They got out of the shower and, after Michael bandaged Micky up, went into the bedroom. Michael started to put a pair of underwear and pants on while Micky laid down in the bed, pulling the sheets over his naked body.

"Aren't ya gonna get dressed?"

Micky mumbled something incoherent. Michael sat down on the edge of the bed and gazed down at him.

"May I kiss you?" he whispered.

Micky locked eyes with him and Michael leaned forward, pressing their lips together. When twisting his body down became uncomfortable, he stretched out on top of the sheets. Micky closed his eyes and tangled his fingers in Michael's dark, still-damp hair.

Micky heard the rustling of sheets a moment later and when he opened his eyes, he realized Michael had joined him in bed. His heart beat heavily in his chest when Michael finally broke the kiss.

"Don't stop..." Micky leaned up to kiss him again and Michael obliged. Micky's eyes fluttered shut once more.

He was lost in Michael's warm, loving kisses and, for the first time in a long time, he felt loved. He felt clean. He felt—

Micky gasped and his eyes flew open when he felt the hand on his cock. He cried out and jerked away from the touch.

Michael was startled. "Micky?!" His hand travelled up to Micky's face.

"Don't touch me!" Micky screamed. He screamed again and again, wondering if the whole world could hear him. He couldn't stop.

A lump formed in Michael's throat. "Mick, I'm sorry, I-I wasn't thinkin', I—"

Micky's entire body was shaking as he rolled out of bed. He jerked open the first drawer he saw and pulled out boxers and a t-shirt, putting the material on as quickly as he could. Hot, hot tears rolled down his face.

"Oh, Mick—"

Michael sounded like he was a million miles away. Wiping away the tears on his face, Micky opened the bedroom door and fled the room.