Humans Alone (G/T)

Chapter Twenty-One

It had been several hours since Michael had fallen asleep. It was midday now, Heath and Lester both sleeping soundly in the small cabin Lester built with his own two hands.

Heath was still next to his human companion, his arms wrapped tenderly but securely around his back. While he was still sleeping, his subconscious was paying full attention in case he needed to wake up and somehow take care of him.

Michael wasn't sure what he was expecting when he woke up, but it certainly wasn't being tucked firmly against the chest of the Masonin that's been taking care of him for the past few days. He could feel his face burning from embarrassment now. He wanted to move away. However, the more he thought about it he wondered if he actually did. 

Slowly turning his head he cringed in pain and struggled to look at the Masonin's face. The more he laid there in Heath's arm, the less he wanted to move away from the large being. Michael was comfortable. He enjoyed the warmth he produced, the safety laying in his arms provided. 

Michael was hesitant but he took a chance and rested his head back against Heath's chest. He could hear his loud heartbeat. The familiar pine scent was gone, replaced with the irony scent of blood. God, they both needed some form of a shower. And warm water would feel great on his new bruises. 

One of the arms around him shifted. One of Heath's large hands lifted up and was placed gently around the back of Michael's head. The fingers gently stroked his hair. "I hope you slept well." Heath's deep voice murmured groggily, vibrating the chest Michael's head was against. 

The only slightly younger man's face flushed again. "I-I slept just fine," Michael answered softly, coughing lightly when he spoke. He's lucky there isn't any internal bleeding or anything worse than a broken rib or two after that beating. He was just glad Donnie was gone. He was glad they can just make the trip to the High Council with a member as their guide.

Heath caught how considerably red Michael's face turned when he started messing with his hair. And when he didn't pull away from his arms, he left them around the smaller male. However, his brain was working overtime. 

He knows he cares about him, that much he can admit. And on his home planet, there were relationships between the same gender of Masonin's. It was just more uncommon than Earth's. Though, it wasn't shunned by some people as much as it was here. Heath couldn't understand it. His own race felt if you love someone, it shouldn't matter their gender.

But this? This was different than just caring about the human. Donnie, he simply cared about. This was new to him. Probably stronger than anything he's felt before. Was it possible to love someone you only just met? Again, however, what they've been through together isn't like they just waved to each other on the street. 

He's caught him falling from a tree, saved Michael from wolves, kept him safe from gunshots and plenty more. Michael's saved his life from one of those shotgun rounds. 

He'd need more time to think. He'd need more time to run things through his head. If he can simply wait a little longer, perhaps he could admit he cares more for the human than just their friendship. 

Unnecessarily clearing his throat, Heath pushed himself into a sitting position and released Michael from his arms. "I'll see where that Lester character is, then I'll do what I can about breakfast. 

Michael cringed as the warmth around him disappeared. He wanted to insist he wanted Heath to stay but wasn't sure how the Masonin would react. He liked him laying there. It helped make him forget about the pain. But instead, he silently nodded his head, meeting the green eyes with cat-like pupils that watched him in return. 

Not wanting Heath to go just yet, he tried to think quickly about how he could get him to sit back down. He decided to say the first thing to popped into his head. "H-How did you meet Donnie?"

Heath's large form visibly tensed, his jaw clenching. His eyes averted from Michael, his head tilted down. It was like ripping a scab from a fresh wound. A very fresh wound. "Michael, I-"

"Sorry, I-I shouldn't have asked." Michael now turned his own head to look away from Heath, curling into himself despite how it made every fiber in his being ache. He didn't want to upset him. In truth, he was still a little frightened of the man. Not only that, but it pulled his own thoughts to his daughter. What he'd give to hold her again didn't even amount to every cent in this world.

With a soft sigh, Heath reached one hand out toward Michael but soon retracted it. He bit down hard on the inside of his mouth before speaking. "Don't apologise. It's fine." 

Carefully, the Masonin sat back down near Michael and rested his large hand near him. "I'll tell you what. If you tell me about your daughter, I'll tell you how I met my son."

Michael lifted his head despite the pain in his neck, again meeting Heath's eyes. A small smile cracked on his busted lips. "Sounds like a d-deal." He spoke quietly, trying to force himself into a sitting position but Heath's hands stopped him. One rested on his chest, the other on his shoulders and were gently pinning him. 

"Don't get up. Just talk." Heath offered him a soft smile, glad to see the smile on Michael's own lips. It was a sign that he wasn't entirely depressed and scared. It showed that Heath was being a fairly decent friend. 

Even with Donnie's betrayal, Heath was glad he at least still had him.