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He's gonna die, Michael thinks. David is standing with his back to Michael, sleeves rolled up, trousers as tight as always. Briefly Michael spares a thought for comfort and thinks that actually he is the winner in the costume department, even more so when they're shooting outside. Bloody cold for just some leather and a threadbare shirt. He feels sorry for David, but also extremely thankful. David is a ~sight~. When he stands like this, one hip cocked to the side, his long fingers tapping a rhythm on a slender but toned thigh while he's waiting for his turn at the lunch counter. He looks back over his shoulder, right at Michael who tries his best to not let on he's been ogling his friend for the past five minutes. Tries not to remember exactly how many times he'd watched David look back at the camera like this as Davina.
Michael indicates the empty seat next to himself and David acknowledges it with a warm smile and a thumbs up. He's definitely gonna die.
He's lost track of the conversation, again. Lost himself in thoughts of David and if this doesn't end soon - well, it's gonna end rather abruptly then, because someone is bound to notice. Don't let it be him, Michael thinks desperately, when David lays a hand on his arm concernedly and asks him if everything's alright.
'Do you think you could die of beauty?'
'Uh, what?'
David looks at him, bewildered, and apparently he's forgotten he's still touching Michael but Michael hasn't and it's all he can concentrate on and he doesn't know why he just said that but also he can't stop himself from continuing: 'Do you think you could die because you're looking at someone, or something so beautiful, so overwhelmingly perfect, your heart just breaks?'
'I- uh … are you okay, Michael?'
He's not. He's not at all, but how could he explain that to David? David who is so close, so goddamn close, and he smells good and he looks good and Michael would bet all he owns that he also tastes good and he wants he wants he wants, he needs to-
'I'm just gonna go get some fresh air. It's alright.'
Thoughts are chasing each other around in his head on his way out but they're not good thoughts, they're crazy thoughts, like what if David followed him and Michael just pushed him up against a wall? What if David wanted him to?
He's not thinking this. Very consciously, he's definitely not thinking this.
There's a rather nice spot around the corner where he sometimes goes to have lunch, when the chatter of the canteen and the being-surrounded-by-people gets too much and he just wants to be alone. He's never met anyone else there before, maybe because technically one has to climb over a small fence to find oneself in an old and unkempt garden, that Michael is pretty sure has been abandoned. A bench sits in the middle of the left side, surrounded by old fruit trees and it seems to have been sheltered by them against the elements because it is the only thing in the garden that is not broken. On the back of it, someone has carved a love heart. A+C for eternity, it says. He found it funny, when he first saw it. Now, it feels like an old piece of wood is taunting him.
He sits, so he doesn't have to see it. Instead, he now imagines it burning through his shirt into his back, like a tattoo. And maybe that's what it is. Because it doesn't feel like he's gonna get rid of this feeling soon. At least it's not M+D. That would make a great scandal.
He's aware that people are talking about him and David and Aziraphale and Crowley and how his own love for the characters and their relationship certainly fuels the talk but it's not like he could just stop. And anyway, this is the only way he will ever get to talk, think about them in this way, so he's gonna take what he can get.
'Bloody hell, Michael, what are you doing? It's freezing! And you left your jacket.'
David's wearing his thick parka, Michael's coat draped over his arm and Michael smiles up at him. He looks adorable, the way he's rubbing his hands together and lightly skipping on his feet to keep warm.
'Thank you,' he says softly and takes the coat from David, but doesn't put it on just yet. He hadn't even noticed the cold before and he's certainly not feeling cold now.
'Alright, tell me!' David demands with a sigh and flops down next to Michael. He doesn't slink down as usual, but rather turns his body half towards Michael, upright and aware, always the attentive listener.
'Tell meeeee, ' David drawls, leaning closer and staring at Michael intently. It's not easy having that focus on him, Michael finds. It's even harder listening to David's voice and that accent and not fall apart immediately
'It's nothing, ' he tries to protest, but it sounds false even to his own ears.
'I- I guess I'm … I think I'm in love. I think I'm falling in love, David.' It has been a while since he's said these words. And he didn't even mean to say them. Because now David is gonna ask-
'Alright … who's the lucky one?'
It's you, you beautiful bastard, Michael wants to shout and to grab David by the collar and kiss him and touch his face, his beautiful, perfect face. God, how often he's dreamed about letting his fingers trace those sharp cheekbones, that elegant nose, those lips, good lord, those lips.
'Come on! You can tell me. Is it someone from the show? Someone from around here?'
'Yes,' Michael says instead.
'Okay. Do I know them?'
Michael can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the question. He's also acutely aware of the way that David phrased it. Like he knows. Does he know?
'Yes,' he answers again.
'One of the actors?'
'Uh-huh.'
'At least tell me if I'm looking for a guy or a girl here?'
'How- how did you know I'm … you know?'
'Gaydar ,' David replies with a knowing smile, tapping a finger against his temples smugly. 'Fully functional even though I'm only half gay, really.'
Michael wants to kiss him. To be fair, that's not new, it's kind of the whole point of their talk, really. But in this moment, he specifically wants to kiss David for making easy a thing that has never been easy at all for Michael. He likes to joke about attraction, yes, to play around it. But there are very few people that he's outed himself to, seriously. And he very badly wants to kiss David just for casually coming out to him right now, for the level of trust that requires, that David apparently has in him.
'So? I'm guessing it's a guy, then? D'you know if he's also into men?'
'Apparently, ' Michael almost breathes and be wants to be brave, too, wants to give David a chance to agree, even if he probably wouldn't, but he doesn't get further than looking up at David and getting lost in the movement of his lips.
'D'you want me to go on guessing? Because I do have an idea, you know. I'd say, he's about your age. Maybe a bit younger.' David gives a small laugh at that and leans even further into Michael's space. 'And you said he was beautiful, right? Tell me again, what did you say?'
Michael stares at him, open-eyed, doesn't dare move a muscle. Don't blink, he thinks, and almost laughs at himself. David is so close and his voice has dropped to something like a purr.
'So beautiful your heart could break? But why would you think I'd break your heart?'
He's gonna die, Michael thinks. So he's not imagining things. David is licking his lips and. That. Tongue. Michael follows it with his eyes, his own tongue darting out involuntarily, mimicking the action.
'You really are beautiful yourself, though. You do know that, right?' A mere whisper is all it takes for Michael to fall and David catches him. David catches the whimper that escapes Michael's mouth with his own, reaches around Michael, holds his face in both hands and - oh - how has Michael dreamed of this. He leans in, lets go, David's lips pressing against his, hard.
'So beautiful, ' he says against Michael's mouth. Michael realizes they're still looking at each other, their eyes wide open and this doesn't seem right, so he closes his eyes, lets David tempt him to open his mouth instead.
Everything about David's mouth is hot and Michael feels himself burning up through their kiss. He may not have noticed it before but now he shivers from the contrast of the cold wind outside and the heat of David's tongue inside of him.
When they break apart to take a breath, they're touching everywhere from their knees to their hips and their chests and their foreheads. David is softly cradling Michael's head in his hands, winding his fingers through the blond curls.
'Can we go inside now? It's really bloody cold, what the fuck Michael? Why did it have to be here?' David's laughing but he also genuinely looks cold, his nose red, his legs shivering.
'You didn't have to follow me, ' Michael jokes but it falls flat.
'Would you rather I didn't?'
'Of course not, no.'
'Come to my room with me, then? If you want?'
'I- yes, alright. Just. Not today, okay?' That was the wrong thing to say. He didn't mean it like that, not like-
'Oh. Oh, sure, yes- no, of course, I mean, I didn't mean to-'
Michael interrupts him before it can get any more embarrassing.
'David,' he says and manages to look him straight in the eyes. 'I didn't mean to say I don't want to come with you. I do. The thing is just. Let's take it slowly, okay? No need to rush anything.'
'Absolutely, yes, you're right, of course. I'm just gonna …' And David makes to stand up, a mortified expression on his face that he tries to hide by keeping busy with zipping up his parka. The skin of his hand feels icy under Michael's touch. He wraps David's hands in his own, trying to warm him up.
'Don't go,' he pleads, wondering if he sounds as desperate to David as he does to himself. 'Can we just … be like this for a bit? But in your room, you know, so you don't freeze?'
'Sure, yes, absolutely. Okay. Yes.'
David helps him back over the fence and then he just keeps holding Michael's hand as they walk the short distance to the hotel, thankfully without meeting someone. They're gonna have to figure themselves out before anyone else can know about whatever this is. But not today. Today he just wants to spend touching and kissing and holding David because now he is allowed to.
There's an awkward moment where they have to figure out where to go in David's room but then David takes their coats away, tells him to sit on the sofa and goes to the minibar for something to drink. He comes back empty-handed but with a smile so open and affectionate it takes Michael's breath away.
'Can I sit here?' David asks with a kiss, trailing one hand over Michael's thigh, the other on the sofa cushions, next to his ear. He can only nod, suppressing a shiver at David's touch, before he's suddenly got the man in his lap, David's hands on his face again and kissing him, kissing him, kissing him.
Those long fingers feel even better in his hair than he'd imagined (and he had imagined, often), the way they're tugging his curls, gently tipping his head back onto the sofa's backrest, so David is looming over him, caressing him, holding him in place with his hands on his face, and his thighs on either side of Michael's, and his tongue in his mouth. It's tender and warm and unexpectedly easy, being with him like this. Michael allows himself to gradually relax into the soft cushions, and David. They breathe each other in, gentle movement of lips and tongues and noses, soft sighs and whispered moans.
David's all hard angles and tight skin under Michael's hands, the thin long sleeve doing nothing to hide the fact that he's hardly got a gram of fat on his bones whereas Michael has gotten, well, soft. He's glad David isn't touching his body, despite longing to be touched at the same time. Not now, he tells himself. Don't let this be over already. Not now.
'I- whew, ' David exhales audibly, leaning back, brushing his thumb over Michael's cheek. 'I think I need a minute. Are you- is this alright?' Michael nods. Words won't come but instead he turns his head to press a kiss right into David's palm.
When the other man climbs off him, Michael can't not notice the reason for David needing a break. He blushes at the sight of the bulge in David's tight trousers, and the thought that he's the one responsible for it. Quickly averting his eyes, he searches his mind for something, anything to break the silence.
'This feels so surreal,' he says. Okay, maybe not the best conversation starter. He has to find something better, has to make more of an effort, has to-
'Yeah,' David quietly agrees, settling down next to him, tugging Michael's head against his shoulder, softly pressing a kiss to his hair.
'Do you know … how long I've been admiring you? I thought- ' David interrupts himself with a cough. 'I thought playing here alongside you was already a dream come true. But this. This is entirely something else.' Michael can practically feel David's smile against the top of his head. It's beautiful and calm, somehow already indescribably more familiar than it has any right to be for this being the first time.
'Same, honestly,' Michael sighs. Why does David's voice have to be so incredibly erotic? Not like he's not used to it by now, but it's still. Distracting.
'I'm sorry, David. I- I honestly cannot say what I'm even waiting for but-'
'Shush. If you wanna wait, we wait. You don't have to explain anything. It's fine.'
And just like that; it is. David is holding him and occasionally pressing his face into Michael's curls to kiss his head and it is so very nice. He could live like that, Michael thinks, and shouldn't that be terrifying? But it's not. Instead, it's warm and tender and it feels incredibly possible. He smiles and relaxes a bit more into David's embrace. Maybe he actually did die, in the end. Maybe this is heaven, he thinks and maybe he says it, too. And maybe David laughs and tells him he's adorable. He's in heaven, Michael thinks.