Please don't Say That

Marcel ran his hands over Michael's chest, kissing him slowly. He may have given up attempts at getting into his pants, but that didn't mean he was giving up on getting under his shirt. He began to slip underneath it, and managed to brush his fingers over an inch or so of smooth skin before Michael pushed his hand away again. Marcel groaned. "Errg, come on," He prodded, still kissing him intently. "Lemme see it."

"Gotta buy me dinner first," Michael mumbled, grinning crookedly before kissing him again. Marcel fought down a smile of his own, not wanting to encourage him.

Marcel put both hands on his chest, and trailed them down lightly. "But I'm your boyfriend," He said softly, brushing their noses together and keeping eye contact. "I have a right to your chest."

Michael blinked a few times, and got the look on his face that meant he didn't know what to say. Marcel smirked and went into kiss him again, but Michael moved his head back, and put a hand on his chest to stop him.

Marcel sighed. "What?"

Michael looked down for a moment, then slowly lifted his eyes back up. "Are you really my boyfriend?" He asked quietly.

"Of course," He said, running his fingers through Michael's hair. "What else would I be?"

"I dunno," He mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. "I wanted you to be, but I thought we might have to actually be dating first, before it was official."

Marcel shrugged. "Technicalities. I'm your boyfriend, and you're mine...and I want you." He whispered, leaning back in. Michael didn't move his hand, and Marcel groaned again.

Michael lifted up his other hand, and put it gently on his face, rubbing his thumb back and forth over his cheekbone. "Before I say this, you should know that fireworks have basically been going off in my head since you said you were my boyfriend," He said, smiling sheepishly. Marcel smiled back, and waited for the part he knew he wasn't going to like. "But you know that doesn't mean you've got rights to my body, right?" He said, raising his eyebrows. "It doesn't work like that."

Marcel sat back on Michael's thighs as he straightened up, and Michael put his arms around Marcel's waist as he continued to speak in a soft voice. "You don't have a right to anyone's body but your own, and no one has a right to your body but you. See?"

Marcel nodded slowly. He guessed he knew that- he wasn't sure he believed it, but he knew it. Marcel couldn't actually remember a time where his body had belonged only to him, and not to whoever wanted it. Even before Jack had taken him away, "no" had still been a rarely used word in his vocabulary.

But he knew that wasn't the way it was supposed to work...and now something was becoming very clear to him. "Oh god, I'm that boyfriend, aren't I?" Marcel asked, feeling a little stunned.

Michael furrowed his brow. "Uh, what boyfriend?"

"The one who pressures you into doing things that make you uncomfortable and can't keep their hands to themselves- oh my god, I can't believe I'm that person." Marcel put his hand over his mouth. "I'm such a slut."

"No!" Michael protested, his eyes wide. "No- fuck not at all! Look it makes sense, right? I mean, when was the last time anyone let you have any boundaries?"

"Boundaries?"

"You know, lines that can't be crossed. Like 'you can do this, but not this' and so on."

Marcel frowned. "I once refused to give this guy a rim job- does that count?"

"Yeah, sure." Michael replied. He paused. "What's a rim job?"

Marcel bit his lip. "Uh...s'not important."

Michael nodded. "Alright." He said, leaning in to kiss him again. Marcel wrapped his arms around Michael's neck to keep them from wandering, wondering why no one had ever told him he was allowed to have boundaries before.

Michael drummed his fingers on his knee, nodding as he listened to his grandmother tell him about her friend Estelle's new haircut, which supposedly made the 76 year old woman look like a "hot tamale" (her words).

"Mom, Michael doesn't want to hear about friends haircuts." His own mother teased.

"I know that!" She exclaimed. "Don't you think I know that? I can see- he's wearing his 'someone kill me face.'" She smiled at him, the skin around her eyes crinkling up so it looked as though she was squinting.

Michael smiled. "Bubs, you think every face I make is my 'someone kill me' face." He pointed out.

"That's because you always look like you want someone to come and put you out of your misery," His grandmother accused, pointing a finger at him.

"Hey Michael!"

Michael turned around, hearing someone shout his name, and saw Marcel standing by the entrance of the boys dorms, glaring at Lina. Michael smiled, and quickly glanced at his mother and grandmother- this was the first time they'd visited since Marcel had arrived.

Well, he thought, standing up and walking over to him, guess it's time everyone got introduced.

He could see that Marcel was nervous, but Michael grabbed his wrist and pulled him over anyways. He'd said they were boyfriends, and meeting the family was just something boyfriends had to do. To his credit, Marcel didn't put up a fight, allowing himself to be led.

"Mom, Bubby," He said, standing behind Marcel with his hands on his shoulders, "this is the boy I'm falling in love with."

A chorus of 'awwws' sounded from his left, and Michael turned to see Finn, Lina and Paige all sitting together at a table, a board game out in front of them in a shitty attempt to make it look like they weren't spying. Behind them, Robbie and Casey had stopped whatever they'd been doing and were also looking over at them, wearing expressions on their faces just like the one Paige always made whenever a character on a TV show she liked said or did something sweet.

He shook his head at them, and looked back at his mother and grandmother to assess their reactions. Both their mouths were hanging slightly open, and their eyes were wide with what looked like shock.

Michael figured it could have been worse.

"Um, hello..." Marcel said meekly, his voice doing that thing where it suddenly got a lot higher and girlier. Michael wasn't sure if he did that on purpose, or if it was just something that happened, but he'd been meaning to asking him about it for a while.

"Hello." His mother replied. Out of the two of them, she seemed to be doing the best. She mostly just looked stunned, which Michael thought he could work with. His grandmother on the other hand, looked vaguely nauseous now.

"It's um- it's nice to meet you..." Marcel continued, squeaking his words. Michael squeezed his shoulders reassuringly.

"Wanna sit down?" Michael offered, turning him around so they were facing each other. He tried not to laugh at how bright red Marcel's face was, but it was hard.

Marcel shook his head. "No, I was taking a nap..."

"Really?" Michael asked, raising an eyebrow. "On an actual bed?"

"Shut up," Marcel muttered, shoving his shoulder back playfully and suppressing a smile. "When you get to be tired enough, you stop noticing how crappy the mattresses are, ok?" He gave in and grinned, then reached up and kissed Michael quickly on the cheek, shot a nervous smile towards his family and ran off to the boys dorms.

Michael smiled after him, and sat back down. His mother and grandmother stared at him. He just looked back, calmly.

Eventually, his mother broke the silence. "So- that was...I mean..." She furrowed her brow. "When-?"

"He came here about a month ago," Michael explained. "He was uh, reading the book I wanted and we kinda talked..." He shrugged.

His mother nodded, still looking very confused. "I just, well I...I didn't think you were-"

"Gay?" Michael supplied. She nodded. "Yeah, I didn't think I was either...actually, I didn't think I was anything. I mean, I've never really gotten a long with other people before- I think the closest thing I ever had to friend growing up was that week me and Jimmy Howlett beat each other up everyday afterschool..." He put his hands on the table, and looked at both his grandmother and his mother. "Marcel's the first person I've ever, you know, felt something with. I get him, you know? And he gets me and...and I love him." Michael shrugged. "I just love him."

"Well..." She said, looking hesitant. "He seemed very nice."

Michael gave her a small smile. "Yeah, he is."

She smiled back at him. "I'm glad."

Michael turned to his grandmother, who still hadn't said a word since Marcel had come over. "Bubs?" He said nervously. "You ok?"

She looked away for a moment, then back at him. "You've had a- a difficult life, Mikey..." She said slowly. "All those fights, all the anger...it's been hard for all of us." She glanced at his mother, who still had the results of his anger scarred on her body.

"I know, Bubs."

"But it's also been hard to watch my grandson be so miserable all his life." She reached forward and put her wrinkled hands on his. "So Mikey, if this boy makes you happy- finally- then he's welcome to the family."

Michael grinned, surprised by how relieved he felt. He hadn't realized how much he cared about what his family thought. "Thanks Bubby," He said, and she squeezed his hand. He looked at his mother. "I'm glad you guys are okay with it...because I was sort of hoping you could tell Dad for me."

Marcel lay back on his bed, and stared up the ceiling. It had been a while since he'd felt this empty- this lifeless.

He didn't know what to do. Somehow, Michael was falling in love with him. Why?

How?

He didn't understand. He couldn't wrap his mind around it, not after what happened. How could he? The last people he'd thought loved him had hurt him so badly- he was beginning to think they'd hurt him even more then he realized. What they'd done to him- it was all so confusing now. The way they'd hurt him, loved him, and left him...the way he'd feared them, but at the same time needed them, and loved them. Or, thought he'd loved them. He didn't know now- he was too confused, about everything. It had all seemed so simple once- his days had consisted of sleeping and reading, dealing with whatever one of them wanted from him, occasionally making love to Ace. He hadn't worried about anything, he'd never had headaches like this...

Not for the first time, he wished he'd never been rescued. He knew that was a terrible thing to think- a horrible, perverted thing, but he couldn't help it. Couldn't help but think everything would have been so much simpler...

Marcel closed his eyes, and imaged what that would be like- if they'd never left him, and he'd never been taken away...he and Ace would have gone away together. Maybe they'd be on the road now- Ace driving, him attempting to navigate. Knowing Ace, they wouldn't have even bothered with a map...they would have just driven, and wound up wherever.

Abruptly, and without his permission, his mind flashed back to the time Ace had caught him trying to escape. He shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to remember the way he'd thrown him up against the wall and threatened to kill him. He didn't want to remember that, how scared he'd been- how he'd wanted to die but at the same time been so terrified that Ace was really going to kill him.

He put his hands on his head, determined to remember no more. Without even realizing, he had curled himself up into a ball on his bed, and he hugged his knees close to his chest.

Marcel cried himself to sleep that night, unable to shake the memories of things that had been done to him by a man he thought he loved. Who he thought had loved him. It was so painful...he didn't want it to happen again.

He didn't want to be loved again.

Someone was knocking on his door.

Marcel kept his eyes closed, and sunk tighter into himself.

There was only one person who would be knocking on his door. All of the orderlies had a key.

After a minute, the knocking stopped and Michael left. Marcel felt his shoulders shake, and he began to cry again.

A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I'll make it up to you in the next couple of days.