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Bowling Aftermath

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Posted to the RoswellSlash mailing list February 5, 2002

Author: Nehal
Email: azul_crysale@hotmail.com
Distribution: Kingdom Of Tula and RoswellSlash ONLY.
Summary: Violent thoughts, break ups with underlying sexual tension giving fuel to it all. It burns baby, but Michael can't feel it. Just another piece 'o' crap from moi, the weirdo.



        "Its my game. I make the rules!"

        Michael glared at him. "Got it?!"

        Kyle gulped, and looked towards the open window.

        Michael rolled his eyes before pulling the sleeves of his sweatshirt to his elbows. Bowling with Kyle sucked. Maria was way better- at least she didn't whine or run from the window screaming when she lost. But Maria was gone, and since Max and Liz were a big no- no, Kyle, would have to do. Michael sighed, sometimes life really sucked.

        "What is it, you chickened out?"

        Michael let himself smirk, but it didn't reach his eyes. They remained an icy determined brown.

        "Yeah right-"

        Kyle scoffed but it wasn't convincing, and his usually clear blue eyes flickered slightly with fear. Michael wondered why he was scared and the possibilities, or at least one of them, simultaneously angered and hurt him. With an annoyed sigh, Michael pushed the short human onto the couch and let his hands linger against the smooth skin of his shoulders.

        "You know Max told me a secret about Tess-" Kyle's eyes suddenly darkened and he tried to stand but Michael held him firmly to the dirty couch. "She likes it up the ass!" With a smirk, Michael let Kyle go, and within moments he felt a hard fist bury itself into his eye. He staggered back and then felt another one connect his shoulder. And another one- the punches kept coming until he found himself against the stinking brown carpet of his apartment, wondering they didn't hurt anymore. Maybe it was because Maria left, she was the only one who could ever make him feel-

        "You're a fucking-" Kyle hovered over him, jean clad legs astride Michael's chest, sea blue eyes glinting just this side of madness, and his hand was still clenched into a powerful fist but he didn't hit him. He simply stared, and Michael sighed. "Freak"

        Freak. The word hurt, but only faintly-it was enough, and Michael instinctively hooked his fingers into the belt loops of Kyle's jeans and sat up. Immediately their lips met in a cold, hard, bruising kiss that felt like fire inside Michael's chest and he smiled.

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