Feather

Seventeen

"Fuck, I've missed you so much," Peyton breathed out as Michael pressed kisses to her neck, "I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks."

"I know, baby, I know," he pecked her lips repeatedly as he mumbled into her mouth, "next time you go away for a weekend business trip, I'm going with you." He said, holding her closely.

Peyton had left her job recently, since everything with the charity was moving rather quickly, so Ashton had taken her on full time, meaning she and Michael didn't get to see each other as often as they used to before.

"You'll be the first thing in my suitcase." Peyton giggled as she kissed him deeply, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Suddenly, there was a cough, "guys, we're still at the airport, yeah?" Ashton whispered at them.

"Sorry." They both apologised whilst reluctantly pulling away from each other.

The drive home was slightly awkward, to say the least. Michael and Peyton tried to make small talk with Ashton but he saw how tense they were, and how they tried to not touch each other. He was actually a little amused by it, the way they would fidget, and not look at each other. He chuckled to himself as he looked out of the window.

Once they got to Michael and Peyton's, the pair could hardly contain themselves. They said goodbye to Ashton, Peyton giving him a hug as Michael grabbed her bag, then walked calmly towards the door until Ashton's car drove away, and then they ran. Michael barely had time to drop the bag as she pushed him inside, kicking the door closed with her foot, and kissing him passionately.

She pushed off his denim jacket, never letting her lips lose contact with his, and moving to undo his jeans, knowing that if she were to take off his tshirt, she'd have to move away from him, and she didn't want to, not yet. Michael kicked off his shoes, pushing his jeans down, and stepping out of them. He pulled on the waistband of her leggings as she toed off her vans. He tugged the material off her legs, and grabbed her by the back of the thighs, picking her up with Peyton quickly wrapping her legs around him.

Michael walked to the bedroom carefully, their lips pressed together, and lowered her onto the bed, having to lay on top of her because Peyton had put her arms around his neck, and wouldn't let him go. She kissed him deeply, her left hand coming up to the back of his head, her fingers massaging his scalp. Their tongues gliding over each other's as they both began to relax against one another.

Their urgency changed, it became less about lust, and more about passion. Michael's body moulded with hers, her right leg wrapped around his left as they almost became one. They kissed lazily, his right arm under her neck, keeping her close, her right arm across his back as she reached under his tshirt, grabbing at his flesh. Michael's free hand rested on her bum, as they both sighed in contentment, their eyes closed as they let themselves get lost in the moment.

Before they even realised it, they had been kissing for almost half an hour, their lips numb and barely moving. Peyton never wanted it to stop. Michael had slowly worked his hand from her bum to under her shirt, now it was resting just under her breast, and he wanted to feel more, he needed to feel it. Her skin was so warm, and it made him hot all over, so he grabbed the hem of her shirt, trying to pull it off but Peyton quickly held his wrist, "no." She said against his lips, never stopping the kiss.

"Baby, just let me take it off," he tried to move away, she pulled him closer, kissing harder, "Peyton, baby?" His words mumbled from being pressed so harshly to her mouth.

"Don't want to stop," she ran her tongue along the inside of his top lip, "I just want this." She breathed, her arms coming back around his neck.

"Peyt.."

"No talking," she cut him off quickly, "just kiss."

"No," Michael said through gritted teeth, using all his will power to grab her wrists, pinning them by her head, and pulling away from her, "baby, what's wrong?" His face showing concern when looking down at her, and seeing the tears in her eyes. Peyton shook her head, facing away from him, "Peyton, please talk to me."

"I don't want to." She said quietly.

"Why not?" He asked.

"Because I don't want to say something stupid that I might regret." Peyton whispered, it was so quiet that Michael had to lean closer just to hear.

He let go of her wrists, sitting back on the bed, he was so confused. What could be so terrible that she wanted so badly to stop them from talking to each other? So he asked her. All she did was turn away from him, making him frown. Was it because she'd been away? It was only four days. Nothing that awful could have happened in such a short time, could it? "Peyton, did something happen... while you were gone?" His voice was tight in his throat.

"No, it's... no."

Michael nodded slowly, even though she couldn't see him, and got up, going to his chest of drawers, pulling out a box before sitting back down, "here, I got you something." He said sadly, placing the item next to her.

"What?" She said surprised, sitting up slowly, and picking up the box, "why?"

"Just open it... please."

She opened it, revealing a silver bangle with a feather design that curved around the wrist, "Michael, it's beautiful," she smiled nervously, looking at him, "I didn't get you anything." She frowned.

"You're still here, right?" He shrugged with a smile.

She nodded, looking back down at the gift, "a feather." She laughed lightly.

"Yeah. I thought it'd be cool, you know since..." he pointed up at the feather in his hair.

Peyton put on the bangle, and bit her lip, "if I tell you something, do you promise to not laugh, or be freaked out?"

"Is this what you didn't want to say before?" She nodded, "then I promise."

Then she took a deep breath, "Michael... I love you. I have done for a while, I just didn't know how to say it, and I wanted to so badly. I knew when I saw you today that it'd only be a matter of time until I couldn't not say it, and then we got home, and were kissing, and I loved it so much, I knew if you pulled away it would just come flying out, but I am, Michael, I'm so fucking in love with you, and honestly I'm freaking out a little now because you're just sitting there, not saying anything... Shit, Michael, would you just fucking say something?"

Michael smiled widely, grabbing her hand, pulling her to him, and kissing her before asking, "what does that tell you?"

"Apart from the fact that you're a really good kisser, not much." She smirked, biting her lip.

"I love you," Michael told her, "I love you, Peyton. A lot."

Peyton wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheek as she held him. "Oh, thank you for the present by the way." She smiled, waving her wrist.

"It's nothing," he pecked her lips quickly, "happy valentines, baby."

"Happy valentines, Michael."