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 Posted: Sun Aug 07, 2016 7:18 pm
The rest of the evening went by in a strangely tense, but relaxed way. Peter was still eyeing him cautiously out of the corner of his eye, maybe feeling guilty or wary about what Michael might end up doing next. Chris had called him as well, as if to make sure Peter wasn’t lying to him about Michael being okay. He was grateful that his brothers had only contacted Caspian and not their parents. That would have been a nightmare to try and clean up.
They ordered Chinese take out, since Michael was way too exhausted to even think about cooking. And he was starving, having only had a little bit to eat, and way too much alcohol, which he regretted because he felt miserable once the medicine he took started wearing off.
Peter, who was taller (blessedly, in Peter’s words) than Caspian, easily had an extra pair of thin sweatpants for Caspian to borrow, and a number of extra shirts that he could use as well.
Although Michael had already dozed off twice on the couch after they all ate, once it was determined that they should go to bed, he felt as though he had a second wind and naturally wasn’t as tired as he had been just sitting down. He’d changed into sweatpants and a tanktop and had disappeared into the bathroom to check on the various injuries he had, and reapplied some of the bandages.
He’d been stupid, he knew. But thankfully everything was okay for now. He felt guilty for wanting to stay awake as long as he could, if only to continue talking to Caspian, knowing very well that Caspian was probably exhausted. Michael knew he should be exhausted, and yet…
Distracted by the nasty bruise he had on his hip, Michael hadn’t even noticed that anyone had approached the half-open bathroom door, probably to check to make sure that he was okay after staying there for so long.
“S-s**t, Cas…” he sputtered, pulling the waistband of his sweatpants back up and his shirt back down, his face heating stupidly and needlessly since it was just Caspian. So why did he always seem to react in such a way??
“Sorry, it’s okay,” he quickly said, not wanting Caspian to think that he was doing anything bad, or that he was injured more than a few bumps and scrapes. “Sorry, you startled me…”
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Posted: Sun Aug 07, 2016 7:39 pm
Caspian had stayed curled up in Michael’s lap until forced to get up, and it had been extremely reluctant. He’d liked - perhaps a little too much - the flush that had been on his cheeks, and the way his arms had felt around him, keeping him safe and secure and reminding Caspian that he was alive and okay. But he’d pushed too many lines already, he knew it, and was pushing even more insinuating that he was planning on taking half of Michael’s bed over.
Except he couldn’t quite stop himself, Caspian’s longing for more almost overwhelming him. Throughout dinner he was his normal, relaxed self, tossing in his usual airy remarks to Peter just because it was entertaining to needle him, and because they needed some semblance of normality, he’d thought.
It frightened Caspian just how much he thought eating dinner with Michael and his brother to be normal.
Peter’s clothes were a size too big for him, thanks to his added height, something that Caspian grumbled about as he tugged on everything. He had, of course, requested something long-sleeved, and the sleeves came down over his fingertips, the sweatpants low on his hips even after he tugged the drawstring tighter. Several comments were muttered under his breath in the safety of Michael’s empty room before Caspian padded out to check on Michael.
Who was in the bathroom still, with the door half open. Caspian came to a sudden, abrupt halt, his eyes falling immediately to the nasty, purpleish bruise that spread across one lean hip, spreading across the skin like shadows.
He couldn’t help but stare, though his gaze snapped up again as Michael flustered. Biting his lip momentarily, Caspian pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped inside, trying to ignore the heat in his face that had not abated during dinner, or the rapid beating of his heart.
His fingers reached out, brushed the hem of Michael’s shirt before Caspian turned, leaning back against the sink with his arms folded across his chest, mostly to keep himself from reaching out and touching him again. He looked up at Michael with his lips pressed together, not in anger, but in quiet worry, his eyes searching.
“Did you…” His voice was a little hoarse. He needed to act normal about this, even though it ached more painfully than he could have thought.
“Is that from the jealous ex-boyfriend?” Caspian asked, head tilted to the side.
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Posted: Sun Aug 07, 2016 7:52 pm
Michael watched, almost nervously as Caspian made his way into the bathroom, but showed no resistance when he reached to touch the hem of his shirt.
The guilt he felt was still there. He had been so resolved in pushing Caspian out of his life once he'd returned, and yet Caspian stubbornly clung to whatever it was they had. It was completely unnerving for Michael, who was used to people quickly turning tail when he said purposefully hurtful things. Because who would want to deal with that?
But Caspian... against all his expectations based on experience... refused to give up on him. Which was proof more than ever that Caspian was clearly more of an adult than he was. It was absurd to think that someone would fight through the horrible things he said to them, and still offer the support and kindness Caspian gave him.
Michael glanced from Caspian, to his hip, and then guiltily away. Now that Caspian hadn't left and his lame half true story was thrown back into his face, Michael realized just how horrible he really sounded, saying things that he didn't mean at all.
"It sounded cooler than getting my a** handed to me because I was too drunk to defend myself," he mumbled in shame, unable to look at Caspian or himself in the mirror. "That part was a lie. I was too out of it to think about anyone else when all I could think of was -"
Michael immediately stopped, realizing what he was about to say and quickly tried to make himself not sound so desperate. "- was how pathetic I was acting."
It was bad enough that he'd gone missing for three days without any contact and then tried to stupidly push Caspian away with equally stupid stories. But to tell him that the reason he didn't give in to any suggestive invitations was because he thought about how it would hurt Caspian was absolutely ridiculous. They were just friends. And Michael had in no way ever agreed to any type of monogamous relationship in the past. Probably because his relationships were literally only one night, but still.
"You're probably going to stop believing anything I tell you now, huh?" he wondered miserably, knowing that it was entirely understandable if that were the case.
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Posted: Sun Aug 07, 2016 8:32 pm
Caspian wanted, desperately, to ask what part was a lie? Was it the part where you told me you slept around? Or was it the part where you told me that you just wanted to get laid because it had been a while because of me?
Except the words wouldn’t come; and Caspian wasn’t even sure he wanted to know whether it was his fault that Michael had not been able to go out and do whatever it was that he...maybe wanted to do. That Caspian hoped he didn’t want to do, because the idea of Michael wanting someone else - even having a girlfriend or something that he was unaware of, made Caspian feel uneasy and unsteady in a way that he did not like.
He bit his lip and unfolded his arms. Caspian hesitated, then slid his hands to rest on Michael’s waist, looking up at him, his fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt and holding on.
“I trust you,” he said quietly. “I do, Michael. That hasn’t changed. I know you; I knew you were trying to push me away because you told me before you thought it was better for me that way in the long run.”
But it still hurt. It ached, throbbed painfully in his chest, and Caspian’s hands tightened before loosening a little. Knowing once more he was pushing lines, his fingers slipped beneath the hem of Michael’s shirt, feeling the warm, tender, bruised skin beneath.
Michael had already pushed lines in what he had tried to say and do, and Caspian forgave him, but it did not erase the hurt, and they both knew it. He looked up at Michael, and his expression was quiet even with his still flushed cheeks, Caspian leaning back against the sink.
“Does it hurt?” he asked softly. “Was it a fall or did someone actually hit you?”
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Posted: Mon Aug 08, 2016 8:54 pm
He was still afraid all of this might be a huge mistake. He was afraid he was setting Caspian up to be miserable in the long run. Michael knew he didn’t have anything to offer him in return. Not really. He didn’t even know what he did that made Caspian want to stay around him except for maybe saying and doing things that Caspian claimed were always right, even if Michael didn’t think that at all.
Hands lifted to his waist, and he felt the curl of Caspian’s fingers into the fabric as Michael stared down at him. He drew in a deep breath as Caspian told him how he trusted him, all the while Michael thinking it was going to blow up in their faces. He knew he hurt Caspian. That was the point. He’d said horrible things again and Caspian still didn’t leave.
Michael blinked in slight surprise and lifted his arm as Caspian slipped his fingers under his shirt, trying not to wince in response to the more than gentle touch. What he did flinch at was Caspian asking him what happened.
“That…” he muttered sheepishly, feeling guilty and ashamed for being weak, “I probably deserved. I didn’t really know what I was doing. I’d had way too much to drink… I probably still smell like alcohol, even though I showered.” He grimaced at the thought, feeling as though he should have much better control on things than he did.
He lifted his bare right hand to show the bruises from where something had dug into his wrist, as if being torn off. He had various other scrapes and bruises, but the few on his arm had already been bandaged. “I don’t really need a watch, but… I guess I need to get a new ID and cards now,” he groaned. This was going to be more work than he wanted to deal with. And he still needed to get his car.
“But I’ve had worse,” he promised, although that didn’t really sound like he wanted it to, and quickly added. “Only when I put pressure on it.”
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Posted: Wed Aug 31, 2016 3:00 pm
Without thinking, Caspian leaned forward, and his face pressed into Michael’s chest, his eyes closed. He inhaled deeply, letting the familiar scents surround him for just an indulgent moment, before leaning back and tilting his head up to look at Michael, his expression almost aching.
“No alcohol,” he said quietly. “Just you.”
It was a painfully familiar thing; he wanted to be wrapped in it, in Michael’s arms, letting the sweet, citrusy scent and the woodsy surround him so that it was nothing but safety and comfort. But here Michael was, standing in front of him, bruised and bloodied, with an aching regard for Caspian that was currently mired in a silent hopelessness and a frustration and a history that Caspian knew nothing of yet.
He remembered waking up to the feel of Michael’s hand smoothing warmly up his bare back and it ached even more.
“No pressure, then,” said Caspian, and his gaze flickered downward, his fingers still resting lightly against Michael’s hip. He wanted -
-more than this.
He wanted -
Caspian reached for Michael’s hand, and it was not the one that he normally took, the left one, but he could see the bruises as plain as day, purple and dark against Michael’s skin. And he should not do this, he knew he shouldn’t, but everything hurt too much, and he wanted too much -
He lifted Michael’s hand with one of his own, and pressed his lips to the inside of his wrist.
It was a brief, fluttering thing. Caspian drew back after a few seconds, and let go, his hands moving to rest against the sink behind him, curling around the edges. He wasn’t looking at Michael as he said quietly,
“We should get to bed. You should lie down.”
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Posted: Wed Aug 31, 2016 3:33 pm
He could have sworn that his heart stopped for a fraction of a moment as Caspian pressed his face against his chest. Michael’s eyes widened for only a couple seconds before his gaze shifted into something much softer. Once again, he let Caspian do as he pleased, not resisting as Caspian lifted his wrist to his lips.
Michael felt the heat wash over him, his face flushed and his breathing a bit heavier than before. He almost didn’t lower his hand back down when Caspian released it, but instead stood in a complete daze, just staring.
Caspian was no longer looking at him, but Michael wanted to-
What? He wanted to take him into his arms, to hold him, to beg his forgiveness for what he’d done, to kiss him--
Michael felt his hands curl up by his sides, resisting the urge of easily leaning down and pressing his mouth to Caspian’s. It wasn’t fair to Caspian. Not after everything Michael had already put him through. To say such horrible things and then think that it was okay to kiss him?
And yet… His wrist still tingled pleasantly from where Caspian’s lips had been. He wanted more of that feeling, but…
He took a step closer as Caspian leaned back against the sink, and he lifted his hand to place against the back of Caspian’s head, his fingers sinking into his hair, while he reached out with the other to brace himself against the counter. He didn’t mean to make it seem as though he were trapping Caspian between himself and the counter, but he vaguely realized that there was little room for Caspian to escape if he wanted. Michael leaned down then, his forehead pressing against Caspian’s, his expression pained from all the things he wanted and couldn’t have and didn’t deserve.
It only lasted a few moments, before he was pulling away, his hand slipping down to Caspian’s neck, giving it an affectionate brush with his fingers, and taking a step back.
“Yeah… alright,” he agreed to going to bed, knowing it would at least be more comfortable. And he really was exhausted.
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Posted: Wed Aug 31, 2016 4:07 pm
He felt, suddenly, the presence of Michael in front of him, too close and not close enough all at once. His breath caught in his throat, Caspian’s head raising, his hands gripping the sink, to stare, wide-eyed, as Michael leaned down. There was an arm to the side of him, boxing him in, but Caspian couldn’t care about it, not when there were fingers shifting through his hair, not when Michael was bending his head, pressing their foreheads together.
His heart nearly stopped.
It was impossible to think of anything other than the closeness, the bracing, solid figure of Michael above him, around him. In any other circumstances, with any other person, it might have been intimidating, but not here, not now, not when it was the one person that Caspian felt the most connected to out of anyone save for his immediate family, and even then, he could not really count them now.
He could do it. He could tilt his head, he could lean up and press his mouth to Michael’s and kiss him, and Caspian had to fight back the physical urge to do exactly that. One hand shifted away from the sink, moved to rest on Michael’s arm where it was braced on the sink, his own fingers curling around his bicep; the other hand mirrored Michael’s, Caspian’s fingers resting at the nape of his neck, not pulling or pushing, but simply holding.
He couldn’t. He couldn’t put Michael in that position, not now.
But he wanted to badly enough that it ached even worse than before, before Michael had told him what he had been doing all weekend.
Too soon Michael was pulling away. Caspian’s breathing was shallowed, his cheeks reddened, and for a few seconds, he stood there, unable to bring himself to move. He felt off balance, fingers trembling with the effort of holding back from all he wanted and being unable to have it.
He swallowed hard and nodded. Caspian pushed away from the counter, and stood there in front of Michael, his chest tight, arms at his sides.
“Go ahead,” he said quietly, and nodded towards the doorway. “I’ll follow you.”
He wondered, now, if it was still okay if he stayed in the same bed, and whether Michael would be uncomfortable if he did.
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Posted: Wed Aug 31, 2016 5:40 pm
Probably not. It probably would definitely not be okay for Caspian to sleep in his bed now because all he could think about was how warm Caspian felt, and how hot his own cheeks were, and how all he wanted was to be closer to him. Somewhere, this desire for companionship had dropped the companionship part, although Caspian was definitely his friend. Right??
Michael nodded and took a step backwards before turning to head back into the boring grey room which was his bedroom. He went to make sure the curtains were closed completely, before turning back towards the bed. His room really did look like it was from a hotel. Unlike Caspian’s room, there was nothing of real interest. Maybe his books, but it wasn’t as though he kept any photos or items that would give people hints into what he was like, or what his interests were. The artwork was more minimalist and chosen by his mother, probably, because he didn’t remember getting any artwork for himself. It wasn’t really his style. Well… if he was honest, he didn’t really have a style.
He didn’t bother going to check on Peter, knowing he could take care of himself, and knew where he was if he needed anything. Which, of course, made him feel even more guilty for suddenly leaving. He would have to make it up to Peter somehow.
In the meantime, Michael tried not to think too much about the feel of Caspian’s lips on his skin, or the soft touch of his fingers, pressing against his neck, holding him there as he leaned in to touch his forehead to Caspian’s. It was too much and too fast and ridiculous to think that Caspian really wanted more than just to be close to him. He liked the warmth, he was sure. Everything else…
Michael tugged down the sheets of the blanket. The bed itself only had the headboard against the wall, so if needed, Caspian could climb on the other side.
“I can… sleep on the couch, if you’d like,” he hesitated, reverting back to his offers to allow Caspian to get out of an awkward situation if he wanted.
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Posted: Thu Sep 01, 2016 8:16 pm
He followed Michael wordlessly down the hall, trying to steady his own heart, which seemed to have decided that it was going to remain crashing against his chest no matter how hard he tried to keep it steady. The flush on his cheeks was also stubbornly resistant to any attempts at holding it at bay, and Caspian could almost hear his pulse thundering in his ears.
It didn’t matter that Michael’s room was quiet and gray, it suited him in some respects, even if Caspian thought that a little more color would help spruce it up nicely. His eyes, however, remained on Michael and not the decorations (or lack thereof), unable to fully draw himself away from looking at him, watching him. He felt a little dizzy again, and wondered whether it was all due to Michael’s closeness or simply the tidal wave of emotions he kept feeling.
The question pulled him out of his thoughts, Caspian’s gaze flickered up to Michael’s. Silently, he padded across the remaining space between them until he stood right beside him, his gaze surprisingly level, even with the ricocheting feelings twisting his stomach.
“No,” he said simply and quietly. “I don’t want you to.”
It was a selfish request, and he knew it, but Caspian was not going to let him go. Not now, not after everything that had happened, not even with his growing need for something he couldn’t quite reach for.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to back away. Caspian took a step closer until he was close enough beside Michael that their hands brushed, and while he didn’t take his hand, his gaze still remained on Michael’s. The air in the room felt thick around them.
“Stay with me.”
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Posted: Fri Sep 02, 2016 6:12 am
Stay with me.
Michael wondered if he should be concerned that he wanted to. He wanted to stay with Caspian, and have Caspian stay with him. It was more than he thought he should have the right to want, but he realized that he would rather stay right there than go anywhere else.
He could feel the touch of Caspian’s hand against his own, even though he didn’t take hold of it, or do anything to draw him closer, but Michael felt as though he was being pulled in, anyway. He didn’t know when the void in his heart seemed to start healing, but he was fairly confident it was all due to Caspian’s efforts.
Slowly, Michael pulled his hand away from where it brushed against Caspians, but only so he could climb up onto the bed, pulling his legs up and and resting his arms across his knees.
“I don’t understand you,” he said, and he realized he’d said something like that before, if not those exact words. Why was Caspian so open, so understanding? What had he done to have Caspian look at him with those deep blue eyes, filled to the brim with emotion. Emotions he was certain Caspian didn’t show to many others, if anyone.
“I’ve been a complete… jerk… and you still…” but he couldn’t continue, instead lowering his eyes in shame. He knew it hurt, what he’d said to Caspian. It was why he said those things. But Caspian was different in that he held on longer than anyone else had.
But Michael knew that if he wasn’t careful, something could eventually break everything. And he would be left with nothing.
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Posted: Sat Sep 03, 2016 8:03 am
He let Michael get settled, watching as he did so, his gaze quiet in the dim light of the room. Caspian’s blue eyes flickered towards his face as he heard him speak, and the disconcerted statement, almost a question except not entirely, made his gaze shift, Caspian’s expression changing ever so slightly, though it remained quiet.
I’ve been a complete jerk to you and you still -
And you still stay by me, was the unfinished rest of his sentence. Caspian knew it without having to ask. He stood beside the bed, looking down at Michael, and the truth stuck in his throat, heavy and thick, so that he had to physically swallow it back as he drew in a sharp breath of air.
Because I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you.
Because I need you, more than you know.
Because no one has ever made me feel the way that you do, and I don’t want to lose that.
Because I…
Slowly, Caspian put a knee on the bed, climbing onto it, not from the other side, where it would be easier, but from Michael’s side. He crawled around him until he was beside him, then shifted his legs between him, kneeling close to Michael, his hands resting on his legs, sleeves falling over his fingers.
His heart was aching.
“Because you’re better than that,” he said quietly. “Because you’re more than what you think you are, and I can see that.”
Caspian swallowed again, his face feeling warm, and the words tumbled out of him before he could stop them.
“Because I can’t seem to walk away from you, and because I don’t think I ever want to stop feeling the way I do when I’m with you.”
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Posted: Sat Sep 03, 2016 5:39 pm
Michael’s eyes followed Caspian’s movements, almost a little warily because he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. He knew Caspian wanted to be close to him, but he was always… always miserably questioning to what extent. The touches, the closeness… it made it seem as though Caspian wanted more than just the friendship they’d developed, but Michael knew he could be very wrong. He could end up ruining everything with the wrong move, with the wrong words.
He didn’t realize he was holding his breath as Caspian drew himself up onto the bed, and carefully moved closer to him, kneeling so close to him that it would be easy to reach out and pull him closer. And he wanted to pull him close. He wanted to tell him how sorry he was for everything, but couldn’t.
Blue eyes widened slightly at the words that came out, thick with emotion, as if Caspian was having a hard time breathing as he spoke. Michael knew his face had darkened in color again, or maybe the heat never quite disappeared. He was falling again, but falling into the warm gaze that caught him and held him.
This… this was something else… something beyond what he was capable of understanding, and Michael wondered if he would ever understand it. Somewhere, deep down, he knew what it was that he felt… but he knew he shouldn’t…
“Don’t say things like that,” he mumbled in shame, lowering his eyes to look away. “You’ll give me an ego, or something,” he tried to joke, but only because he didn’t know what else to say. The air was too thick for him to breathe properly. Caspian was too close, too warm… he couldn’t think.
But that wasn’t true. He could think, but it all involved reaching out and touching when he knew that he shouldn’t.
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Posted: Sat Sep 03, 2016 5:50 pm
His head could not quite wrap around whatever it was that was happening between them, other than that it wasn’t quite enough and that it needed to be, because it couldn’t be anything more. Caspian could see the red flush to Michael’s cheeks and wanted to lean forward and press his lips to it, feel the warm skin with the tips of his fingers, slide his hands through that tousled hair.
He didn’t do that. What he did do was shift a little on the bed, sliding closer to Michael, Caspian’s heart in his throat. He reached out a hand, and his fingers curled in the hem of Michael’s shirt, not grabbing, but holding loosely, as though giving Michael an out if he needed one, for whatever reason.
“No, you won’t,” Caspian whispered. “Not you.”
The hand holding onto Michael’s shirt was trembling a little, Caspian could feel it, and he held on a little more tightly, trying to stop it. He didn’t know if he should joke himself, take back what he had said, make some sort of lighthearted comment involving relax or calm down.
Except he couldn’t do that, because it wasn’t a joke. Far, far from a joke.
The question left him, slipping out.
“Did you really go and spend the whole weekend messing and sleeping around with strangers?”
The expression on Caspian’s face was pained, because he could not stop himself, trying desperately to reign it in, to tamp down on the ache in his chest.
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Posted: Sat Sep 03, 2016 6:51 pm
He didn’t resist. At this point he didn’t think he could. Whatever Caspian wanted, his initial reaction was to give it to him, no matter what it was. If Caspian needed to hold onto his shirt, then he could. If he needed to be closer, then he could. If he needed more than that… Michael was sure they would find a way to make it work.
Already looking away in shame, Michael flinched slightly when Caspian asked what Michael was sure he was wondering about. It almost made him want to cry. How much of a jerk he had been? How much he’d tried to push at Caspian to leave? It was too much, too cruel to put someone like Caspian through. To toy with the emotions that Michael suspected but couldn’t quite prove were there.
“No,” he said softly, the shame manifesting in a way that had him almost pulling away from Caspian again. His chest was tight, his lungs lacked air. It was a coward’s tale, something that he knew had the potential to make Caspian turn and leave.
But he didn’t. Instead, Caspian remained right where he stood, despite being obviously upset about it. Michael was not proud of himself.
“I didn’t want to. I haven’t wanted…” he mumbled, but quickly realized he wasn’t making much sense, and shook his head. It was one thing to tell Caspian that he’d lied about sleeping around that weekend, but it was another thing to try and say that he’d had no desire to return to that part of his life, when he could have been spent more time with Caspian.
“I’d rather be with you…” he said softly, his face still red with shame and now a bit of embarrassment, still unable to look at Caspian for fear of what he would see, or not see.
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