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 Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 12:41 pm
Mid-September 2016
Michael told himself that he never felt this lighthearted and actually happy before, but that wasn't the complete truth. He had been lonely as a child, but happy and cheerful, and while he lost that innocence and cheer after becoming an officer, he finally wasn't alone. For a few years, at least.
Now, with this strange new developing relationship he had with Caspian, Michael didn't really know how to react to the fact that not only did he no longer feel alone, but thought he was actually happy, too.
Yes, he realized that this was probably a horrible idea, because they would always have to deal with the stigma of being ten years apart in age, but this wonderful, almost euphoric feeling he had when he was around Caspian was hard to walk away from, and even more difficult to ignore.
"Hey," he greeted casually as Caspian shut the door to his house behind him, despite the strange fluttering in his chest was anything but casual. Michael was waiting for him, leaning with his back up against his car, his elbows up on the hood, and one ankle crossed over the other. He was wearing a simple grey tee shirt with the design of an anchor turning into birds, jeans, and sunglasses perched on the top of his head since he was currently standing in the shade of the town homes.
Everything about Michael was the same as it always was, except for his slightly anxious expression, and the fact that Michael's fingernails were now colored deep indigo.
"I was just gonna leave my car here and we can walk to get lunch if you're okay with that," he said, wondering if Caspian would think he was doing too much. Or maybe he would think he was making fun of Caspian, which he definitely wasn't, but it wasn't as though Michael had ever had his nails painted before. —————— He was stupidly happy.
It almost felt like he shouldn’t be; as though being too happy meant that someone else was less happy or that if he was too happy, then there’d be something terrible to counteract it, like Michael changing his mind or something happening to Peter or Cassie, or them being attacked by a youma in the middle of a date.
But he didn’t want to think about what could possibly go wrong, only what was right; only what was right, and right here in front of him, Michael a strong, solid presence as Caspian stepped outside of his townhouse, making sure the door was locked and he had his keys. He felt a flutter of pleasure at the mere sight of his boyfriend, standing relaxed against his car, the bright sunlight reflecting off the reddish bits of his mahogany hair.
“Hi,” said Caspian, stepping across the sidewalk to greet him, half bouncing in his step, though he tried not to look too eager. He reached out, sliding his hands against Michael’s sides and curling his fingers in the fabric, looking up at him with clear affection in his gaze. “You’re definitely a sight for sore eyes.”
He was about to push up onto his tiptoes and kiss him in greeting, but stopped, his eyes caught by the flash of color he’d seen on Michael’s hands. Caspian’s gaze flickered across his fingers, the deep indigo color startlingly different and entirely unexpected to be seen on someone as stiff and neat and presentable as Michael Gallo.
His eyes moved to Michael’s face, Caspian’s eyes wide and confused, brows drawing together.
“What is that?” he asked, and his tone was not angry, nor upset, simply flummoxed, as though there was a puzzle piece he couldn’t quite discern the placement of.—————— Michael smiled softly as Caspian made his way down the steps, practically skipping over to him to put his hands against his sides, fingers digging lightly into the fabric of his shirt. It was nice to see Caspian looking so happy, as if the sadness and loneliness had taken a second place to how he felt now, although Michael was certain it would take much longer for Caspian to truly no longer feel lonely. Or at least that was how Michael felt about himself, even if he was happy being with Caspian.
The look in Caspian’s eyes shifted as he caught sight of the painted nails Michael sported, and while there was still a hint of anxiety in his expression that he was doing too much, he smiled confidently down at his boyfriend.
“I was so mad the other night when you told me how people would make fun of you for how you dress or look,” he admitted, hoping it didn’t sound stupid out loud when it made so much sense in his head. “Painting your nails or wearing bright colors and jewelry or dying your hair has nothing to do with whether you’re girlish or whatever, but everything to do with who you are as a person. You’re a good person. And I like you, Caspian. I like everything about you, even your stubbornness. Especially your stubbornness, as horrible as it can be. I’m glad you didn’t give in to what people might have said about you and you kept… being you.”
The fondness in his eyes only grew brighter as he spoke, but the wariness still lingered, hoping Caspian wasn’t going to take the gesture the wrong way.
“I’m happy to call you my boyfriend. Proud even, because you’ve been through more than anyone should have to, just to be yourself.”
He tried his hardest not to give into his own anxiousness, but his smile eventually faltered slightly under Caspian’s confused and curious gaze. “If it’s too much…” he mumbled, having yet to move his arms from where he rested against the car. —————— He stared first at Michael’s hand, then up at Michael’s face, Caspian’s eyes widening the more that Michael spoke. The words were there, he could hear them, and yet - and yet to believe that anyone could have done such a thing, just for him -
“How are you real?” Caspian blurted out, and then blushed scarlet, his hands still holding onto Michael’s shirt at the sides, his eyes fixed on Michael’s face. “That’s...no one has ever…”
He couldn’t even get the proper words out, stumbling over each one. Caspian stammered for a few more seconds, awkward and unclear, and then finally stopped, swallowed hard, and tried to breathe normally.
It was not easy. Not when Michael was standing here, in front of him, with indigo on his nails. Michael John Gallo, former military, knight of Jupiter, was standing here in front of Caspian Lyons with painted nails because he’d wanted to show his support to his boyfriend, who’d always been taunted because of it.
It seemed impossible. It seemed completely impossible, yet the proof was right there in front of Caspian, plain as day.
He felt his head spinning, Caspian stepping forward. Heedless of their surroundings, he tilted forward and rested his forehead against Michael’s chest, exhaling a breath that felt shaky in his lungs.
“You’re wonderful,” he mumbled, his face flushed. “I like you so much it makes me dizzy.”—————— Michael stared down at Caspian, his smile faltering even more, but not because he didn’t feel happy around Caspian, but because the sincere, almost unbelieving words and expression on Caspian’s face made his chest tighten almost painfully.
He hadn’t realized how much it would mean to Caspian for him to do something so simple as painting his nails, but it seemed as though Caspian had felt more alone than Michael had originally thought.
It was a thought that broke his heart, and had him moving his arms from the car to wrap around Caspian’s shoulders and sink his hand into Caspian’s dark hair as he pressed his forehead against his chest.
“Hey, hey…” he said softly, smiling sadly down at him. “I’m not sure about being wonderful, but I am real. Right here,” he promised, his fingers lightly massaging Caspian’s scalp and brushing absently at his hair. Michael could care less who was around them; all that mattered was making sure Caspian knew he was there and safe and wanted.
“And that’s not good,” he half joked, “Getting dizzy... Maybe we should drive, after all.” Yes, it had been meant to support Caspian, but Michael didn’t realize until just then how much he apparently needed it.
“You’re the one who is wonderful, Cas,” he added softly, leaning down as best he could so he could press a kiss to the top of Caspian’s head, still holding him close as he did so. Since he was not really one for showing affection, he wondered if all the kisses and embraces were too much, but Caspian had yet to tell him otherwise. —————— He felt Michael’s arms encircle him, drawing him closer, one hand brushing through his hair. Caspian’s hands slid until he could link them together against the small of Michael’s back, holding onto him tightly. Stupidly, ashamedly, he felt his eyes p***k at the edges, and blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the ridiculous emotions that kept tugging at him, but it was hard to pretend he didn’t feel anything when Michael was the cause of them all in the best way possible.
“No,” Caspian mumbled, his voice muffled by Michael’s shirt. “You are wonderful. You’re the best guy I know.”
He liked the soothing way that Michael’s fingers kept threading through his hair, wanting more of it because it made little tingles go up and down his spine. There was a shift of bodies as Michael stooped, and Caspian felt Michael kiss the top of his head, something that made him smile. He took a step back and tilted his head up to look at Michael, sliding his hands back to rest on his hips, looping his fingers shyly through the belt loops of his jeans.
“Thank you,” said Caspian quietly. “You make me happy.”
He tugged a little absently on the loops, then looked up again, a little hesitant smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Bend down again,” he said softly, “So I can give you a better thanks.”
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 12:46 pm
For Michael, it was pretty sad that he was the best guy that Caspian knew, which made him wonder just how many horrible people Caspian ended up having to deal with so far in his life. If anything it made Michael want to hold on tighter to Caspian, emotionally as well as physically.
He had no issue with Caspian grabbing onto his belt loops. If anything, he encouraged it by moving his arms out of the way. He kept one hand against Caspian’s face as he pulled back to look up at him, that small smile being drawn out again. It made Michael’s heart beat faster, and his fingers brushed Caspian’s hair back behind his ear as he leaned down again.
“Yes, your majesty,” he said teasingly, tilting his head just slightly because he had a feeling he knew what Caspian wanted to do to show his thanks. It was almost beyond his comprehension to think back to the day he first met Caspian. Not even as Remus, because that was something completely different, almost. But meeting this obnoxious troublemaker in the middle of the night on his way home should not have been the turning point in his life.
“You’re lucky I’m not mean to you, otherwise I would just deny you until you have to climb up, yourself,” he said, a small grin on his face. “All I want is for you to be happy, Cas…” —————— That teasing lilt to Michael’s voice made the small smile on Caspian’s face widen a little, and he tilted his head into Michael’s hand, feeling the warmth of his palm against his cheek. The tender gesture of shifting hair behind his ear had Caspian’s heart thumping stupidly in his chest, and he liked that grin that Michael now wore, his stomach doing flip flops.
“That would be really mean,” Caspian murmured, as he reached up a hand, sliding it behind Michael’s neck, fingers brushing the nape. “But I wouldn’t object to you picking me up.”
Before he could be embarrassed at his own forwardness, Caspian pushed up onto his tiptoes and brought his mouth to Michael’s, kissing him gently. It was a soft, slow kiss, Caspian keeping one hand holding onto Michael’s belt loop, the other sliding up to the back of his head, through the short strands of his hair.
He kept it mostly brief and chaste, considering they were in public, but there was a hint of heat to it. Caspian lowered himself back down onto his feet as he drew back, the hand on Michael’s head sliding to rest on his chest instead, Caspian’s cheeks a little flushed, his eyes half-lidded as he looked up at him.
“Boyfriend,” he said softly, as though it still was something unbelievable - and it was. “That’s your thank you for now.”—————— He liked the smiles from Caspian, and he was glad that whatever he was saying or doing made Caspian react in that way. The light flush of his cheeks were nice, too. Public or not, Michael still kissed him back when he stepped up on his tip toes, very much enjoying the hand to the back of his head. Actually he liked any time that Caspian touched him.
The kiss was also nice, and Michael was pleased that it was soft and slow and just hinting at something more. It made him want more, but he knew he needed to restrain himself, at least for now.
“You’re welcome,” he said back, just as softly, but he was smiling, his hand brushing again at Caspian’s hair, before finally slipping away and reaching to take hold of Caspian’s hand that was attached to his belt loop, gently pulling it away and lifting his hand to his mouth to press a kiss against.
“Aren’t you hungry? I was thinking the little sandwich shop a couple blocks down. We can split a sub or something,” he suggested, not letting go of Caspian’s hand as he finally straightened and stepped away from his car. “Or if you feel like something else. We could get it to go and head to the park or something,” he added with a small shrug. It wasn’t as though he had anything to do that day. Or all summer. He liked being a teacher sometimes, if only for the summer break. —————— There were probably people around, going up and down the sidewalk behind them, but Caspian couldn’t bother caring at present; not when he was still overwhelmed by Michael’s small, poignant gesture of support and care. He had a strong desire to kiss him again, and had to resist the urge to do just that.
His cheeks were pink as Michael kissed his hand, Caspian’s fingers curling against his, catching sight of the indigo nails again. It made his stomach feel all fluttery, his heart skipping a beat - and there was more that Caspian wanted to say, everything that he couldn’t say, not now, not yet.
Things like how he couldn’t get Michael out of his mind. Or how he felt happy with him every single time they were together. Or how Michael was the last thing that Caspian thought of before he went to sleep and one of the first things he thought of when he woke.
He couldn’t say any of that, but he felt it, welling in his chest, a warmth expanding outwards every second he spent with Michael.
Caspian laced their fingers together, sliding his between Michael’s so that their hands were pressed palm to palm and he could walk easily beside him. His other hand tucked into the pocket of his black jeans.
“A sub and the park sounds nice,” he said with a smile, bumping his shoulder playfully against Michael’s arm. “How’s your day so far? How are your brothers?”—————— Michael was more than happy to let Caspian lace their fingers together. In fact, he was expecting it, and kept his hand out for him to do so. It was such a simple thing that he never thought he would enjoy doing, and yet, he enjoyed it very much with Caspian.
“My day’s been okay. Kind of boring,” he admitted as Caspian bumped against his shoulder and he snorted when Caspian didn’t manage to get Michael to even budge much. If he wasn’t afraid of knocking Caspian down, he would have reciprocated the gesture.
“Peter’s fine. He was taking a break from his research and stayed home to play video games, I think. Chris is probably not doing too great since he didn’t pitch well last night. Or for the whole season. Critics keep talking about how it was a bad decision to have him sign a long contract,” he explained almost absently as he walked hand in hand with Caspian, not even bothering to care about the looks they might be getting.
“What about you? Please tell me you had more than a poptart this morning,” he groaned softly, wondering if he would just have to come over every morning and make sure Caspian had at least something in his stomach other than a poptart. —————— ”I feel like all that kid does is go to the library and do research,” said Caspian with a small snort. “It’s nice to know that he does actual things like play video games and not just look up what sort of youma is which.”
He took pleasure most of the time in teasing Peter, but it was because, underneath it all, Caspian actually did like him - except for that time that Peter had barged in while he and Michael had had their moment on the couch that one time. And the time when he had barged in on Michael and Caspian tangled up in bed together, the memory of this bringing a little flush of pink to Caspian’s cheeks.
He gave a little cough, cleared his throat, and said, “I didn’t watch the game, but that sucks that he didn’t pitch well. Poor guy.”
Chris had seemed like a nice person upon the brief occasion that Caspian had met him, though admittedly his mind had been elsewhere at the time. A part of him hoped that Chris had not yet discovered about him and Michael, Caspian casting a glance up at his boyfriend.
“I’ll have you know I had a sandwich for breakfast,” Caspian informed him, with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances. He gave Michael’s hand a squeeze. “A bacon and egg and tomato sandwich. It was delicious. After that, I just sorta lounged, didn’t really do much. Until you came, that is,” he added with a little grin. “And now my day is much better.”
Caspian fell silent for a moment; thinking of Michael’s brothers had made him think of something else, a moment in time that had passed some time ago.
“Hey,” he said hesitantly, looking at the bright yellow All-Star shoes he was wearing, Caspian’s other hand still in his pocket. “Can I ask you something?”
He took a little breath. “That...that time. On the couch, when we had dinner and pie and were watching Pacific Rim. Before Peter came in...were you about to kiss me…?”
He didn’t know why it was so important for him to know the answer to this question now, of all times, but it was.
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 12:58 pm
“Peter…” Michael thought with a small grimace, “Once he sets his mind to something, he’s probably just as stubborn as you are. I don’t know what he expects to learn, but I would prefer he keep his nose in books instead of going out to fight.” He’d had that conversation with Peter before, about how he wished he would not fight, but how he would support him if that was his choice. That didn’t mean he had to like it, though.
He was a little surprised about what Caspian admitted to having for breakfast, but nodded in approval. “Good,” he hummed, pleased for now that it wasn’t just poptarts that he was continuing to eat.
Michael was glad that he was able to make Caspian’s day better, probably just as being around Caspian made Michael’s day better, but he didn’t say that out loud. He was still concerned about sounding too needy or desperate to be around him, when really all Michael wanted to do was stay by his side and see him happy and cared for.
Of course, the mention of the night that seemed so long ago had him looking down at Caspian curiously, although his expression was somewhat wary, if only because he didn’t know if that had been a bad idea, to try and kiss Caspian. It wasn’t until a little while later that they actually kissed. After the whole incident where he up and disappeared like the coward he was.
“Yes,” he said softly, seeing no reason to try and hide it. “I wanted to. I’m sorry if that was too soon or… upset you,” he quickly apologized, although since they were kissing quite often now, he wasn’t too concerned about it. He was just glad he hadn’t done something too horribly wrong that might have scared Caspian away.
“That’s kind of weird, huh?” he winced, wondering if maybe he should not have shared that. “I’d wanted to kiss you before, too… but…” Michael mumbled, feeling a little out of sorts, almost like he was being called out. —————— ”You’re not calling us similar, are you?” Caspian deadpanned, though he was a little amused all the same. “That kid is smart, though, I think he’ll be okay. Though really it’s better if he keeps his nose in books and not outside. Maybe if you’re lucky he’ll stick to research instead of like, you know, experimenting or something.”
He still didn’t know why it was so important for him to know the answer to this question. Maybe it was because at the time, Caspian had thought it impossible that Michael had wanted him as much as he’d wanted Michael. He’d thought it his own head making something out of nothing, and yet a part of him had been so desperate for that not to be the case.
Caspian stopped walking slowly, turning to look up at Michael. There was a little blush on his cheeks, his teeth worrying at his lower lip again.
“It’s not weird,” he said quietly. “I...really….really wanted to kiss you back then. I’d wanted to kiss you for weeks, and if Peter hadn’t interrupted…”
He trailed off, still biting his lip, and then took a breath. Caspian pulled his hand out of his pocket and slid to stand in front of Michael, reaching for his other hand to twine their fingers together, his eyes raising to meet Michael’s.
“Seems we just kept missing each other back then,” he said softly. “But we found each other now, right?”—————— ”Maybe I am,” Michael deadpanned right back. “He’s stubborn. You’re stubborn. Troublesome, reckless, etcetera etcetera…” The amusement was there as well, and Michael gave Caspian’s hand a small squeeze to make sure he knew he didn’t mind. Caspian was right about Peter being able to handle himself, though. At least that was what Michael hoped. All he could ever do was hope that things turned out okay.
It took him a moment to realize that Caspian had stopped walking, and he immediately stopped as well, turning to make sure he hadn’t said anything to upset him, or if there was anything else that upset him, but after a quick glance around them and the appearance of color in Caspian’s cheeks, Michael settled on it being something he’d said or done instead of any external source.
Brows furrowed in concern, Michael opened his mouth to try and maybe explain himself, figuring that Caspian did think it was weird and probably a little creepy. But his expression soon smoothed out as Caspian explained that he’d wanted to kiss him for weeks.
Michael let out a small breath he didn’t realize he was holding as Caspian stood in front of him and took both his hands, their eyes meeting. He stared down at him for a few moments, still seeming a little skeptical that he hadn’t said something to upset Caspian, before finally renting and allowing a small smile to tug at his lips.
“Yeah. Yeah we have,” he agreed, and then gave a small shake of his head. “Something tells me that I would have found you eventually, whether I liked it or not. Now, it might have been too late for you to have any interest in me, but…” Because with someone as good and kind as Caspian, he was sure that there were more people out there who could make him happy, even now there could be someone better for him than Michael. —————— He knew, in spite of Michael’s teasing, that were it not for his stubbornness Caspian might not have kept beside Michael. Or maybe that was not how life worked; Caspian had the distinct feeling that regardless of that stubbornness, he would have stayed, because there was something about Michael that drew him in, and had since their first few meetings. Maybe not their very first, but certainly from the second, and then the third, and that was all it had taken. He’d already been hooked.
Just like he was hooked now, stuck completely with Michael with no desire nor ability to walk away.
Caspian shook his head, and a small anxious look was on his face. He knew they were going to eat, and he knew they should keep walking, but Caspian held onto both of Michael’s hands, their fingers twined together, so that his smaller ones fit into the spaces left by Michael’s larger ones.
As though they were meant to fit there.
“You always think so little of yourself,” Caspian said softly, sounding distressed. He took a step closer, and looked up at Michael, his eyes worried. He didn’t like hearing that sad note to Michael’s voice; it made his heart ache in a way that he wasn’t used to, in a way that made him wish, that for just a few minutes, Michael might see things differently.
“I chose you, Michael,” said Caspian quietly. “I want you, and only you. I don’t want anyone else, you’re all I need.”—————— Michael stared, wide eyed in concern, more from the distress in Caspian’s voice than anything else. He didn’t like seeing the worry in Caspian’s eyes, and he glanced guiltily away when he realized that it was his own fault that Caspian was worried. Worried about him, which Michael thought was a waste of time but he didn’t dare say that right then.
“I know,” he said softly, giving Caspian’s hands a gentle squeeze and hoping that was enough to convince him. But despite all that, Michael knew how easy it would have been for him to walk away from Caspian that night they first crossed paths as civilians, to just ignore him and let him get into trouble on his own. And after that he didn’t have to help Remus, for the sake of giving away his own identity.
It would have been easy to shut himself out of ever talking to Caspian.
So why? Other than the fact that he would have probably stopped to talk to anyone in either situation, it was a huge coincidence that they even ever crossed paths again. Right?
“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbled, daring to glance back at Caspian, heat rising to lightly color his cheeks. “I know you do. That’s why I’m your boyfriend, right?”
He shuffled a little awkwardly and tugged gently on Caspian’s hands, the sincere concern in Caspian’s eyes flustering him a little. “Come on, you’re hungry, aren’t you? I’ll get you whatever you want.” —————— ”Yes,” said Caspian meaningfully, as though he could somehow impress this in Michael’s brain. ”Yes, Michael. That’s why I’m your boyfriend. Because I want you, because I like you, and because you’re the guy I want to be with more than anyone else. Not because you’re a last choice or because there was no one better, but because the best person for me was you.”
He needed Michael to understand this simple fact - that he had not simply considered Michael because of a whim, or because he’d thought it through casually and decided he was the only choice. But because he could connect to him like no one else; because Michael saw him as he was, because they needed each other.
Because every day his feelings grew stronger, until Caspian couldn’t ever think of parting from them.
He gave Michael’s hands a squeeze and then let go of one so that he could slide to walk beside Michael instead of in front of him. Caspian leaned over and pressed his forehead into Michael’s arm, bumping into him a little ungracefully, but just wanting the closeness.
“Turkey,” he said, after a minute. “I like turkey sandwiches.”
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 1:03 pm
The ‘yes’s that were stressed made Michael’s chest tighten. Caspian was a good person, so of course he would say something like that. He was also young and hadn’t had the opportunity to have as many experiences or meet as many people as Michael had. Michael was also completely ignoring the fact that in his thirty years, he’d never met anyone like Caspian, but what were the chances that Caspian wouldn’t meet someone else later on and regret the time he wasted…
The gentle squeeze to his hands drew him out of his thoughts, and Michael forced a small smile for Caspian’s benefit, which thankfully didn’t have to last long because Caspian had moved to walk by his side again.
“Good. I like turkey, too,” he admitted, holding Caspian’s hand a little tighter than probably was necessary.
He tried keeping the conversation light as they finished making the way to the little shop, where it was easy to be distracted from whatever was going through their heads when food was set in front of them. Michael let Caspian pick all the toppings because, let’s face it, he would probably eat anything. They got drinks as well, and chips and cookies because why not?
Their next place of destination was the park just across the street, where they were able to find a spot in the grass beneath some trees. Most of the benches were already occupied, and wouldn’t give them as much space as Michael would prefer.
“You can’t have both cookies,” he warned, making sure to watch Caspian so he wouldn’t swipe both of them. Unless he really wanted them, then Michael supposed he would just have to find a way to compromise. —————— He knew, even with his attempts at emphasizing it, that Michael likely still did not believe him. Caspian felt the frustration welling inside of him, his chest tightening as they walked side by side; a heady desire to shake Michael until he realized the truth of it all worming its way through his stomach and fluttering there.
He wanted, desperately, for Michael to see. It was an ache in his chest, one that he couldn’t let go away, curling with the feelings he felt towards Michael so that the two were intertwined together, irrevocably linked.
By the time they reached the park, Caspian had managed to relax enough to make playful banter back and forth to Michael; enough that the frustration was, at the moment, tamped down. He plunked himself down beside Michael, sitting with his legs bent beneath him as he tucked himself against his boyfriend’s side, unwilling, it seemed, to be too far away from him at present.
“Fine,” he said airily, plucking up the chocolate chip of the two. “I’ll take one and a half cookies, that’s how it works, right?”
He flashed a grin at Michael, Caspian taking a bite of his sandwich.
“Would you rather the macadamia nut or the chocolate one?”—————— Although he could feel the tension there, Michael stubbornly pretended to ignore it. He knew Caspian liked him and wanted him and all of that. That wasn’t the issue at all. He just doubted his own qualifications for being a good boyfriend, or even friend, for Caspian. The more he was with Caspian, the more he wanted to make sure he was happy, but Michael had always wondered at what point Caspian would realize his mistake.
He liked Caspian. A lot. Enough to show how stupid he thought people were for teasing him that he’d painted his nails a dark color that obviously stood out. Michael liked him, and he hoped that was very clear, but he was also Michael Gallo with all his issues and past he wasn’t ready to face and really, really hoped this wasn’t just a summer fling, where they would part ways once school started and there were other distractions.
“No, that’s not how it works,” Michael scoffed, his issues with himself pushed to the back burner for now. “I was thinking we could split them if you didn’t have a preference. But you’ll have to let me do it, because I don’t trust your halving skills,” he teased, waiting until he was certain that Caspian had swallowed the bite of his sandwich he’d just taken.
It was then that he playfully dug his fingers into Caspian’s ribs as he rested with his arm somewhat around him, Caspian already tucked up against his side.
“Don’t think I won’t fight you for them. You’ll definitely lose,” he challenged, reaching over with his free hand to pull the sandwich away from Caspian’s grasp before he dropped it on accident while his side was being attacked by Michael’s other hand. —————— The park was nicely cool, a little breeze sweeping through on a hot day so that Caspian, thankfully, didn’t feel swelteringly overheated as he did on most other days of the summer so far. It was still a little too warm for his liking, but at least he wasn’t sweating buckets.
”Is so,” said Caspian indignantly. “And I’ll have you know my halving skills are pretty damn awesome, if I do say so myself - “
The rest of his sentence was cut off, tailing into an undignified squawk as Michael’s fingers dug into his side. Caspian barely noticed that his sandwich had been taken from him, too busy swatting at Michael to make a grab for it, laughter bubbling out of him as he attempted to pry himself away from the probing hand.
“You b*****d - “ he gasped out, wriggling and squirming, and Caspian tugged at Michael’s hands, a wide grin on his face as he attempted to twist himself out of reach, which wasn’t working too well. He made a wild grab for his wrists, Caspian uncaring of his surroundings, too intent on keeping Michael from tickling him more.
“Listen - that’s playing dirty - “—————— Michael let out a triumphant laugh when he got the reaction he'd wanted from Caspian, not relenting in digging his fingers into Caspian's side, even as he tried struggling away.
"So you are ticklish! I thought you might be," he laughed again, pushing what was left of their food away from them so they wouldn't accidentally roll over onto it or knock anything into the dirt. The wild grab for his wrists were successful, but Michael tried using that to his advantage, by twisting his hands to grab onto Caspian's wrists and try pulling him across his lap.
"Hey now, all is fair in love and war," he teased as he pulled his hands away only long enough to let Caspian catch his breath before starting over again.
"I told you you'd lose against me," he said, although it was more playful than serious. As competitive as he was, he knew when to relent.—————— ”Nooooooooo - “
Caspian’s indignant screech was drowned in laughter, fighting uselessly against Michael’s hands, one of which was still digging into his side. He let out another squawk and felt Michael’s hands close around his wrists, dragging him sideways, and Caspian scrabbled to resist, finding himself half sitting in Michael’s lap now. One leg was over Michael’s, so that he was sitting facing him, his other leg shifting to mirror the first.
“I am not ticklish,” Caspian yelped, which was a blatant lie. He dragged in lungfuls of air that were interrupted by Michael grabbing onto him again, laughing helplessly as he tugged at Michael’s hands.
It was silly. Ridiculous. And wonderful, all at the same time. Caspian’s laughter wasn’t just from the tickling, but just from the sheer pleasure of being with Michael, the relaxed atmosphere bringing him enough happiness that it made his head spin with it. Seeing this side of Michael - playful, mischievous, eager - was incredibly sweet and wonderful, and Caspian tried to memorize the expression on his face, the lightness in his eyes, the bright smile that stretched wide.
All’s fair in love and war.
It was just a statement, a phrase. Michael didn’t mean anything by it, but Caspian felt the words jolt through him, felt the warmth of them, a singular one sticking out at him. His flushed face grew hotter, his heart thumping madly in his chest, and for a few seconds he forgot, quite abruptly, how to breathe, how to think.
Caspian was staring at Michael with wide eyes, still half smiling in delight, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He was still posed to stop Michael, one hand resting on Michael’s where it was at his waist, the other curled around Michael’s wrist, as though to attempt to pry him off. Their faces were mere inches apart, Caspian’s eyes fluttering.
“I’m always lost to you,” he said breathlessly.
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 1:05 pm
"That's such bullshit," Michael laughed as he pulled Caspian half into his lap as he ticked him, very much enjoying the trill of laughter coming from him. "You wouldn't be laughing if you weren't ticklish," he grinned, although he made sure not to get too carried away, pausing in his attack to let Caspian breathe whenever it seemed as though he needed to.
He paused again to laugh, smiling bright as Caspian was pulled closer, letting him grab hold of his wrists to make him think he had some kind of control over the situation. Technically he did, and Michael hoped Caspian knew he would stop if he asked him to.
Caspian's face was close to his now, flushed and bright from laughter. Michael wanted to kiss him, but was conscious of the fact that they were in public. His fingers relaxed against Caspian's waist, relenting for now in his tickle attack, allowing Caspian to hold onto his other wrist without resistance.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Michael laughed softly, casually, knowing what he probably meant, but it made his chest ache with a strange hopefulness he couldn't quite understand. "If you're lost, I'll just have to find you," he tried to purposefully play it off, ignoring the light flush in his own cheeks. —————— He couldn’t put it into words, but he felt it: a sweeping, soaring, all-encompassing sensation that seemed to permeate all of Caspian’s senses, from his head to his heart to his body. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before; gentle and warm at the same time, soft and sweet, and undeniably, unquestionably, the answer to a question he had not realized he was asking until now.
I want you for the rest of my life.
Caspian’s fingers slid across Michael’s wrist, tugging it his hand up. He turned his face and drew Michael’s wrist to his mouth, pressing his lips to the spot where his pulse beat rapidly under his skin, lingering in spite of their surroundings. A kiss to the palm next, tender and affectionate, Caspian’s eyes closed.
I think I could be happy with you forever.
He felt dazed, almost disoriented. It had not been that long; a few months at most, and yet his head was spinning, his chest tight. The words, the feelings, they were all there in his head, but slightly fuzzy, disconnected, because putting them together meant admitting something he wasn’t sure he was ready to, wasn’t even sure if he knew what it was.
Caspian’s pulled Michael’s fingers to his lips and kissed the tip of each one, the fingers that Michael had so selflessly painted because he had known it was something that Caspian was self-conscious about. His eyes fluttered back open and he looked at Michael over his hand, teeth grazing the tip of his index finger ever so lightly; the tiniest, lightest n**.
“It means you make everything better,” he said softly, and let go of Michael’s hand so that he could lift both of his own, sliding them around Michael’s shoulders. “It means if I get lost, I think you’d be the only one who could find me.”
He tilted his head against Michael’s, pressing their foreheads together, Caspian easing out a breath.
“I want to kiss you,” he mumbled, cheeks flaming. —————— A sudden breathlessness overcame Michael as Caspian looked into his eyes, his chest tight with an emotion he didn't quite recognize. He held still as Caspian lifted his wrist to his mouth, his own mouth clamped tightly shut against the sudden intake of air he felt as though he needed to take.
It was such a simple gesture, and yet it was almost ridiculously intimate when it came from Caspian. Probably because Caspian, while he was a physically affectionate person, Michael knew he didn't give his heart so openly. He'd been through so much already, closed himself off so much, that Michael knew this small gesture meant everything for Caspian.
"Cas..." he said softly, his voice tight in his throat, unable to stop his hand from trembling slightly in Caspian's grasp. He didn't know what was wrong with himself, but the way Caspian treated him so gently and with so much consideration and kindness... he felt as though the world around them faded away.
Thankfully, after Caspian finished kissing the tips of his fingers, he let Michael's hand go to place his arms around his neck, and Michael very quickly tried covering up the shaking of his hands by placing them against Caspian's waist instead.
"Of course I'd find you," he promised, his voice still thick with the emotion he wasn't able to recognize. "I'd do anything..."
Whatever else he was going to say was cut off by the gentle look in Caspian's eyes, his forehead pressed against his own. He thought he could stare into those eyes forever and feel safe and warm and... maybe even...
The soft words from Caspian drew him once again from his thoughts, and without anything else to convince him, he leaned closer to close the gap between them, heedless of the fact that they were in public.—————— It had started off so innocently.
Simple curiosity, a vague interest in why someone was the way they were. Then a more developed interest, trying to gain an understanding for specific actions that was followed by a strange sense of attachment to someone that was so far removed from himself that it was almost laughable at the differences between the two of them.
Curiosity, then interest. Then a sweet, slow attachment that had turned into a desire and want that had long since grown into a need that Caspian did not entirely understand. Michael was not some casual friend, nor some casual fling. He was what he thought of, the first person he called when he needed something or just wanted to talk, and the last person he said goodnight to before he fell asleep.
He thought he felt Michael’s hands shake, but Caspian’s own were trembling a little as he slid them against the back of Michael’s neck. He’d never been one of those people who’d wanted to be physically affectionate in public, always making faces at those people who couldn’t seem to untangle themselves from their significant other when surrounded by other people.
The park had people, full benches. But none were close enough that Caspian cared right now, and the feel of Michael’s hands on his waist, and the press of his lips was all he needed.
He sank into the offered kiss with a sigh of relief that was breathed into it, Caspian slowly slipping his arms around Michael’s neck. One hand shifted, slid into Michael’s hair and curled there, Caspian parting his lips shyly, keeping it slow and sweet but slightly more passionate, his own emotions spurring him forward so that he was trying, wordlessly, to express how he felt.
When they at last parted, Caspian’s breath was a little shaky and ragged; he pressed one more kiss to Michael’s lips, brief and warm and chaste, and then buried his face into the crook of Michael’s neck, holding onto him tightly.
“You’re warm,” he mumbled. “I like you.”—————— Michael wasn't really the type for public displays of affection. He was usually a very private person who kept to himself and didn't allow himself to let his emotions slip while in the presence of others. And yet, with Caspian it was all different. He only wanted to be closer to him, in private, in public, it didn't matter as long as Caspian wanted him, he would reciprocate.
He let the kiss linger, letting it get heated at first, but then allowing the second to simmer more, as if remembering that they were in public and people were around and they had no business knowing about he and Caspian and what they felt for each other.
It was almost a relief, and yet still disappointing, when Caspian lowered his head to his neck, despite very much enjoying the feel of Caspian's hand in his hair.
"I like you too, Cas," he said, his hands sliding around Caspian's back to rub gently. It was also a unconscious motion to keep himself from doing too much when they were around too many people.
"I know you like me, Cas... I know you want me and all that. I don't doubt you at all," he tried to explain what he'd been feeling before, knowing Caspian had the right to know. "You're too good for me. I don't deserve you." He knew he sounded like a broken record, with how many times he said it, but it still bothered him, and he couldn't quite shake his self doubt.—————— He knew the anxiety too well; and he also knew this argument of Michael’s too well. The idea that he would find someone new, that he wasn’t worth the time and attention given to him. Caspian could not say that he didn’t understand it, because he himself was still afraid that Michael would simply change his mind about it all and walk away; that the age difference between them and everything else would simply become too much.
They were simply two people who had never had this before, and right now, neither one of them was having the easiest time understanding and accepting it.
But they both, if nothing else, wanted it.
Caspian leaned back so that he could look at Michael, his arms sliding down so that he could rest his hands on Michael’s chest instead. His face was still flushed, but his eyes were filled with a warm affection that was tinged with a sadness that he couldn’t quite hide.
“I’ll show you, then,” he said quietly, and he began to disentangle himself from Michael’s lap, Caspian crawling off and brushing grass from his jeans.
“I need three hours,” said Caspian, after a moment’s contemplation. “Three hours, and then I’ll send you a text where to meet me.”—————— Michael blinked in confusion as Caspian looked at him and told him he needed three hours, anxiety welling against his will. It was the sadness in Caspian's eyes that bothered him the most. They'd been having such a good time and he'd done something to ruin it.
"Okay," he said, hoping he didn't sound as defeated as he felt. Caspian wanted to show him... something. Obviously something to show him how Caspian felt about him, but he couldn't help but feel like he was doing something wrong.
He held his hands up to make sure Caspian didn't need help to get up, and once Caspian was at his feet, Michael slowly stood up as well.
"Do... you need me to do anything? Or bring anything?" he mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant about it when he really felt a bit nervous.—————— Caspian turned to look at Michael, his expression softening. The anxiety was read easily; he knew it was there, even if Michael was trying to hide it, and Caspian felt it too, in the heartbeat that pounded against his ribs. He wasn’t sure if the spontaneous idea he’d had would even work, but he had to at least try.
His hands reached up and cradled Michael’s face in his palms, Caspian’s thumbs smoothing over his cheeks, pushing up on his tiptoes.
“Just bring yourself,” Caspian said softly. “That’s all I need.”
He leaned up, kissed Michael’s collarbone - because it was all he could reach - and then slipped away.
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