A/N: Deeper in feelings we dive. Enjoy Jonesmith – this's the thing of pure love. Some good clean… and not fun only. Enjoy!

Chapter 7. Close.

Mike closed the bathroom door behind him and leaned on the wall. That little bathroom appeared when they found themselves trapped, it was used just a few times and mostly at night. Funny, its door looked like the one of some wardrobe right in the wall and what the bathroom looked inside was clearly a wardrobe. And that was what Mike needed – some little dark wardrobe, where he could just sit in silence and think of everything. Mike just needed some time alone to calm down. The endless happiness filling everything and replacing the air wouldn't last forever, he understood it and so he had to get up and break away from the little one. It was getting dark outside and Mike didn't yet know how to survive the night. What if another challenge was waiting for him?..

It was hard and nearly physically painful to understand and admit that he couldn't sit there forever in Davy's arms. That hope that started rising from the bottom of Mike's heart – hope that he really was that warm corner Davy was searching for, that he was the one for Davy – faded. He didn't know why. It was just that the little one was a bit more courageous, that's all. He had an idea how to keep warm, maybe it looked quite embarrassing, but he used it. It worked – they were warm now – and Mike decided to leave Davy first. It was done just not to drown in the illusions.

Or maybe Davy saw everything. Maybe he knew. Maybe he wanted to relieve Mike. Maybe – just maybe – he felt the same. For a moment.

Mike squeezed his temples with his hands. No, no more illusions. He won't ask for anything back. He'll let it all be as it is. If the things he doesn't dare to dream about appear true… well, then he will do his best to keep it all. He will always be grateful. And if not… well, what does he expect? And, all in all, is it the first time when he hides his feeling deep inside?

Let just see.

- Rrrm, what's happening to me?

Mike hit the wall – and it suddenly broke. Well, in fact it didn't really break – it tore. Mike jerked his hand away – and stepped back in shock. He saw a great tornado through the hole in the paper wall. Mike blinked a few times – and understood. Sudden fear overwhelmed him. He was just standing on the floor in the heart of a huge tornado, protected from it only with four paper walls. Mike stepped back again, and again – and he nearly flied out of the bathroom. He closed the doors behind him and leaned on them, panting heavily.

Davy raised his head and looked at Mike.

- Hey. What's wrong?

- Aah! – Mike only managed.

- Again? – Davy asked suspiciously, coming up.

Mike exhaled.

- Don't, - he said, stretching his arm out so Davy wouldn't come any closer. – Just – don't.

Davy looked at him cautiously.

- As you wish, - he said.

Mike watched him walk calmly to the bed and take his nightgown. In that moment he should've looked somewhere else – but he couldn't help but stare, just to see a smooth golden back. Another little gift, a few more moments. Davy put on the nightgown and started fiddling with his pants to take them off. Mike quickly glanced at his own bed – and headed towards it playing calm.

It was still cold in the room. Awfully cold. Mike felt it especially clearly in that moment when he was standing half-naked, hurrying to put on his nightgown. He took off the pants quickly, jumped under the blanket – and curled up there to keep warm. Davy looked at him, sat down on his bed and sighed.

- What's wrong? – Mike asked, wrapping himself up in the blanket. – It's so cold here, why don'tcha just lay down? We have another blanket here just in case.

Davy tapped his chin with his fingers.

- You know, - he managed finally, - I don't wanna go to bed. I don't wanna fall asleep…

- You wanna freeze to death?

- Of course not… - Davy looked down. – I'm just… - a pause. – Mike, I'm scared, - he looked Mike in the eye. Mike met his stare and smiled at him softy.

- So what do you want me to do? Lay with you on your bed and sing you a lullaby?

- Let's just draw our beds together, - Davy suggested a little weakly.

Mike sat up on his bed.

- What do you mean? – he asked suspiciously.

- You know, like one big bed, - Davy replied, examining his own knees. – We'll move this cabinet that's between them somewhere and draw them together. So if anything is wrong I can wake you up… - he made a pause and added: - And vice versa.

Mike squinted.

- He-ey, - he said suspiciously. – You keep suggesting the most embarrassing things. I know we're in extreme conditions, but this doesn't mean…

- I'm scared, - Davy repeated quietly. – I need you. And… - he made a pause. – And I am warm. If I'm near you'll maybe feel a little more comfortable.

He looked so deep in Mike's eyes that Mike could feel him see the secrets of his, so he looked at the wall behind Davy's back. It was ridiculous. Davy sat on the bed opposite Mike looking at him in expectation – and begging. He was so helpless – and Mike felt as if they both were suddenly trapped in Davy's childhood, only Davy was a little boy and he, Mike, was a man to protect him, which he couldn't. In fact, they were trapped in Davy's childhood – in his boyhood nightmares.

'But come on, isn't it your heart's desire?' – a little inner voice suddenly whispered.

'Don't let him make you trust the illusions', - another voice warned. – 'Refuse and everything will be okay. Come on, you can say 'no'!'

'But you want to say 'yes'!' – the first voice remarked. 'And he wants you to as well. Don't you love him?'

- Ah, okay, - Davy sighed. – All in all, I just suggested. If you don't wanna…

'Don't let him make you feel guilty!' – the second voice shouted from inside.

'Oh come on, who are you listening to?' – the first voice interrupted. – 'He's not thinking of anything wrong. He's scared. You don't think he was right about your love that was quick to die, do you?'

Mike didn't know what to answer.

'And don't you love him?'

That was the cruellest – and the truest – reason. Mike stood up.

- Will you help me or what?

In that fight between Mike's heart and Mike's mind the heart won. It'd been winning most of the time lately and it made Mike wonder…

Davy climbed under his blanket and curled up on his side of the newly made double bed. He didn't want to bother. Mike heard him breathe and this sound brought calm to his troubled soul. He did all he could for the little one and he could enjoy another little gift. Oh goodness, thank you for him!

Mike closed his eyes and smiled to himself. He didn't really want to sleep, he was too excited. All the heavy rocks the day put on his shoulders the evening took away – Mike nearly felt them roll down his spine becoming somehow so light, they just tickled him a little before disappearing.

How pleasant it was to feel the shoulders again! Mike turned on his back and straightened, not opening his eyes – funny, there was so much free space. He could spread his wings – his hands. He was the air. He was a river – no, he was an ocean, endless and calm – and stormy, with thousands of currents – big – and little, the ones you wouldn't find on any map.

Map of him – The Unwritten and The Undrawn.

He Mike.

He will now spread his wings – and his waves, being the air and the ocean. All at once. He will caress the little one curled up on the shore – but won't let him drown. The little man is asleep, and he won't take advantage of his weakness. He will never take advantage of any of his weaknesses. Of his helplessness. Of his littleness. When he dares to show Mike his bare back – he won't stab him. He will hug him from the back.

But that might be – and might not. His warm waves now caress the little man. When he's awake, he's different. He's not the one you can imagine sleeping on the shore of Mike. He's the one you'd rather imagine fighting the waves of Mike – but he doesn't. He's a fighter – but he's not a sailor. He's firmly on his earth. And Mike hits and strokes the shore, he throws his tsunamis to earth – and he caresses it – and feet of the one standing on it.

The tsunamis don't reach the earth and the caresses come unnoticed.

He The Undrawn, The Unwritten – he is so humble in front of the little man.

But now he's near.

He's opened.

He's asleep.

Mike – The Unwritten, and he – The Unread. Written – and unread, drawn – and unshown. They're both hidden – but they're hidden differently. Mike's closed. The one to dare to draw him, to write him, to play him has to understand him, has to reach his depth. He's the ocean – he's an idea. And the little man is opened. He's a finished masterpiece ready to be seen – but nobody wants to see. Everybody sees the Mona Lisa's smile, but most of the tourists don't think about it.

Admiration and love – two different things often confused.

Suddenly something warm touched Mike – and The Unwritten and The Undrawn, the Ocean and the Air were immediately pressed back into the skinny body of an average skin-covered lamppost. Maybe the best lamppost – but He Mike was suddenly just simply Mike lying in bed with something warm on his side.

Mike looked at it – and didn't dare to move again. Davy was breathing into his ribs under the arm which was once a spread wing – and became just an arm put across two pillows. He was back on earth. And – he was back to his love, to the ocean locked inside his chest, hidden under his ribs. The hot beat of one big shameful feeling. So clean – and yet so shameful if it only came out…

Davy sighed and turned on his back, turning his head away.

- No… Dad… he… aamhhh…

Mike turned to Davy and looked at his face. Davy frowned, a little crease appeared between his eyebrows. What was he dreaming about? Mike listened to his breath. Davy seemed calm for a moment or two – and then suddenly fidgeted, shook his head and quietly groaned.

- Don't!... A-ah… he's… not tha-at…

Mike raised himself just a little and gently put a hand on Davy's cheek, worried. Davy gasped and jerked his head. Mike turned his face to himself and stroked his cheek softly.

- Hush…

- Da-ad… he's… no…

- Davy.

- Dad… don't… Mike! Mike!

Davy groaned and jerked his head again.

- Davy! I'm here, babe. Davy, can you hear me?

But Davy wouldn't wake up. Mike moved a little closer to him and looked at his tense body concernedly.

If he doesn't stop it, I'll do what I want to now. What do I do else, look?

Davy called again, in fear and pain:

- Mike!

And Mike moved even closer to him confidently.

He was glad his wing appeared to be just an arm. He wrapped it around the little one's hot tense body and pressed him to his chest as he'd press a child. Davy jerked his head – but Mike stopped him with his other hand put on Davy's soft cheek.

- Hu-ush… shh, babe. I'm here. Okay? I'm he-ere…

Davy sighed, as if he heard and understood Mike.

- That's good, quiet, shhh…

Mike stroked Davy's cheek with his thumb.

- Nobody will bother you as long as I'm here with you.

Davy's breath was slowly becoming even again. Mike caressed him and listened to his heartbeat. Davy sighed for the last time and put his head comfortably under Mike's chin.

- Now that's good.

He could feel Davy's nose in that little recess between his collarbones and he was afraid even to breathe, so good it was…

'That's what you've come down to, you coward living on illusions! – a scornful voice inside his head remarked. – Now you hug him – and he's absolutely unaware of what you're doing! Well, go on, let me see where it comes! I'll watch this comedy with pleasure'.

'I was just trying to calm him down, as you see I was successful!' – Mike tried to argue.

'You talk!' – the voice snorted.

'And what else was I to do?'

'Oh shut up'.

'You're out of arguments'.

'And you're a coward'.

'I love him'.

'Twice coward'.

- Shut up!

The voice didn't answer, but Mike accidentally cast a glance at the floor – and his heart skipped a beat.

The floor was covered with the wall biters.

They swarmed around the bed, all so large. Mike held Davy tighter. But the wall biters didn't approach. They didn't dare to cross some invisible border and they just bared their teeth behind it.

- Go away! What do you want here? You have nothing to do here! Get off!

They didn't move – well, what could Mike expect? They didn't come closer – and they didn't go anywhere from their places. They were staring. Maybe they were waiting for the boys to fall asleep.

- Go away!

Davy fidgeted and Mike stroked his hair quickly and quite nervously.

- Hush, it's okay.

But he had nothing else to do. He released Davy as softly as he could – and he had to free his nightgown from the little strong fists it was held in. Mike tried to make Davy's fingers release the fabric, but the little one didn't want to let him go. Mike looked at him kindly and stroked his iron fist.

- Come on, sunny. Let me. M?

He lied back down next to the little one and took Davy's fists in his hands – he could almost completely cover them with his fingers.

- Listen, sunny. Let me go. Please. I'll be back in a moment. M? Please…

He pressed the two little hard fists to his chest.

- Please. I'll go nowhere as I can't – and even if I could, I wouldn't. I'm yours, baby.

And, not knowing what to do, Mike closed his eyes and kissed Davy's hands.

Clanking and stomping surrounded him, deafened him and he didn't dare to move, eyes shut, one thought – not even a thought, a prayer – in his head: 'Please, don't touch him… kill me, but don't touch him…'

And suddenly everything was over. Mike opened his eyes slowly and looked around, pressing Davy close just in case. Nobody was in the room except for them two.

Davy wouldn't let Mike be in shock for too long. He sighed and turned over – and for a moment Mike doubted it wasn't a dream. But whether it was or not, he could still feel Davy. That was not a gift. That was something Mike stole. But he didn't really care because it was only for good.

'You did everything right!' – the heart whispered. The brain was silent.

Mike looked at Davy and moved a little closer to him. He was hesitating, but the temptation was great. He moved so close to Davy he nearly touched him – but yet nearly and not completely. Davy was breathing evenly. Mike put a hand on his shoulder, leaned his head a little towards it and breathed Davy.

Davy's scent was like nothing else.

Barely understanding what he was doing, Mike moved the fabric of the short sleeve a little up Davy's arm.

The silhouette of the shoulder he knew was golden.

Mike closed his eyes and kissed that shoulder with all the tenderness he had. A few seconds of that feeling on his lips – they were endless and they were way too short. Mike leaned away just a bit – and whispered:

- It's a vow, my little one. I'm yours.

And he turned away from Davy and covered himself with a blanket up to his chin.

I'm yours. And nobody will take me from you.