the bandage on his face didn’t seem inflamed, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t infected. Or maybe his hand? Michael hadn’t been the one to clean and bandage his hand. Maybe Caspian was in a rush and didn’t take the time to clean it properly.
Carefully, he pulled his hand away from where it rested against Caspian’s back and then reached up to brush the bangs across Caspian’s forehead out of the way. He turned his hand over, using the back of it to press against Caspian’s forehead, frowning at the heat that permeated from his skin.
“You are a little hot,” he frowned, feeling guilty that Caspian probably didn’t get that great of a night’s sleep with him in the bed too, despite what he said about sleeping well. He turned his hand back around, brushed the still loose strands of Caspian’s hair out of his face, and used his palm to gently press against his cheek, knowing it was at least a little bit cooler than Caspian’s face at the moment.
“You should take some medicine,” he suggested, and then shook his head, not wanting Caspian to worry about him. “I probably slept better than you,” he admitted with a small grimace. “I’m sorry… I kind of took up the whole bed.” Now that it was light out, it was very obvious that Caspian was much closer to the edge of the bed than he thought he was.
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Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2016 12:31 pm
The loss of Michael’s hand from his back was both a relief and a disappointment all rolled into one. Caspian felt a small smile tugging at his lips as the same hand moved to check his forehead, the fingers gentle as they swept hair out of his face in a tender, careful gesture.
He wanted to both laugh and cry at the same time and he had no idea why. Maybe because he knew, no matter what silly feelings he was feeling, Michael was still ten years older than he was and probably had no inclinations, no...anything, towards someone like Caspian, who was simply the person he mentored. Well, and...more, he knew this, even if it was taking a while to get there. Michael was a friend, a good friend. A best friend, if Caspian was being honest with himself, though he was almost afraid of voicing it aloud for fear that Michael would find it too much.
A small, slightly rasping laugh escaped him, and Caspian’s eyes fell shut as Michael’s hand pressed against his cheek.
“That’s what all the Jupiter knights say when they wake up with me,” he said, voice low and lightly teasing. Caspian lifted his own hand, fingers sliding over Michael’s on his cheek, and he covered it with his own, keeping it there.
He had a terrible, horrible urge to do something stupid, like snuggle closer or say something that was too much. Caspian exhaled a shakey breath.
“I don’t mind,” he said softly. “Really. I don’t mind at all. I, um. It was nice. You being here. I’m...okay with it. I slept well, I promise.”
His face was still hot. Maybe he was getting sick after all.
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Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2016 12:45 pm
Michael could not resist the urge to roll his eyes at the comment about Jupiter knights waking up with him. “Ha ha,” he said with obvious sarcasm, shifting enough so he could dislodge his other arm, and lifted his other hand to join the first, gently squishing Caspian’s cheeks together.
“That’s my brother you’re talking about,” he half joked back. He knew very well that there were other Jupiter knights out there, but they were few and far between. He only ever recalled seeing a couple others, but not long enough to know their names.
He kept his hands there, hoping to absorb some of the heat from Caspian’s cheeks as he laid mostly on his side, only propped up enough to keep his hands on Caspian’s face. Compared to how he remembered the feel of Caspian’s hands against his own face, and his on Caspian’s, it was even more obvious how young he was.
Maybe he was doing too much. He didn’t want Caspian to feel like he had to do anything he didn’t want to.
Although he kept the first hand on Caspian’s cheek, now that he’d placed his own hand over Michael’s, he pushed himself up a little more, using the hand on Caspian’s face to prompt him to lay more onto his back as Michael sat up some more. He kicked back some of the sheets so he was no longer tangled in them, before slowly and carefully moving so that he could kneel up onto the bed. He lifted his leg then, hand still on Caspian’s face, and shifted it to kneel over him for just a moment, before finding the edge of the bed and setting his foot on the ground.
His other leg joined the first soon after, and he slowly pulled his hand away from Caspian’s face so he could lift both arms in a stretch, knocking the mobile of stars as he did so, and wincing that he’d hit it.
“Sorry,” he quickly said, before turning back to Caspian. “You should probably eat something. Did you even have dinner before patrol last night?”
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Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2016 1:23 pm
He’d forgotten that Michael’s brother was also a Jupiter knight, and smiled as Michael’s hands pressed on his cheeks, a flush of pleasure heating them. “Don’t worry,” Caspian deadpanned, “I’m only stubborn with one of them.”
He lapsed into silence once more, simply letting himself indulge in the feel of those warm fingers against his face. But Michael was shifting, pushing him down, and Caspian found himself on his back instead of his side, staring up at Michael with wide blue eyes.
He was, for that fraction of a moment in which Michael knelt above him, completely and utterly breathless.
Lips parted, eyes staring, Caspian could not have said something if he’d been forced to. His heart was pounding so hard inside of his chest it was almost painful, and every inch of him was frozen in place, fingers starting to tremble ever so slightly where they still lay resting against Michael’s.
And then the moment was gone. Michael had moved off of the bed, stretching, and Caspian half followed, hazily pushing up on one elbow as Michael’s fingers fell away.
He felt caught off guard, knocked off balance. The blankets were tangled around Caspian’s waist, his shirt twisted slightly awkwardly, as it hadn’t shifted when he had and was half caught beneath him. His hair was messy, falling around his pale cheeks as he tried to get his bearings once more.
He realized, belatedly, that Michael had asked him a question.
“Um,” said Caspian, swallowing hard. “I had a poptart.”
He thought he had, at least. Thinking was sort of hard at the moment.
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Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2016 1:31 pm
“You and your poptarts,” Michael shook his head, looking around the room now that it was light out, seeing how the sun cast the room into different colors. It was still a warm, comfortable room, and Michael was glad he got to experience how it looked in both the light and the dark.
Turned away from Caspian, he couldn’t help but stare, first in surprise, when he saw the sweatshirt that was once his, draped over the back of Caspian’s desk chair, but it soon shifted into a small smile. He wondered if Caspian was even using it, or if he just liked having it there. Michael made no motion to try and take it back, but instead turned back to where Caspian was getting off the bed.
“Well, if you have any food in the house, I can make something. Unless you just feel like something bland, like… toast… do you even have any bread?” he wondered, feeling somewhat concerned, again, over the fact that Caspian apparently only ever ate poptarts.
“Or, I guess, I can go out and get something from the store and bring it back,” he offered, trying to think of their options. “You probably shouldn’t leave the house if you’re not feeling well, otherwise I’d suggest we just go somewhere.”
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Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2016 1:45 pm
”Poptarts are food of the gods,” said Caspian vaguely, distracted by Michael’s eyes catching on the sweatshirt that was currently draped over his desk chair. He had a sudden, fleeting urge to get up and hastily stuff it away, hide it under the bed, but it was too late. Caspian sat up a little more, swinging his legs slowly over the side of the bed and wondering whether Michael would think it weird - or maybe even want to have it back.
Except he didn’t. He turned away from it, and Caspian felt a strange sense of relief in the pit of his stomach.
“There’s...there’s food,” he said, running a hand through his sleep tousled hair. “Um. I don’t cook much, but there’s food anyway. I like sandwiches, so there’s bread for toast, and there should be some eggs or bacon or something, we try to get something other than Pop Rocks and ice cream at least two days a week.”
He glanced up at Michael, the flush to Caspian’s cheeks not yet abated.
“Do you, um...want help?”
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Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2016 2:03 pm
“Does that make you a god now, your majesty?” he let out a small laugh and shook his head, still glancing around at everything in Caspian’s room, wanting to commit whatever he could to memory. He wondered if that was weird, that he was honestly interested in how Caspian lived his life. He supposed it wasn’t any weirder that he was a good ten years older than Caspian, and yet he just spent another night with him. Completely, hopelessly, platonic.
Michael frowned, lips pursed together slightly, as he considered the options, lifting his arms to cross over his chest for a few moments, as if to show just how serious he was being. There was an amused gleam in his eye as he took a step towards the door.
“Nope, I don’t want help,” he said, although he didn’t leave Caspian with that for too long. “You’re going to cook, and I’ll supervise,” he informed him, gesturing to the door. “I told you I would help teach you, didn’t I? So now’s a good time as any for lesson one.”
The amused look on his face faltered just a little as he watched Caspian sit up on the edge of the bed; his face was still red.
“I’m just kidding,” he said, taking a cautious step towards Caspian, unable to stop himself from reaching up to press his mid knuckles against Caspian’s cheek, and then uncurling his hand to use his fingers and palm again, wanting to cool or transfer some of the heat to himself if that meant making Caspian more comfortable.
“You don’t have to if you’re not feeling well. The cooking lesson can wait. I can bring you toast,” he offered, reaching his other hand up to pick away a few pieces of black hair that got stuck to the bandage on Caspian’s cheek.
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Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2016 3:27 pm
”If I was a god, I would have made myself taller,” Caspian deadpanned, but Michael’s laugh had made his stomach flutter in a way that was entirely distracting. His mind could not quite manage to drag itself from the feel of waking up the way he had, with Michael wrapped close around him, with his heart sent into overdrive, all warm skin and gentle sweetness that had caused his pulse to quicken.
He was being swept away. He was being swept away by Michael Gallo and his intense blue eyes and his kindhearted, quiet nature and his laughter and his rare smiles and it was almost overwhelming. Caspian had never had the rollercoaster of emotions he’d had with anyone but Michael, and the very thought of it was almost frightening, most of all because he didn’t understand it.
Caspian’s mouth opened and shut again at the idea of cooking, but Michael had stepped back towards him before he could answer it. He felt the sweep of fingers and it coincided with the flutter in his chest, his lashes lowering a little. The expression on his face shifted to one of uncertainty, and Caspian lifted his own hand, once again covering Michael’s with it, pressing it a little more securely against his cheek.
What was wrong with him?
His eyes rose until they met Michael’s, Caspian biting his lip.
I want -
If it had been anyone else, it would have been different. If it had been someone other than Michael Gallo, it would have been easier to stand up, to step close, to wrap his arms around their waist, to -
No, no, no, I can’t, I can’t -
He was overthinking this. He was making a mess out of it. He was in over his head, he was -
“I don’t...mind coming down to help you,” said Caspian quietly. “I can stand and watch if you want me to keep resting, but just…”
He gave a small shrug of his shoulders, smiling up at Michael.
“I’ll just sit down there with you.”
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Posted: Sun Jul 17, 2016 6:28 pm
"Being tall is overrated," Michael insisted, a small smile leaning towards fondness pulling at his lips as Caspian placed a hand over the one Michael had on his cheek again. He never expected spending time with someone as he had with Caspian would make him feel as light and relieved as it did, but he would be lying if he said he didn't like it.
"More spiderwebs to run into. Low ceilings are always a surprise. People like asking exactly how tall you are or how the weather is up here. Compact anythings are the worst. And I hate walking in the city when it rains because the pointy parts of open umbrellas are always right at eye level," Michael lamented, almost dramatically so, if only for Caspian's benefit since he didn't seem to be feeling all that well and could use some cheering up.
"I don't think there's anything wrong with you, or with being shorter," he continued with a small shrug, his voice light but soft. "For one, you don't have to worry about shower heads being too low. I bet you're great at hide and seek and climbing trees and things. And you don't have to worry about not having enough leg room, although you've got pretty long legs for your height, so that might not be the best example," he said, nudging at Caspian's foot with his own for emphasis.
He wished Caspian's didn't have such poor self image when there was nothing wrong with him, but Michael could at least understand. What he didn't understand was the look Caspian was giving him, having never seen anyone look at him that way before. It confused him. He couldn't quite determine if he was sad or lonely or upset. Or maybe it was something else entirely. It was almost strangely shy and unsure and self conscious for someone he was used to seeing so open and bright.
"Alright," he conceded, "You can watch. But if you start feeling worse then don't feel obligated." Michael started to take a step back, waiting for Caspian to get up and maybe lead the way to the kitchen. Or he could if it seemed as though Caspian just wasn't up for it.
"Need me to carry you?" he offered, half joking, but also half serious.
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