Something in the desperation of the kiss connected in Michael's head, and part of him wanted to cry at the jagged edges of emotion that had been fucking with him all night. He knew he wasn't playing his part right, but he didn't know how to explain it, and if he had to explain it, did it even count? Not that he expected Alex to read his mind--Michael just didn't know what the words were, either, and he felt like an idiot to have been so sucked in by the text. And what bearing did that have now, anyway?
"I really thought you meant the text..." Alex had been right--they were here, naked, and every shift of Alex's body, every press of him closer told Michael that Alex wanted him. Hell, Alex had said he loved him, even if he hadn't meant to say it. So what he'd thought when he got the texts shouldn't matter, at all, anymore.
Maybe it was that Michael always felt like he was chasing after Alex. A few text messages, and he came running at the mere possibility of being with Alex. He was always running toward Alex, and, too often, Alex ran away. But he didn't want to talk more tonight. They'd talked and he'd told Alex more than he'd ever told anyone about himself, and he didn't want to have to do more of that. Didn't want to have to explain, again, how much the text had pulled him in, because it was stupid, childish, to want something he couldn't even put into words.
But he knew he'd somehow fucked it up when he hadn't just launched into appropriately descriptive suggestions of what he wanted Alex to do to him. That he didn't have words for some indefinable feeling seemed more of a condmenation of his wanting than a failure of language. But he could feel enough of Alex's confusion to almost panic that he was really ruining this, that Alex would stop kissing him, pull away, walk away all over again, and Michael's fingers clutched at him more tightly, reflexively, as he fumbled for some words, however clumsy and imprecise, and hoped Alex would understand something of what he meant underneath them.
"Show me how much you want me." It wasn't an order, more like a quiet plea against Alex's lips. "Make me feel it..." Do the things you think about doing when I'm not here; make me believe you think about me, want me, when we're apart... But saying all of that was too much, would come out with tears, possibly, so he tried to say it as much in his desperate kiss back and hoped the words he did come up with would do, at least to ease the mood and the tightness in his throat somewhat.
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momijizukamori
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Date: 2019-07-18 03:55 am (UTC)"I really thought you meant the text..." Alex had been right--they were here, naked, and every shift of Alex's body, every press of him closer told Michael that Alex wanted him. Hell, Alex had said he loved him, even if he hadn't meant to say it. So what he'd thought when he got the texts shouldn't matter, at all, anymore.
Maybe it was that Michael always felt like he was chasing after Alex. A few text messages, and he came running at the mere possibility of being with Alex. He was always running toward Alex, and, too often, Alex ran away. But he didn't want to talk more tonight. They'd talked and he'd told Alex more than he'd ever told anyone about himself, and he didn't want to have to do more of that. Didn't want to have to explain, again, how much the text had pulled him in, because it was stupid, childish, to want something he couldn't even put into words.
But he knew he'd somehow fucked it up when he hadn't just launched into appropriately descriptive suggestions of what he wanted Alex to do to him. That he didn't have words for some indefinable feeling seemed more of a condmenation of his wanting than a failure of language. But he could feel enough of Alex's confusion to almost panic that he was really ruining this, that Alex would stop kissing him, pull away, walk away all over again, and Michael's fingers clutched at him more tightly, reflexively, as he fumbled for some words, however clumsy and imprecise, and hoped Alex would understand something of what he meant underneath them.
"Show me how much you want me." It wasn't an order, more like a quiet plea against Alex's lips. "Make me feel it..." Do the things you think about doing when I'm not here; make me believe you think about me, want me, when we're apart... But saying all of that was too much, would come out with tears, possibly, so he tried to say it as much in his desperate kiss back and hoped the words he did come up with would do, at least to ease the mood and the tightness in his throat somewhat.