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Title: Pictures Of My Lover's Chest
Author: Aurelia
Warnings: Slash (m/m), dark themes, profanity. Rated PG-13.
Notes: My story. Don't steal. Ask before posting anywhere. I'll say yes.
Credits: Title from "Ask For Answers" by Placebo.

Date Began: ??
Date Ended: incomplete

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Darkness had settled in little over an hour ago on the cold October night. A lamp glowed brightly next to Michael as he lay on his bed, fingers turning to the next page of his book. Downstairs, he heard the doorbell ring, but ignored it, figuring that it was one of his father's friends. As his eyes flew over the words, he heard feet pounding up the stairs, and then his door burst open. Before he had a chance to look up, a body launched itself into his arms, sobs wracking the lean form. Michael quickly put his book aside to hold the shaking person to his chest.

"Shh...shh, Wes," he whispered, gently running his fingers through raven locks. "I'm here, baby. You're okay. Shh, it's all right." He shifted his position to a slightly more comfortable one, sitting up against the headboard and pulling his pale-skinned friend up with him.

The boy whimpered, burying his face in Michael's neck and continuing to bawl. Michael rocked him back and forth, resting his chin on Wesley's head. After a few minutes, he could heard the sobs begin to ebb, and soon the room was silent. Michael could still feel tears dampening his shirt, though, and continued to glide his hands up and down Wesley's back in comfort.

Suddenly there were footstps in the hallway. Had Wesley been crying when his parents let him inside? His suspicion was confirmed when his mother appeared in the doorway, a concerned expression on her face. He could see the flicker of wonder in her eyes at their position, but he only held the boy more protectively, uncaring as to whether or not it was deemed proper. Let her know. It didn't matter; Wesley needed him. He tore his gaze away from his mother, focusing his attention on his best friend.

"Cold?" Michael asked, for Wesley was now shivering. He could hear his mother's footsteps fading down the hallway as the dark-haired boy gave a small sound of confirmation. As Michael gently pushed him away to get the blanket, his eyes roamed over Wesley's form, taking in the pale cheeks streaked with running mascara and eyeliner, the dyed black hair with dark blue highlights, and finally the leather jacket, zipped only half way up. As Michael looked closer, he realized Wesley wore no shirt under the black jacket. No wonder he was cold; the leather had to be freezing him after being outside. He grasped the zipper and pulled down on it. Wesley whimpered in protest as his coat was taken from him, and a moment later, Michael knew why.

"Oh gods, Wes," he murmured, forcing himself not to cry. Bruises marred Wesley's pale skin, and fresh cuts were scattered all over his chest and back. Blood was flowing freely from most of them, especially a gash on his shoulder. He could feel his eyes filling with tears, and before Wesley could see them, he pulled him close, ignoring the crimson stains forming on his own shirt. He pressed a kiss to Wesley's bare shoulder, carefully running his tongue over the wound, clearing the blood away. Wesley moaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure, breathing heavily into Michael's neck.

"Can I stay here tonight?" Wesley asked quietly at last, and Michael laughed shakily.

"Yeah," he answered, placing a kiss on his lover's forehead. "Stay as long as you want, baby..."

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Sunlight spilled across the dark bedsheets, bathing Wesley's skin in gold. Michael's eyes traveled over the boy's body, his gaze loving, doting. His Wes deserved so much more than what he had. He'd been abused by so many hands, hurt in ways he never should have been.

And each time he had turned to Michael. His childhood companion, his closest confidant. As now, he had always run to Michael in the middle of the night, hiding from his inebriated father. He had fallen into his friend's embrace when each boyfriend hit him. Wesley was so pretty a thing. Why did he inflame such a desire to hurt?

"Trying to be ruthless in the face of beauty," Michael muttered bitterly, the Placebo line running through his head. All of those boyfriends, all of that pain...and now he was with Michael. And Michael would never lay an unkind hand on him.

The blond let his palm gently cup his lover's cheek, watching Wesley's eyes flutter open. They squinted in the bright light, and then his lips formed a content smile as he looked over at Michael.

"Morning, beautiful," Michael murmured, hand falling only to grasp his partner's. He ran his thumb across the backs of Wesley's silky fingers and the dark haired boy sighed.

"Morning," he breathed, scooting his body towards Michael's and snuggling up against his chest. He nuzzled Michael's neck and wrapped an arm around his boyfriends waist. "Love you."

"Yeah, love you, too," Michael said, and buried his face in Wesley's hair. "Mmm...you smell nice."

"You feel nice," Wesley replied, pressing himself closer and running his hand along Michael's spine.

"And you look cute in my clothes," Michael said playfully, and Wesley giggled, his lips finding the other boy's. When they parted, Michael kissed a path down Wesley's neck, letting his teeth graze the flesh and causing Wesley to whimper. Michael smiled against the pale skin he was teasing and continued his quest to Wesley's eart, nipping the lobe and then chuckling softly as Wesley squirmed.

"What do you want to do today?" Michael asked, listening quietly to his lover's shallow breathing.

"I can think of a few things," answered Wesley, fingers finding the hem of Michael's shirt. Michael laughed and pushed the boy's hands away.

"Not now, love," he said. "This is neither the time nor the place." Wesley growled, leaning forward to capture Michael's lips possessively.

"This is a bed...and now is always the time," he managed in between deep kisses. Michael pushed him away again coyly, but pressed against the wrong place, causing Wesley to wince and clutch his shoulder. The hurt boy sat up, pain in his features as he looked away.

"Wes, baby, I'm sorry," Michael apologized, good humor having vanished. "Hon, let me see..." He sat up and Wesley hesitatingly offered him his arm. Michael ran his hands up and down its length and then lowered his head, lips brushing ever-so-slightly against Wesley's wounded shoulder. Wesley grinned suddenly, a devious look playing about his face.

"Hurts here more," he said, pointing to his lips. Michael smiled and complied. They fell back on the bed, a tangle of frenzied touches and feverish kisses.

"Make love to me," Wesley whispered, his hands clutching Michaels' shoulders while his lips traveled across the nape of his neck. Michael tried to pull away, but Wesley was relentless.

"My parents are home," Michael said apologetically, evading the boy's ministrations. "Wes, no."

Wesley stopped and sighed, collapsing on top of Michael and grimacing as his bruised chest made contact. Michael leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling, anticipating an angry response.

"They already know we sleep in the same bed," Wesley said quietly. "They should've figured out by now that we're fucking."

"Fucking?" asked Michael, cool incredulity in his voice. "If all we're doing is fucking, then why don't I come over to your house in the middle of the night. We'll see if your father appreciates the screams, let alone the mere idea." He felt Wesley's body go rigid and instantly regretted the words. The dark haired boy struggled to stand, tearing himself from the rumpled sheets.

"Wes, I'm sorry. That was cruel of me," Michael said. "Please come back." Wesley shook his head, shrugging on his leather jacket. He made his way to the door, and Michael called after him. "Where are you going?"

"Dave's," Wesley spat out, and then left without a glance back.

Michael cursed under his breath, wondering how Wesley could be so foolish as well as contemplating whether or not he should chase after the boy. But his parents were home, and he couldn't risk making a scene. He had to draw the line somewhere, and while he might be willing to hold Wesley in front of his parents, there was no way he could run downstairs shouting, "Wes, I'm sorry! I love you! Come back!"

He would be back anyway. There would be more bruises, more emotional scars, but he would be back. And Michael, as always, would hold him.

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The sun was setting as Wesley walked numbly away from the Linden residence. Mrs. Linden had told him Michael was not at home. Where was he to go now? He couldn't go to his own house, he just couldn't.

God, where was Michael? All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around his boyfriend and apologize. He had plenty to apologize for. Why had he gone back to Dave? Flaunting his infidelity in Michael's face was the lowest thing he could have done, not to mention the most painful.

Wesley raised a hand to his swollen cheek, closing his eyes against the wind and his tears. How pathetic he was, a sucker for abuse. Pain bordered on pleasure and more often than not he couldn't distinguish the two.

Why was he so unfaithful to the only person who loved him without hitting him?

Aimlessly, he walked down the road. He debated upon whether or not to call around for Michael, see if anyone knew where he was. Or perhaps he should wait, and do something romantic to apologize. He decided upon the latter choice just as he was walking past the park. Though it was getting darker as the minutes passed, Wesley could make out a figure sitting on the swing set. He glanced across the parking lot, and sure enough, there was Michael's car.

Taking a deep breath, Wesley walked towards the playground. He could see Michael's eyes follow him, but the boy did not move. Soon Wesley's shoes were sinking into sand and he took a seat on the swing next to Michael.

They sat in stoney silence, the wind chilling both of them to the bone. Michael's shoes scraped against the sand as he idly made patterns. The metal links of the swing's chains creaked solemnly while he moved slightly forwards and back.

"I'm sorry," Michael said finally, his voice cutting through the night air like a sharp knife. "What I said was unfair. I'm sorry I upset you."

"And I'm sorry I left," Wesley said quietly, his tone regretful. "I shouldn't have gone to Dave. It was stupid. It was spiteful."

"Did he hit you?" The question was asked bluntly, levelly.

Wesley hung his head for a moment, and then turned to fully face Michael. The moonlight was dim, but Wesley heard a sharp intake of breath as Michael saw the large bruise. He met the other boy's eyes with shame, saw the tears glistening there, and turned away.

Moments passed as they sat quietly, only a sniffle every now and then from Michael interrupting the silence. Wesley stared at the ground, not knowing what to say. So lost in his thoughts was he that he almost didn't notice Michael hold out his hand. He smiled softly at the gesture once seeing it, and grasped Michael's hand in his own. Warm fingers, calloused from playing guitar without a pick, massaged small circles on his palm. Wesley sighed at the familiar feel, watching Michael with searching eyes.

"I love you, you know," he said at last, and Michael smiled faintly.

"Yes, I do know," he said, rising to his feet and pulling Wesley up with him. "And I love you, too." He broke their hand contact, taking off his coat and draping it over Wesley's shoulders. He didn't have to ask what had happened to the leather jacket. Dave had always been predictable.

"Thanks," Wesley murmured, and Michael slid his arm around the boy's waist. They walked towards Michael's silver Infiniti as the moon rose higher in the sky and the stars appeared.

"Where to?" Michael asked, opening the passenger side door to let Wesley slip in. He rounded the other side of the car and sat down on the black leather seat in front of the steering wheel. "My parents are leaving at 9:00 to go to dinner with friends, so we can have my place to ourselves if you'd like."

"When will they be back?" Wesley asked, a devilish grin playing about his face.

"3:00 A.M." A smile slowly spread across Michael's face as he realized what Wesley was thinking.

"To the video store!"

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TBC -

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