Malum goes Places (Boyxboy)

Malum's talking tuxs

"Is it illegal to steal kisses?" I asked Michael while layed out on his bed.

"I don't know, you tell me." Michael says, sitting next to my sprawled out body.

Michael leans down, placing his lips on mine for a quick minute.

"You taste illegal." I observe against Michael's lips.

"I get that a lot."

I glare, slapping my hand against his chest, pushing him away.

"I'm just kidding babe,"

"I know." I say, nonchalantly.

"And how would you know that?"

"Because I'm the only one who wants you."

"Are you calling me ugly?"

"If I was calling you ugly then that'd mean I was calling my choice in men ugly."

"And were you?"

"Evan Peters is pretty hot."

Michael sticks out his bottom lip and I take it between my teeth.

"Sexual," he comments.

"Evan's pretty sexual."

"Calum!" Michael whines in jealously.

I hush Michael with a kiss and a jolly rancher from the depths of my pocket.

We somehow bring up the dance that's like three days away and I start to panic because three days away. What the fuck am I going to wear!?

Michael opts for the og black tux and white suit shirt.

I suggest the red shirt to go with his hair. Then suggest for a green to go with his eyes.

Michael commented in looking like a Christmas tree with those colors but he liked the red and I liked the red so we decided we'd both wear red.

"That was easier than picking out clothes for a sleepover." Michael says.

"Yeah, now we just gotta but it." I remind him.

"I'm going tomorrow."

"Ok, same."

Silence developed us as Michael layed in my arms. I close my eyes, feeling the least bit sleepy.

"Hey Michael," I whisper.

"Hm?"

"Do you love me?"

"I'm getting there."

"Same."

I was surprised as to why I wanted to ask Michael such a question.

Of course he doesn't love me. Well, not yet anyways. This was only the beginning of our relationship.

"But I like you a lot," He kisses me on the cheek. "And it kind of feels like love." Michael adds.

"Maybe it's an illusion." I say, fighting off the overwhelming feeling trying to take over. Love with Michael was something that I wanted to be rare. Like only Michael's boy got to feel his casting of serenity and carefulness to one's heart.

"Not you with Calum," Michael closed his eyes, resting his head against the pillows. "There's no illusion when I'm with you."

And maybe Michael didn't need to know it yet, but the feeling that radiates off of me in the presence of him feels like something more than love.

A word nonexistence to the world.

Like a rare flower with a name you can't pronounce.

Kind of like Michael.

Of course you can pronounce Michael, but you can't pronounce his eyes and that smile of his and those lips that do more justice than served and his being as whole because he's indescribable.

He's Michael.

My Michael.

And he's so God damn beautiful.