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 Posted: Wed Sep 07, 2016 9:58 pm
It should have been a more restful night. He was back home, in the comfort of his own bed, but his dreams kept waking him. His eyes would flutter open, and he would stare up at the ceiling, reminding himself of where he was and that he was safe. That his family was safe. That Caspian was safe.
Each time he woke, he was fully aware of Caspian beside him, but he couldn’t wake him; he looked too peaceful.
And so, without getting as much sleep as he would have liked, Michael was still exhausted and breathing deeply as he laid on his back. One hand had been placed over his own chest, while his other arm reached out over top of the pillows, his arm resting lightly against the top of Caspian’s head.
Michael found it nice, at least; being able to wake up and look over to see someone he cared about beside him. Even without a phone call or talking to Caspian at all, Michael felt like he was able to get back to sleep without much incident each time, despite the increased frequency.
At least this was something he could focus on when he woke from those dreams, even though what he thought about seemed like a dream on its own. He could feel the warmth of Caspian’s hands on his face, of Caspian’s lips on his own. It seemed implausible that Caspian would want to be closer to him out of anyone else, and yet there they were: Michael asleep on his bed with Caspian beside him.
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Posted: Thu Sep 08, 2016 12:19 pm
Caspian, in spite of everything, did not sleep well either.
He was acutely, painfully aware of Michael next to him, more so than he’d been before, and his dreams, when he was able to fitfully doze every so often, were fragmented pieces of things he couldn’t quite distinguish. He awoke from them feeling anxious and confused, his head spinning, and the blankets clutched a little too tightly in his fingers, sweat beading on his brow.
Michael’s presence, even if it was nervewracking, was also - in an odd, contradicting sort of way - soothing and reassuring. At the very least, Caspian knew he was not alone; that this man behind him was there, asleep and yet still keeping him safe, the edge of his wrist grazing the top of Caspian’s head.
He awoke, fully, in fits and stages, dragged out of yet another uncomfortable, flittering dream that had left him disconcerted. Caspian’s eyes flickered open, his lashes feeling heavy as he blinked blearily back into reality. His sleep tousled hair was in his face, spreading out across the pillow, and the too-large, borrowed shirt he wore was twisted around his waist, as though he’d tried to turn in his sleep and the shirt had not turned with him.
He was facing Michael now, and his peaceful, sleeping face was only a short distance away. A stray lock of hair had fallen across his forehead, mahogany against his skin.
Caspian felt his face warm, his chest tighten. Everything came back to his fuzzy, heavy brain in bits and pieces: Michael returning. Him kicking Michael. Their talk.
Him kissing Michael.
He’d kissed Michael Gallo.
It seemed ludicrous, outstanding now, as Caspian lay here, watching him, his heart in his throat; almost improbable, impossible. Michael was not an overly sentimental man in terms of opening himself up in the way that Caspian did, but still.
Caspian had kissed this man.
Except…
Except he’d been the one to initiate. Michael had kissed him when Caspian had asked him, but what, exactly, did all of that mean? He felt oddly ill at ease, as though half expecting Michael to wake up and realize what had happened and that he didn’t want any of…this…whatever it was...at all. They hadn’t exactly defined things last night, and Caspian wasn’t even sure that he was able to, except that he simply wanted as much as he could from Michael - which, in the long run, was aggravatingly unhelpful.
Caspian turned back over, his back to Michael once more as he rubbed at his flushed face, trying to ease some of the warmth. He shifted to untangle his shirt, wishing he had not woken up feeling uncertain, even if he was unbearably relieved to see that Michael was, in fact, still there, and it had not just been a fluke that he’d come back at all.
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Posted: Thu Sep 08, 2016 7:29 pm
Michael woke slowly, feeling groggy and as though he was still a little drunk. Although he hadn’t had anything to drink the day before, his body was probably still trying to compensate for the fact that he’d been pretty drunk for the days prior.
He knew it had been a stupid decision. But it was the obvious thing to do when he didn’t want to remember anything. The problem was that he did remember. He remembered more now than he ever wanted to remember. Years of suppression no longer holding up, leaving him feeling breathless and alone.
But he knew he wasn’t alone. He’d made a promise, just that night, to try.
Michael thought he was doing a lot more trying these days than he was really comfortable with. It wasn’t really in his nature to try but rather to do or don’t. Now he was entering into a mindset where he needed to find a medium between the two. Somewhere that he could maybe hide away half or more of what he was thinking and feeling, and allowing Caspian to hear some of the rest. It was a strange concept to him, and although he’d been trying to let Caspian in, before, this was a little more than that.
He could vaguely feel Caspian shifting beside him, and slowly he opened his eyes to glance over at him. Caspian already had his back to him again, which was fine… For all he knew, Caspian was probably regretting everything that had happened the night before. Maybe even regretted wasting his weekend looking for him. He’d been a coward and he ran and he didn’t expect anyone to feel the need to care, despite desperately wanting someone to. It was pathetic to think that way, and Michael realized if his actions had been really just some stupid plea for attention, because now that he thought back on them, it certainly seemed that way, even if he hadn’t meant it to be.
If he’d disappeared at any time in the last five or so years, no one would have noticed. He wasn’t exactly a kind, welcoming presence like Chris, or loud and enthusiastic like Peter. Instead, he liked to stay to the background until needed. And if no one needed him, then there was no point in ever showing his face.
And that was a shitty way to think of himself, but it was difficult to get over after thinking it for years.
Almost absently, Michael shifted the hand that he had stretched across the pillow, his wrist lightly against the top of Caspian’s head. He only moved it enough to slowly card his fingers through the dark strands, watching as they revealed the bright colors he was growing more and more to appreciate. His heart felt like it was still pounding from the night before, but this time it was fueled more by a feeling of dread and anxiety, wondering if perhaps Caspian had changed his mind about… everything that happened.
He shifted onto his side as well, to be more comfortable, facing Caspian’s back, but leaving a comfortable amount of space between them, since Caspian probably wanted that. The most he could bring himself to do was to continue gently brushing at his hair until he was told to stop.
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Posted: Thu Sep 08, 2016 9:44 pm
He felt a shift in the bed and thought that perhaps Michael was simply moving in his sleep. But then gentle fingers began to move through his hair, and Caspian’s breath caught in his throat, his heart hammering in his chest, his lashes fluttering as he tried to figure out what he thought of this; what it meant. It had been a night, and only a night; but that could have meant a thousand things in that short space of time.
It was nervewracking, not knowing anything.
It was even more nervewracking knowing what he did know - which was that his feelings had not changed, had not abated overnight, even with his fitful, discontented sleep. The fact that he was now hyper aware of Michael’s presence was evidence enough of that, and Caspian could not seem to settle his heart or his mind no matter how much he tried.
Michael had insinuated that he was all right with...this...whatever “this” was, exactly, and Caspian still didn’t know. He’d said...that he’d been unable to think of anyone but Caspian, which was heartstopping, but all of that, all of the kisses, all of everything had been said during a highly emotional state at night, when things tended to be more expressive and more exaggerated. What if all it had been was a heat of the moment sort of reaction? What if Michael truly regretted everything that he’d said and done?
It was one thing to go along with the flow, but it was another to actually want to do things, want to initiate things, and so far, it had been somewhat one-sided in that respect, as much as Caspian tried to convince himself that it wasn’t; that Michael had said what he had said because he wanted this too.
The bed dipped as Michael shifted again, but the hand gently smoothing through Caspian’s hair didn’t stop or pull away. Caspian closed his eyes against the feel of it, against the nearness that wasn’t quite near enough, and that put distance between them; a distance that felt, somehow, painful.
His voice was very soft as Caspian said quietly,without turning around, “Good morning, Michael.”
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Posted: Fri Sep 09, 2016 2:32 pm
Despite his voice being very soft, and Michael could barely hear it, the quiet words was all Michael needed to confirm that Caspian had woken.
Should he stop touching his hair now? Maybe Caspian didn’t really mind it. Maybe it was just the fact that he enjoyed the physical gestures but not necessarily the emotion behind it.
His fingers hesitated for only a moment, but then slowly continued, reaching out a little further to gently pull a few fallen strands of dark hair away from Caspian’s face, carefully tucking it behind his ear. He could see a portion of Caspian’s neck now, and he couldn’t help but stare at it.
“Good morning, Cas,” he said, just as quietly. Caspian hadn’t told him to stop yet, so he continued to gently touch. He carded his fingers through his hair a few more times and then shifted a little so he could dip lower. His fingers gently brushed over his ear and then his jaw, and finally his neck, where he let the fingers rest for a little while, as though to try and feel his pulse, and then sliding his hand back up over his face to sink into his hair again, since he couldn’t move his arm any farther without completely shifting off of it.
He lifted his other hand instead, to compensate, reaching under the blanket to Caspian’s back, tracing where he knew the faint scars were that Caspian had received from the mysterious Captain who left him for dead.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, feeling guilty that he might have woken Caspian in the middle of the night for any number of reasons. Or maybe the bed was too small, or maybe he just didn’t want to be there any more, Michael didn’t know.
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Posted: Fri Sep 09, 2016 6:43 pm
Good morning, Cas.
It was soft, like his own voice; the room around them was quiet. Caspian had no idea what time it was, how late it or early it could be, whether Peter was awake and wondering where they were or if he was still lazing about in bed. He couldn’t quite bring himself to think too hard on this last matter, because Michael’s hand was still sweeping gently through his hair.
Warm fingers grazed his cheek, his ear. The side of his face, along his jaw, and then around to the back of his neck, resting, and then back up into his hair once more. Every single path taken made Caspian’s skin tingle, warm beneath the touch; he was already flushed, and the simple, almost tender ministrations made it deepen, made his stomach flutter and his chest tighten so that breathing felt more difficult than it should have been.
Gentle fingers along his back, tracing to where there were now thin scars, not as prominent as Michael’s, but permanently there, etched into Caspian’s back. A shiver ran up his spine, likely clearly felt as Caspian trembled a little, his teeth clenching together, eyes falling shut against the touches; he wanted to understand them, and couldn’t quite, not when he wasn’t as sure about them as he wanted to be.
Do you touch me because you know I want it, or because you want to?
Did you kiss me because I asked you to, or because it was what you wanted?
The answers eluded him. Caspian felt his breath shutter out of him, unsteady.
“Not really,” he murmured, because he was not about to try and say that he had when he hadn’t.
“I was too busy thinking of you.”
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Posted: Fri Sep 09, 2016 8:07 pm
I was too busy thinking of you.
The words had him freezing, his hands stopping where they were; still gently pressed against Caspian’s back, as well as the fingers in his hair. He couldn’t understand what Caspian meant, especially since he could hear the changing emotions in his voice. But he didn’t know what those emotions meant, or why he might be feeling them.
“I’m sorry,” he said with a frown, but it wasn’t really what he wanted to ask. That came just a little while later, his fingers in Caspian’s hair unintentionally tightening a little. “What about me…?”
Part of him wondered if he really wanted to know. Was it because he was afraid of the answer? Afraid that Caspian’s thoughts about him might mean that he was finally realizing how much he didn’t want to have anything to do with him?
Michael couldn’t see the flush on Caspian’s face, but he thought he could hear it in his voice. Was that weird? That he could hear the discontent in his voice?
“Hey… I’m sorry… about what I did…” he said softly, although it sounded a little like dread in his voice. He knew he shouldn’t have disappeared for a whole weekend without contacting anyone. He knew it had been stupid and now he regretted the way he freaked out over nothing. Nothing that mattered any more. Just ghosts from his past.
“I should have let you know…”
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Posted: Sat Sep 10, 2016 9:03 pm
His eyes fluttered, and Caspian remained on his side, back to Michael, his fingers curling in the blankets in front of him. It was not quite annoyance that he felt, not quite anger; but a discontent and a frustration that made his chest ache, as though breathing was something painful. Things said and done in the dark of night when emotions were high was one thing; things said when it was light, and faces could clearly be seen and voices clearly heard, that was another.
Caspian’s feelings had not changed. In fact, if anything, they were stronger now, Michael at the forefront of his consciousness; his concern, his wariness about the conversation they were starting to have. His presence behind him, the fingers stilling in his hair, the agitated hint in his voice as he spoke.
Caspian bit his lip hard enough that it hurt, hard enough that he almost drew blood.
“That’s not it,” he said. “I’m not angry about that. Not anymore.”
And then, because it was true, “I was angry. I was hurt.”
Caspian’s teeth gritted together momentarily, his heart in his throat. He wished this was not as hard as it was.
What about me? Michael had asked.
“I was thinking about you,” Caspian repeated, and his hand trembled in the blankets. “How much I’ve come to know you since I’ve met you. How stupid you are sometimes. How amazing you are most of the time. How you have a habit of giving me exits because you think I don’t want to be here, or because you think I need a way out.”
His eyes fell slowly shut, the world around him slipping away.
“How much I only want to get closer to you and how I’ve wanted to kiss you for days now, probably weeks, even though I didn’t realize it until recently, and how scared I am that you only kissed me because I asked you to and not because you actually wanted to.”
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Posted: Sun Sep 11, 2016 7:46 pm
Michael could feel his heart ache at the words that came out of Caspian’s mouth, even if they didn’t sound angry. He sounded… lonely… sad even… Michael hated it when Caspian sounded like that. He didn’t know if he could take it. The pain in his voice, or the tense way he held himself, even though he could only see Caspian’s shoulders and he back of his head.
Slowly and carefully, Michael pushed himself up so he could rest on his forearm. He reached out with his free hand to gently brush at Caspian’s hair, the purple and blue flashing with each movement.
Somehow he didn’t realize… how could he not…? Caspian was laying his heart out on the line. The sincerity in his voice, along with the hurt and pain and sadness and loneliness, was enough to make Michael wish he’d realized sooner. This gentle soul had reached out to Michael when he didn’t think he needed anyone. Caspian had offered him so much, knowing that Michael was broken and probably just as lonely as he was, but Michael had been too blinded by his own selfishness to see.
Very gently, he slid his hand over Caspian’s shoulder, using just enough pressure to get him to turn onto his back, and he felt only a little guilty about possibly forcing Caspian to do something that he didn’t really want, but Michael desperately wanted him to know that it wasn’t just because Caspian wanted him to…
“Cas…” he said quietly, his expression full of concern, probably masking the fondness he felt. He tried opening his mouth to say something else, maybe to try and reassure him that it wasn’t just Caspian imagining things, that he wanted to be closer, too.
Before he could think of something else to say that might sound meaningless, or just forced, he leaned down, placing his hand against Caspian’s warm, flushed cheek to hold him in place as he kissed him. Yes, he was aware that this might not be something Caspian wanted at that moment, but more than just words, Michael wanted to show him.
In that single kiss, he wanted to convey all of his loneliness and longing and affection he felt for Caspian. Caspian who he knew now more than ever was his light in the dark.
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Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2016 9:03 am
He felt - young.
It was a terrible feeling, one that he had tried not to let overtake him ever since he had started growing closer to Michael. Caspian had never wanted to feel like a child to him, had never wanted to let that ten year gap in their ages be the defining characteristic in a friendship that had become, overtime, the most important one that he had. He hated the fact that it was even an issue in his mind, because Caspian had never followed the standard rules before, so why was it such a big to him now?
But it was less about the fact that Caspian thought it was an issue - and more, he surmised, the fact that he thought Michael believed it to be one. Michael, who had said before that he was too old, or made comments that bordered on self deprecation about his age.
Ten years was a long time. But in the grand scheme of things, not nearly enough that it should have mattered between them.
Caspian felt pressure on his shoulder, startling his eyes open. He allowed himself to be pushed onto his back, staring up with an expression of mingled wariness and confusion and anxiousness, his pulse too rapid, his face too red. His gaze, which was not looking at Michael, as though he was afraid to see the expression on his face, slowly lifted, his eyes pained.
But Michael’s hand was on his cheek, and his lips were on Caspian’s, and the world, once again, had dimmed to nothing around him.
At first he froze, too stunned to react, his eyes wide; but then they fell slowly shut, Caspian arching up into the kiss, his heart beating so fast it was painful in his chest. He slid his own hand up, fingers cradling Michael’s face, his neck, his jaw, and kissed him back, trying to put as much emotion into it as Michael was giving him. His other hand rose and mirrored the first, and it was not the soft, tender kisses of the night before, but something warmer, firmer, an edge of what seemed almost to be desperation on Caspian’s side in them, and a heady rush of feelings from Michael on the other.
When he drew away at last, he found that he’d pushed himself up a little to meet Michael, his chest heaving for breath, Caspian’s face scarlet. He didn’t try and move away, his hand still on Michael’s face, his other pressing into the sheets to keep his position; his breathing felt shaky even to his own ears, Caspian swallowing hard.
“M…”
His voice didn’t work. He tried again, dizzy and overwhelmed.
“Michael.”
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Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2016 5:37 pm
Caspian’s hand was on his face, his fingers soft and warm against his already heated skin. He felt completely out of sorts when it came to Caspian. Just like he’d thought to himself multiple times before, he realized how new this was for him, how he was constantly afraid of messing something up.
But Caspian…
He was okay with Michael being close. He was okay with the kisses that were so strange for Michael if only because he was not used to putting any of his heart into anything physical. His heart and emotions and feelings had been lost under the waves of a past he didn’t want to remember, much less relive, but Caspian was slowly drawing pieces of him back out, pieces that had been locked away.
If would be a lie if he said he wasn’t afraid. Afraid of himself, afraid of what he might do, afraid of where he would end up. He’d been so wound up in himself that he shut people out, sometimes forcefully and cruelly. Caspian, though… had held on.
When Caspian drew back, Michael found it difficult to meet his eyes, if only because he was ashamed it took him so long to realize that this was what Caspian wanted and was okay with; something that was so similar to what he wanted and was okay with as well.
He looked into those blue eyes filled with emotion, trying to catch his own breath. He hadn’t pulled away from where he braced himself, so he was still half leaning over Caspian as he shook his head and drew in a breath.
“Me too,” he said softly, trying to figure out how to best put these strange feelings into words. “I’ve wanted to get closer to you too, Cas… I just… I thought you… if you realized this was a bad idea, I’d understand,” he tried to explain, knowing that Caspian would probably think he was ridiculous for thinking in such a way, but he couldn’t help it. Not when he’d thought this way for so long.
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Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2016 8:43 pm
Me too.
It was like a breath of fresh air, like a cool breeze across his overheated skin. Caspian stared up at Michael, hardly daring to believe it, his pulse rapid and his heart feeling as though it was about to burst out of his chest it was beating so loudly and so fast.
I’ve wanted to get closer to you too.
He knew the reasoning well enough; it was not as if Michael had made it a secret of his attempts at getting Caspian to leave him, and yet Caspian, in all his stubbornness and pride, had refused. And that stubbornness had morphed from a simple curiosity to something much, much deeper; something more profound, more meaningful, intricate.
Caspian swallowed hard, giving a small, startled, shaky laugh that tapered into something else. He looked up at Michael through eyes that spoke nothing but sheer affection, overly bright, his cheeks still feverishly red, and the laughter died away as quickly as it had come, Caspian’s expression growing serious, and warm all at once.
“Come here,” he said softly, shakily, his voice trembling; and tilted his head up again, his hands cradling his jaw, feeling the scratchy stubble beneath his palms and fingers. He didn’t care; in fact, he found he rather liked the unshaven roughness, which was not the usual neat, tidy appearance that Michael usually had. Caspian lay back a little and drew Michael down with him, pressing his mouth against his warmly.
It could not be true that Michael wanted him too, and yet -
-and Michael was telling him that it was. And it made his heart expand ten sizes in his chest.
Michael had put his emotion into his kiss, and now Caspian was giving his own, slowly and softly, encouraging without words and without pressure, the desire that had flickered through him for days and had only found an outlet within the last few moments.
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Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2016 9:49 pm
It was a very liberating; feeling wanted and cared for, and not just in the physical sense, despite the obvious physical nature of their touches and kisses, but also emotionally. Michael knew he would have to take the time to get used to the feeling, but for now he thought he very much liked it.
He went willing when Caspian pulled him close again, his hands on his face, his lips warm and soft against his own. Michael had never expected a chance meeting to turn into something so strong so quickly. This was not just a mentorship or close friendship any more, but something beyond that. Now it was only a matter of waiting to see if that flame would kindle itself into a permanent place in their lives, or if the delicate, almost shy passion would burn itself out.
“Michael!” he heard the annoyed chirp of Peter’s voice from the other side of his bedroom door, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Which was stupid, because he wasn’t even doing anything wrong. It was just… new and… usually Peter wasn’t there if he had anyone over… not that he’d had anyone over well before actually meeting Caspian, but still!
“Are you going to make breakfast or what? I am not having leftover Chinese. And you’ve been gone for the whole weekend and left me on my own. You owe me, or I’m telling mom and dad that we had to file a missing persons report on you. And that your car got towed.”
Michael groaned, the kiss already broken, but he settled with burying his face against Caspian’s neck. He’d almost forgotten that Peter was still there. Oops.
“Give me a break…” he mumbled against Caspian’s shoulder, shaking his head and grumbling about how Peter should clearly just move back to their parents’ house.
After a moment he pulled himself back, giving Caspian a sympathetic frown. “Are you hungry…?”
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Posted: Tue Sep 13, 2016 11:11 am
He was starting to lose himself in the kiss, starting to let himself relax for the first time since Michael had gone missing several days ago. Caspian allowed one of his hands to slide up, sinking itself into Michael’s hair, feeling his fingers trembling still, but not caring, his head spinning -
Peter’s voice was like a douse of icy water above his head. Caspian let out a hiss and almost smacked his head against Michael’s as they snapped apart. If there was any cause for a spatula slapping, it was here and now, and he all but glowered at the door, profoundly grateful that it was, in fact, locked and that Peter had not just decided to barge in right then and there, not when…
Michael had buried his face in Caspian’s neck and it tickled pleasantly, his heart still in his throat. Caspian slid his arms around his shoulders, holding on securely until Michael drew back.
His finger slid across Michael’s jaw, and then ghosted briefly over the frown on his face, Caspian sighing.
“Might as well get up,” he groaned, though truth be told, he would have been just fine with this for quite some time. Caspian was silent for a moment, and then said, his tone a mixture of wary hesitance,
“Do...you think that we could...not tell your brothers, about. Uh. This?”
His face was deepening in color as Caspian hastily added, with a slight grimace, ‘Not that I’m ashamed of anything, I just...am not really sure I can take Peter’s comments right about now, as delightful as his company is most of the time.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 13, 2016 7:14 pm
Michael, who had tensed at his brother’s words from the other side of the door, seemed to settle a little as Caspian reached up to touch his face and very lightly over his mouth. After what they’d been through, Michael still didn’t see what Caspian saw in him that made him want to stay, but he was glad that he was there.
“Don’t worry,” he said, and despite the frown he still wore, his voice was slightly teasing, “I don’t kiss and tell.” The redness in Caspian’s face was endearing, but he could understand that his brothers, especially Peter, could be a lot to handle.
He was tempted to lean back down and kiss Caspian again, when Peter’s voice came, muffled from the other side of the door, “I’m not getting any younger!”
Michael groaned again, and pulled himself back away from Caspian, holding his hands out to him to help him up, and then reaching out to help adjust the slightly twisted shirt he was borrowing from Peter. He tried to hide a small grin that came to his lips.
“This looks ridiculous on you… you’d probably be better off just leaving clothes here, you know,” he suggested, pushing back the covers so he could prepare to climb out of bed, himself. “Or some new clothes might be good.”
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