Michael Clifford Shorts

BGM - (another) Gang AU

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUKE-ASS

I knooooow I already did one and I just updated this book last time but it was behind idk the other books all have more parts so here I AM

I didn't really make it to tie into the other one but I suppose now that it's sort of a prequel

MICHAEL:
There were some things Michael never told you. Mainly, where all of his scars came from. They littered his skin, a sharp contrast to the inky swirls of his tattoos. In some places, the scars cut jagged pale lines right through the designs. He refused to have them tattooed over, always insisting they were a reminder of what he'd done. You didn't know if he felt pride or guilt, and he didn't share.

More often than not, when he came home he was already stitched up, his wounds cleaned and dressed without you ever having any idea of what happened besides the rips and tears in his clothes.

But occasionally, Michael would stride through the door with blood still dripping out of an open would, and you'd take care of him. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. If he walked inside your house bleeding, you were going to fix it. And usually, it was these times that you really learned about your mysterious boyfriend's illegal past.

Usually his stories included booze and weapons. Never a good combination.

You were already in the front hall, on your way up the grand staircase to take a nap when the front door flew open. Your gaze immediately flickered to the doorway. Backlit by the sun, you only really saw the outline of the man until he stepped inside. It was then you saw the long cut vertically down the meat of Michael's right bicep, and another long but shallow cut slashing over his right shoulder blade and down his back. Another scar to make a weird line in Michael's tats.

"Baby! What happened?" You sighed and rushed over to fuss over him. Michael didn't much like being babied, but he was bleeding everywhere and you couldn't leave him like that.

"I got into an argument," his expression remained stony, but he allowed you to pull him down the hallway to the bathroom.

"With who?" You had him sit on the edge of the tub as you began to rifle through the medicine cabinet.

He was silent for a beat and you were wondering if he was going to answer at all when he did, "ammunitions dealer. Guy named square-face and let me tell you, it fits him."

You smiled, partially out of amusement but also because he was actually telling you about his day.

"Shirt off," you held a warm, damp washcloth, ready to wipe away the blood.

"Yes ma'am," he grinned and used his good arm to pull his shirt over his head and off.

You snorted and stood behind him. Michael didn't make any noise, but did tense up when you pressed the washcloth against his skin. You tried to be gentle as you carefully cleaned the blood away, revealing the black heart tattoo underneath that he had gotten for your one-year anniversary.

"What did he cut you with?" You continued, trying to find out more and distract Michael all in one.

"A big-ass knife. Must've kept it in his desk just in case," he sounded rather impressed with the dealer, which was probably good for the weapons guy as Michael being impressed increased his chances of living.

"Hmmmmmm, what'd you do to him?" You asked as you moved from his back, satisfied now that you could see the cut better. It was clear he had gotten it a few hours ago as it was no longer bleeding, and it probably needed stitches but you doubted he would get any.

"Oh baby," he chuckled darkly, "people who come after me with knives leave the room in a bag." You internally sighed at the fact he all but admitted to you he just murdered someone, but you knew that his hands weren't clean and you'd just write this one off as self-defense.

You must have pressed a little too hard as he hissed a little and flinched. You mumbled a sorry and drew back. Backing up, you rinsed the washcloth out in the sink, and you were about to grab the disinfectant until Michael noticed.

In the blink of an eye he was up, and his warm hands settled on your hips, pulling you away from the medicine cabinet toward him.

"Michael!" You scolded, grabbing the edge of the counter to try and keep yourself from getting pulled back completely into him, "I need to disinfect it so you don't get an infection. Especially since I know you won't get any stitches!"

He didn't let up though, only gave you one swift tug that loosened your grip and sent you flying back into his chest. He grinned down at you before lifting the back of your legs up and holding you bridal style. "Sorry babygirl but that shit stings, and I think I've been through enough today."

"For someone who got their arm sliced open you have a remarkably low pain tolerance," you griped as he carried you out of the bathroom and toward your shared bedroom.

Michael laughed loudly and shook his head, "I was running on adrenaline then, barely felt it."

"'Barely felt it' my ass."

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HA! 9 MINUTES B4 LUKE'S BIRTHDAY ENDS GUYS I MADE IT 😉