pairing: michael gray x male!reader
requested: yeah! by @berserkvonklaus2211
"Hello :) do ya mind if i ask a req with Michael or John (angsty or fluffy up to ye) But i am a boy so could you make a male! reader one (i cannot find any male! reader fic :( really sad) I hope you a wonderful day and wish you luck, plus i'm really love your blog and fics :) "
a/n: I would love to write more male!readers so please, if any boys out there have any requests, let me know and I'll be happy happy to write them! thanks for being so sweet in your request! hope everyone is having a good morning! - solis
warnings: mentions of homophobia, but not much, and blood, violence and swearing, in typical peaky fashion
suffocating, the air of tension that filled the car was hard to inhale, thick and dense on the tongue, like bitter honey clogging up your throat. the pathering of the rain on the window was the calm backdrop to the colossal argument you and michael were currently having.
like a child, michael had gotten too cocky and nearly ruined a deal with a neighbouring gang, and considering the shelby hold on Birmingham appeared to be loosening, it was safe to say you were fucking angry.
arrogant and self-centred, michael was usually the kind of guy you would steer clear of, but sometimes, in moments between the two of you, he showed you a side you weren't sure anyone else had seen. like all the times you would come home drunk and fall asleep on the sofa and you would wake up, a blanket covering you and a hot tea nearby. or the times when you would get injured and he would patch you up, even (unknown to you) asking his mother to teach him how to.
sweet, harmless and inviting, this side of him was almost childlike with innocence and the inability to treat someone badly if he tried.
but right now, that side was far far gone.
michael sat across from you in the backseat of the car, clenching his jaw muscles, glaring at you when he thought you weren't looking, and worst of all, looking annoyingly attractive while doing so.
thomas sat in the front of the car, and had johnny dogs in the seat next to him, but your complete anger with michael completely drowned out every single thing other than him in the vicinity. the silence in the car was so overbearing, and nobody was doing anything to change that: thomas knew the both of you were in a foul mood, and had gotten used to your constant fights, and johnny just seemed out of place, as if he didn't quite know what to do.
finally, when you arrived, and thomas pulled up outside your house, you all but jumped out, slowed only by tiredness and stiffness from the journey pulling at your movements.
as soon as you were in the house, instead of shouting, the silence commenced. this wasn't rare: you and michael bickered a lot, but most of the big arguments you had resulted in the silent treatment, a game michael appeared to have a lot of experience in, given how good he was at keeping it up.
after preparing yourself for bed and washing, you made your way down the hallway and saw michael lighting up another cigarette with his back turned to you, and a glass of whiskey in his hand. you wanted to say something, but when he heard you moving about, he immediately sighed and moved away, pushing past you to go to his bedroom.
this was going to be a long fight.
exactly nine days later, you found yourself slightly intoxicated, struggling to open the door, and truth be told, the blood pouring into your eye, from the cut above your eyebrow wasn't really helping. you were kind of wishing you had taken up john's offer of him walking you home and helping you out, but no, you had been too stubborn and now you couldn't even open the fucking door.
holding a ripped piece of your shirt on the wound, hoping to stem the blood flow, you pounded on the door, realising you weren't going to be able to open it anytime soon.
"what the fuck do you want?" michael knew it was you before he even opened the door, but to your surprise, he actually opened it, his expressionless face quickly changing when he saw the state you were in.
almost protectively, you saw him change from the cold distant man he had been all week, to the sweet, caring boy you loved to be with.
"fuck me, what happened, you idiot?" he queried, his instincts kicking in, as he hauled your weight onto his shoulders and carried you to the kitchen. there, he sat you down, and prepared the medical kit you kept for emergencies. he held your face in between his hands and checked for the worse of your injuries, his face incredibly close to yours. strangely, it was as if his touch had physically winded you and it was only when he turned his back to get you a glass of water that you found your words again.
"fight. down at the garrison," you managed in between hisses of pain - the alcohol was beginning to wear off, and honestly, though it was embarrassing to admit, the man you fought had definitely won. michael could see the effect the pain was having, and something in him lurched at the sight of you in pain. seeing you so distressed made him feel almost like he was the one that just got beaten up.
"calm down, y/n, I'll stitch you up, then you can get some rest and sleep it off. you've had worse, don't worry," he reassured, reaching for your hand and rubbing it gently with his thumb. again, that feeling of breathlessness overcame your body and you almost shutdown at the affection he was showing you.
inbetween patching you up and checking on your state, he would give you smiles, real smiles, that showed care and genuine worry for you, smiles that made you fall for him just a little bit more.
see, you wouldn't tell michael, ever, but you admired him more than you'd like to admit, and fights like these (big fights that actually meant something, rather than the small bickering you usually kept up daily) reminded you how much of your being felt dedicated to loving him. michael was close to being perfect, and you had spent a good amount of time to learning the way his facial structure looked in the morning, and how the constellations of his faint freckles slowly got darker as summer progressed.
confiding in you, he admitted all the small things, like the collection of movie tickets he had in his top drawer beside his bed, and the way he always longed to go back to his home town with you and show you the sunset.
the formulation of all these things, and more, of course, had led to a crush of sorts, one that made you fiercely protective of him. so when a man in the garrison began calling him slurs, suspecting he was gay, you flew into a fit of rage, challenging the man, and though the shelby brothers promised to have him dealt with, your protective nature took a hold of you, and outside the pub, you took matter into your own hands.
of course, you didn't want to tell michael any of this, so when he questioned your motives, you were stuck, but you decided to tell the truth in a more roundabout way.
"I was protecting your honour." you muttered, still feeling woozy from the pain.
michael really was asking all the questions you didn't want to answer, and to this, you sighed audibly, but michael wasn't finished.
"okay, don't tell me, but please, don't hurt yourself for me. next time just ignore them. I don't mind someone insulting me, as long as you're safe. you're all that matters to me."
you were speechless, and the atmosphere in the kitchen suddenly changed. you became hyperaware of the hand michael had on your thigh, steadying himself as he finished attending to your wounds. like before the air in the room thickened, but this time, you weren't upset by it, and it had a feeling of anticipation that surrounded it like a shadow.
"since when did you care about me? I thought you hated me." you tried to joke, trying to push off the sudden tension, but michael wasn't having it.
"since forever you idiot," he smiled, dropping the rag he was holding, and gently moving a strand of hair off your face.
frozen, you felt so nervous as he leant in and pulled you into a soft kiss, unlike anything you had had before.
men before michael had been immature or too mature, drunken and careless, looking for fun for the night, but michael was so careful, watching your wounds and taking his time, savouring the moment.
"I can deal with the silence if we're doing that instead of ignoring each other," you chuckled when he pulled away, laughing at the way he just ignored your joke, only replying when you tried to make a face at him.
"I take it back you knob, I'll get with Isaiah instead."
you made grabby hands, and pulled him in closer, ignoring the pain searing through your ribs, as you sat on his lap in the chair, oh so close to his lips again.
"no fucking way, come here," you swore, kissing him again, kissing him like it was the first and last time, kissing him like you'd never felt something so good. because you hadn't.
