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 Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 7:09 pm
End of September 2016
The rest of the evening was mostly uneventful. Michael made sure Caspian took medicine at the appropriate times so that he wasn’t in too much pain. They’d ordered Chinese and had it delivered so that Michael wouldn’t have to leave, and Caspian wouldn’t have to get up and try to hobble around.
For the most part, the phone system worked. If Michael had to go downstairs for anything for any length of time, such as getting food ready to bring upstairs, despite his aversion to eating in bedrooms, or even when he went to shower and change into clean clothes. The latter meant that Caspian was looking at the ceiling of the bathroom the whole time, but at least he could talk to Michael if he needed to.
It might seem silly, but Michael didn’t mind. He would rather make sure Caspian was completely okay than leave him alone. He didn’t think it was childish or any horrible thing that Caspian thought it was. And Caspian didn’t have to say it out loud for Michael to know just what he was thinking. He said everything with the flushing of his cheeks and the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes.
Eventually, after making sure Caspian took the next dose of medicine he needed, they settled down to go to sleep, Michael trying to take up as little room as possible in Caspian’s bed, with Caspian curled up next to him. —————— It was, at least, a much less stressful evening than all the evenings at the hospital put together. Caspian tried not to be ridiculously dependent on Michael, but that was next to impossible; he found that every time Michael left, he experienced a terrible sense of panic that he tried to swallow down each time so that it wasn’t noticeable, using the phone system to alleviate some of the longer moments spent apart.
He was unbearably, stupidly relieved when it came time to sleep. The medication would likely cause drowsiness, and Caspian had been fighting off feeling exhausted all day, not wanting to doze and stubbornly refusing to fall asleep. But now, when it was actually a good time to go to bed, it meant that Michael was here with him, and that was the best thing about it. No more phone; the real thing was curled up beside him in his bed.
Caspian’s back was against Michael’s chest, Michael’s arm looped around him from behind, settled on his waist. Caspian had his own arm resting over Michael’s to keep it there - and, privately, just so he could hold onto him, the close proximity helping to keep his nerves at bay. The door to his room was shut and locked, just in case Cassie decided to come home early, but the curtains to Caspian’s bay window were parted in the middle, so that a sliver of silvery moonlight was cast on the floor, giving everything in the room an ethereal silver glow to it.
The fingers of his bandaged hand absently smoothed along the back of Michael’s hand, Caspian’s eyes fluttering as he struggled to stay awake a little longer.
“I’m sorry I’m so needy,” he mumbled tiredly. “I feel like you’re just...stuck with me doing stupid s**t because I’m being a baby about things.”—————— Michael yawned, turning his head away so that he wasn’t breathing directly on Caspian, because that was not cool, but turned his head back to nuzzle his face against Caspian’s hair, sighing softly through his nose at Caspian’s apologies.
“I don’t care,” he mumbled, the fingers he had around Caspian’s waist digging gently into Caspian’s shirt, as if to reassure him that he was there and not letting go. “You can be needy all you want… I’ll be here…” he promised softly, the events of the past few days quickly catching up with him. It wasn’t as though he’d been able to get that much sleep at the hospital, and while he knew his shoulder wasn’t injured as much as Caspian had been, it still was sore and throbbed painfully every so often.
“You’re not a baby,” he said as he kissed the back of Caspian’s head, his eyes falling shut as he breathed in, picking up the scent of what he finally recognized as vanilla and cinnamon underneath the soap and shampoo Caspian used. He liked it. It was calming and warm.
“I told you before, didn’t I? Jupiter knights are good at handling things like this. So don’t… don’t worry about it…” he mumbled, fading just as he knew Caspian was. —————— He could tell Michael was growing sleepy, just as Caspian was, the arm around him reassuring, as was the gentle way that Michael nosed into his hair, kissed the back of his neck. For the first time since that night with the Negaversers, Caspian could feel himself starting to relax, comforted by Michael’s continued reassurances and presence.
“Fine,” he murmured, and gave Michael’s hand a little squeeze. “I’ll try.”
He would have brought Michael’s hand up to his mouth and kissed it, but that required energy that Caspian didn’t have, his eyes falling shut as the medication and a weariness that was bone deep began to overtake him. Within a few minutes, he was asleep, blessedly out without the constant clicking of machines or checkups by the nurses who needed to take vitals.
He dreamed, at first, of nothing that he could remember, and for several hours, the night was peaceful. But the nothing twisted itself, curled and reformed until it was a leering, grinning face - Harmotome, her cruel laughter echoing in his ears like nails on a chalkboard, the sound of it reverberating up and down his spine, rattling in his chest so that every breath he drew felt like he was drinking it in.
”You see vhat I can do? Here, Remus.”
She was holding a starseed - not his own, but Sessrumnir’s, and it was glowing faintly between her fingers. He was trying to run to get to it, desperately trying to reach so that he could take it from her, but his legs were frozen in place, and his arms were stuck, chained to a wall behind him that he couldn’t break free of. And Sessrumnir was on the ground, his eyes open but unseeing, and Harmotome had the starseed in front of him.
”It is mine now,” came the whisper, and then she was squeezing, and the starseed was turning to nothing more than glittering dust that fell from her fingers, and he was screaming, he thought, or maybe just crying, but Michael was dead and he wasn’t waking up again and his starseed was gone and there was no getting it back no matter how hard he fought -
Caspian wasn’t aware of yelling, gasping and thrashing in the bed, his eyes still shut, still chained to that wall inside of his head.—————— For the first part of the night, everything was fine. Michael had finally managed to fall into the first restful sleep he’d had in days. And with Caspian curled up in front of him, his back against his chest, everything seemed to be okay.
At least that was what Michael thought.
He didn’t realize what woke him up at first. The room was dark except for the sliver of moonlight that poured in through the curtains, casing everything in a silvery glow. It took just a few moments for his own senses to catch up to him, and he realized the reason he’d woken was because of the movement and cries of distress from right beside him.
Caspian.
Michael blinked dazedly, pushing himself up with his good arm so he could lean over Caspian, his hand taking hold of his upper arm to try and wake him, but also to hold him still from thrashing as he was.
“Cas, it’s okay!” he tried calling to him, his voice just louder than a whisper, trying to get his attention, Michael’s heart pounding in his chest at the look of complete grief and distress on his face. “Caspian!”
It wasn’t uncommon for either of them to have nightmares, but Caspian was definitely having trouble sleeping the last few nights. Michael only wished that there was something he could do to put Caspian’s mind at ease. —————— He was unaware of Michael’s presence, Caspian jerking as his arm was grabbed, gasping as though he’d been stung. His eyes, still shut tightly, meant that he was still tangled in his dream - or nightmare, rather, and he could feel the chains holding him in place, but he had to get to Michael, he had to get to him before he was dead - but his starseed had already been crushed, there was no hope, there was no hope at all -
He heard his name as though underwater, Caspian struggling to tear himself out of the black mire that was creeping around his ankles, dragging him deeper and deeper into its depths. He kicked out, his legs trapped in the blankets, tears starting to slide down Caspian’s flushed, sweaty face, his teeth clenching together.
“M-Michael - “ he gasped out, but it was clear he wasn’t talking to the Michael behind him. “Michael, no, no, no, please - don’t die, don’t die - “
He was vaguely aware that someone’s warmth was behind him, Caspian trying desperately to free himself, a twisted combination of reality and nightmare confusing him into panic. With an almighty effort, he wrenched his thoughts clear and forced his eyes open, gasping and shuddering, every inch of him trembling, Caspian fighting to get the blankets off of himself, his body bucking.
“No - no - Michael - “
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 7:22 pm
It was as though Michael had been submerged into ice water, the breath being pulled from his lungs at the desperate cries of agony and despair from Caspian.
Don’t die -
He was dreaming about not himself being injured or having his life threatened, but of Michael dying. Michael felt as though he couldn’t breathe. He knew Caspian had been waking with panic attacks, but anything he might have said in the hospital had been muffled or diluted with pain medicine he was constantly being supplied with. Now, seeing Caspian like this, so genuinely terrified…
It made Michael angry. Something tearing at his insides, completely livid that the Negaverse had caused Caspian to feel like this, so completely removed from control that it would affect his dreams.
And it also made Michael feel guilty, for not being able to keep both of them out of such a traumatic situation. He could have done more to stop the two Negaverse officers. There had to have been something else he could have done.
Michael could tell that Caspian was finally waking up, but he was still terrified, trying to free himself from the blankets, trying to escape however he could.
He pushed himself up, balancing on one knee so he could take hold of Caspian’s shoulder, pushing him probably a little too roughly onto his back, the knee Michael had lifted replaced on the bed, bracing himself, probably rather bravely, above Caspian.
He tried keeping his knees close enough to Caspian’s legs to pin him from thrashing too aggressively and possibly kicking him, while his hands reached out to grab hold of Caspian’s wrists. He was careful about gripping his bandaged wrist too hard, but knew he was probably hurting him a little in the process.
“Caspian, it’s me! Michael! I’m right here!” he tried to convince him, hoping to at least stop him from flailing around so much, even if he was still disoriented. Even if Michael was hurting Caspian’s injured wrist, it was better than him hitting something on his own and causing more damage. —————— He couldn’t get the blankets off of himself; they felt like chains, keeping him trapped in place, Caspian kicking frantically with a sudden, overwhelming urge to be free of them, his eyes wide and terrified. The fingers of his good hand scrabbled at the bed, clutching the sheets, his pillow, anything he could get ahold of, as though trying to claw his way back into reality, his chest heaving with the effort of breathing at all.
Someone was near him - someone was beside him, pushing him roughly onto his back and grappling with his flailing arms until fingers encircled his wrists and pressed them securely to the bed. His legs as well - but Caspian was slowly coming back into himself, a shooting pain throbbing up and down his arm, a sharp gasp escaping him as he bucked uselessly.
And a voice - he could hear a voice above his head, familiar, achingly so, calling to him as though from a great distance.
Michael.
It felt like he’d been running for hours, sweat beading on Caspian’s brow, his face pale. Slowly, the struggling began to ease, until he’d stopped altogether, lying still beneath Michael, his heart still going a mile a minute. Caspian dragged in great, gulping breaths of air that rattled in his chest, making his throat ache with each one, and then, finally, he was quiet, except for the hiccuping sobs that started up a few seconds later.
“Michael?” he whispered painfully, but it was not a physical pain. “Michael.”—————— Finally, after what seemed like forever, Caspian finally started to settle, at least physically. His heart and emotions were probably still trying to burst out of his chest.
At some point, Michael had crossed his ankles over each other in order to keep Caspian from kicking him, and also to keep him from hurting himself, as Michael was very aware of the injury to his leg.
Once Caspian seemed to calm enough, his ankles uncrossed, and Michael released his hold on Caspian’s wrists, and then slowly lowered himself down. He shifted onto his forearms, and very carefully put his weight over top of Caspian, his arms reaching up to slide around Caspian’s shoulders, embracing him and holding him close.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Caspian’s face. “It’s okay, Cas… I’m right here. I’m not dead…”
It was strange to his own ears, promising his boyfriend that he was still alive. Of course, it was only strange to those who hadn’t been through what they’d experienced. He and Caspian had more or less watched each other die, or come very, very close to dying.
“Cas… I’m right here. I’m right here…” —————— His face was wet. Caspian became aware of this fact slowly, as though his mind was taking its time catching up to his body. His eyes were also stinging - he was crying, silently, his vision blurring, Michael’s familiar face above his wavering in and out of his sight. He blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the tears so that he could see him more clearly, a breath shuddering out of him.
He felt Michael’s arms encircle him, pulling him close, a soft kiss pressed to his face. For a moment, he was too constricted, too tangled up in his own emotions to respond, his head spinning. But then his hands began to move of their own according, starting at Michael’s sides and then sliding up to wrap around his back, Caspian’s fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt.
“I k-keep...seeing it in my head,” he whispered, and his voice came out hoarse, choked out between hiccuping sobs. “Yanking your starseed...crushing it...you d-dead and g-gone forever - “
His fingers clutched tighter, digging into Michael’s back, Caspian burying his face against Michael’s neck, wanting to inhale his scent, breathe in his aliveness.
“I don’t - “ He inhaled sharply, too sharply, almost choking on the breath. “I don’t - I can’t lose you - I can’t - “—————— Michael’s teeth grit together, the anger that he felt for what happened to them welling up inside, threatening to explode. There was no outlet for his anger, and he needed to focus on Caspian, who was obviously so upset and scared.
He could feel the tears on his face as he kissed his cheek, trying to calm him in one of the only ways he knew how. But he was also trying to calm himself. He could feel his hands tighten into fists as he circled his arms around Caspian, his shoulders tensing as he laid almost completely on top of Caspian, although he held himself up mostly so as not to crush him.
It wasn’t in his nature to seek out revenge or retribution. It was as messy business that normally caused more bad than good. But seeing Caspian so upset like this, he thought he might actually want to see the two Negaverse officers pay for what they did.
“You won’t,” he said, although it came out a bit harsher than he intended, still on edge and upset himself, but in a different way from Caspian. He quickly tried to settle himself, lowering his head to press his cheek against Caspian’s. “I’m right here. You won’t lose me.”—————— He wasn’t in the dream, he told himself, clinging to Michael. He wasn’t in that nightmare. Michael was alive, he was right here in front of him, holding him tightly as though trying to reassure Caspian that he was alive and breathing and not going anywhere.
He heard the harshness of Michael’s voice and didn’t understand it, Caspian pressing his face more securely into his neck and shoulder, keeping his eyes forced open, afraid that if he closed them again he’d see Michael dead on the ground. He could feel Michael’s cheek pressing against his own, the warmth of his skin and the slight scratchiness of his scruff against Caspian; a familiar sensation he’d grown to adore.
How fast he had grown to depend on this man, and yet it felt like forever. A few months had turned into a lifetime for Caspian, one that he needed, one that he cherished.
“Talk to me,” he whispered, his voice shaking and ragged. Caspian’s hands were unrelenting, holding tight enough that it was straining his injured hand a little.
“Please. Anything. I just - I need to hear your voice.”
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 7:24 pm
He knew he needed to calm down, that it wasn’t going to help Caspian if he let himself give in to to the anger that welled up. It was Caspian he needed to focus on, not what he would do if he ever ran into that Lieutenant and General again.
The request wasn’t so much of a surprise, but Michael, who was already lost in his own thoughts, knew that anything he might have said would have come out too harsh, his voice too taut for casual words or conversation. And yet, he couldn’t just ignore Caspian’s request. If it was just his voice he wanted to hear, he figured he could at least do that much.
“I’ve tried the new moon, tilted in the air, above a hazy tree and farmhouse cluster, as you might try a jewel in your hair.” Michael shifted a little uncomfortably, hesitating as he tried to recall the words to quietly recite.
“I’ve tried it fine with little breadth of luster, alone, or in one ornament combining with one first-water start almost shining. I put it shining anywhere I please,” he continued softly, words of a poem that had been memorized so long ago helping to calm even himself, his anger pushed aside for now. “By walking slowly on some evening later, I've pulled it from a crate of crooked trees, and brought it over glossy water, greater, and dropped it in, and seen the image wallow, the color run, all sorts of wonder follow.”
Michael finished and turned his head slightly to press another kiss against Caspian’s face, before shaking his head at himself and feeling a bit silly for everything.
“Sorry… I know that’s not what you meant,” he apologized, feeling a little anxious despite having recited to Caspian before. —————— It was a poem.
He remembered, through the haze of his nightmare clouded thoughts, Michael doing something similar - reciting to him a poem, his voice low and gentle, the words lyrical, almost reverent in their meaning. Back then, the gesture hadn’t been quite the same, but it had still been meaningful because it was when he’d just started getting to really know Michael.
And around when he’d probably started to fall for him.
Slowly, as Michael spoke, the tension in Caspian’s shoulders began to ease. He let the melodic feel of each line ease into him, as though he was being submerged in warmth and security; as though they physically surrounded him, kept him from danger. It was, even with the sort of mindset he had right now, an incredibly beautiful poem, Caspian thought, and his grip on Michael slowly began to loosen, so that it was less of a desperate grasp.
As Michael shifted back to kiss his cheek, Caspian caught the self-conscious note to his voice, and gave the smallest shake of his own head, Caspian sliding one of his hands up to rest on Michael’s chest, above his heart.
“It was perfect,” he mumbled, his voice still ragged, and Caspian swallowed hard, his eyes fluttering. He curled the fingers of his injured hand in the side of Michael’s shirt and held on, his hands still trembling.
“You’re too good to me,” Caspian murmured, his heart rate slowly going back to normal. “I’ve never met anyone like you in my life.”—————— He could feel Caspian relaxing slightly, his grip loosening so that he wasn’t holding so tightly to his shirt. It wasn’t much, but he thought it might be something better than just… talking about the weather or other things that might have ended up upsetting Caspian even more.
Michael frowned softly, wondering if Caspian could feel the way his heart was beating madly in his chest as he placed his hand over his heart.
“I have a good memory,” he mumbled softly in explanation. “Liking to read and being able to memorize poetry wasn’t exactly a selling point for joining the Navy, though.” There was a hint of shame in his voice, as though he’d ingrained in himself that it was a flaw that he had instead of a strength. If anything, the fact that he had only ever revealed this to Caspian proved how useless it was.
He shook his head again, leaning down to press a soft, warm kiss against Caspian’s lips. He could feel the trembling of his fingers, and he wished there was more he could do besides just stay there with him. Michael opened his mouth to maybe try and explain why it was Caspian who was good to him, but the words didn’t come.
Instead, the words that slipped out should have been obvious all along. “I love you.” —————— He knew speaking of the Navy was hard for Michael, Caspian’s expression softening a little, helping to ease some of the ache in his own heart. He spread his fingers on Michael’s chest, feeling the heart that beat beneath, and let the rhythm of it soothe his thoughts, his mind, his shaking body.
“That’s funny,” he mumbled, his other hand absently toying with Michael’s shirt. “Liking to read and memorizing poetry is a big selling point for me.”
He felt the shift of Michael above him, and then Michael was kissing him softly, Caspian’s eyes finally falling shut against it, the warmth of his mouth and the tenderness of it like a balm to his soul. His hand slid up Michael’s chest and came to rest on his cheek instead, fingers fluttering against Michael’s jaw, feeling the scrape of stubble and knowing it was him, that it was his boyfriend, his favorite person.
Stupidly, he felt himself tear up again, Caspian swallowing hard, his eyes prickling. A few tears slid out of the corners of his eyes and tracked down his face, his breathing unsteady, and Caspian cradled Michael’s face in his hand, looking up at him from under wet lashes.
“I love you,” he said softly, “You’re the only one I want.”
He leaned up just a little and pressed his lips to Michael’s jaw before resting back again, Caspian’s fingers brushing along the spot he’d just kissed.
“I know you haven’t shaved because you’ve been with me,” he murmured. “But I do like it when you have a bit of scruff.”
A meaningless sentiment, all things considered, but the talking was safe. It was something Caspian could focus on, that would take his mind away from the nightmares, his gaze tracing Michael’s tenderly.
“I love that you love me,” he said, because he couldn’t help himself.—————— ”I thought I was already sold to you,” he half joked as Caspian leaned up to press a kiss against his jaw. He could see the shimmer of tears in the faint moonlight, and he shifted his hand to reach up and gently brush them away, his hand sinking into Caspian’s hair and pushing it back behind his ear.
He frowned, but it was soft as Caspian commented on him slacking when it came to shaving, although the fact that Caspian seemed to like it, well… he supposed it wasn’t too bad. Maybe he could consider just trimming his facial hair instead of shaving it all off… It would be a big change to what he was used to, but he was slowly getting more used to the facial hair after having met Caspian.
“I know you love me,” he said back, shifting again, so he could try and relieve some of the pressure he was putting onto his shoulder. He would have liked to stay like he was, lying over top of Caspian, but it was growing more painful by the minute.
Eventually, Michael shifted, pushing himself up and pulling his knee from where he rested over top of Caspian and settled back down on his side, his bad arm reaching to rest over Caspian’s chest, his fingers picking lightly at the fabric.
“I like it when you have less clothes on,” he mumbled back, once again only half serious, but also trying to keep it up with distracting Caspian from whatever he’d been thinking.
“I like poetry… literature was my favorite subject, but I was good with math, and wanted to be like my father, so engineering was a logical choice. I like engineering too, but… sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I wasn’t so… blinded by what I thought I wanted…” —————— He couldn’t help but laugh a little, hiccuping through the tears he was trying not to cry, except it was useless. “You were,” Caspian admitted. “You were sold to me a long time ago, when you let me stay with you.”
If he thought about it, the process had been so natural and so gradual that by the time the realization had come to him, it had been more of an understanding than revelation. He’d started falling in love, little by little, until it had grown into something much more than he’d ever thought it could be, until it blossomed and spread throughout Caspian so that it had become a part of him.
Michael had shifted off of him, careful to not put pressure on either himself or his shoulder, and Caspian lifted his hand to rest on Michael’s where it lay across his chest, his cheeks still damp. The mumbled comment made his cheeks flush scarlet, Caspian flustered, and he drew Michael’s hand up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the tips of his fingers as though trying to distract himself from the silly pleasure he couldn’t help but feel.
“Then I’ll have to wear less more often,” he mumbled into Michael’s palm, barely audible. It was getting easier, little by little, to feel better about his appearance, even if it was a slow process.
And somehow, it made Caspian absurdly, ridiculously pleased that Michael was flirting with him.
He let Michael’s hand rest back on his chest, Caspian’s fingers curling around Michael’s as he looked at him, his expression soft.
“If you could be anything, then, what would you be?” he asked. “Forgetting about...about your father, and about the Navy and about teaching - would you go into something with literature, then?”
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 7:28 pm
The soft laughter was nice, despite the tears that fell down Caspian's cheeks, and Michael felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a small smile. He knew the nightmares must be terrifying. Luckily, Michael had been so distracted with making sure Caspian was okay that he hadn't had many bad dreams of his own.
"I'm glad you stayed," he agreed, watching as Caspian lifted his hand to his mouth to kiss. He held his hand still even though he wanted to touch Caspian's face again and wipe away the tears. He enjoyed any and every touch he could get, his smile twitching wider at Caspian's mumbled comment about wearing less.
"Good," he said, shifting the hand that was placed back on Caspian's chest so he could catch his fingers to hold. "I like looking at you when you're not covered in baggy clothing," he admitted with a small shrug, enjoying Caspian's reactions and hoping it meant he was being sufficiently distracted.
The question about what he would be if he could be anything caught him off guard, and his smile faltered a little, his brows lifting in surprise. He'd never really been asked that. He'd always been so sure that he was going into the Navy when he was a kid that there wasn't any need to ask.
And then when he was in danger of just being a deadbeat, it was his grandmother who more or less pulled the strings to get his teaching job for him. Normally he was sure they would expect him to handle getting a job himself, but maybe Nana realized how helpless he'd been at that time, despite using threats to dissolve his trust fund if he didn't at least keep a steady job until he was thirty.
"I... I really don't know... you can't really make a living off of liking to read," he mumbled as he glanced away, looking up at the star mobile instead. He was just unsure of what he would do if he really did have any choice. Even if it wasn't an actual job, but just do something, he couldn't think of anything.—————— He was trying very hard not to be flustered, but it was difficult when Michael kept saying things that made Caspian’s stomach flutter. Tangling his fingers together with Michael’s, he turned his head slightly and said, very quietly, “You can look at me anytime you want.”
The sweet, genuine flirtations were making his heart beat a little faster, his face growing redder with each second, though it was helping to ease the panic and fear from earlier. A distraction, capable of taking Caspian’s mind off of the nightmares and onto something else, something that made him happy and warm and pleased all at the same time, even if he was slightly embarrassed as well.
He knew that his question had startled Michael, judging by the reaction to it. Caspian waited in silence, the little mobile above their heads casting sparkling, silvery shadows and flashes of light across the room and their faces, gently swaying from side to side. He had never known Michael in the Navy; Caspian had never even seen a picture of him in his uniform, unless that faded, blotchy newspaper article that Peter had had counted, and even then, it had been trashed enough that it was difficult to see. He tried to picture him now, all dressed up, and could sort of see it -
But he also couldn’t see it, because Caspian had never really connected Navy with Michael.
“Yes, you can,” he said now, voice soft. He ran his fingers absently against Michael’s, head tilted so that he was leaning towards Michael, Caspian basking in his warmth.
“What about a literature teacher? You teach, don’t you? Or, um, what about a librarian? A bookkeeper? You could work in a bookstore. Or maybe…” Caspian fished around in his thoughts for something else. “Something to do with publishing?”—————— “Maybe I already do,” he said softly, some amusement in his voice. He knew he should probably feel bad for making Caspian flustered like he was, but it was so endearing, and hopefully distracting for him. “I like looking at you, in case you didn’t already know,” he explained, his hand brushing lightly over Caspian’s chest as Caspian’s fingers brushed against his hand.
As for Caspian’s suggested options for him, Michael’s smile returned, but it was more sad than anything as he stared up at the glittering stars of the mobile. He thought the idea was nice, but he didn’t think there was much out there for him. He didn’t know what he wanted to do, which probably didn’t help with his sense of self worth.
“I teach, but I don’t have a license. I’m only at Azure because I teach a special elective, and they’re a private school. Besides, I don’t know enough about it to teach. I don’t really know enough about what librarians do to know if I’d want to be one. I guess I could work in a bookstore, but I would probably get frustrated with the whole retail aspect of it. Publishing… I don’t know…” he trailed off, again not knowing enough about it to think that yes, that was what he wanted to do.
He wasn’t trying to be difficult about it, and he appreciated Caspian’s suggestions, but he was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the idea of actually doing something different. He’d been locked into the same mindset for so long that he was having trouble breaking himself out.
To try and show that he wasn’t trying to dismiss Caspian’s suggestions, he pushed himself up slightly and turned his head so he could press a kiss to Caspian’s lips.
“Thank you,” he mumbled against them, before drawing back enough to settle onto his side again. “You’re too good to me, but you shouldn’t worry about me like that. It’s not like I haven’t already fulfilled the dreams I had,” he said softly, shifting so Caspian couldn’t see his expression, although he supposed hearing his voice was enough. —————— He was now more than a little flustered, Caspian blushing all over; but he squeezed Michael’s hand a little tighter, relatively sure that he would be able to feel the rapid beating of his heart against his chest.
“Well, good,” he mumbled, Caspian’s mouth feeling a little dry. “Because you’re the only one I want looking at me.”
If they hadn’t been so tired and injured, he would have maybe suggested a little more looking - but now was not the time. Caspian was too fragile, as much as he hated to admit it, and Michael’s shoulder needed to have no strain put on it, whatever the reason behind it. It was enough, for now, just to have Michael beside him, his arm around him and his presence right there, strong and alive.
There was a weariness to Michael’s voice as he spoke; an almost sadness, and Caspian felt his heart constrict, biting his lower lip. He knew Michael had struggled in the Navy, but now it was a different sort of struggle as he tried to figure himself out after the Navy. It was like his life was simply…there, as though he couldn’t figure out the next part of the story he was writing about himself.
Lost in his own thoughts, Caspian wasn’t aware of Michael shifting until his face was above his, Caspian’s heart stuttering to a stop. He leaned up into the kiss, his fingers lightly brushing Michael’s jaw, a look of quiet, unquestionable affection on his face, eyes watching Michael as he settled back beside him as though he couldn’t quite look away.
The tone of Michael’s voice sent a small shiver down Caspian’s spine. He pressed his lips together, his fingers curling more securely around Michael’s, his own smaller ones fitting into the spaces between Michael’s larger ones.
“Tell me something about yourself,” he said softly. “Something no one else knows.—————— As much as he wanted to continue making playful comments about liking to look at Caspian, Michael also was very aware that they were both injured and needed to rest. But at least it seemed to distract him for the most part, and that was all that mattered.
Michael blinked in surprise again at the request from Caspian to tell him something about himself that no one else knew. There weren’t many things because his life wasn’t as private as he wanted it to be, but his emotions at least were. As for things no one else knew… well, a couple came to mind, but this was not the time nor the place to talk about things that could shift the mood towards darker thoughts.
Instead, he let out a small laugh, and shook his head, his hand shifting to make more room for the fingers that Caspian slid between his. “You knowing that I like to read and recite poetry isn’t enough?” he asked, gently squeezing Caspian’s hand.
“What about you? You always ask me about myself, but you should tell me about yourself,” he said instead, hoping that it would distract Caspian in more ways than one.
There weren’t many things Michael could think of, but he didn’t want to mention them now. He supposed there were always some mundane things he could mention, like things that he liked or places he’d been, but for now it would be better if he could get Caspian to share. —————— ”I like knowing as much as I can about you,” said Caspian, the corners of his lips quirking up. “Especially things that aren’t common knowledge, or that Peter can’t tease me about not knowing.”
He would have shrugged, but he was lying on his back, and the action was sort of difficult, so he just tilted his head to look at Michael, Caspian’s eyes soft. “I like carrying bits and pieces of you with me,” he said, sounding a little self-conscious about it, but affectionate as well, because he couldn’t help himself.
He thought about what there was about himself that Michael didn’t know - but of course, the first thing was his experiences in school, and that was not a pleasant topic, especially after everything that they had just been through. The fingers of Caspian’s bandaged hand absently tugged at his own hair, his arm resting on the pillow where his head was, his expression thoughtful.
But his head kept going back to school, and he eased out a breath, his lashes fluttering, Caspian frowning, though it was mostly directed at himself.
“You know when I said that people didn’t like the fact that I wore nail polish or the way I dressed?” he said finally, his voice quiet. “I always kinda figured it was easier to just...not be close to anyone, because everyone I knew just pretended to be friends with me growing up. After we got to middle school, they all laughed at me for thinking we were actually friends.”
He was gazing up at the mobile, his expression distant, Caspian lost in thought.
“After that, I just sorta...kept to myself, because it was easier.”
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 7:30 pm
”I’m not as interesting as you think I am,” he said softly, although there was a bit of amusement in his voice, especially at the thought of Peter teasing Caspian about something he might not know. He wasn’t sure why Peter would, but Peter was Peter, so he would probably find something at some point.
Still, there were things about himself that he didn’t know if he was ready to share, despite knowing already that if he shared those things with anyone, it would be with Caspian. It was just a matter of time before his patience and care finally got Michael to open up about himself. For now, it was just one piece at a time.
His expression shifted, watching Caspian sadly as he explained what he meant about people not liking how he dressed or presented himself, his chest tightening as Caspian revealed how he was laughed at for thinking people were actually his friends.
“Cas…” he said softly, his hand tightening around Caspian’s. He wished that he could have been Caspian’s friend… if only he’d been born later on… although he knew if Caspian hadn’t gone through the things he had, he wouldn’t be who he was today.
Slowly, Michael pushed himself up again, enough to press a kiss to Caspian’s cheek, and then to his jaw, trying to distract him a little. “Forget them… you have me now,” he pointed out, surprised at the words coming from his mouth since he was always so adamant about not being good enough for Caspian.
He frowned, hesitating again, before quietly sharing, ”I… I’m terrified of flying… now… but sometimes I miss it so much that it hurts…” —————— He turned his head, just a little, to look at Michael, Caspian’s face lacking anything but utter sincerity.
“You are the most interesting person I have ever met,” he said quietly. “And I hope I get to spend a long time getting to know you even more than I already do.”
The rest of my life, he thought to himself - but he couldn’t say that out loud, because it was a terrifying thing, knowing how much he wanted Michael to stay with him. And it was terrifying enough to think that he would scare Michael off with thoughts like that, with clinginess and an overabundance of emotions that cluttered up in Caspian’s heart.
He closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the sensation of Michael’s arm around him, of his presence, his warmth, his utter sweetness. The press of lips against his cheek, and then his jaw, Caspian’s head tilting a little to allow more access, his breath ghosting out of him.
“I have you,” he whispered. “That’s good enough for me.”
He curled his fingers around Michael’s, tightened his grasp, and slanted his head towards Michael’s, wanting, selfishly, a few more of his kisses, even if they couldn’t go farther than that.
Hearing that Michael was afraid of flying made his heart ache, Caspian biting his lip, his expression saddening.
“Why are you afraid?” he asked softly. “If - if you want to tell me,” he added quickly, because he knew whatever it was was a painful topic. “You don’t have to.”—————— The sincerity in Caspian’s eyes had him halting, his breath taken from his lungs. Caspian always managed to do that; take his breath away, no matter how cliche that sounded. It was his gentle, trusting nature that surprised Michael more than the stubbornness and sometimes rash decisions.
“I think you are, too… I want to know more about you,” he admitted softly, and he hoped Caspian knew that he really meant it. He wanted Caspian to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Michael would not laugh at him or lie about being his friend. Or about loving him.
He was glad when Caspian agreed that he was good enough, and he shifted to press the kisses that he knew Caspian was asking for to his face and to his lips. They were short and sweet, but meant everything the deep, heavy kisses did. They just needed to keep things as tame as possible while they were healing.
The questions about why he was afraid had him tensing up, but he shook his head, knowing that Caspian would have been curious. It wasn’t fair that he would bring up something that he couldn’t talk about.
“We were shot down. My team was killed. It was my fault… I was naive… I just… I miss it sometimes. But I know I can’t… I hate traveling anywhere I can’t drive or sail to. Or take a train…” he admitted, his voice thick with a strange emotion that he was obviously trying to hold back. It was the very, very abbreviated version of the story, but still more of an explanation than he’d ever given anyone else. —————— Caspian drew Michael’s hand up, kissed his fingers briefly, lips grazing the tips of them before he lowered it back to his chest, holding on securely. He kept his gaze with Michael’s, his expression quiet and serious, and the fragile tenderness of the moment made his heart ache.
“Anything,” he said softly. “I’ll tell you everything.”
Because it’s you. Because my heart is already yours, which means everything along with it is yours too.
He kissed back, soft, sweet kisses, Caspian basking in them, needing the gentle contact as much as the talking. Distractions and yet they weren’t meaningless in the slightest, but reminders that he was not alone; Michael’s presence was tantamount to his recovery, something they both knew.
Something inside of Caspian seemed to twist at Michael’s words; a pain that was not his own settling in his stomach, in his heart, so that it was curling up into his lungs and constricting his breathing. He sucked in a sharp breath, the corners of his eyes stinging, and Caspian half shifted to turn onto his side so that he could face Michael, his expression pained.
Abbreviated or not, it was a fragment of the past that Michael could hardly talk about, and now Caspian knew, on some level, why exactly that was.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, untangling his hand from Michael’s so that he could reach out and touch Michael’s face, cradling it in his palm. “I’m sorry, Michael, that’s...that’s awful.”—————— The gentle seriousness of Caspian’s gaze had his breath catching again, and he knew that Caspian was completely sincere in wanting to tell Michael anything that he wanted to know. It was a little overwhelming, being so close to someone to want to know every little bit about their life and everything that made them happy and sad and everything in between, but it seemed right with Caspian.
He could feel Caspian shifting, see the expression on his face, although he did his best to restrain his own emotions. They were already being washed away with emotions as it was that he needed to be careful about getting in too deep, even if he wanted, for the first time in… ever… to actually talk to Caspian about it more.
But he knew he shouldn’t. Not now. Maybe not ever. It wasn’t important any more. It was in the past and Michael just needed to get over himself. There were people who had been through so much worse; he had no reason to be upset.
Michael forced a small smile when Caspian reached up to place his hand against Michael’s face, and Michael leaned into it, enjoying the comfort and warmth Caspian’s palm offered.
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. I’m fine,” he said with a smile, but the words sounded a bit scripted, even to his own ears. He cleared his throat some and tried again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make this about me. I want to know more about you, Cas.” —————— He slid his fingers along Michael’s jaw, Caspian’s expression pained, because he knew how hard this was for Michael to talk of. The past that he knew nothing about was there between them, alive and saddening, just like Michael himself, and Caspian had the strongest urge to pull him into his arms and hold him, remind him that he too was no longer alone.
“Shh,” Caspian murmured, sliding his fingers over Michael’s mouth, pressing them gently against his lips. “Don’t apologize. Michael.”
He leaned over, pressing a warm, soft kiss to Michael’s lips before drawing back, Caspian resuming his gentle stroking of the scruff along Michael’s jaw, enjoying the slight roughness against his fingertips (yet another reason why he had been favorable of this new look of Michael’s).
“You know that if you ever wanted to talk about anything,” said Caspian quietly, “that I would listen. I’m your boyfriend, that’s what I’m here for.”
His expression grew softer, more tender.
“And I love you,” he said. “No matter how broken you think you are, I still love you.”
Caspian’s hand pressed against the side of Michael’s face, shaking slightly, Caspian’s lips curving up into a slightly tremulous smile.
“Maybe because I’m a little broken too,” he whispered. “But maybe that’s why we work together.”
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Posted: Sun Dec 04, 2016 7:33 pm
It was painful, seeing the look in Caspian’s eyes. Not because it was a bad look, or anything but sincere with concern, but the fact that Caspian was obviously so worried for him, well… it made him feel unworthy again. He knew he shouldn’t, because this was what Caspian wanted, but it was hard. After thinking one way for so long, it was hard not to.
He froze as Caspian’s fingers brushed against his lips, and then let his eyes slip shut when he was kissed, soft and full of warmth. He wanted so much from this young man that it was painful. How Caspian could be so important to him was terrifying. Something could happen to him, just as it almost happened just about a week prior.
“I love you too, Cas,” he said, his expression softening a bit from the forced expression he had been wearing. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Caspian about everything. It was just… a lot. And the admittance from Caspian that maybe they were both a little broken made his chest tighten, emotions he was trying to hold at bay threatening to emerge.
“I’m not really sure what to talk about. I wouldn’t even know where to start,” he mumbled a bit sheepishly, not necessarily dismissing the idea. “Besides, you should be trying to sleep,” he suggested, knowing Caspian must be tired and Michael was sure anything he said would just make things worse and more difficult to sleep. —————— For a few seconds, Caspian was quiet, simply watching Michael, his fingers stroking gently along his jaw. Then, finally, he said in a soft whisper of a voice, “I will never get tired of hearing you say that.”
It was like a breath of fresh air with each syllable; a caressing, gentle touch with each word, and every time Michael said it, it felt like the first time all over again, leaving Caspian breathless and warm. It was not something, he knew, that would ever get old, hearing that Michael loved him. It was something precious, a treasure to hold in the palms of his hands and keep safe, because it meant more than anything else in the entire world to him.
“I will sleep,” Caspian promised, “Soon. But…”
He kissed Michael’s jaw, a tender, sweet thing, and then his lips again, just as tender, just as sweet, Caspian’s hair was spread out on the pillow beneath him, shifting blacks and radiant blues and purples in the dim, silvery light of the moon streaming in from the gap in the curtains.
“You start from the beginning,” he said softly. “It doesn’t have to be tonight, but I…” Caspian took a small breath, trying to calm himself. “I want to know, because it’s a part of you, even if it’s in the past. It’s there, and I want to know as much about you as I can.”
His expression was gentle, Caspian smoothing fingers along Michael’s brow.
“But I want to tell me when you’re ready,” he said. “When you can get your heart in order, and when you reach that moment I’ll be here.”—————— Michael liked it; the soft touch of Caspian's fingers against his jaw, calming and soothing him when his heart was twisting and unsure. The soft whisper had his heart beating fast again, as though it was Caspian's very voice that was helping him to heal. It seemed kind of ridiculous to think about, but every word from Caspian's lips helped him settle little by little.
The kisses helped as well, seeping into Michael's heart, troubled with memories that he wasn't sure if he was ready to admit just yet. But Caspian was kind to him, patient with him, and almost impossibly gentle with him. It was everything Michael didn't realize he needed.
How was it possible that of all the people he'd ever crossed paths with, Caspian was the one he connected with? And it happened so naturally, too, despite how fast it seemed. He knew he'd been falling for Caspian, but just how quickly and deeply was another story. He never imagined he would have what he and Caspian had. He never thought he would feel so elated and in love.
Michael drew in a deep breath, trying to get his lungs to work again as Caspian continued to take his breath away, his expression relaxing as soft fingers brushed against his brow. Caspian was so patient with him, and when it was Caspian who should need the comfort, that it was almost painful.
"Okay," he said softly, a little relieved that Caspian was so willing to wait for him. That he wanted to know, but was also acutely aware that it was difficult for Michael to open up when he was so used to keeping everything to himself. He'd already shared more about himself with Caspian than with anyone else, even his family or Marissa, who was probably the closest thing Michael has had to a friend in the past five years.
"I don't think I'm ready yet," he admitted guiltily, if only because he knew Caspian was giving him every opportunity to talk, and he kept skirting around the issue. "I would listen too, you know... if you ever wanted to talk, or complain, or vent, or... whatever."—————— It felt…safe like this. Curled up in his bed with Michael’s arm around him, with soft, tender kisses pressed to lips and faces. The moment was fragile in its own way, but it was also strong, and sweet, and it made Caspian feel protected, because Michael was here and he was at the foundation of Caspian’s heart.
He should have known, looking back, that this was how things were meant to be. Not the injuries or the pain of losing Michael, but the inevitability of falling in love. He wouldn’t have ever thought, in a million years, that Michael would actually return his feelings; but head over heels seemed to be the only natural path from the start, and Caspian didn’t want to imagine things differently.
What if Michael hadn’t let him stay, and continued to push him away?
What if he changed his mind and realized he wasn’t in love with Caspian after all?
He wasn’t going to think about that. Not now. Caspian smoothed fingers down the side of Michael’s face, trailing them lightly across his warm skin, a little smile tugging at his lips.
“Being not ready is okay,” he said softly. “I’m okay with waiting. And I know,” he added, his cheeks flushing a little; a mixture of happiness and shyness. “It’s a two way street. I’ll talk to you about things when I’m ready, and you’ll talk to me about things when you’re ready. Until then…”
He leaned over, Caspian sliding his hand around to the back of Michael’s neck. He pulled him closer and kissed him slowly, deeply, lingering because he could, because he wanted, for just a few more minutes, to breathe the same air as Michael and feel how alive he was.
When he leaned back, he was a little more flushed, but Caspian was smiling tiredly at him.
“I want to kiss you more,” he admitted, “But maybe we should try sleeping.”—————— Things weren’t supposed to turn out like this. Not too long ago, Michael had been planning on pushing Caspian away from him, letting him disappear from his life because it would be safer for him. He wasn’t wrong, not really. Caspian had been gravely injured because he was in Michael’s presence, because if Michael had pushed Caspian away, there would have been no reason for him to be there where they were attacked.
Michael leaned into the kiss as Caspian lifted his hand to slide around his neck, letting out a soft sigh through his nose. He kissed Caspian just as deeply as Caspian was kissing him, enjoying every touch, every breath. Caspian was there, and he was okay, and they would both be okay, and somehow everything would turn out just fine.
“I never want to stop kissing you,” Michael mumbled his own admittance, but shook his head, settling back down on his side of the bed.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked softly, his hand reaching up from Caspian’s chest to his face, brushing at his jaw and cheek and neck. “I’ll be right here. I was told you put up a pretty good fight for me,” he said with a small smile, shaking his head.
“Remind me never to get on your bad side. I don’t want you kicking my a**. You already kneed me, once,” he said, cringing at the memory. —————— His stomach seemed to do flipflops, Caspian opening his mouth and then promptly shutting it again, his cheeks flushed.
“Well,” he mumbled, trying to catch his breath again, “When I...when we’re better...maybe we can, you know. Kiss more. And stuff.”
He was trying hard not to sound like an idiot, but it was coming out that way anyway, Caspian’s blush deepening. He tilted his head into the touch of Michael’s hand, basking in the feel of work worn fingers sweeping along his jaw, his face, down his neck where the bandages were. Little tender touches that gave Caspian reassurance, helping to settle some of the anxiousness in his heart.
A small, quiet laugh escaped him, Caspian shaking his head. “I, um,” he said, gaze flickering to Michael. “I did go a little out of my mind, but I didn’t knee him like I did you, just…”
His gaze was on Michael’s face, Caspian reaching up to take his hand again, pressing his palm against Michael’s, sliding fingers together, because they fit, like they were meant to be that way all along. His hand was smaller than Michael’s, and more slender, less worn from years of hard labor - but there was no question in Caspian’s head that they matched.
Or maybe he was overthinking things, but right now, he knew they did.
“I just didn’t want you to die,” Caspian said softly. “I still don’t. Not then, not now, not ever.”—————— Ah, there it was. That endearingly shy mumbling, Caspian’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Michael wasn’t trying to embarrass him. It just happened.
Okay, maybe he was trying a little.
Michael frowned as he rested his fingers on Caspian’s neck, gently ghosting over where the General’s blade had been digging into him, threatening to silence him forever. But his thoughts were interrupted as Caspian reached up to take hold of his hand, linking their fingers together, fitting almost too well, Caspian’s soft fingers sliding against his own.
“You should have kneed the little b*****d,” he said with a small huff, although he was glad he could draw a laugh from Caspian, even if it was small. “Maybe it would make him think twice next time.”
But he could understand what Caspian meant, how he felt. To wake up and see Caspian dripping blood from his arm and neck, growing paler by the moment, the breath pulled from his lungs as his body was unable to retain enough oxygen…
“I’ll be right here,” he promised, shaking his head and giving Caspian’s hand a squeeze. “Go to sleep… I’ll be here when you wake.” —————— For someone who was normally as calm and confident as Caspian was, Michael had a way of breaking down all of his defenses, easily making him flustered and embarrassed. It seemed he couldn’t quite control himself as much as he’d like to around Michael, in a variety of ways.
He smiled up at Michael, giving his hand a squeeze. “Next time,” Caspian mumbled. “Next time I’ll knee him and kick him.”
Or worse, but he didn’t want to say that, not when he was safe and sound with Michael here. Caspian felt Michael’s hand tighten around his and knew he could not have fallen back asleep without this, without him here. He turned his head again to look at Michael, and Caspian burrowed himself closer, turning onto his side once more so that he could press his face into the hollow of Michael’s neck and breathe him in.
“You make me happy,” he murmured, holding Michael’s hand against his chest, close to his heart. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”
He couldn’t say what he wanted to say - I like waking up to you - but he thought, maybe, the message was there anyway.”
Caspian pressed the tiniest of kisses to Michael’s collarbone, his eyes already falling shut again, exhaustion seeping into his bones.
“Goodnight, Michael,” he whispered sleepily.
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