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Mike stared out of his bedroom window, his brows furrowed and an unshakeable anxious feeling bubbling in his chest, he kept clenching and unclenching his fists, a futile attempt to ground himself. The street outside was quiet, as it should be, Mike had been sure to move him and Abby to a quiet area, hoping for a fresh start.
That went really well.
Their house was still a wreck, most of the kitchen windows were still broken, covered only by sheets of plastic that shook violently with the wind, sending howls through the house that only served to further heighten Mike’s nerves. Jeremiah had helped him clean up all the glass and debris from the floor, but he still felt weary letting Abby walk around, so he asked her to keep her shoes on, especially in the kitchen and front room. At least his and Abby’s rooms were in a decent enough state to be habitable, beyond a few knocked over bits of furniture, there was no real damage.
Mike had originally heavily protested the idea of coming back to the house after everything that happened, but after days of uncomfortable nights spent on Jeremiah’s sofa, Abby had practically begged Mike to go back to their house, and despite it all, he could never say no to her. She had also been making more comments about missing her friends and out of fear of her trying to go back to Freddy’s again, Mike had no choice but to go back to the house. Jeremiah had helped him remove the hollow shells of mechanical parts, but Abby claimed she could still feel her friends there and despite the chill that ran down Mike’s spine at that thought, it was the best-case scenario.
But something had been wrong since they’d moved back into the house, frankly something had been wrong since the moment they’d left to go to Jeremiah’s in the first place. As they’d walked across the front garden, still shaking from the insane events that had transpired, Mike holding Abby tightly, refusing to look back at Vanessa as Jeremiah led them to his car, he’d heard Jeremiah mutter,
“Where’d that freak go?” Mike had assumed it was just some random person who had been watching the chaos unfold with morbid curiosity, but through all the adrenaline he’d forgotten to ask. As time passed and more unsettling things happened, he grew increasingly worried about who could have vanished that night. He tried all he could to ignore the one person lingering in his thoughts, hoping that by not thinking about it, he could make the problem go away.
Walking through the door, Mike felt a deep discomfort settle in his stomach, Abby seemed completely unphased, running to her bedroom with a gleeful laugh. The house was quiet, not in the easy way a normal home should be, the silence was overwhelming, like someone had sucked all the life out of the building.
Mike hovered in the doorway, looking at the hollow mess of a house they’d left behind, the smell of iron was still heavy in the air, Mike didn’t want to know if it was from blood or the machines that had broken in and destroyed everything he’d been trying to build. He looked around, taking in all the corners, subconsciously checking for anything that could be lurking in the shadows, whether it be a murderous animatronic or someone-
No, Mike wasn’t even going to entertain the thought; there was no one that would be hanging around here.
He shook himself off and entered the house, making sure to close the door behind him and check the locks twice.
Readjusting to a form of normal life was far from easy, Mike felt like he was back at square one again, he found himself constantly checking over his shoulder, expecting to find some giant murderous animatronic following him, or worse. Abby seemed surprisingly okay, Mike envied her in that sense, the ability of a child to bounce back from a night of true horror. The only sign she even still thought about the events were her drawings, but those were only ever of her having fun with her ‘friends’.
He tried to go through his routine as usual, waking up and dropping Abby off at school, then going to work and trying to get through the day without checking over his shoulder every five minutes. He knew there was no one there, but that didn’t shake the burning feeling of eyes watching his every move. He pushed through, collecting Abby from school, making dinner, trying not to stare out of the window, expecting to find someone staring at him. He settled Abby into bed, breathing a sigh of relief as the feeling of being watched dissipated whenever he was in Abby’s room. He went to bed, tossing and turning, feeling sick knowing he had to repeat the whole thing again tomorrow and the day after, an endless cycle of paranoia.
This was the third night in a row now that he was unable to shake the feeling of being watched, feeling eyes following his every move. It had been over a week since the Afton family destroyed his life once again, but with Vanessa gone he was hoping he could fall back into some form of normalcy. Instead, he was stood at his window, expecting to see someone staring back at him from the street outside.
No one was actually there, of course, but that fact did little to ease Mike’s growing concern. Abby hadn’t mentioned anything, she just kept giving him these long worried looks, which Mike hated, he should be the one worried about her not the other way around.
Mike sighed heavily before deciding to just go to bed, he couldn’t spend another sleepless night staring at the street. He crawled beneath his thin sheets and felt the deep-seated exhaustion pull him into another dreamless sleep, as his eyes began to close, he shifted his glance to the window, he’d left the curtains open, but he was too tired to actually get up and close them. He’d hoped the new environment would make sleeping with his curtains open easier, but every time he looked he was just expecting to see a figure standing there, grinning at him through the darkness. For a moment he could have sworn he saw something moving from behind the tree outside his window, but he brushed it off as the exhaustion and paranoia getting the best of him and closed his eyes.
The next morning, he peeled his eyes open, wincing at the bright light coming through the window, Mike looked at the clock on his nightstand and sighed, it was much earlier than he needed to be up, but he knew that trying to fall back asleep now was pointless. He pulled himself up and couldn’t help but glance out the window again, as expected there was no one there, but the feeling of eyes on him wouldn’t shake.
Mike tried to go through his routine as usual for the next few days: wake up, take Abby to school, go to work, pick Abby up, go home, sleep and repeat.
For most the repeating cycle would drive them nuts, but for Mike, he feared that he would go insane without it. Plus, he had earned the mundanity of a routine after all they’d been through.
But even with this newfound normal-ish routine, Mike could not escape the feeling of eyes on him. He swore that there were moments when he would walk on the street that he could hear footsteps steadily following behind him, but every time he would turn around, no one would be there. Each night he’d lock the front door and swear for a moment he could feel someone on the other side; he’d look through the curtains and some days he could almost see a shadow moving, but he’d brush it off as paranoia. He’d still triple check the locks anyway.
Then when he finally went upstairs to bed, he’d check his window every night, he found that in his bed was where he felt most watched, a fact that made his skin crawl. Mike would sometimes see a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and would look at the window only to find nothing there; he was starting to worry that maybe he was losing it.
It’s a few days later that the unsettling feeling of being watched becomes unavoidable, Abby had gone to a friend’s house for a sleepover, Mike had jumped at the chance for her to find some friends that weren’t so robotic and murderous. This however left him alone in the house, with no distractions from the feeling of eyes watching him from the window. He sat on the sofa, staring blankly at the dark screen of the television, any attempt to distract himself failing. Each creak of the house and rustling of the plastic sheets covering the windows would cause him to jump up, turning around in a panic only to find an empty room. He fought to stay awake, checking his surroundings periodically, but the exhaustion of being constantly on edge for the past few weeks made it impossible to resist the call of sleep.
He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep for when the sound of footsteps caused him to jolt, he leapt up in a panic, eyes scanning the room expecting to find an intruder waiting. The front room was mostly dark, Mike had only turned on one or two lamps, so there was plenty of shadows for someone to hide in, that fact made Mike’s stomach churn. The silence was broken once again by footsteps, he barely had time to register that they were coming from behind him and couldn’t even turn around before he felt the cold blade of a knife press into his throat,
“For such a paranoid man, you really are careless.” A voice chided from behind him and Mike’s blood ran cold as he recognised it,
“Michael.” He breathed out shakily, all too aware of the blade against his throat in the hands of the man that had tried to kill him before, “how the hell did you get in here?” Mike asked, eyes scanning the room, considering his options for escaping or fighting back, they were slim,
“You left the door unlocked and fell asleep, you careless idiot.” Michael laughed, Mike could feel his breath against his ear, he could almost see the unnaturally wide grin on the other man’s face, the one he had worn when they first came face to face. The knife pressed further into Mike’s skin, the pressure just enough to draw a small drop of blood.
Mike hissed and stepped back away from the pressure, surprised to find such a large gap between himself and Michael, he finally felt the heat of Michael behind him and stopped before he could crash into him, Michael hummed quietly before quickly pressing the blade back to Mike’s throat,
“Ah ah ah,” he sung, “where do you think you’re going Mike?”
“Fuck you.” Mike spat back, he felt Michael tense behind him and the knife dug hard into his skin, drawing more blood and causing Mike to cry out in pain,
“Watch your tone,” Michael hissed back, “or I’ll slit your throat and leave you bleeding out for Abby to find in the morning.” His tone was cold and certain, Mike flushed with anger,
“Don’t even talk about her you fucking freak.” He knew he shouldn’t be arguing back after such a genuine threat from someone with a literal knife pressed against his neck, but Abby’s safety always came first,
“How sweet,” Michael taunted, “you have a knife pressed to your throat and you’re still thinking about your sister.” He leaned forward until Mike could feel his lips brushing against his ear with every word, causing a shiver to go down his spine, “how utterly pathetic.”
Those words made something snap inside of Mike, he slammed his elbow back into Michael’s stomach, causing his grip on the blade to falter enough for Mike to push Michael’s arm away from his throat. Mike took the chance to put some distance between them, turning to face the man that had been tormenting him, stupidly forgetting to disarm the lunatic in front of him in the process. Michael was hunched over breathing shakily, one arm cradling his stomach, he lifted his head to glare at Mike and Mike finally got a good look at the other man.
He was all sharp angles and even hunched over he was still taller than Mike, his hair had been shaken loose and was falling into his eyes that were sharp and filled with rage, Mike couldn’t help but be momentarily captivated by the icy blue. Michael mouth curled into a cruel smile, not quite reaching his eyes and entirely creepy,
“That wasn’t nice now, was it?” His tone was anything but playful, every word felt like a threat and Mike was really wishing he had taken the knife when he had the chance,
“You’re the one that broke in here, you’re the one that’s been fucking stalking me.” Mike shot back angrily, all of his frustration and paranoia coming to a head, but Michael didn’t falter, his smile only grew wider,
“Observing.” Michael corrected
“Stalking.” Mike repeated sharply, feeling his stomach churn at the way Michael’s lips curved in glee, “following me to work, following me when I go for a walk, watching me fucking sleep.” He listed with growing irritation,
“You noticed that did you?” He said brightly as he looked at Mike and tilted his head, “you do lead a dull life, you know? No friends, just the same boring routine day in day out. You made it too easy for me.” His tone was mildly amused, his eyes shining in the moonlight, “how could my sister ever choose someone so utterly pathetic?” He looked Mike up and down, clearly fascinated by the other man despite his words,
“I don’t think I’m the pathetic one here.” Mike bit back before he could stop himself, “your father is dead and your sister doesn’t want you; you’re chasing the legacy of a dead man that never gave you attention and never will, you’re pathetic.” Mike watched with growing unease as Michael straightened up, gaze cold and face dark with rage. Before Mike could even begin to regret his words, Michael launched at him, the blade of the knife raised high in the air. His eyes widened and Mike barely had time to put his hands out in front of him to get ahold of Michael’s arms and hold the taller man back.
He tumbled back as the full weight of Michael crashed into him; he landed on his back and felt the wind rush out of his lungs. He was trapped on the floor between Michael’s legs, using all his strength to push back against Michael’s arms that were currently trying to push a knife into his chest,
“How dare you talk of my family you worthless man, you know nothing!” Michael shouted, voice dripping with venom and eyes glassy,
“Get off of me!” Mike struggled beneath him, surprised by how strong the thin man truly was, the tip of the blade getting slowly closer to his chest. He bucked his hips suddenly, using Michael’s momentary shock to knock him off balance and flip them around. The knife clattered to the floor as Mike slammed Michael into the ground, hands around his throat and legs trapping his arms at his sides. As Michael hit the ground, he let out a sound that made Mike stop.
Mike’s hands had tightened around Michael’s neck, not quite choking him but applying enough pressure to immobilise him and the man had fucking whimpered beneath him, the sound pathetic and desperate and clearly involuntary judging by the violent flush on his face,
“What was that?” Mike asked, brows furrowed and completely at a loss,
“Fuck you.” Michael shot back, grin gone and pointedly avoiding Mike’s eyes, but Mike didn’t miss the slight tremor in his voice,
“You sick fuck, you like this.” Mike accused, staring down at the other man in horror but not making any moves to get off of him. Mike shifted his grip on Michael’s throat slightly, dropping more of his weight onto Michael chest and trying to ignore the flush creeping up his neck at the moan Michael was barely able to bite back. Mike stared down at the man below him; he knew that he should end this before it goes too far, but he just couldn’t bring himself to separate from the enticing heat of the man below him.
After a few moments of tense silence, Michael slowly turned his head back and observed Mike carefully, saying nothing but staring intently at the man above him. Finally, his eyes widened ever so slightly, and his mouth curled into that cruel smirk once more,
“Get off of me then Mike.” Michael’s tone was lightly teasing and all too knowing, his eyes glinting and Mike hated how the other man looked at him, like he knew exactly what Mike was thinking, Mike was starting worry that maybe he did. Mike still didn’t move, he felt frozen in place, fingers twitching against the other man’s throat. Mike could feel Michael’s pulse beneath his fingers, too even and steady for a man on the ground with hands wrapped around his throat. Mike prayed the other man couldn’t hear his own heart racing.
Michael’s smirk split into a wide grin, eyes practically sparkling in glee, Mike was starting to think that he no longer had the upper hand in this situation,
“Let go of me Mike.” Michael spoke slowly, challenging the other man, already knowing he’d won, his smile somehow growing wider when Mike still didn’t move. “You really are a curious creature, Mike Schmidt,” Michael mused, he sounded almost in awe, “you kick my poor sister out of your life because she put you in dangerous situations and yet here you are, hands around the neck of the man that tried to kill you, and you aren’t even squeezing.” He shifted slightly and pulled his arms free from where they were trapped between Mike’s legs, grinning manically at the lack of resistance. He lifted his arms up slowly and Mike just let him, eventually Michael wrapped his fingers around Mike’s wrists, “you could kill me right now.” The man sounded absolutely infatuated, he pushed Mike’s wrists down, causing the shorter man’s grip on his neck to tighten slightly,
“I should kill you.” Mike breathed out, his tone unconvincing even to his own ears, “I really should.” For a moment his gaze hardened, and he started to actually apply some real pressure to Michael’s throat, eyes narrowing into a glare as he remembered what happened the last time he saw this man, remembering how he had told the toy animatronics to ‘crush their bones’. As his fingers pressed into the sides of Michael’s windpipe, cutting off his air supply, the other man let out another pathetic whine, eyes nearly rolling back into his head, “you’re such a freak.” His tone lacked even the slightest bit of the disgust he knew he should be feeling, Michael was still smiling, relishing in the feeling of Mike losing control. The normal, respectable member of society and caring brother façade melting away to reveal the violent creature that Michael knew lay beneath the surface,
“Still not choking me to death.” Michael reminded him breathlessly, not missing the way Mike’s grip loosened slightly as he spoke, “you are such a hypocrite.” Michael laughed, “you strive for normalcy and yet the second you get the man that tried to kill you vulnerable beneath you, you can’t even do the one thing you should do.”
Michael watched Mike carefully, the hands around his throat were no longer squeezing, just applying a gentle pressure that left a weird feeling in Michael’s chest. The other man watched him in turn, his eyes full of a pity that made Michael want to stab him all over again, Michael’s eyes narrowed into a glare as he suddenly remembered a conversation he’d heard between Mike and Vanessa when he was watching the man before confronting him. Realisation dawned on him and he couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that bubbled out of his chest, causing Mike’s face to falter and his eyes to shift back into panic,
“You can’t fix me Mike,” Michael’s tone was mocking and Mike felt a spark of panic run through him, he hadn’t even fully realised himself that he was once again treating an Afton like something he could take care of and fix. His grip loosened entirely, allowing Michael to sit up and get in Mike’s face. His face split into a grin more manic than any Mike had seen before, he could feel Michael’s breath against his face and tensed as the man continued, “but I could break you.” His tone was full of promise, looking at the man with a newfound interest, Mike struggled to not shrink beneath his piercing stare,
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mike finally bit out between clenched teeth, he’d began to shuffle off of the taller man, standing up and backing away, hoping that by putting distance between them, he could continue to ignore the heat bubbling beneath his skin, but Michael simply followed him, gaze not once wavering,
“Ah, but I think you do Mike,” Michael hummed, “your desperate need to fix everything and everyone around you, your foolish belief that despite everything, there is good in everyone.” The knife was in his hand again, “tell me Mike,” he brought the blade up, making sure Mike knew exactly what was about to happen. “Do you really think that I could be fixed?” He tilted his head as he pressed the blade to Mike’s sternum, dragging it slowly down, tearing through the other man’s shirt and leaving behind a clean cut that immediately began to bead with blood.
Mike hissed as he flinched away from the blade, however he’d failed to notice that Michael had backed him up against a wall and he had nowhere left to go. Michael stopped the blade after only a few seconds, eyes lighting up with a sick kind of glee at the sight of the other man’s blood, he looked up at Mike’s face and what he saw made him hesitate. He’d expected anger, he’d expected fear, he’d expected the man’s face to be twisted in pain, he had not expected to find Mike flushed a violent red and almost panting, his eyes much darker than Michael remembered them being a moment ago. Mike lifted his eyes to meet Michael’s, and the taller man felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of Mike’s blown pupils, the knife clattered to the floor as Michael stood frozen, completely at a loss.
Mike felt his lips curve into a smirk at the suddenly silent man,
“Not so talkative now, are you?” He teased, his still laboured breathing making it a bit less biting than he’d hoped, Mike looked down at his chest and groaned, “I liked this shirt asshole.” That comment seemed to break Michael out of whatever trance he’d been in, he moved back from Mike and eyed the other man wearily,
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He breathed, this painfully dull man that he thought he understood had somehow caught him off guard and that terrified him more than anything, Mike looked up at him with a raised brow,
“Well, that’s rich coming from you.” He tilted his head and began to move towards the other man, who made no further effort to get away from him, “what’s the matter Michael?” they were inches apart, Michael’s face burned and he felt his skin buzz at the proximity,
“You’re a freak.” Michael breathed, enthralled and disturbed all at once. Mike’s eyes narrowed slightly and he quickly lifted one hand to once again wrap around Michael’s throat, this time grinning as the man whimpered, eyes wide and confused. Mike used his grasp on Michael’s throat to tilt his head back, feeling the other man’s throat spasm as he tried to swallow, he slowly pushed the taller man down until he was on his knees, staring at Mike,
“Maybe you’re right Michael,” he mused, lifting himself up so that he could stare down at the other man, “maybe I can’t fix you,” he leaned down, lips nearly brushing against Michael’s with every word, “maybe I don’t want to.” He swallowed Michael’s responding whine with a violent kiss, he crashed into the other man and sent them tumbling back to the floor, mimicking their earlier position with Michael trapped between his thighs. For a moment Michael didn’t move, his lips still against Mike’s and for a moment Mike reconsidered, he had nearly pulled away when the taller man suddenly let out a muffled moan against his lips and reciprocated with desperation.
Mike twisted his head and used the new angle to swipe his tongue against Michael’s lips; the man’s mouth fell open with no resistance and Mike hummed contently as he began to map out the inside of Michael’s mouth lazily. He felt Michael squirming beneath him, letting out a constant string of pathetic gasps and whines, but never making any moves to touch Mike. Mike pulled back and huffed a laugh as Michael whimpered and dropped his head against the floor with a thud, Mike stared down at the panting, flushed mess of a man beneath him, the once intimidating killer now pliant and desperate for anything Mike would give him. Mike hooked two fingers between Michael’s teeth and coaxed his mouth open, causing the other man to open his eyes and stare up at Mike, only a small ring of blue visible in his blown-out eyes,
“Look at you.” Mike mumbled breathlessly, “not so dangerous now, are you?” At that Michael’s eyes narrowed and he clamped his teeth hard around Mike’s fingers, who cried out in pain, pulling his fingers from the other man’s mouth and wrapping them around his throat once more, “bite me again and I will tie you up and leave you here for the police to find.” His tone was dark in a way that Michael hadn’t heard before and he couldn’t help the shiver that went down his spine at the words, Mike smiled down at him, content with the effects of his threat. He loosened his grip on Michael’s throat and leaned back down to brush their lips together, “Michael,” he breathed,
“Hm?” The other man managed to respond, feeling a little lightheaded,
“Put your fucking hands on me.” Before Michael could reply Mike pressed their lips together with renowned vigour, Michael didn’t hold back this time, he grabbed everything that he could, his hands twisting violently into the fabric of Mike’s shirt, moving to hold his face in a surprisingly gentle way before running his fingers through the other man’s hair. Meanwhile Mike pried his mouth open once more, their teeth clashing and tongues twisting like they were starved, after a minute Mike pulled away again, but he didn’t go far, instead pressing open mouthed kisses to the skin of Michael’s throat. The taller man keened at the feeling of Mike’s stubble scratching against his skin as he sucked deep marks into the length of Michael’s neck.
Mike worked his way down to where Michael’s shirt began before coming back up to capture his mouth again, he stayed there until he had to separate to breathe, both men practically panting into each other’s mouths,
“I think I like you better like this.” Mike mumbled, brushing his thumb over Michael’s bruised lower lip and dragging the mixture of their saliva across his cheek, “quiet, submissive,” he mused, continuing the path across Michael's face until his hand buried into Michael’s hair, gripping tightly and pulling Michael’s head back, causing a strangled groan to claw its way out of the taller man’s throat, “perfect.” He whispered and that was enough to break Michael, his spine curved as he tried to press himself into Mike, the moan he let out was like nothing Mike had ever heard before and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the beautiful, broken man beneath him,
“Mike please.” Michael begged, his hands digging into the blood-soaked remains of Mike’s shirt, trying desperately to pull him closer,
“Please what?” Mike asked, grinning as Michael clawed at his chest uselessly,
“Kiss me, touch me, anything ple-” Mike cut his begging off with another deep kiss, releasing his grasp on Michael’s hair in favour of gripping his waist possessively and pulling the other man closer, his slightly exposed chest brushing against Michael’s shirt, each laboured breath pressing them even closer. When they eventually had to break away for air, Michael moved his attention down quickly, biting at the skin of Mike’s neck, each bite getting deeper and deeper until he finally reached the juncture between Mike’s neck and shoulder. Michael took a moment to breathe in Mike’s scent before biting down hard, tearing the skin and causing Mike to let out a groan, his grip on Michael’s waist growing bruising. Michael pulled back slightly and licked at the wound, a pleased sound escaping him as the taste of iron filled his mouth, Mike pulled him away from his neck and kissed him hard, forcing his tongue into his mouth, not even flinching at the taste of his own blood.
Mike’s hands moved up to cradle Michael’s face and the taller man was unable to supress the whine that crawled out of his throat, Mike pulled back and looked at him curiously, Michael’s face was a beautiful shade of red, but his eyes were glassy and he wouldn’t look at Mike,
“No one’s ever touched you like this before, have they?” Mike asked, a deep pity clear at the edge of his tone, Michael didn’t reply verbally, just gave a slight shake of his head. Mike gripped his face tighter and forced him to look Mike in the eyes, “pity.” Mike muttered before capturing Michael’s mouth again, swallowing the responding whines easily. After a moment he pulled back again, “Michael, bite me.” He demanded breathlessly, eyes wide and manic, Michael blinked at him,
“What?”
“Bite me.” Mike repeated, gripping Michael's chin so tightly that he will definitely have a bruise later, the thought filled Mike with a strange satisfaction, with no further hesitation Michael moved back to Mike’s neck. He took a second to lick up the dried blood from the cut on his throat before sinking his teeth into his throat again, drawing blood that he quickly cleaned up with his tongue, he moved further down Mike’s neck, drawing more blood as he went. Mike’s hand twisted in his hair as he breathed out, “good boy.”
Michael whimpered against his neck and suddenly a searing pain broke out across Mike’s skin, he gasped and looked down to see the blade back in Michael’s hand and a deep gash on Mike’s shoulder that immediately began to ooze with blood,
“What the fuck-” his confusion was cut short when Michael latched onto the cut, digging his tongue deep into the wound, cleaning the blood while groaning contently, “you fucking freak.” Mike bit out, but it lost all of its punch as he let out a deep moan at another swipe of Michael’s tongue. Mike’s hands went back to Michael’s waist, his nails digging in so hard that he was sure he’d broken the skin, but Michael didn’t falter and soon enough Mike felt the sharp pain of another cut, this time across his chest. Michael dropped the knife, hands coming up to rest on Mike’s chest as he licked deep into the wound.
Mike’s hands spasmed, his grip faltering on Michael’s waist before moving his hands up to grip him by the hair and pull him away from Mike’s chest, his mouth and chin were stained crimson and his eyes black with hunger,
“Fuck, Michael.” Mike breathed before dragging him back into a bruising kiss, not even caring that he was smearing his own blood over his face in the process, they bit at each other’s lips, tongues clashing and making a filthy mixture of blood and saliva that made Mike’s head spin. He used his grip on Michael’s hair to pull him back, a string of saliva connecting their mouths. They were both panting, hot breaths mixing together and causing both men to shiver, Michael looked at Mike through his brows, a smile breaking out on his face at the sight of him, “what are you grinning at asshole?” Mike growled, his grip tightening on Michael’s hair,
“You’re a freak.” Michael responded breathlessly, Mike glared at him, but Michael continued nonetheless, “you claim to want normalcy and yet look at you, covered in your own blood and my saliva, panting like a dog.” A delirious laugh bubbled in his chest that was quickly cut off by a whine as Mike pulled his hair, tilting his head back slightly, “god its beautiful.” He breathed before grabbing Mike by the face and pulling him back in, relishing in the way Mike melted into him, Mike disconnected their lips after a minute to mutter against Michael’s mouth,
“Stay?” The question hung in the air heavily and for a moment Mike thought he’d ruined it, Michael pulled away to look at him in the eyes, he stared at him, gaze calculating and cautious. Mike looked back at him, pupils still blown and definitely still a mess, Michael’s gaze shifted and he whined needily before swallowing Mike’s mouth again, gripping his face tight as if he’s worried Mike would disappear if he let go. Mike grinned against his lips before responding just as desperately, knowing he had an answer to his question.