#2844

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Axel digs his fingers into Michael's hair where he's sucking a hickey against his neck. They're still both clothed, though barely, and Axel can feel Michael through the other's thin shorts. He gasps and moans in all the right places and stares when the mouth unlatches from his neck and grins down at him. Michael is straddling him as he peels off his shirt and moves to take off Axel's as well, he lets him do it with ease,

"You getting bigger?" There's still that sly grin on his face that Axel loves but the rot has settled in his stomach and it won't seem to go away,

"Shut up." It's all he can reply before Michael leans down again and pulls him into a messy kiss. It's more slobber and teeth than anything else. Little movements from Michael's hips that leave both of them gasping. Axel tries not to bite his tongue. He's not going to ruin this now. Not when Michael presses another kiss against his jaw and his torso is so warm against his. Something comforting despite the bile that rises in his throat. He loves him, he hopes. Enough to get through this.

Except Michael has always known Axel better than himself. Usually using it to push his buttons, though there are the occasions he uses that knowledge for the better. He leans back and moves to take off their shorts before freezing, a frown appearing on his face as his hands rest on Axel's bare abdomen, "What's wrong?"

Axel shakes his head and uses his hands to try and pull off Michael's shorts himself, "Nothing. Keep going."

"No," He rolls off Axel's hips this time, kneeing on the bed above him still, "Something is wrong. You're not happy."

"Of course I'm happy- Why wouldn't I be?" He tries to sound incredulous though he knows it's coming out strained and frustrated,

"Do you want to do this?" There's a look of hurt that flashes in Michael's eyes and Axel knows his own widen with panic,

"No! No. We can. Why did you stop?" Bangs fall into Michael's eyes as he shakes his head not unlike a dog,

"Not tonight." His hands are clenched on his thighs like he's doing everything he can not to reach out and touch him and Axel wants to scream. He doesn't though, instead reaching out and grabbing his wrist. His mouth opens and closes as if to explain it all away. Saying something that will fix the vile feeling inside him the moment they go any farther than kissing. Saying something that will fix the way Michael refuses to even touch him right now.

But he can't. Neither of them have ever been good with words, never really needed them. So the frustration and anger building inside Axel bubbles up into something he can take out on himself and others. The metallic taste of blood coating his mouth where he bit his lip is only a small result of it,