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Otherways -
Michael's room. There's probably a very large hole in one of the walls. He'll fix it later - once he's finished making it bigger.
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Nick is walking upstairs, bringing his bag of supplies up, when he sees the hole next to his door...and glares.
"Michael? MICHAEL!"
"Michael? MICHAEL!"
He growls and hits the wall again.
"What?"
"What?"
And Nick breaks the door as he enters. This...all of this is just...WEARING on him. The doorknob is a twisted lump and the mechanism is shot. If it was locked or not...who knows. It's not now.
"Michael. Property damage. What the fuck?"
"Michael. Property damage. What the fuck?"
He pulls his plaster-coated fist out of the wall and snarls at Nick.
"Go away, Nick."
"Go away, Nick."
Nick roars back.
"Don't you fucking dare. What the fuck, Michael? I'm gone a night and I come back to find out someone died. And then I walk upstairs to find you destroying the fucking wall. EXPLAIN, Michael."
"Don't you fucking dare. What the fuck, Michael? I'm gone a night and I come back to find out someone died. And then I walk upstairs to find you destroying the fucking wall. EXPLAIN, Michael."
"You're on your own with the corpse," he growls.
He has to consciously resist the urge to slam his hand into the wall again. Hands clenched in fists at his side, the knuckles of the left one dripping blood.
"I'll fix the wall."
Anything else he might say will have him burying both fists in the wall.
He has to consciously resist the urge to slam his hand into the wall again. Hands clenched in fists at his side, the knuckles of the left one dripping blood.
"I'll fix the wall."
Anything else he might say will have him burying both fists in the wall.
Nick sighs.
"I don't care about the fucking wall, Michael. I care about you. Why are you hurting yourself...or do I already know? Is it what I thought it was?"
"I don't care about the fucking wall, Michael. I care about you. Why are you hurting yourself...or do I already know? Is it what I thought it was?"
He narrows his eyes. "What did you think it was?"
"Do we want to play this game, Michael? I don't like to. You know what I mean."
"Tell me anyway, just so we're on the same page." His body is so tense, tendons could snap at any moment.
Shit.
Nails dig into his palms, drawing more blood.
Through clenched teeth, "I can't do this. It hurts, Nick."
Nails dig into his palms, drawing more blood.
Through clenched teeth, "I can't do this. It hurts, Nick."
"You have to."
It's quiet.
"It's life. It's just another part of life...one that you've denied for far too long. I'm sorry, Michael. I'm so very sorry."
It's quiet.
"It's life. It's just another part of life...one that you've denied for far too long. I'm sorry, Michael. I'm so very sorry."
"I can't, Nick." He lowers his head, staring at the floor.
There's a *reason* I haven't... I just can't.
Still tense, he looks up, just a little, just enough to he can almost see Nick's face. "Her skin, her hair." He looks down again, "The way my whole body tingles when she barely touches me. Nick..." he sighs and the tension releases all at once. Almost so quickly that he loses his balance and starts leaning precariously too much in one direction.
There's a *reason* I haven't... I just can't.
Still tense, he looks up, just a little, just enough to he can almost see Nick's face. "Her skin, her hair." He looks down again, "The way my whole body tingles when she barely touches me. Nick..." he sighs and the tension releases all at once. Almost so quickly that he loses his balance and starts leaning precariously too much in one direction.
And Nick catches him, placing him carefully on the bed.
"I know, Michael. I've always known."
"I know, Michael. I've always known."
He slouches against Nick. He can't speak anymore. Why doesn't anyone ever tell *me* these things?
I know.
He looks down again. "I'm not angry at her," he semi-growls. "Fuck!" And his fist jabs out to connect with Nick's midsection. "This shit isn't supposed to happen to me," he snarls, more at himself than at Nick.
He looks down again. "I'm not angry at her," he semi-growls. "Fuck!" And his fist jabs out to connect with Nick's midsection. "This shit isn't supposed to happen to me," he snarls, more at himself than at Nick.
And Nick grunts, the only acknowledgement of the hit. But he keeps holding onto Michael.
"I know."
"I know."
He leans forward, resting the top of his head against Nick's chest. "Fuck."
He just breathes for a moment.
"You fucking talked to her, didn't you?"
He just breathes for a moment.
"You fucking talked to her, didn't you?"
He blinks.
"Just earlier...to fix what I'd done. I haven't said a damn thing to her otherwise."
"Just earlier...to fix what I'd done. I haven't said a damn thing to her otherwise."
He sighs. "I meant before you came up here. Not that you said anything..."
Another sigh and his fist clench at Nick's shirt, almost as though that's the only thing holding him up - Nick.
Another sigh and his fist clench at Nick's shirt, almost as though that's the only thing holding him up - Nick.
Let go for a moment, Michael. Let go. Do...do whatever you want to me.
The door drifts closed.
Whatever will take away the pain.
The door drifts closed.
Whatever will take away the pain.
Then don't. If you want more, take it. If you want only this...have it.
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