|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2016 8:23 pm
Michael was back home, thankfully. He was alive but he looked like s**t. He’d already texted both Caspian and Chris, and was on the phone with the latter when he saw Caspian making his way to the door, out of the living room window. “Yeah, hang on, Caspian just got here. Of course I told him! He was the one looking for Michael,” Peter said into the phone as he reached the front door to open it.
“He didn’t say anything to me. He just came home and went to shower. He’s been in there since I texted,” Peter explained, not bothering to differentiate between whether he was talking to Chris or talking to Caspian since it kind of applied to both of them at this point. A lot had happened in the past few days that Michael had left, leaving Peter calling after him. A lot of it was a drunken blur. He’d already opened up too much. He knew his guard had been down. He should have been prepared to brush off the questions Peter was probably going to ask him as if they were nothing. That was how he’d trained himself to respond. That was how he was planning on going back to. It was easier.
He knew there was not a lot of time between making it home and Peter surely telling both Chris and Caspian. He received the messages from Chris, of course, but he was in no state to respond, nor did he want to respond. So instead, he took the time to shower and brush his teeth and comb his hair and tend to the darkening bruises and cuts he’d gotten, steeling his resolve.
Michael could hear Peter opening the front door, and him talking to someone as Michael finished sticking a bandage to his side, and pulling his clean shirt back down. The clothing he had been wearing were thrown into the trash, since they were torn up to the point of being unwearable.
“I didn’t think you’d actually report me as missing,” he said with a small laugh as he stepped out of his bedroom to face the two, a hand still running through his damp hair to brush the short strands back. “I didn’t realize I left my phone.”
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 28, 2016 8:33 pm
He did not bother to knock.
Peter opened the door for him anyway, a phone held up to his ear, presumably talking to either Chris or their parents. Caspian hardly acknowledged him, except for a single nod as thanks for letting him know about Michael’s return.
No, he only had eyes for one person, and that person had just stepped out into the living room, his hair still damp from the shower. Michael looked as he ever did, tired and worn, except with new bruises and new injuries that had yet to be explained - and a smile, and a laugh that did not make sense and did not do anything to help lighten the mood.
Caspian came to a stop beside Peter, though his gaze never wavered, and it was fierce in its intensity as he stared across the room at Michael, acting as though everything was simply fine and dandy. His arms hung at his sides, fingers loosely curled, and if Peter was still talking on the phone, Caspian was unaware of it.
His heart was in his throat. He said nothing at all, just stood there, his expression perfectly blank save for the intensity in his eyes, and watched Michael.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2016 8:30 pm
Being the younger brother of two Jupiter knights, Peter was well aware when a storm was brewing. Metaphorically, of course. He cringed away at the look on Caspian’s face, and then turned to gape in astonishment as Michael so casually came back out into the living room after he’d just limped back into the house not too long ago. The look on Michael’s face seemed much too forced for the situation.
“What? No, nothing’s happening, hang on,” Peter said quietly into the phone as he looked from Caspian to Michael and then back, subtly placing the phone onto speaker mode so that Chris would be able to hear whatever exchange happened. Just in case Peter somehow didn’t make it out of the fallout. He didn’t like the look on either of their faces. Peter, looking completely surprised and probably going to tell Caspian and Chris everything that he’d seen or heard. And then there was Caspian, whose blue eyes stared at him with an intensity that didn’t match the blank look on his face.
Michael’s own expression, while he was not smiling at the moment, held something that was supposed to look like nonchalant amusement, while his eyes were carefully blank.
Arms lifted to cross casually over his chest, and he leaned his shoulder against the wall that separated the short hallway to the bedrooms and living room, shifting his weight to lean mostly on one leg, the other crossing over and resting his toes on the other side of his foot.
He made no motion to draw closer, knowing that even though he wanted to, it was better to get Caspian to leave while he could. While there was still a chance. If he could do it while he was still mad at him for being gone, the better.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2016 9:34 pm
The silence was deafening.
It was so thick and so tense that it was almost as though they were standing there on the edge of a knife, balanced so precariously that even the slightest wrong movement would result in a disaster. Michael wasn’t smiling, but his expression was careful - lighthearted, even, as he looked at Caspian, amused, and it was this, perhaps that was the worst. That, along with his utterly nonchalant posture, leaning against the wall as though Caspian was nothing more than a child he found vaguely entertaining in some way.
Caspian tamped down on several urges, none of which were particularly useful at the present time, and most of which involved kicking Michael in some way, one of which involved in the use of a frying pan to knock some sense into him.
He let the silence stretch out for approximately one more minute and three seconds before he broke it.
“Well?” said Caspian, and his tone, too, was deliberately light, almost careless.
“Did you just decide to go out for a little jaunt or something?”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2016 7:49 pm
He didn’t like it. Michael didn’t know if he could keep this up, but he knew it was better than the alternative. He couldn’t stand this type of silence between them.
“Something like that,” Michael shrugged, a small grin easily making its way back onto his face, mostly to hide the flinch that might have been noticeable had he not. “Just needed to get out of the house. Kinda of had a wild weekend, though. Must have had a little too much to drink,” he let out another small laugh, lifting a hand in a half shrug.
“You didn’t seriously sit around waiting for me, did you?” he wondered, his voice adopting something of an amused, sympathetic quality to it. “That’s a little sad, you know.”
Michael continued to ignore the gaping expression from Peter, focused more on Caspian and the careless way he spoke. His heart ached, but he knew this was the only way.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2016 8:18 pm
And now he was grinning.
Caspian knew Peter was in the room, was aware of his presence to some extent - but he couldn’t bring himself to even look at him, not when Michael was almost smirking at him the way he was. He was standing here in front of him, looking calm and relaxed and amused, as though he had not just completely disappeared for the past few days and driven them all crazy with worry.
You didn’t seriously sit around waiting for me, did you?
That’s a little sad, you know.
Something in Caspian snapped.
He gave a slow nod, as though coming to some sort of conclusion, his expression remote, calm, almost easygoing. Caspian glanced briefly at Peter, then turned back to Michael, looking the very picture of relaxation as he took the several steps forward in order to reach Michael.
“Sad, yes,” he said airily. “Well, Michael, here’s some more sad for you.”
And he reached out, seized Michael’s arms and jerked his knee up in the direction of Michael’s groin with as much force and speed as he could.
“Have some more <******** sad.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2016 8:28 pm
Teasing and abuse in order to get him to try and react negatively was nothing new for Michael. Many on his ship had it in their heads that he’d gotten to where he was simply because of his father’s influence, and not of his own accord. They did everything they could to get him to react so he would be written up for behavior unbefitting of an officer. Being tripped down stairs, things knocked from his hands, fake orders to get him to show up at the wrong place; it was nothing he hadn’t grown used to. They didn’t stop him from being awarded his first medal of merit.
Michael’s eyes widened only slightly as Caspian approached him, and he was sure Caspian would notice that he didn’t bother trying to resist when he grabbed for his arms, and then the swift knee between his legs. He couldn’t help but crumple to the floor, stars exploding behind his eyes, the pain immobilizing him.
He hissed from the pain, having pulled his arms away only so he could press his forearms to the ground in front of him, fingers digging at the hardwood as he kneeled, his forehead to the ground as well. He could feel his body shake, his head throb, the medicine he’d taken not quite enough to suppress the pain he already felt on top of being kneed.
And yes, it was pretty sad. It was sad because he knew he deserved it.
He knew he deserved more than that.
“That… make you feel better?” he forced out a muffled laugh, still bent over on himself. Still shaking just slightly, although he did his best to try and stop.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2016 8:39 pm
He felt a vindictive sort of satisfaction as Michael crumpled, Caspian merely watching him as he fell, his eyebrows raised. Causing Michael pain wasn’t exactly high on his list of things that he preferred; and he knew, somewhere, that Michael was already injured, but if he had not gotten that out of his system, it would have been in some other, more violent way.
And he did not want to see Michael more hurt than he already was.
“Yes,” said Caspian. “It did.”
He sank to his knees beside Michael and without any sort of warning or hesitation, heedless of the fact that Peter was a few feet away, slid his arms around him. Caspian’s face pressed into the hollow of Michael’s neck, one hand on the back of Michael’s head, arms secure around his shoulders.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t try to even make a sound, he simply stayed there, holding Michael gently, as though that had been his intention all along.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2016 9:07 pm
Michael’s eyes widened a fraction as he could feel the movement of Caspian kneeling down beside him, and then wrapped his arms around him, his breath against Michael’s neck, his hand on his head, in his hair.
He couldn’t do this. His resolve was slipping. Caspian was there, offering him everything he needed, showing him warmth and care that no one else could. Michael could feel the warmth of Caspian’s cheek against his neck, the soft breathing in and out as he held him. Michael knew he didn’t deserve this.
Before he let himself get too caught up in the feel of Caspian’s arms around him, and once he was actually able to move, Michael pushed himself up from the ground, not standing up just yet, be leaning back on his knees. He looked down at Caspian with a frown, but it was more resigned to the fact that things weren’t going to be how they used to be. How they were just starting to be.
“Great, well… if you’re done, you can leave…”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2016 9:52 pm
Too soon, Michael was pulling away. Too soon, Michael was looking at him with that frowning expression on his face.
Too soon, Michael was closing himself off.
If you’re done, you can leave.
Caspian felt the words like a slap in the face, like ice cold water doused across his back. His expression went from stunned to overwhelmingly hurt, to angry all within a few seconds; and then, finally, to closed off and shuttered shut, his blue eyes darkening, his lips pressing together.
“Peter,” said Caspian, in a level tone that surprised even himself, but he was not looking at Peter as he spoke, only at Michael. “I know you probably want to talk to your brother, but I’m afraid I need a few minutes with him first.”
He was not tall enough, nor strong enough to drag Michael, but he was also blocking the way to the rest of the house, which meant that as Caspian pushed forward, grabbing him by the arm, the only way to go was back into Michael’s room. And regardless of strength, Caspian was not about to let him walk away, pushing and shoving Michael back with all the strength he had.
This damn b*****d.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jul 31, 2016 5:13 pm
Michael heard something mumbled from Peter’s direction, but his eyes were trained on Caspian. He felt a strange sinking feeling as Caspian’s expression shifted. He knew he was the cause of that shift. He was purposefully saying things that he thought would get under Caspian’s skin. Things that couldn’t be forgiven. He might not have said anything like that just yet, but…
He didn’t have the chance to open his mouth as Caspian suddenly pushed at him, and he let out a hiss of pain as Caspian inadvertently pressed against one of the bruises he’d received. He pulled away, trying to avoid Caspian’s hands as he pushed him back, but the little bursts of pain dazed him in a way that prevented a stronger reaction.
By the time he was finally able to stagger to his feet, Caspian had him backed up to his bedroom door, and he stumbled inside, trying not to look as surprised or nervous as he suddenly felt. Not that he thought Caspian would really hurt him, but he was rather unpredictable…
“What the hell,” he hissed, his hand pressed against his side, still hunched over slightly from being previously abused. “What could you possibly want with me?” he frowned, his eyes still somewhat wide, but guarded.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 06, 2016 3:06 pm
He knew he was hurting Michael with every push and shove, but he couldn’t stop, not when he needed so desperately to understand. Caspian ignored the unpleasant sinking feeling in his stomach with every hiss of pain until they were in the room, and he could shut the door.
There was a click and a snap as he pushed it with his foot, throwing the lock. Caspian stood in front of it, arms folded across his chest, preventing any sort of escape; and the carefully blank, closed off expression that had been on his face before was gone completely now, replaced by one of anger.
“Let’s get one thing straight here, Michael Gallo,” said Caspian, as though he hadn’t heard Michael’s question. “You might think I’m young or whatever, but the one thing I’m not, in spite of prior offenses, is stupid.”
His eyes were blazing, his pulse rapid, his heart hammering against his chest. Caspian could not ever remember feeling as angry as he did, his face burning with it.
“You think I can’t tell that you’re deliberately trying to push me away again?” he snapped, his eyebrows raised. “You think I haven’t guessed already that you’re full of s**t when you paste that ridiculous smile on your face and pretend that everything’s okay? You think I don’t realize that something’s clearly happened to you and that you’d probably rather not talk about it, but guess what? We’re talking about it.”
He leaned back against the doorway, Caspian’s arms still tight across his chest, trying to ease the shaking of his fingers that he hoped very much was not visible.
“So start talking, and if you lie to me again, I’ll really make sure that you can’t ever sit down again.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 06, 2016 7:35 pm
He wasn’t angry. Despite being pushed around and kicked and cornered, he wasn’t angry. For one, he didn’t think it was wrong of Caspian to react in such a way, and two, he couldn’t afford to be angry. There were too many emotions involved with being angry. Keeping himself closed off was better, despite the threat, to which he shifted awkwardly back enough to sit on the edge of his bed, putting his hands on his legs in front of him to protect himself from any second attempt that might be made by Caspian.
In the time he’d known Caspian, this was the first time he’d seen him so angry. Of course, they’d only known each other for a short amount of time… but it felt so much longer. He should have known Caspian could see right through him already, even if he didn’t know everything about him. It was very unnerving, and very unlike the last time… He didn’t have anyone, last time.
But then Michael reminded himself how it wasn’t fair for Caspian to get involved.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he frowned, no longer forcing the smile that Caspian already called him out on, and he didn’t feel like forcing it again, anyway. Instead, he just rubbed at his side, the bandage and minor wound beneath uncomfortable.
“Peter startled me with an old newspaper clipping. I left to get some air. Ended up staying out too late. Went home with someone I didn’t know and had a good time. The next day, my car had been towed, but I didn’t want to go home yet, to I spent the day at the bars getting drunk and making out with strangers. I kissed the wrong person and got into a fight with her boyfriend. I slept on a park bench and fell into the mud. I gave my shoes to a homeless man. Then I came home.”
He kept his eyes on Caspian, a certain sadness falling over him, his heart hurting as he spoke, but knowing at least a few of those things would affect Caspian. And since he was good at picking up on lies, he carefully mixed what really happened and what didn’t. Besides, it wasn’t as though all of that wasn’t believable.
“There, we talked about it. Do you want the names of everyone I kissed or slept with? They’ll probably text me later. I gave them my number.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 06, 2016 7:51 pm
”Bullshit,” was the immediate response, the word practically spit out. Caspian glowered at him. “What utter bullshit. Of course there’s something to talk about - like the fact that you just up and disappeared for an entire weekend, without your phone, without answering anyone who tried to get in touch with you.”
He shifted from one foot to the other, acutely aware of Michael’s injuries, though not the extent of them. He felt unsteady, uneasy, and altogether unhappy with this turn of events, his hands still shaking a little, hidden beneath the fact that he kept his arms folded stubbornly across his chest.
Caspian had been going to ask about the newspaper clipping, but everything around him seemed to come to a screeching, terrible, awful halt.
Went home with someone I didn’t know and had a good time.
Spent the day at bars getting drunk and making out with strangers.
Do you want the names of everyone I kissed or slept with? I gave them my number.
It hurt. It hurt worse than the attempts at dismissing him, worse than the pain he’d gotten from that Captain who’d found him, than the one who’d had her hand on his starseed. All the air in Caspian’s lungs seemed to have dissipated, his chest heaving for breaths that would not come.
His arms had fallen free at his sides, and Caspian stared at Michael with wide, stunned eyes that hid almost nothing anymore. A steady red flush of hurt and embarrassment had found its way across his face, startlingly scarlet against pale skin, and it was like trying to think through ice, each breath aching.
No.
The fragile beginnings of...whatever it was that had started were cracking and shattering around him, and for several long moments, Caspian could do nothing but stand there and stare at him, the hurt blatantly obvious on his face, followed by the humiliation of having thought too much about something that was clearly, clearly, never going to happen.
When he found his voice again, it was thick with suppressed emotion.
“Why?”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 06, 2016 8:48 pm
Michael wasn’t proud of himself. It had been a very long time since he felt that way. Things that he did always ended up for the worst, and people got hurt, and then people died, and it was his fault for all of it. It was the coward’s way out, he knew. Pushing Caspian away like this instead of holding onto the shred of hope and comfort he felt when he was around him. It was the only way he could make sure Caspian turned to look for someone else to make him happy.
He tried very hard not to react. He could see the hurt and embarrassment flush Caspian’s face red, and he knew the heat was probably very similar to how it felt when Michael moved his fingers across those cheeks. But Caspian’s eyes were no longer filled with that gentle warmth. They were filled with pain, and Michael knew everything was breaking.
Resisting the urge to reach out to him, to apologize and to explain what really happened, Michael kept his gaze as blank as he could. It was only going to get worse, and he needed to make sure he could follow through. One day Caspian would realize it was for his own good.
“I felt like it,” he said in response. “I’ve been hanging out with you all this time, it’s been a while since… well… It’s a little hard to get laid when you’re hanging out with a college student,” he explained, wondering what Caspian was going to do.
Was he going to try to hit him, or was he going to leave? Would he never want to talk to him again, or would he stubbornly hang on, only so that Michael could find other ways to hurt him…? It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he would do it if he had to.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
