Mistakes (1/3)
Title: Mistakes
Author: wakingnitemarex / hatemetoday_xx
Rating: NC-17
Warning: this is a rape fic [don't look at me, someone else requested it], so obviously, there is rape. If this subject matter offends you, please avoid reading it. I don't want to start any drama.
Pairing: the flyboys/mavid
Disclaimer: Not real, never happened. Hopefully never will happen. Don't own the boys, either.
Summary: Michael has had a bad day, David ends up paying for it.
Author's Note: This was written for a request at the Second Idol Kink Meme [http://godsaneurysm.livejournal.com/1354.html]. Also, there are three parts (I'm posting them all together), and the second part is written by another author, who wishes to remain anonymous.
David steps into the bedroom, clad only in the towel wrapped around his waist. Water is still dripping from his hair, and down his skin, and when Michael looks up from where he is seated on his bed, he decides that it is a very welcomed site.
"Oh. Hey, Mike." David flashes him a quick smile, before crossing to the dresser to dig out something to change into.
"You know, it would've made more sense to take a change of clothes with you to the bathroom," Michael replies, standing up and walking towards David.
The younger man just shrugs. "Meh. It's not like any of us cares. Jason's never dressed." He opens one of the dresser drawers, sifting through it for his boxers.
"Even so, it would've made sense," he's right behind David now, his breath hot on the younger man's shoulder. "Would've been smarter too." He runs his hand down David's arm, and feels him freeze. "Might've made me less tempted to do this." And with that, he turns David around roughly, kissing him, and pushing him up against the dresser, the opened drawer being pushed closed from the force.
David's eyes open wide, and he turns his face away. "M-Michael? What the Hell?"
Michael just smiles at him, and kisses his cheek. He tears the towel off of David's body, and let's it fall to the ground. David makes a sound of protest, and attempts to push Michael off of him, but the Aussie just smirks. He takes hold of David's wrists, and pulls him across the room, pushing him down onto the bed. David struggles with him, but Michael is stronger, and it's useless. He stares up at the man kneeling over him.
"Michael.." he pleads, glancing up at his wrists that are currently pinned against the mattress, "Don't do this.. Please, Michael."
Michael leans in, kissing David's neck. "I'll do whatever I want, Cook. And tonight, that's you." He shifts his hold on David's wrists so that one of his hands is free, and starts to undo his jeans. He manages to shuffle out of his pants and boxers while keeping David pinned, then releases the younger man's hands for long enough to pull his shirt off over his head.
He leans down, pressing his lips to David's, and forcing his tongue into the other's mouth. David starts to turn his face away, and Michael reaches out, holding him in place. He finally breaks the kiss, and trails more down David's chest, and stomach. He nestles himself between David's legs, taking his cock into his mouth, and licking down the length of it.
David whimpers, "Michael.." his eyes are brimming with tears, and his voice cracks as he speaks. "S-stop, Michael.. P-please..stop.." Michael's sole response is to work him even more effectively, and David can feel himself going hard in the older man's mouth. It feels good, David can admit that, but that doesn't mean that he wants it. He doesn't want it, not at all. "Michael..", his voice is barely a whisper now.
After a few minutes, David comes into Michael's mouth, and the Aussie swallows it all down, before releasing David's cock from his mouth. He slides back up the younger man's body, and looks down at him. The tears in David's eyes have spilled over, and he looks both terrified and ashamed. Michael laughs softly, gently wiping away the tears, and David flinches away from his touch, refusing to meet his gaze.
"Oh, don't be like that, David," Michael whispers into David's ear, and the man beneath him shivers. "I haven't even gotten to the good part, yet."
At this comment, David's eyes widen again, and he makes a weak attempt to throw Michael off of him. "Michael.. no.. please don't.."
Michael kisses him again softly, "Shh." He flips David over onto his stomach, and David gasps. He cries out softly when Michael pushes into him, and he whimpers as Michael quickens his pace.
Michael presses against him, kissing the back of David's neck as he fucks him. The moans falling from his lips are a terrible contrast from the whimpers of pain David is making. With a final, loud moan he releases himself into David, and falls against him. It's a long moment before Michael pulls out of him, and rolls over to lay on his back. He glances over at David in time to see him curling around himself, his entire body shaking with the force of his silent sobs, and only then does he fully realize what he's just done.
And it's too late to fix it.
~x~
[A/N: Please note that this part was NOT WRITEN BY ME. The author wishes to remain anonymous, but here's a link to the original posting, in case you wish to leave him/her feedback. :) http://godsaneurysm.livejournal.com/1354.html?thread=60490#t60490]
Michael opens his eyes and is greeted by the pristine white of the hotel’s ceiling. His skin feels damp against the silk sheets. He runs a hand over his face and then lifts his arms over his head for a full body stretch, his taut muscles contracting and then relaxing into the movement.
Michael’s feet brush against something at the edge of the bed and he raises his upper body to get a better glance at it. It’s sheet music, notes hand-written on to a page, with the words “Little Sparrow” written across the top in David’s almost-girly handwriting. Michael smiles fondly at the thought of his roommate.
He must’ve been working hard into the night on the arrangement. It wasn’t uncommon for David to leave his-wait, Michael’s eyes widen in sudden shock. Why is he in David’s bed? A quick glance down and Michael realizes he’s naked in David’s bed.
“Oh God,” Michael whispers. And there’s the pounding headache of a hangover coming on and when he turns to his left and sees red, it’s not from anything so metaphorical. The sheet is stained crimson with dried blood and Michael crawls off the bed to vomit into the trash can where more crumpled sheets of music lay as the memories from last night drift into his head.
David’s tears and his violent brutality.
“What have I done?” Michael says out loud, a silent plea. He remembered the previous morning, wrapping an arm around David’s shoulder and mussing up his hair after David modeled his new haircut. Michael told him he would be a sex symbol now and David just laughed, brushing his arm off, for which Michael felt grateful. His body suddenly felt hot as he looked at the flush on his friend’s cheeks, the way his hair now framed his strong face and soulful eyes.
Then Stacey had called and it had ended in a screaming match. Michael couldn’t remember about what but he did remember going into the hotel bar, drinking straight vodka until he couldn’t walk straight. Jason had found him there and helped him kindly to the room before leaving to help Brooke with her song.
Michael wonders to the bathroom, gripping the sink as he remembers everything in too much detail. He had lain on the bed for minutes or hours until David came in, pulled a blanket over him when he saw what a sorry state he was in, and headed to take a shower. By the time he was finished, Michael had sobered up just enough to feel the first tendrils of lust as he saw David’s glistening, wet skin.
“What have I done?” he said again. David was gratefully nowhere in sight but Michael had to find him, to make it up to him.
How can I ever fix this?
[A/N: And back to my writing]
Michael stares at himself in the mirror for a long moment, but he's so upset with what he's done that the sight sickens him.
He takes a quick shower, and dress, then leaves the bedroom, walking into the living room only to be greeted by Jason's cold gaze.
The younger man stands, and makes his way over to Michael. He shoves him hard in the chest. "What the fuck were you thinking?", he spits.
The force of Jason's shove surprises Michael, and he stumbles backwards. Who knew Jason had it in him? He can't look Jason in the eyes, so he just looks at the floor. Of course Jason would've seen the aftermath of the scene, the three men did share a room, after all.
"I can't believe you, Michael," he continues, his entire body shaking with his rage. His hands are clenched at his sides, and he's just itching to punch his oldest roommate.
I can't believe me, either, Jason, he thinks. He chances a look at Jason's face, and wishes he hadn't. Those normally sparkling, gorgeous blue eyes are alight with a fire that Michael's not sure he's ever seen before. He looks down again.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, and his voice is drenched in heartbreaking honesty.
"You're 'sorry'?", Jason repeats skeptically. "Do you have any idea what you put him through?!", he's screaming now, and Michael actually flinches back. He's never seen Jason so angry before. "Do you have any fucking clue what that's like to deal with? Because I do!", his fingernails are digging into the palms of his hands, "And it's not a nice place to be, Michael. Not at all."
Michael is speechless. Even if he could think of something to say, he's too stunned by the confession that Jason has just made. No wonder the kid always looks like he's trying to live in his own world.
He cannot contain himself any longer, and he punches Michael square in the jaw, and Michael lets him because he knows he deserves worse. "If you ever hurt him again," Jason threatens, his voice shaking, as he slowly lowers his hand back to his side, "You'll think what I just did was tickle you."
Michael feels himself getting angry suddenly, and he's not entirely sure why. "I have no intentions of ever hurting him again," he replies coldly, but his voice breaks on the word 'again', because it shouldn't have to be there, "But I believe I need to have word with him." He walks around Jason, heading towards the hall, having already gathered that David wasn't in the apartment.
"Stay the fuck away from him, Michael!", Jason commands, reaching out and grabbing the older man's arm roughly. What he isn't expecting is for Michael to spin around, smacking him across the face hard enough to turn his head with the force of the blow. Michael regrets it immediately, because the way Jason's eyes widen, the way his breath just slips out, and the youth and vulnerability that replace the rage on Jason's face is almost too much to handle. Jason slowly raises his hand, his fingertips ghosting across his cheek.
"J-Jason..", Michael's eyes are wide as he watches the glaring redness darkening on the boy's cheek.
"You're not the man I thought you were, Michael Johns," Jason says steadily, before walking away. The apartment door slams shut behind him, and the lingering silence doesn't remain long because Michael swears loudly, and turns towards the wall, punching it hard.
"Damnit!", he mutters, resting his forehead against the cool wall. He cannot remember the last time he's been so out of control.
Michael eventually collects himself enough to head out of the apartment, and he crosses paths with Brooke as he's headed downstairs. "Hey, Brooke? Have you seen Dave?"
"Cook?", she asks, and Michael nods. "Yeah," she bites her lips softly, "He went outside, in the back parking lot. He seemed upset.."
"Thanks, Brooke," he tells her, then walks off, heading for the back doors.
David is sitting cross-legged on the ground, his accoustic guitar in his lap. He is slipping in and out of playing, until he finally admits to himself that his hands are shaking too much to continue, and he sets his guitar aside. He bows his head down, resting it in his hands as he silently lets his emotions take over.
Michael approaches him slowly, silently, but apparently David's currently heightened senses and instincts alert him to the approach, because his entire body tense, and he glances over his shoulder nervously.
He swallows hard, setting his gaze steadily in front of him. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels Michael's hand on his shoulder, and the older man quickly pulls his hand away.
"Go away," David whispers.
Michael frowns, this isn't going to be easy. Not that he thought it would be. He moves to kneel in front of David, and his breath catches in his throat when he sees David's tear filled eyes.
David glances up at him, looks back down, then returns his attention to Michael's face. He makes a gesture towards Michael's cheek. "Who did that?"
"Jason."
David smiles despite himself, "Heh.. he's a good kid."
"Yeah. He is."
David looks down again, his fingers fidgeting nervously. He'd rather not be here, right at the moment. Not with Michael. Alone with Michael. He shivers, closing his mind as the previous night flashes before his eyes for the millionth time.
"David," even though his voice is gentle, he sees David flinch, "I..I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I honestly don't know what else to say." If David would just look at him, just look at him and see it in his eyes.. "I.. I had.. a bad day, yesterday, and I was.. I'd been drinking, and I know this doesn't make it any easier, or any better, but I.. I guess it was still in my system, and I don't know what came over me.." he softly places his hand under David's chin, and he jerks his head away. "Please look at me, David," he pleads.
The younger man's body shakes slightly as he listens to Michael. Sure, it's comforting to know that Michael's sorry, but that doesn't make it feel any better.
"Please, David," Michael sounds like he's about to cry, "Just let me find some way to make it up to you. I don't know how, but I'll find a way."
"I think you've ..done enough, ..already, M-Michael." He stands slowly, his gaze still cast to the ground, and slings his guitar over his shoulder. "Leave me alone."
Michael feels his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach as he watches David walk away, his shoulders slumped in defeat, and hands brushing his tears away before he goes back inside.
"David..", he whispers softly to the empty air as the door closes behind his best friend.
Author: wakingnitemarex / hatemetoday_xx
Rating: NC-17
Warning: this is a rape fic [don't look at me, someone else requested it], so obviously, there is rape. If this subject matter offends you, please avoid reading it. I don't want to start any drama.
Pairing: the flyboys/mavid
Disclaimer: Not real, never happened. Hopefully never will happen. Don't own the boys, either.
Summary: Michael has had a bad day, David ends up paying for it.
Author's Note: This was written for a request at the Second Idol Kink Meme [http://godsaneurysm.livejournal.com/1354.html]. Also, there are three parts (I'm posting them all together), and the second part is written by another author, who wishes to remain anonymous.
David steps into the bedroom, clad only in the towel wrapped around his waist. Water is still dripping from his hair, and down his skin, and when Michael looks up from where he is seated on his bed, he decides that it is a very welcomed site.
"Oh. Hey, Mike." David flashes him a quick smile, before crossing to the dresser to dig out something to change into.
"You know, it would've made more sense to take a change of clothes with you to the bathroom," Michael replies, standing up and walking towards David.
The younger man just shrugs. "Meh. It's not like any of us cares. Jason's never dressed." He opens one of the dresser drawers, sifting through it for his boxers.
"Even so, it would've made sense," he's right behind David now, his breath hot on the younger man's shoulder. "Would've been smarter too." He runs his hand down David's arm, and feels him freeze. "Might've made me less tempted to do this." And with that, he turns David around roughly, kissing him, and pushing him up against the dresser, the opened drawer being pushed closed from the force.
David's eyes open wide, and he turns his face away. "M-Michael? What the Hell?"
Michael just smiles at him, and kisses his cheek. He tears the towel off of David's body, and let's it fall to the ground. David makes a sound of protest, and attempts to push Michael off of him, but the Aussie just smirks. He takes hold of David's wrists, and pulls him across the room, pushing him down onto the bed. David struggles with him, but Michael is stronger, and it's useless. He stares up at the man kneeling over him.
"Michael.." he pleads, glancing up at his wrists that are currently pinned against the mattress, "Don't do this.. Please, Michael."
Michael leans in, kissing David's neck. "I'll do whatever I want, Cook. And tonight, that's you." He shifts his hold on David's wrists so that one of his hands is free, and starts to undo his jeans. He manages to shuffle out of his pants and boxers while keeping David pinned, then releases the younger man's hands for long enough to pull his shirt off over his head.
He leans down, pressing his lips to David's, and forcing his tongue into the other's mouth. David starts to turn his face away, and Michael reaches out, holding him in place. He finally breaks the kiss, and trails more down David's chest, and stomach. He nestles himself between David's legs, taking his cock into his mouth, and licking down the length of it.
David whimpers, "Michael.." his eyes are brimming with tears, and his voice cracks as he speaks. "S-stop, Michael.. P-please..stop.." Michael's sole response is to work him even more effectively, and David can feel himself going hard in the older man's mouth. It feels good, David can admit that, but that doesn't mean that he wants it. He doesn't want it, not at all. "Michael..", his voice is barely a whisper now.
After a few minutes, David comes into Michael's mouth, and the Aussie swallows it all down, before releasing David's cock from his mouth. He slides back up the younger man's body, and looks down at him. The tears in David's eyes have spilled over, and he looks both terrified and ashamed. Michael laughs softly, gently wiping away the tears, and David flinches away from his touch, refusing to meet his gaze.
"Oh, don't be like that, David," Michael whispers into David's ear, and the man beneath him shivers. "I haven't even gotten to the good part, yet."
At this comment, David's eyes widen again, and he makes a weak attempt to throw Michael off of him. "Michael.. no.. please don't.."
Michael kisses him again softly, "Shh." He flips David over onto his stomach, and David gasps. He cries out softly when Michael pushes into him, and he whimpers as Michael quickens his pace.
Michael presses against him, kissing the back of David's neck as he fucks him. The moans falling from his lips are a terrible contrast from the whimpers of pain David is making. With a final, loud moan he releases himself into David, and falls against him. It's a long moment before Michael pulls out of him, and rolls over to lay on his back. He glances over at David in time to see him curling around himself, his entire body shaking with the force of his silent sobs, and only then does he fully realize what he's just done.
And it's too late to fix it.
~x~
[A/N: Please note that this part was NOT WRITEN BY ME. The author wishes to remain anonymous, but here's a link to the original posting, in case you wish to leave him/her feedback. :) http://godsaneurysm.livejournal.com/1354.html?thread=60490#t60490]
Michael opens his eyes and is greeted by the pristine white of the hotel’s ceiling. His skin feels damp against the silk sheets. He runs a hand over his face and then lifts his arms over his head for a full body stretch, his taut muscles contracting and then relaxing into the movement.
Michael’s feet brush against something at the edge of the bed and he raises his upper body to get a better glance at it. It’s sheet music, notes hand-written on to a page, with the words “Little Sparrow” written across the top in David’s almost-girly handwriting. Michael smiles fondly at the thought of his roommate.
He must’ve been working hard into the night on the arrangement. It wasn’t uncommon for David to leave his-wait, Michael’s eyes widen in sudden shock. Why is he in David’s bed? A quick glance down and Michael realizes he’s naked in David’s bed.
“Oh God,” Michael whispers. And there’s the pounding headache of a hangover coming on and when he turns to his left and sees red, it’s not from anything so metaphorical. The sheet is stained crimson with dried blood and Michael crawls off the bed to vomit into the trash can where more crumpled sheets of music lay as the memories from last night drift into his head.
David’s tears and his violent brutality.
“What have I done?” Michael says out loud, a silent plea. He remembered the previous morning, wrapping an arm around David’s shoulder and mussing up his hair after David modeled his new haircut. Michael told him he would be a sex symbol now and David just laughed, brushing his arm off, for which Michael felt grateful. His body suddenly felt hot as he looked at the flush on his friend’s cheeks, the way his hair now framed his strong face and soulful eyes.
Then Stacey had called and it had ended in a screaming match. Michael couldn’t remember about what but he did remember going into the hotel bar, drinking straight vodka until he couldn’t walk straight. Jason had found him there and helped him kindly to the room before leaving to help Brooke with her song.
Michael wonders to the bathroom, gripping the sink as he remembers everything in too much detail. He had lain on the bed for minutes or hours until David came in, pulled a blanket over him when he saw what a sorry state he was in, and headed to take a shower. By the time he was finished, Michael had sobered up just enough to feel the first tendrils of lust as he saw David’s glistening, wet skin.
“What have I done?” he said again. David was gratefully nowhere in sight but Michael had to find him, to make it up to him.
How can I ever fix this?
[A/N: And back to my writing]
Michael stares at himself in the mirror for a long moment, but he's so upset with what he's done that the sight sickens him.
He takes a quick shower, and dress, then leaves the bedroom, walking into the living room only to be greeted by Jason's cold gaze.
The younger man stands, and makes his way over to Michael. He shoves him hard in the chest. "What the fuck were you thinking?", he spits.
The force of Jason's shove surprises Michael, and he stumbles backwards. Who knew Jason had it in him? He can't look Jason in the eyes, so he just looks at the floor. Of course Jason would've seen the aftermath of the scene, the three men did share a room, after all.
"I can't believe you, Michael," he continues, his entire body shaking with his rage. His hands are clenched at his sides, and he's just itching to punch his oldest roommate.
I can't believe me, either, Jason, he thinks. He chances a look at Jason's face, and wishes he hadn't. Those normally sparkling, gorgeous blue eyes are alight with a fire that Michael's not sure he's ever seen before. He looks down again.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, and his voice is drenched in heartbreaking honesty.
"You're 'sorry'?", Jason repeats skeptically. "Do you have any idea what you put him through?!", he's screaming now, and Michael actually flinches back. He's never seen Jason so angry before. "Do you have any fucking clue what that's like to deal with? Because I do!", his fingernails are digging into the palms of his hands, "And it's not a nice place to be, Michael. Not at all."
Michael is speechless. Even if he could think of something to say, he's too stunned by the confession that Jason has just made. No wonder the kid always looks like he's trying to live in his own world.
He cannot contain himself any longer, and he punches Michael square in the jaw, and Michael lets him because he knows he deserves worse. "If you ever hurt him again," Jason threatens, his voice shaking, as he slowly lowers his hand back to his side, "You'll think what I just did was tickle you."
Michael feels himself getting angry suddenly, and he's not entirely sure why. "I have no intentions of ever hurting him again," he replies coldly, but his voice breaks on the word 'again', because it shouldn't have to be there, "But I believe I need to have word with him." He walks around Jason, heading towards the hall, having already gathered that David wasn't in the apartment.
"Stay the fuck away from him, Michael!", Jason commands, reaching out and grabbing the older man's arm roughly. What he isn't expecting is for Michael to spin around, smacking him across the face hard enough to turn his head with the force of the blow. Michael regrets it immediately, because the way Jason's eyes widen, the way his breath just slips out, and the youth and vulnerability that replace the rage on Jason's face is almost too much to handle. Jason slowly raises his hand, his fingertips ghosting across his cheek.
"J-Jason..", Michael's eyes are wide as he watches the glaring redness darkening on the boy's cheek.
"You're not the man I thought you were, Michael Johns," Jason says steadily, before walking away. The apartment door slams shut behind him, and the lingering silence doesn't remain long because Michael swears loudly, and turns towards the wall, punching it hard.
"Damnit!", he mutters, resting his forehead against the cool wall. He cannot remember the last time he's been so out of control.
Michael eventually collects himself enough to head out of the apartment, and he crosses paths with Brooke as he's headed downstairs. "Hey, Brooke? Have you seen Dave?"
"Cook?", she asks, and Michael nods. "Yeah," she bites her lips softly, "He went outside, in the back parking lot. He seemed upset.."
"Thanks, Brooke," he tells her, then walks off, heading for the back doors.
David is sitting cross-legged on the ground, his accoustic guitar in his lap. He is slipping in and out of playing, until he finally admits to himself that his hands are shaking too much to continue, and he sets his guitar aside. He bows his head down, resting it in his hands as he silently lets his emotions take over.
Michael approaches him slowly, silently, but apparently David's currently heightened senses and instincts alert him to the approach, because his entire body tense, and he glances over his shoulder nervously.
He swallows hard, setting his gaze steadily in front of him. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels Michael's hand on his shoulder, and the older man quickly pulls his hand away.
"Go away," David whispers.
Michael frowns, this isn't going to be easy. Not that he thought it would be. He moves to kneel in front of David, and his breath catches in his throat when he sees David's tear filled eyes.
David glances up at him, looks back down, then returns his attention to Michael's face. He makes a gesture towards Michael's cheek. "Who did that?"
"Jason."
David smiles despite himself, "Heh.. he's a good kid."
"Yeah. He is."
David looks down again, his fingers fidgeting nervously. He'd rather not be here, right at the moment. Not with Michael. Alone with Michael. He shivers, closing his mind as the previous night flashes before his eyes for the millionth time.
"David," even though his voice is gentle, he sees David flinch, "I..I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I honestly don't know what else to say." If David would just look at him, just look at him and see it in his eyes.. "I.. I had.. a bad day, yesterday, and I was.. I'd been drinking, and I know this doesn't make it any easier, or any better, but I.. I guess it was still in my system, and I don't know what came over me.." he softly places his hand under David's chin, and he jerks his head away. "Please look at me, David," he pleads.
The younger man's body shakes slightly as he listens to Michael. Sure, it's comforting to know that Michael's sorry, but that doesn't make it feel any better.
"Please, David," Michael sounds like he's about to cry, "Just let me find some way to make it up to you. I don't know how, but I'll find a way."
"I think you've ..done enough, ..already, M-Michael." He stands slowly, his gaze still cast to the ground, and slings his guitar over his shoulder. "Leave me alone."
Michael feels his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach as he watches David walk away, his shoulders slumped in defeat, and hands brushing his tears away before he goes back inside.
"David..", he whispers softly to the empty air as the door closes behind his best friend.