They wouldn't stop coming. The crows. Almost every day, they would return, and it seemed like every time they came back, there was more than the last time. They especially came at night but they would arrive during the day, too.
Olivia would come out of her room when she heard all the noise outside and start to freak out.
"Oh my god, what's attracting them to this place? Is it the end of the world? What the hell is going on?" she asked aloud.
"No, it's not the end of the world," you told her, even though you hardly believed the words yourself.
But wasn't Michael considered to be the bringer of the End of Days?
No, you had to block those thoughts out of your head. He could be helped. He could be saved. This wasn't his fate. You were sure this could be reversed.
"Then what the fuck is going on? I don't understand! I just want them to go away!" Olivia raised her voice over the sound of the crows cawing.
You would then tell her to go back inside and she would listen, eventually, not without bickering for a while, though.
It almost became a routine of yours to wish the worshiping crows away, but eventually, it felt like it was becoming stronger, and you had to muster more of your strength and power into the spell in order to get rid of them, it was taking more out of you.
In the beginning, you didn't say anything to Michael about it, but this quickly became a constant occurrence, and so you could only hold off on telling him for so long.
"They're here for me. I-I don't know how to make them go away," Michael told you in a small voice, a look of dread etched on his face. "It's my fault. They wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me."
"It's okay, it's okay," you reassured him. "I'll get rid of them."
And that was what you did. Over and over and over again.
Then one day, you had to deal with a bigger issue than the ominous crows.
You were preparing dinner when Olivia approached you with some bad news.
"Miriam keeps calling, she wants to talk to you," Olivia started, handing you her cellphone. "She said you won't answer her calls or texts."
You sent her a text shortly after you had everything in order with Michael's staying here, telling her that you wouldn't be coming back home, and you had been ignoring her multiple texts and phone calls. Eventually she stopped trying to reach you because you wouldn't answer her. But now it looked like she was hassling your best friend about it, instead.
"What? And you answered her? I told you not to answer her calls if she tries to contact you!" you scolded her, a fiery glare on your face.
"She wouldn't stop blowing up my phone! She was calling and calling and then she sent me threatening texts, telling me she'd sacrifice me to Satan and then feed me to some goat god if I didn't answer her. I don't wanna die!" Olivia yelled back at you in her defense.
"And I don't want to talk to her! You shouldn't have picked up!" you shot back.
"She's not taking no for an answer. She knows you're here. Just hear what she has to say because I can't take it anymore," Olivia persisted, waving her smartphone in your face.
You frowned at her before grabbing her cellphone, reluctantly answering. "What do you want?"
"Where have you been? Why the hell won't you come back home?" Miriam barked at you.
"I don't want to go back. It was hell living there," you told her bitterly.
"Whether you like it or not, that's where you'll be burning with me," Miriam warned. "It's been several weeks, and you left without saying a word except for that sorry excuse for a text! 'Sorry Mom, I'm not coming back home!'" she said, doing a poor imitation of your voice. "I thought you were just going to throw your little temper tantrum and then you'd be back in a few days, but no, you're doing this to spite me aren't you? What's going on? Did you run away with some boy? And Olivia is covering for you?" Miriam continued. You could hear the anger in her voice.
"Mom, I'm not coming back. I'm sorry. But hey, look on the bright side you can let some psycho have my room now, again," you spat.
"Oh come on honey, when are you gonna get over that? Just come back home and we can talk things out!" Miriam demanded.
"Mom, not this time," you stressed.
"Why not? We've always done it before! You just left me, what's a mother supposed to do? This is not like you. Usually you always make some dramatic exit," Miriam said, recalling all the times you had done that, and it was a lot.
"I'm sorry but I just can't. You won't have to worry about me anymore," you told her, feeling a twinge of guilt in the pit of your stomach. She was still your mother, at the end of the day.
"I'm coming over right now. We are going to talk things out, missy, I don't care what you say," Miriam began, not taking no for an answer.
"No, don't come over! Seriously, don't," you snapped. No, she couldn't come over. She couldn't meet Michael. He couldn't meet the Satanists. You already knew what the outcome would be if they met.
"Too late! I'm on my way," Miriam said before hanging up immediately, dismissing you.
"Shit," you cursed under your breath and handed Olivia her phone back.
"What happened?" Olivia asked.
"She's coming over, but I won't be here. Neither will Michael. Don't let her in if you can help it, okay?" you explained.
"What? What's going on? Why do you guys have to leave?" Olivia questioned, her brows furrowed together in confusion.
"I don't have time to explain. Just tell her that I'm not here anymore, please," you begged.
"Where are you guys gonna go?" Olivia asked, but you were already running off to get Michael in your room. "Okay, I'll just stay back here, and try not to get killed by your mother," Olivia half-joked, an expression that said 'yikes' on her face.
You rushed to the room and found Michael on the bed in his pajamas. He was playing video games.
"Michael, we have to go," you told him solemnly.
"What? Why?" he asked, pausing his game.
"We have to go, now. Grab your stuff and then we're leaving," you instructed, your tone leaving no room for debate.
"Did something happen?" he asked as he started to stuff his belongings in a bag. You did the same and had trouble meeting his worried gaze.
"We just can't stay here any longer. But don't worry, I have it all figured out, everything's under control," you said with a weak smile. You didn't know if you were trying to convince him or yourself. "We weren't supposed to stay here as long as we did, anyway."
"Why? I liked it here," Michael replied with a frown, a crease in his brows.
"The crows won't leave. I used to be able to make them go away for a few days, but they just keep coming and I don't know what to do, anymore," you answered, half-lying to him. That was part of the reason, but you couldn't tell him the part about Miriam.
"So we have to leave because of me?" Michael whispered, looking like a kicked puppy.
"No, not because of you, because of the crows," you replied simply.
"But the crows are here because of me," Michael said, looking back at you and zipping his bag.
That was totally true. You just didn't want to make him feel bad.
"Michael, stop. It's okay. Everything's fine," you assured. "You trust me, right?"
Michael nodded his head. "Yeah, yeah I do."
"Good. Let's go now," you smiled at him and left the room with Michael by your side.
You snatched Olivia's car keys that was sitting on the counter.
"We are taking your car. We'll try to bring it back. Thank you, I love you!" you called out to her as you headed to the front door, making a speedy exit.
"You better, I'm gonna need that back!" Olivia raised her voice at you but you were already out the door. "Whatever, it's not like I leave the house anyway."
When you left the house, you looked up and saw the crows were covering the sky once again, under the ominous grey clouds, cawing as they encircled above you.
You rushed to the car with Michael, throwing the bags in the backseat, and started driving off quickly without looking back. Michael, on the other hand, was staring out the window as the birds slowly faded from view. The sky quickly shifted to shades of blue and the clouds thinned out.
"Where are we going?" Michael asked, turning to you.
"Miss Robichaux's Academy," you answered, glancing back at him with a warm smile, though you couldn't help but start to feel a sense of anxiety about it. What if they wouldn't help him? What if they couldn't? What if they shunned him away? What would your next move be then? You tried to stray away from those thoughts. You had to be strong, for the both of you.
"You're going to be good, right? You're going to let them help you and guide you, and you're not going to lash out at them if something doesn't go your way or if you don't understand something. You won't dare hurt them, ever, right?" you asked, your eyes drifted from the road to look at Michael again.
"I promise," Michael said with a nod of his head. "Do you think they can really help me?" he questioned, a somber expression on his face. He was having his doubts, too.
"Yes, they will be able to help you," you reassured. "I know it."
"I trust you," he echoed, making your lips curve into a genuine smile. "I'd go anywhere with you, follow you wherever."
Your heart swelled in your chest. You let the words float between you two for a moment, a tiny sparked ember of hope.
"Do you trust me?" he asked suddenly, needing more reassurance from you.
"Of course I do," you smiled as your gaze shifted back to the road.
He couldn't understand why you believed in him, why you were helping him. He needed you, wholeheartedly, and you weren't going to let him down. There was a way to save the Antichrist. That was what you kept telling yourself anyway.
It was supposed to just be a road trip. But somehow it felt like more than that. It had this air of finality about it.
You noticed that Michael had been taking in every bit of the scenery as you drove further and further away.
It hit you, in that moment, that Michael hadn't seen much of the world. He hadn't seen much outside of Constance's home.
There was a tenderness to his face, he was in absolute awe. He wanted to see as much of the natural beauty of Earth as possible.
He looked beautiful.
It took your breath away.
His hand sought yours. And you reached your hand out that wasn't on the wheel, intertwining your fingers with his, feeling them strong and warm. He lifted your hand up to press a gentle kiss upon your skin, and you felt your heart stutter in your chest.
You were his light. His joy. His anchor. You were the star, burning brightly and loudly. Michael was the darkness that would eventually surround the star, crushing every last bit of beauty and light from its once burning core. Michael wanted nothing more than to absorb that light and let it twine through his own soul, become someone worthy enough to be loved.
You had expected the trip to Louisiana to take over 28 hours, more adding in the stops along the way, but you were just happy to have Michael by your side and so was he.
An hour later the city disappeared in a trail of overpasses and traffic lights, the sun had set and had taken with it the oppressive heat of the day. As you weaved through the winding roads that led into the mountains, cool even air streamed in through the open windows. The only light was the soft glow of the speedometer and the blur of streetlights behind you two. You had been listening to the GPS to direct you.
You looked over at Michael sleeping in the passenger seat, his face pressed up against the half-open window. He was sound asleep. He was a heavy sleeper.
You smiled. He was going to have one hell of a funny line across his cheek when he finally did wake up.
His jacket was draped over him like a blanket, and the wind ruffled his hair. The moonlight reflecting off of the painted lines on the road danced across his features. He looked like a sleeping angel.
After driving for a little while longer, your stomach started to grumble. You figured it was taking to take a break. You woke up Michael and asked him what he wanted before entering the drive thru of a fast food restaurant, ordering burgers and fries for the both of you.
When the food arrived you two started eating, happy to be finally filling your stomachs with some much needed grease.
"So is this part of the road trip experience? Lots of unhealthy food?" Michael asked, munching on a fry and finishing the remnants from the fry container.
"Yes, of course. It's the best part," you answered with a giggle, taking a sip of your soda.
"Your laugh is so beautiful. I don't think I could ever tire of hearing that sound," Michael commented, staring back at you with such a fondness in his face, like you had the power to light his whole world. He somehow found everything you did to be endearing in some way.
You always seemed at a loss for words when Michael would compliment you. You would often take too long trying to think of the right response before you would coyly say, "Thank you."
Your gazes held, both of them blinking and quaking with lurching, unspoken desires, and the piercing blue of his eyes left you completely and utterly captivated.
He was smiling at you before his arm came around you, sliding up your back to tangle itself in your hair, drawing you close to him and then pressing his lips upon yours. Your blood was thrumming, your body trembling slightly with pent-up energy instead of nerves, and you allowed it to guide your own hand to Michael's jaw and you obliged him. You both inhaled deeply, unwilling to break apart again, and surged forward like waves crashing into each other.
Your hands framed Michael's face, thumbs tracing the strong structure of his face and your spine shaking as his lips parted. You let Michael guide you, body impossibly warm and mind hazed with need as your tongues met then danced apart, only to meet again moments later.
When you two finally pulled away for air, you weren't surprised in the slightest when Michael maneuvered you both around the car to the backseat. His body was now above you and his lips found yours as his hands moved between your face and your chest, squeezing your breasts through your clothing and then dropping to the buttons on your blouse. An incoherent plea escaped from the back of your throat as his touch worked over your stomach, under your top, clambering to the underside of your bra to smooth fingertips over the thin material, teasing at your hard nipples. You groaned into his mouth and reached around him, gripping his backside and pulling him close so that you could grind your hips up against him.
He rocked against you, kissing you deeply, his tongue pressing hard against yours in a way that you wished he'd press it against your clit. He pulled his mouth away only to nip and lick down your neck, and you scooted further back into the backseat, pulling him after you with hands tight on his backside again. An appreciative sound hummed through his lips as he buried his face within your neck, kissing the base of your throat, his breath teasing goosebumps from your skin.
You kicked your shoes off impatiently and he did the same before kissing you once more, greedily sliding his hands across the sides of your body, helping you guide your shirt up over your head.
You knew this was so very reckless, first of all, it wasn't the smartest idea to be having sex in a car, someone could catch you two and that could create a far bigger problem than your need to be fucked by Michael, and secondly, you knew that you shouldn't be having sex in your friend's car. But both things simultaneously created a jolt of a thrill for you. Something about Michael just made you crave to be sinful, made you crave to indulge in every little thing your past inhibitions had held you back from. Michael was a bad influence on you, or perhaps you were both a bad influence on each other.
As soon as your shirt was gone he plunged his face towards your breasts, his breath hot down your cleavage, mouth sucking and nipping at each swell down to the edge of your bra band. You let yourself moan again, throwing your head back and pushing against his mouth as his fingers worked at the clasp on your back.
He fumbled at it for a few moments until you reached around to release it yourself, and then as soon as the bra fell into your lap he caught one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue over the hard, sensitive tip.
His hands felt like they were all over you, smoothing hot lines across your ribs and up and around your back and sides, one eventually rising to cup the breast his mouth wasn't on, his fingers pinching and twisting at that nipple. His lips wrapped around your right nipple, sucking hard as his tongue set a fluttering pattern behind his lips. You groaned and leaned further into it as the heat of his mouth pulled at you, as his teeth scraped over you with just the slightest pressure, and every touch sent sparks down your back that left you wet and aching until your patience gave out and you pulled his face up to yours again, kissing him hungrily as you began to work on unbuttoning and unzipping your pants. He moved away from you momentarily to pull his own shirt over his head. That was when you switched positions and you were now on top.
You took in his smooth torso, the dusting of hair over soft skin, and abandoned removing your pants to lean forward and drop a line of nips from his collarbone to his navel. He quivered under your fingers, his abdomen shaking as he held his muscles tight, and by the time you brushed over his nipples, he was basically vibrating against your touch.
"Shit," he breathed, whispering your name.
You paused over his nipples, making a soft circle around each one with your index fingers, and then dragged the back of your fingernails over the hardened nubs. He gasped at the sensation, and his fingers closed hard over your hips as he ground himself up underneath you.
You teased him until he was writhing from it, until he was gasping for breath and grunting in a way that made you wonder if you could make him come like this. You didn't have much of a chance to wonder, though, before Michael pulled you up to fold you into another engulfing kiss and you both shivered as your bare chests met. Finally, his hands found your waistband again and began to tug, completing the work you had started. Messily, you raised your body, shucking at the pants with your hips as Michael pulled the material down your thighs and legs. He tugged at your pants more insistently until you kicked one of the two legs fully free, and then he moved your free leg aside, sliding a hand up the inside of your thigh and rubbing a line with his thumb over the damp material of your underwear.
You stifled a curse and arched your back, propping yourself on your elbows and exposing your throat to the roof of the car as Michael rubbed you again with his fingers and the heel of his hand. You let out a shuddering breath and pushed impatiently against his touch; he took the hint and grabbed the waistband of your underwear, peeling it slowly away from your skin. Achingly slowly. You clenched your teeth and felt sweat break out on your temples and chest as he stroked the inside of your thigh again, gradually drawing your pants out of the way.
Opening your legs, he inhaled the same cool air that was scratching your skin and stopped for a second to just look at you, soft and warm, flush face and eyes full of each one of the stars above that spied on you two.
At last he let his thumb push between your hot folds, dipping into the gathering wetness there and sliding a line up over your clit. You gasped, looking down at him, and feeling the skin of your chest burn again as his eyes roved over you, plump lips quirking into a wondering smile. He rubbed his digit gently over your clit at first, circling and adding pressure gradually, until he couldn't wait any longer and moved forward to press his open mouth against you, sweeping over you with his tongue and pressing its tip against you so that you squirmed under him. You moaned and tilted your hips towards him, wordlessly begging for more as the center of you throbbed with need.
He slid one finger and then another deep inside you, making your hips rise up again as he rubbed you gently, his tongue still working against your clit.
You felt dizzy, assailed with vertigo as Michael's touch steadily built up the pressure inside you. It began to break free as a sound in the back of your throat, whimpers tumbling from your lips unevenly until his mouth left you and he clambered closer across your body, reaching so that his hand could still move within and against you. He drew the back of his free hand across his mouth and grinned before leaning down, kissing you and catching the sounds you made. His murmured shushes against your lips just wound you tighter, your mouths sloppy against each other, the taste of yourself covering his tongue and face.
"You taste just like heaven," Michael murmured.
His thumb continued to move back and forth over and around you, flicking and pressing at your clit as you floundered, gasping at his mouth for air, your hands locked in the thick hair at the nape of his neck. Pulsating waves lifted your hips and ass from the leathery surface of the backseat, buffeting you into deep waters you had no control over. Michael kept his mouth on yours even as it opened wide, dragging his teeth across your lips and swallowing the hoarse curse that you let out.
Before the pulses within you had fully receded, he sat up quickly, one hand still sliding over you, but the other fluttering to his own groin, hovering by the pressure in his pants. He closed his eyes and bit his lip hard and the objection you had died on your lips as you too sat up, willing him not to come yet.
You moved his hand off you and knelt in front of him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him gently this time, pressing your lips to his and stroking his sweat-damp temples. After a moment he responded, opening his mouth and slowly pushing his tongue inside yours again.
Carefully, softly, you undid the button of his pants and unzipped it before pushing them down along with his underwear. He fidgeted and twisted so that you could drag the clothes off his body.
You maneuvered him onto his back and pushed his legs aside to kneel between them. Smirking at his pleading expression, you lowered yourself slowly, first to kiss him and draw your hanging breasts across the skin of his chest.
His teeth snagged at his lower lip again. He whispered your name, his eyes wide, vulnerable. Even with nothing but moonlight and two street lights to see by, you could see the red blossoming under Michael's skin. You couldn't help but think that Michael was more than just devilishly handsome – he was ethereal, beautiful, breath-taking. His face was partly cast in shadow, but you could see the way his blue eyes seemed to burn for you.
You continued to move back so that the hot line of his cock was threaded between your breasts. You pressed them together momentarily and he gasped before you moved on, finally taking hold of the stem of his cock and starting to lick around the base of the hard vein there.
You licked the length of his cock and wrapped your mouth around its tip, your tongue fluttering over the slit at the end, pressing and teasing its way around the head. Slowly, you moved your lips lower, gradually taking more of him into your mouth, growing more aware as you did so of the heat swelling again in your own body.
He grunted your name, his hips rocking after you'd managed to work your lips to the base of his cock, feeling its head push against the back of your mouth.
"Mmm," you replied, letting the sounds vibrations run through your lips to the head of his cock as you withdrew your mouth.
He made another helpless sound, but you picked up on what he wanted to say: he wanted to be inside you. Fire bloomed in your stomach and you released his cock from your mouth, crawling up his body again to kiss him, hard. "Yes," you told him. "Yes, I want you inside me."
Michael's hands glided across your skin, squeezing at your breasts, ass, thighs. He swung an arm around your waist and the two of you grappled together as he flipped you onto your back, pushing his cock urgently against your wet slit. Forcing himself to slow down when you let out a desperate breath, he lifted himself up on his arms and guided the tip of his cock against you, sliding through your wetness and rubbing it unevenly against your clit.
You made yourself open your eyes, taking in his loosely dropped eyelids, the soft, asymmetrical 'o' formed by his mouth open, and the way strands of his golden hair clung to the sweat on his forehead. You looked down at the pink head of his cock thrusting up inside your heat, slick with the evidence of your own desire, and an urgent mewl crept out of your mouth again.
A frown of concentration deepened on his forehead, and he pulled back and took a deep breath, looking down at you as though he was trying to remember every detail. You loved the way his eyes seemed to want to close as he pushed up inside of you, the way he fought to keep looking at you. Slowly, he motioned his hips forward, his cock pressing the folds of you aside, filling you smoothly. You rose your hips into it, groaning and pushing back against him.
Michael lowered himself again, his lips finding yours, trembling needily against your mouth as he began to grind his hips against yours. You grabbed them, one hand on each side of him, pulling harder against you as he increased the speed of his movements.
Your mouths and teeth marked trails along each other's necks, Michael once taking the lobe of your ear in his mouth and sucking hard on it so that an utterly unfamiliar sound crawled from your throat. You gripped him with your thighs, feeling your nipples drag against the skin of his chest as he flattened himself to you, burying his sweaty forehead against your neck and shoulder.
He thrust hard against you, straining for more friction, only just mindful of the low ceiling of the car, and his eyes tightened shut, the frown line between his brows lengthening as his mouth hung open. In this hot bubble of the car, your sweat mingling with the heat on your skin and hips frantically meeting, your pants and moans loud as you clung to one another, you might have been the only two beings in the whole universe. His hands skated down your back to clutch at your ass and it was too much sensation to process until he was pressed all the way inside of you.
It was a slow burn until you couldn't take it anymore, until you had to pull back far enough to work your hips harder, faster against him.
Your breathed out his name desperately, and he suddenly found himself very, very close. He held onto you tightly, biting his lip in concentration, as you two continued to move together, hoping to hold back for your sake and for his––not wanting this to end. Again his name was torn from your throat as you keened, slamming your hips into his. He felt you clench tightly around him as the rhythm of your hips faltered, then slowed, then stopped.
You reached a hand down to rub at your clit in quick, heated movements, panting heavily as you felt your heart race wildly. You felt yourself coming again even as his own movements slowed and grew erratic, his face slackening as he finally let himself go inside you, his lips moving silently over words he probably wasn't even aware of.
When you came you cried out, flushed with heat, rocked into it, and a second orgasm hit you almost immediately. Your fingers tightened painfully and he was pushing up into you, his breath stuttering in harsh gasps.
Your pants filled the car, you were both recovering, breathing too hard to get one word out. Sweat trickled down his neck and dripped onto your skin.
Finally letting out a satisfied groan, he lowered himself into your arms again, nuzzling his face against your neck and jawline. You sighed happily and ran your fingers along the soft channel of his spine, feeling his sweat grow cool already. He opened his eyes to see you looking at him, both of you reluctant to move, to disentangle yourselves, despite your more than slightly uncomfortable positions.
You did your best to clean up using a few leftover napkins from the glove box after you two dressed yourselves.
"Olivia's going to kill me," you whispered under your breath, mostly to yourself.
"I know," Michael agreed. "You stole her car and then we fucked in it."
You gave him a look.
"I'm terrible," you said with a puff of a laugh.
"Oh well, it's not like she'll be getting it back any time soon," Michael chuckled, a smirk on his lips.
You were both terrible.
Soon after you two were back on the road as always, listening to some music and exchanging a few sentences every time the name of a new town appeared in the form of a road sign. You kept driving to reach the first available motel in a small town. It was dubious at best, with burnt out light bulbs and cracked pavement, but that was exactly what you two needed. The type of place that asked few questions and preferred cash over credit. The motel only offered you two a room with one bed.
The room had no air conditioning. The night was muggy, heat like wet wool settling on your skin and weighing you two down. Almost all the other rooms were empty, a moonbeam entered from the lowered shutters, walls covered in faded wallpaper. It would have to do, though.
"I'm going to take a shower," you told Michael, throwing your bag to the side of the small bed.
"Okay," Michael answered with a nod of his head. He fell backward onto the bed and sprawled across it, his limbs taking up all the space there was. When he extended, his fingertips reached from one edge of the bed to the other, and his feet hung off the edge by a few inches. This was going to be a tight fit.
You switched the water on and you were quick to undress, leaving your clothes on a heap by the bathroom counter before stepping into the shower. You started humming to yourself as the hot water soothed your bones and drenched your hair. You closed your eyes as you started to rub shampoo in your hair.
You had only been in there for a few minutes before turning around and when you opened your eyes, they were met with an earnest, blue gaze. Michael had decided to join you.
There was a light in his eyes that always made your heart stutter, made you feel treasured. Soaking wet was a good look on him. Not that he ever had a bad look. Such a thing didn't even seem possible for Michael.
"Michael," you whispered, you were swept away straight into a blue-eyed storm, just long enough for the shower door to swing open and your breath to hitch before his hands were wild in your hair and his lips were on yours.
It was light and searching at first, a gentle slide of your lips together as you took solace in having Michael so near. But something about the whole thing––the close quarters of the shower, the steam rising around you two, the slickness of his wet skin, the care with which he kissed you back––made it feel unbearably intimate. It ignited a warmth in your belly that had you suddenly aching for more.
For a shimmering moment, you tasted only his lips, and then he devoured you, and the long, low whimper that poured from you was a sound of sheer surrender.
You kissed him a little more firmly, sucking on his lower lip, and Michael's arms came around you, his hands splayed wide over your skin as they slid down to your lower back, pulling you in against him. Your breasts pressed against his chest and the feeling of his half-hard cock caught between you two which made you moan softly as heat flared in your veins, and you gently slanted your mouth open to deepen the kiss. The velvet slide of his tongue over yours made you shiver, craving more.
You two stayed that way for what felt like an eternity, wrapped around each other as the water beat against your back, trading increasingly heated kisses. You were beginning to feel a little dizzy with desire, wanting more of him and thinking of suggesting you two finish your shower and move things elsewhere, when Michael shifted.
Suddenly he was moving you both, shuffling you two around in a circle and pressing you up against the wall of the shower, his hand flat against the tile next to your head and his other briefly palming your breast before falling to grip your hip as he laid a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat.
When your knees shook he caught you, swept you up into his arms and against him. Your arms clung to his slick shoulders, the sound of the water distant to the roar of need and your shared gasps. His mouth was searing heat that rushed to your bones, flooded your senses with the scent of him––sweat and musk and something that was Michael alone.
Your hands tangled in his wet hair, you slid your fingers through before gripping the back of his head.
He pulled back, and you both took a moment to breathe, your eyes locked on his.
The shower was still running, you thought through the daze and heat of his kiss, and you let your fingers play with the damp strands of his hair.
Another breath, and those beautiful blue eyes opened, dark and focused. You shivered against the heat of him, sigh of need ghosting past your lips.
"I'm not finished with you, yet," Michael said, voice a tangled, resigned whisper.
His breath hitched as he spent some time just looking at you. You did your share too, and decided there were few sights on this Earth as pleasant as he was, soaking wet and completely bare before you.
You smiled at him, pleased, and he groaned, followed by a chuckle as he reached for you again.
His hands, feather-light, shook against your back, fingers running the length of it in silent admiration. You shuddered at his touch and leaned in, pulling him back to meet his open mouth with yours.
The heat was shimmering promises, a slow, strong burn as his hands traced slowly up, brushing against your breasts with interest, but reserving reverence for your skin alone, as his thumbs skimmed under your chin and rested on your cheeks. Your own followed a similar path, sliding up his chest before resting lazily around his shoulders.
He wasn't greedy. Even as you craved, he didn't take, only sought, and you gave freely, whimpering against him. He drew you closer, deepening the gentle, sweet kiss as you went pliant.
The warm water sent rainbows into the steam as you both held your breath. The contact with irresistible. You shifted against the heat beneath you, letting your tongue run over the hollow of his neck and then allowing your teeth to graze the spot next.
Michael shuddered, and you felt him respond, felt the rumble of his low, sworn curse in the fingers splayed on his chest before it formed in sound from his lips.
You heard him take a breath, and he was kissing you again.
This time there was no floating. You careened, crashed, desperate, as the spark lit your blood and swamped you with staggering need––a battlefield in the pouring rain as the water streamed over you both, stealing your breath as surely as you stole one another's. Touch, taste, take, your body against him, hands dragging to his dripping hair, and this time he didn't stop, just tossed you higher against him for a better angle, pressing you against the wall and taking you both out of the direct flow, in as much as he could in the space meant for one. Even now, his hands were gentle – insistent, everywhere, but soft on your skin, and kind.
You wanted more, needed more, and dragged your hands from his hair across slick skin, stretched soft over muscle, shoulders, back, hips, you dragged your nails across the firm, lithe lines and whimpered when he moaned. He let your weight rest against the condensation soaked wall, thrusting your legs tight around his hips. Lowering his hands to your breasts, his fingers hot and urgent, made you tremble, and beg. "Michael––please!"
You lifted his head, hands light on his cheeks this time – a promise, always, that you wouldn't break from his strength, and shifted against him, against the hardness and heat you wanted.
His eyes, clouded, fluttered close, but they opened once more and reflected in them was only you. He murmured your name, voice soft and low, thick with his own need, and one of his hands took its time trailing down you, and a finger skimmed between your thighs and into you, and you buckled as he stroked.
Reckless and smoldering, his lips worshiped your shape, trailing anywhere they could reach, dragging the ache back into your bones and blood, sending it simmering into stark need. You tried to speak, to tell him something, anything, but all you managed was the breathless whisper of his name, sworn into his skin, as he brought you, tense and ready, to the brink and over it in a shuddering wave of scorching heat. It broke through you, thrilling through every inch of wet skin, and you steeped yourself in it, in him, though your legs fell from his waist in dazed satiety.
You might have slid down as your unsteady heels slipped on the tiled floor, but he caught you, kissing you once more, stealing the sweet murmur of his name with strokes of a tongue that was greedy at last. "Michael..."
He pulled away, breathing hard as he rested his forehead against yours, hands shaking. You gasped, sucking in lungfuls of steam and air that simply hadn't seemed worth it when the alternative was that irrepressibly earnest, consuming kiss. His eyes closed briefly, seeking control, and then opened, found yours, and your heart pulsed at the love you saw there, the warmth, and your blood heated at the desire alongside it.
You were in the shower to get cleaned, but Michael seemed to have other ideas, and you simply couldn't refuse him. You were under his spell and you were far too gone now to break out of it. He could have you, when and wherever he wanted, it didn't matter, just as long as he stayed with you and never left your side.
"Michael," you sighed, sensation shooting a bolt of lust straight to your core.
"You're mine," he murmured against your neck, his words were not lost on the rush of the water behind you two. His teeth scraped over your collarbone, making your breath skip.
"You're mine, and I'll never let you go," he insisted, a desperate tinge to his voice. He was pressing fervent kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your jaw, your neck. "No matter what."
You whimpered, wanting to tell him that you were his, always, but then he was kissing you again, hungry and deep, his hands coming back up to fully cup your breast. You both moaned, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, wanting him even closer, needing to feel every inch of him pressed against you. His cock, fully hard now, was prodding insistently into your lower stomach, and you felt another jolt of arousal wash through you. You needed him now, and if the way Michael's hands were roaming over you as he kissed you like he couldn't bear to part from you, he felt the same way.
You pressed your lips to his, until he took them back to instead nip at your ears, pulling wet strands of hair away from your neck to kiss there next. He grinned sheepishly, and gripped your thigh as you lifted it, wrapping a leg around him once more.
He groaned against your mouth as the head of his cock pushed at your folds, and you tilted your hips as best as you could in your position to let him fully grind against you. The tease of his shaft sliding over your clit, the promise of having him buried inside of you, made your head fall back against the tile as you gasped, tightening your leg around him.
"Michael," you begged, feeling like you were burning up from the inside out with want for him. "Michael, please."
He grabbed your ass with both hands, hiking you up against the wall with a grunt and using his weight to pin you there. You let out a small squeak, but immediately wrapped both your legs around his waist, desperate to have him. It took a moment of clumsy maneuvering, your panting breaths mingling in between you two, before Michael finally caught his cock at your entrance and pushed into you with a few short, strong strokes.
He nuzzled your neck, and bit as he thrust in, hard and deep, and the slow heat hit boiling, it was urgent and ravaging and insatiable.
You moaned as he filled you, stretching you in the most perfect way, and Michael let out a shaky breath against your cheek as his hips came flush with yours. Then he adjusted his grip on you, his fingers slipping slightly against your slick skin, and started a sharp, steady rhythm.
Your legs locked around his waist meant he couldn't go far, but Michael made up for the shallow depth of his thrusts with the force of them, hard and fast, and you cried out again as he stroked over something delicious inside of you, shooting sparks of pleasure through your body.
"Fuck," he muttered harshly against your jaw, and you loved the way his fingers were clenching into your flesh, his breath hot on your skin, the sound of the water falling and pounding in your ear. You dug your heels into his back and canted your hips more into him, changing the angle slightly and putting more pressure on your clit, taking the pleasure you were getting from him and setting it on fire.
"Michael, Michael, yes, please, yes," you gasped, holding onto him tightly. "More, please."
He buried his face in your neck and sucked at your pulse point as he snapped his hips into yours even harder. You wanted him to take you apart, to feel him come apart too inside you.
Breathless, you rode with him, hands scrambling for purchase on wet skin. You squirmed against him and the wall, arched best you could and rocked, gasping as he did, and your hands dragged down the front of him, following the trails and droplets of water as they made their way through the grooves and dips of muscle. Your nails dug, body bucked, and still he drove you both on, his control frayed.
He shifted you both, pulling you hard around him and you nearly shrieked as you both went back into the spray and stream of water, but his teeth grazed your lips and sucked on the sound until it escaped in a moan. He thrust deep and you rose high, crying out as pleasure racked you to your core, again, again, and soon you clung to his shoulders, lost in the speed and sensation both slick and shattering.
His face was flushed and fierce, golden tangle of dripping hair wreathed in steam. He bent, tongue sweeping across the peaks of your breasts, and you matched his pace, arching as he drove into you under waves of water. The hand on your thigh tightened, the other tangled in your wet hair, gripping into a fist, and you responded in kind, pulling back, then meeting his open mouth with yours, sinking into the kiss, just as demanding, just as mad.
Pressed against him, you felt the pulse and pound of his heart. All that energy, endurance, the goodness and the gentleness, the wildness and the want of him - it was yours as you were his. Your breath quickened, you moved together, pressed your hungry lips to where you felt his pulse, and felt your name form alongside it even as you murmured his in a ragged breath.
You were close; you could feel it. Michael's arms were straining to keep you up, and you could feel your back slipping against the wet tile. Just a little more... You clutched Michael closer and wound your fingers into his hair, raking hour nails over his scalp as you moaned at the thick slide of him in and out of you, sending you higher and higher.
Michael chanted your name, it sounded like a prayer falling from his lips.
Your orgasm hit you hard, making your vision go fuzzy at the edges and your body seize up around him before dissolving into shivers as pleasure coursed through you, drawn out by his continued rocking into you. Michael followed shortly after, his thrusts turning disjointed before he jolted inside you with a groan, his fingers digging even deeper into your skin, and when he found his release he took you with him in a tumbling, feverish fall.
You panted, trying to hold onto Michael and let you two ease through the afterglow, but his hands slipped and one of your feet fell to the tiled floor of the shower, forcing him to slip out of you. Michael caught you by the arms to steady you as you lowered your other leg, too, and pressed in to lay gentle kisses against your temple as you got your bearings again. You could hardly feel your legs. One thing you definitely learned from being with Michael is that he had a lot of stamina, and you didn't know if you were going to be able to keep up with him, but you were certainly going to try.
He pulled you into his lap in the limited space as you both attempted to catch your breath. You cuddled into him, pleased when his arms wrapped you in a hug as gentle as his passion had been consuming. He brushed your wet hair away once more, kissing your temple, and for a moment, you reveled in the simple satisfaction of languorous, boneless relaxation, and being in the arms of the man you loved.
"I'm yours," he murmured, tucking a wayward strand of wet hair behind your ear.
You turned your face into him before kissing his jaw. "And I'm yours," you said, running your hands from his elbows to his shoulders and back again.
You two stood that way for a long moment, until you acknowledged that you needed to do something about his release leaking out of you and down your legs, and shifted past him to get back beneath the water, which had gone lukewarm. Michael, sensing your purpose without asking, snagged the washcloth hanging on a hook behind you and wet it down before he gave it to you. It didn't take long for you to clean yourself up, and then you cut the water to the shower.
You two toweled off and put on your pajamas in peaceful silence, and it was only once that you were both in bed, you snuggled up against Michael's side with your head pillowed on his shoulder, that you two spoke again.
"I'm so glad you're by my side," Michael said. He was drawing aimless small patterns on your arm with his fingers.
"Me too," you said softly. You shifted a little closer to him. You were a warm and reassuring presence at Michael's side, and Michael couldn't bring himself to move away. In the dim light of the room you could make out the slope of Michael's nose, the way his lips were slightly parted.
"I don't want to ever be without you," Michael murmured. He pressed a kiss to your hair. "I just want to stay with you, forever."
"I want that, too," you found yourself saying before your brain could keep up with you.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispered, his soft gaze locked on yours. "You're all I have."
Why did he have to get so sentimental all of a sudden? Saying things like that was only making you fall harder for him.
You were very much aware that Michael was attached to you. He didn't have anyone else. His grandmother had given up on him. His parents wanted nothing to do with him. In this timeline he didn't have your mother's love and support. You were the only person he could lean on. The only one who cared for him. You knew the danger in that. Though, you realized that you had become greedy. You wanted him all to yourself. You loved the way he looked at you with such fondness in his eyes, the way he hung on to your every word, the way you would turn to your side and see him there, always with you, the way he would cling to you at times like this like you were the only one that mattered.
You didn't think you could ever get enough of that feeling.
"I don't want you to worry about that because it's not going to happen. I'll always be with you," you told him and pecked his nose quickly before resting your head back upon his shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere."
You had come to realize that Michael needed to be reassured, a lot, due to his abandonment issues. You couldn't blame him for being insecure, but you just wanted to make him feel safe, to give him peace of mind, for him to be happy.
"Okay," Michael hummed softly before his eyes drifted shut.
In the cradle of night, when dawn was coming in only a few more hours, you two curled around each other, and he said your name like prayer.
The next morning rolled by and you were on the highway, with the sun just beginning to rise. There was wind in your hair and sunlight on your face as you drove, the signs and miles flying past.
After some time had passed, you started looking for the nearest gas station because you were running low on gas.
When you finally found it, you parked the vehicle and told Michael to wait in the car.
You entered the gas station but there was a long line so you were waiting longer than you would have liked. When you finally came out, you filled your gas tank up, humming to yourself as you did so.
You returned to your car but the second you looked inside of it, your eyes went wide and your heart beat hard in your chest.
Michael was gone.
You told him to stay in the car.
You were already freaking out before you could even process the situation rationally. Of course, he couldn't listen to directions. You cursed under your breath and took a moment to calm yourself.
He couldn't have gone far, but you didn't know what direction he wandered off to and where to start. You knew the longer you waited, the further he could venture off, or perhaps, get himself in some trouble, which practically always followed Michael.
You decided it was best not to waste time on thinking about where he could be. You had to take action and look for him, now.
You bolted straight ahead and proceeded to a street, calling out Michael's name as you searched for him. You looked through windows at restaurants and any building that was within your path. Still no sight of him.
You started to fear the worst.
What if he had hurt someone? What if he had killed someone?
You wouldn't be there to calm the situation or to stop him.
You weren't gone long but you knew what he was capable of. You knew the destruction he could create even in a short amount of time.
You continued calling his name out but it only granted you stares from fellow pedestrians. You crossed another street, running on the pavement as you looked for any sign of Michael.
You took a moment, trying to catch your breath when you got your sign.
Right across from you, stood a church on the edge of town.
But it wasn't just any church.
You looked up and spotted a large upside down cross at the center of the building, next to it was a pentagram with Baphomet in the middle of it. You swallowed thickly.
Without a second thought, you walked through the doors, fear mercilessly gripping your heart.
The church was dimly lit and Satanic symbols and emblems covered the walls and the surrounding space.
There was a high priest preaching in front of a congregation about how to properly sin if you wanted to get Satan's attention, otherwise he might not 'hear' you.
The church was filled with people but you caught sight of a mop of blonde curls in the pew at the back. You sighed, a deep frown on your face.
You approached Michael, tapping on his shoulder. He seemed to be listening intently, curious and attentive.
"We have to go. We have to get back on the road," you told him in a whisper.
He looked up at you and nodded his head. You reached out to grab his hand and you practically dragged him out of there, though, you noticed that his gaze was lingering back at the church.
When you two exited the church, you decided that you needed answers now.
"What were you doing in there?" you asked, your brows furrowed.
"I'm sorry, I know you told me to stay in the car-"
"Don't apologize, just tell me why," you interrupted him, taking a no-nonsense approach.
"I-It was calling to me. I've never been down this street before but somehow I knew where it was and I felt like I just had to go. It was almost like my body had made the decision for me before my brain could keep up," Michael explained. There was a pained expression on his face and a pitiful pout on his lips.
"Don't go in there again, okay? Never again," you repeated, your tone was somber.
Michael nodded his head quickly before he replied, "I won't."
"I told you to stay in the car," you quavered, frowning.
"I know, I shouldn't have done that," Michael answered, staring down at the ground and avoiding your gaze.
"Let's just go," you said, gripping tighter onto his hand. You started to walk away but then found yourself looking up at the church.
There was a sculpture of the Devil at the top of the building. You felt deeply unsettled just looking at it, your blood ran cold and an intense shiver ran down your spine.
The Devil was smiling. He was looking down at you. He was mocking you.