Archive of Our Own ^beta

All the shopfronts on the street were dark, the only light coming from that of the tattoo studio. Daniel’s footsteps echoed off the quiet store windows as he came to a stop outside the familiar black and gold window.

Michael was sitting alone inside, on the stool at his station, leaning over his phone on the little tattoo table and scrolling aimlessly.

The only sign of life on the still and silent street, Michael looked almost surreal.

Daniel pushed the door open and Michael turned, smiling when he saw it was Daniel. “Hey,” he said. “How’s it going?”

“Sorry, I was out for dinner,” Daniel said. “My friends were talking so much. Were you waiting long?”

“No, my last appointment just ended.”

Daniel sat down in the big black chair with Michael’s name embroidered on the side, and took out his notes from his bag. “So, do you want the long story or the short one?”

The smile on Michael’s face grew. “Whichever one you prefer. I have time.”

His eager eyes made Daniel comfortable enough to launch into the details of what he wanted. When Daniel explained that he wanted the tattoo to be a part of his final project, Michael looked a little taken aback.

“Really? For your final project?”

“You seem surprised. Surely you’ve tattooed more people with less reason behind it?” Daniel joked.

“That’s true,” Michael ceded. “But I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just surprising is all.”

Daniel shrugged. “It’s cool. I get to have it for my final project, and I get to eternalise the memories of my uni experience in a piece on my body.”

“Okay, that sounds reasonable.”

Michael was staring at Daniel expectantly, spurring him into action. “You know Cupid? Eros, the Greek god?” Michael nodded at him so Daniel continued, “He represents love, and the act of falling in love and helping people fall in love. My project will be based on the story of Eros and Psyche from Metamorphoses.”

“Why Eros?” Curiosity leaked into Michael’s voice.

“Because he represents love, and it’s one of my favourite feelings. I know it sounds weird, but I’m an absolute sucker for it. I fall in love so easily. With concepts, with places, with people. And this time I’ve fallen in love with Greek Mythology and Cupid. I’m just that kind of guy,” Daniel gave half a shrug and laughed but his heart was beating a little faster in his chest.

He was really sitting here baring his soul to a man he barely knew. But he had always been an open person. The setting in the tattoo studio just felt that little bit more intimate and what with the attractive man sitting across from him. It was throwing Daniel off.

Michael was smiling at him, “Sounds like a gift. Especially for an art student. Constant inspiration.”

“Oh, you don’t want to hear about my farm life obsession from our second year. I have two sheep that I adopted back then,” Daniel couldn’t resist telling him.

It got a laugh out of Michael and that made Daniel relax.

“I thought you lived in the city?” Michael raised a brow in question when he had settled back.

“Yeah, I meant online adoption. They’re on a farm in the midlands. But I fund them.” Daniel tried to think back. His farm life obsession had been a good one.

“So you fund not one, but two sheep you’ve never seen?” 

“Excuse me, I am no idiot. I get snaps of them every week,” Daniel grinned.

“That sounds like a treat.” Michael looked like he thought it was anything but that.

“It is. Back to the tattoo,” Daniel decided to let the poor man breathe.

“Yes, the tattoo,” Michael nodded, as if finally remembering the reason for their consultation. “So, what part of the story will the tattoo be themed around?”

“The introduction. I just want it to be a cherub in the classic Hellenistic style. What people think when they first hear of Cupid. And I don’t want the tattoo to be too big, I need space on my skin for the other things I will be obsessed with eventually,” Daniel said.

Michael lightly bobbed his head, approving of his ideas. “Sounds good. I have done a cherub or two before, but I’m guessing you’ll want to draw this one yourself?”

“This project is going to be a collective. Maybe you can draw it for me?” Daniel tilted his head to the side, giving his Michael his smoothest puppy eyes.

Michael sat back in his chair and looked at the chrome clock on the wall.

“I could draw up a little sketch for you right now, and then refine it in time for the actual tattoo?”

Daniel definitely had nowhere to be. “Sounds good.”

Michael left his seat and reached for a hardbound pentalic sketchbook and some pencils from the shelf under his station.

“Would you like colour in it?” Michael asked him as he flipped the book open to a fresh page.

“Nope. No colour. Just an outline. They don’t know him or what he’s about at this point. Just his one form.”

Michael looked up at him from underneath his dark lashes. “I like how you think about art. So you’ve read the story of Eros. Who do you like to imagine his parents to be?”

Daniel took his sweet time popping mints out of the carton he usually carried in his pocket into his mouth before replying. “Honestly, I liked the version in Aristophanes’s Creation where he’s born in the night and to the darkness. It’s the most out there one, but out of the darkness there is born the ability to love? Who doesn’t like that?”

“You’re right. I guess my reasoning would be the same, but with Aphrodite and Ares being Eros’s parents. The goddess of love and the god of war giving rise to the god of chaos?” Michael chuckled, before answering his own question. “Chaos and love do run close enough.”

Daniel watched Michael work, the muscles in his entire arm moving under his skin as his fingers gently guided pencil on paper. 

Hot.

“So how did you take up Greek mythology?” Daniel asked, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his palms.

“I loved it when I was a kid. I had a phase,” Michael smiled up at him.

Daniel could watch him talk about it all night. And he did, asking Michael about anything and everything he knew on the subject, posing question after question and adding tidbits he’d learned fresh from memory. Daniel admired how knowledgeable Michael seemed to be on most subjects.

When Michael was done with the sketch, he backed up from it, letting Daniel have a look. 

Michael said it was only a first draft but it looked so beautiful for a first attempt that Daniel decided this was the one he wanted for his tattoo.

“No need to redo it. I like this one the best.”

“Excuse me?” Michael put his ear forward, but it didn’t have to do with his hearing at all.

“I like this one. You don’t need to do a better version.”

“But why? I can clean it up and make it look more sophisticated.”

“You know how I said I’d like it to represent memories? Well, this one can carry the memory of a night well spent, talking about art and Greek mythology.” 

Michael sighed. “As you wish.” 

Daniel checked the time on his phone and it was close to midnight. “I didn’t even realise it was this late,” he said.

“Me neither.” Michael laughed, like he was surprised at his own behaviour.

“I’m psyche-d for my tattoo,” Daniel grinned.

Michael groaned at his pun. “You did not.”

"I did,” Daniel nodded, his smile only getting wider, if that was even possible. “See you at the appointment then?”

“See you soon.”

Daniel stepped out of the tattoo parlour and into the street, the cold making him shiver a little. He rubbed his hands as he crossed over to the other side of the road. The window in the coffee shop across from the tattoo studio held a big 'help needed’ board.

The light in the tattoo parlour was still on when Daniel looked back. He couldn’t stop smiling.

------

Charles followed behind Daniel as they turned off the street where they had parked.

“You should’ve let me dress you at the very least, Daniel. What if they think you’re unprofessional?”

Daniel watched the flow of traffic stop in the windy afternoon as he crossed the road and walked towards his destination.

“I’m applying for the barista opening, Charles, not corporate manager. They’re not judging me on my lack of taste to show up at fashion week.”

“I know that. I’m just saying. A nice suit never hurt anybody,” Charles said airily.

They stopped in front of the coffee shop, Daniel’s gaze inadvertently turning to the tattoo parlour across the road. He couldn’t see any familiar faces through the window and the one he had hoped to spy. Michael. Daniel hadn’t been able to shake the thought of his tattoo artist since their consultation. 

“You’re late, Dan. What are you staring at?” Charles followed his gaze before Daniel felt eyes on him once again. “Is this the tattoo place? Oh my god, is this where you came after our dinner the other day?“

“Not now, Charles. I’m late.”

“Fine. But I want to hear all about this Michael person and his nice hands.”

Max must’ve ratted him out. Traitor. 

The bell over the coffee shop door rang to signal their entrance, the aroma of coffee and sugary treats instantly overtaking Daniel’s senses. 

He took in the design of the place, the unpainted exposed brick wall and high ceiling giving it a rustic feel. The spacious seating area had two booths and four tables, with cozy looking armchairs huddled in one corner. There were students from the nearby colleges seated in some of the spaces while the rest remained unoccupied. 

Low hanging ceiling fixtures bathed the space in muted yellow light. The counter seemed to occupy one whole wall and the adjacent corner with the display case cut to follow the contour of the room, trimmed in wood. An array of cakes and pastries lined the display. There was a blackboard occupying the wall behind the counter, listing the entire menu with pink and green plants drawn in chalk along the edges.

A woman carrying a tray of cinnamon rolls out of what he assumed was the kitchen stopped in front of him to ask for his order. Daniel informed her he was here for the interview. 

She told him to wait as she went back through the door she had come in from earlier. Daniel took one of the seats closer to the counter and watched Charles fall into a seat across from him.

“Ooh! They have lean smoothies, Dan. I already like your new workplace. You’ll be making me a lemon turmeric drink the next time I see you in here,” Charles read the drink off the menu board before turning to him and giving him a confident and assured smile.

“You don’t have to wait around for me to get the interview done, Charles. Thanks for the ride.”

“I don’t have to go into work today. And there’s no classes tomorrow, so no worries,” Charles spoke casually, fixing the lapels of his long coat.

Daniel returned a gratuitous smile of his own. 

Charles was a character of his own. Daniel had known him for roughly two years now, and he had watched Charles come into his own over that time, retaking control of his life. He’d recently found out that Charles had overcome an addiction problem and to see Charles thriving and truly be as confident within as he always acted outwards – it made Daniel strangely proud of his younger friend.

Daniel was called up for his interview and it went surprisingly well considering his lack of previous experience. They told him they’d give him a call within the next two days and Charles’s reaction to that particular part was downright comical.

“They should’ve hired you on the spot. I don’t see interviewees lining up here,” he gestured to the door as they made their way out, speaking in a hushed but furious tone.

“Yeah, alright. I need to get you home before your boyfriend reports me for a kidnapping,” Daniel said, walking ahead of Charles. In reality, Charles was dropping Daniel home but Max would totally text him to ask. 

He looked behind him and Charles was staring at the tattoo parlour, and by the looks of it, just about ready to head there. Daniel didn’t remember the last time he had reacted this fast to hold someone back, only just managing to grip onto the material of Charles’s leather trench coat between his fingers.

“Where are you going?”

Charles looked back at him, eyes wide and doe-like. “I just want to have a look at their work.”

“Oh, I know you’re not getting any tattoos anytime soon. Get back here.”

“Please, Daniel,” Charles whined. “I’m the only one that hasn’t seen Michael! Do you know what that does to my know-it-all heart?” Charles clutched at his chest dramatically.

“Nope. No way, this is not a piece of art in a museum you need to see, Charles. Not happening,” Daniel shook his head, walking in the direction of the car once more.

“C’mon, Daniel!” Charles said, but followed Daniel anyway.

“I’ll show you on Instagram,” Daniel relented. Charles yelped in approval, making Daniel roll his eyes. “But no following him or messaging.” 

If Daniel could refrain after hours of stalking Michael’s instagram, Charles would deal. And if Charles protested behind him, Daniel simply pretended to not hear him anymore.

------

Michael’s favourite part of every day was his morning gym session. His job wasn’t particularly demanding or toxic – in fact, Michael loved the tattoo place he worked at for all the kindness that they afforded him all the time – but being at the gym and working up a sweat just…calmed Michael. It not only helped Michael to temporarily forget all the thoughts running in his head, but also reminded him how he was alive.

The post-gym shower always made him refreshed enough to face the day, and honestly, Michael didn’t remember one time he’d strayed from his morning routine since he’d moved here.

That routine included a customary coffee run at the coffee shop opposite the tattoo studio to grab his morning americano before heading to work. The coffee place would usually just be opening when Michael arrived, the usual morning barista behind the counter – but this time that familiar face was replaced by another familiar face.

It was Daniel, that art student with whom Michael spent hours talking about Greek mythology.

He didn’t notice Michael at first, instead staring bewilderedly at the steam coming out of the coffee machine. Michael stopped across the counter from him and waited, but when he didn’t notice, spoke out, “It’s supposed to do that.”

Daniel’s head moved so quickly towards him, it was comical. “I know, but –” he sputtered for a few moments, then gave up. “Hey.”

“Hey, Daniel. I didn’t know you worked here.”

“It’s my first day,” Daniel said. “And you’re my first ever customer.”

“Oh, I’m honoured,” Michael chuckled. “Maybe I’ll order something fancy for you to practice.”

“Please, no,” Daniel said. The coffee machine stopped steaming and Daniel sighed in relief. “Oh, thank god.”

“Can I have a large americano?” Michael asked. “And a ham and egg sandwich, please.”

“Well, you don’t have to make it that easy for me,” was Daniel’s reply.

“That’s my usual order,” Michael pointed out. “You should remember that. I come here every morning.”

“Will do, sir,” Daniel grinned an utterly dashing grin, then proceeded to prepare Michael’s order. 

The coffee tasted different than usual, but Michael didn’t hate it. He brought it back across the road just in time for business to open. 

He didn’t really think too much about their encounter until halfway through the day, when he looked out the window and saw Daniel sitting at the table along the coffee shop window, messily chomping into a sandwich. He was still in his little brown apron, so Michael assumed it was his break time. 

Daniel was apparently pretty attentive to his surroundings, because he quickly noticed Michael looking at him, and flashed a smile at him. He pointed at his sandwich, then made a motion of scooping food into his mouth, raising his eyebrows as if to ask if Michael had eaten.

Michael usually popped into the apartment upstairs, where he rented a room from the tattoo studio owner, to whip up a quick lunch for himself. Maybe an omelet, or a sandwich like Daniel was having. But he’d just finished back-to-back appointments that day and hadn’t eaten, so he shook his head at Daniel. 

Daniel waved at him to go over, gesturing at the food display behind him. Michael shook his head again, but Daniel pointed at it again, more violently.

So Michael signed out for his break and crossed the road to look for him. 

“I’ll get you something,” Daniel greeted him, wiping his hands on his apron and getting up from his stool. 

“No, I’ll just order at the counter,” Michael said. “Sit down. It’s your break.”

“It’s my treat.”

“Your first day at work and you’re throwing money around already, huh?” Michael grinned.

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Fine, get your own food.”

Michael got himself a smoked salmon bagel and returned to the seat next to Daniel. Daniel was chomping on his sandwich again, but instead of looking through his phone like everyone else was, he was watching people walk by outside the window, his eyes bright and eager.

“So how do you plan on juggling work and your art projects?” Michael asked him. 

“The shifts are short here,” Daniel explained. “I’m taking longer shifts this week just so I can learn more stuff.”

“Oh, nice,” Michael smiled. “Hey, you do most of your stuff at an art studio, right?”

“Yep, my mentor has a space for me to work in.”

“Do you think there could be – like, could I get a little space? I’m thinking of doing a small project for some credit.”

Daniel turned to him, surprised. “Oh, I thought you’d graduated.”

Michael chuckled. He’d rather not talk about it, but. “I’m taking some online classes.”

“Cool. I’ll check for you.”

Daniel’s break ended about fifteen minutes later, so Michael went back to prepare for his next appointment. The day ended up being really busy, and Michael was still stuck at his station near closing time.

The sign in the window had been turned to ‘closed’ a while earlier, so when the front door squeaked open, Michael was all ready to tell whoever it was to leave. 

But it was only Daniel, carrying a little brown doggy bag and an iced drink. He placed them on the empty front counter and called out to Michael. 

“Hey, I noticed you haven’t had dinner, so I brought you something.”

Michael smiled. Like his lunch, dinner was also usually something simple he made himself. Having Daniel watch him from across the road was simultaneously a little weird and also very convenient.

“Cool, thanks,” he said.

Daniel stood there for a moment as if he was wondering if he should stay, but then seemed to realise Michael still had a customer. He pulled open the door again and left after giving Michael a wink.

Michael honestly wouldn’t mind if this happened every day.

------

Daniel only took up opening or closing shifts, which made complete sense to Michael because then he’d have all the time in the afternoon to work on his projects. 

What didn’t make so much sense to him was why he actually noticed which shifts Daniel took up. He blamed it on the fact that Daniel forced him to make that realisation by always having Michael’s breakfast order ready for him to collect and bringing free dinner to him.

Daniel had the closing shift one day when his friends came to visit. Michael recognised one of them as the young man who came with Daniel to get his rose tattoo and sat patiently for over four hours just holding Daniel’s hand. They were a cute couple. One of those that would always remain in the back of Michael’s mind.

It didn’t actually hit Michael that he hadn’t seen that boy around Daniel for quite some time until Michael saw him appear that night holding someone else’s hand.

That was just weird.

Michael jogged across the street to get the leftover food he was sure Daniel had saved him, having half the mind to ask him about this open relationship that they were all having. 

He met Daniel outside the coffee shop, with Daniel having stepped out to greet his friends. Daniel looked delighted to see him for some reason, and waved at both Michael and his two friends, his arms flopping like a giant bird.

“Michael!” Daniel exclaimed. “Hey, come meet my friends. You remember Max, right? And his little lover boy here is Charles. Guys, this is Michael.”

Max only smiled at him, but Charles, for one, looked absolutely thrilled to see Michael. He was holding on to Max’s hand and his arm, but he let go to step forward and hold Michael by the arms like he was examining a product to be bought. 

“Oh, hi, Michael,” he beamed.

“Charlie, you’re embarrassing Max,” Daniel pointed out, and Charles retreated reluctantly.

“I’m just worried that he’s going to want to style you next,” Max said.

“I thought –” Michael gestured between Daniel and Max. “I thought you guys were…”

“Dating? Yeah, nah,” Daniel laughed. “It was a thing, but it wasn’t really.”

Michael pretended to understand, though he unexpectedly found himself a little...relieved that Daniel was single. He decided to shake it off. 

Daniel led him inside to take his food, and Max and Charles started to follow, but Michael felt Charles abruptly bump him in the back as they were going through the door.

He turned, thinking maybe Charles had tripped on something, but Charles was suddenly looking frantic. He tried to squeeze through the door ahead of Michael as Max attempted to hold him back like a misbehaving puppy, looking as confused as Michael felt. 

“What’s going on?” Max asked. “Charles. What’s happening?”

Charles glanced at the street ahead of them, then looked helplessly back at Max. He took a step back so he was half hiding behind Max, his hand gripping on so tightly to Max’s that Michael could see his knuckles turn white. 

“It’s him,” he whispered quickly, like he was hoping Max would understand without him saying anything else. “It’s – that’s the guy I lived with.”

Everyone turned to where Charles was looking, even Michael, even though he had absolutely no idea what was going on. There was someone brisk walking down the street towards them, seeming to be smiling right at Charles. It was a somewhat sinister smile. Michael could understand why Charles was reacting like that.

“Charles!” he called out as he approached, making Charles shrink even further back into Max’s shoulder. “Long time no see, buddy.”

A fury stronger than any Michael had seen before crossed Max’s usually gentle features.

Before anyone could react, Max had lunged forward, his fist making a loud crunch upon contact with the guy’s face.

“He’s not your fucking buddy,” he shouted, flinging Charles aside and bending over so he could continue hitting, over and over again. “Fuck off. He’s not your buddy.”

“Max,” Charles said weakly, now his turn to pull Max back. He wrapped his arms around Max’s waist, but couldn’t seem to do anything against Max’s adrenaline rush. He seemed to be sobbing as he said, “Max, please. Please stop.”

Michael decided to help him out, grabbing Max’s wrists to stop him, then wrapping around Max’s waist like Charles did and picking him off. 

“I think you’d better leave,” Michael said to the dude with the bloodied face, lying on the ground staring at them.

He duly got up and left the scene, and when Michael turned back around, he saw Daniel cradling Max’s equally bloodied hand and looking completely helpless. 

“I think we have a first aid kit inside somewhere,” he was saying.

“We have one,” Michael offered. “Just come across the road with me.”

Daniel promised to join them when he was done closing up, so Michael and Charles guided Max across the street.

“Fucking bitch,” Max muttered. He winced when Charles touched his hand. “Fuck.”

He still looked thoroughly furious as Michael sat him down at his station and got out the first aid kit. He sat fuming as Charles dragged over a chair and sat down next to him.

“Do you think it’s broken?” Charles asked Michael.

“Can you clench your fist?” Michael asked.

Max could, though it was accompanied by a whole bunch of profanity, so Michael suspected it was at least heavily bruised. It was all scratched up, too, on the outside, so Michael cleaned it and applied some ointment, holding Max’s wrist down when he struggled.

“Why’d you do that?” Charles whispered, wiping his tears roughly with his hand. His other hand was gently holding Max’s good hand. 

“He was coming towards us,” Max said, his voice curt like a stubborn child.

“He wasn’t going to do anything to me,” Charles said. “It’s all over, and you told me to forget it, remember?”

“I –” Max was fidgeting in his seat now, making Michael’s job a little harder. “Just the way you reacted to him, I – it just made me so fucking angry that he was acting like you were friends.”

“I just get anxious about it,” Charles said softly. “I’ll be fine.”

Max was hysterical by then, completely turning in his seat and pulling his hand out of Michael’s grasp. “You don’t fucking get it,” he said. “Charles, I love you. He could’ve killed you – you could’ve died last year, and I would have never met you. And I can't imagine that. I can't imagine not meeting you. I love you.”

Charles’s tears were spilling down his face again as he asked, in barely a whisper, “You what?”

“I love you,” Max’s voice was timid.

Charles placed a hand on Max’s cheek, and Michael saw Max relax into it. And Charles. Charles just looked so relieved, like he’d been waiting ages to say the words, “I love you too, Max.”

Max finally smiled at that, the gentleness flowing back into his face. His hand moved back into Michael’s grip, and Michael managed to wrap some gauze and a bandage around it.

“You don’t have to do anything like that just so you can tell me that,” Charles said. “You know you’ll always be my hero.”

Michael took that as his cue to get the fuck out of there, so he put the first aid kit back and slipped out, returning to the coffee shop where Daniel was wiping down the tables.

“What’s going on?” he asked as Michael entered.

“I don’t really know,” Michael confessed. “Do you know who that guy was?”

Daniel shook his head, then tilted it in the direction of the window. “So why are they full on making out now?”

Michael turned around and discovered that was indeed what was happening. “Oh, Max said ‘I love you’ to Charles.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I missed that,” Daniel said. “It’s like missing my own child’s first steps.”

Michael laughed. “Don’t be so fucking dramatic, Daniel.”

“I’m not,” Daniel retorted. “Tell me what happened next. Did Charles say it back?”

“I mean –” Michael gestured across the street. “That’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

Daniel gave a little chuckle, then went quiet. Michael looked out the window a while longer before realising he was probably being really creepy, so he snapped out of it and turned back to Daniel.

Daniel was just looking at him, a look of slight yearning in his eyes. He met Michael’s gaze and held it for a few moments, his eyes a soft brown in the dim coffee shop lighting. He looked like he was...admiring Michael, almost.

“What?” Michael whispered. Daniel’s gaze almost made Michael melt a little bit inside.

The corners of Daniel’s lips curled slightly upwards. “Nothing,” he said. “I just hope they don’t end up fucking on your chair.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Michael shoved him in the shoulder. “They’re not going to do that. Everyone can see them through the window.”

“You never know, Michael. I mean, Charles is like, French.”

Michael rolled his eyes as Daniel found himself fully entertained by his own jokes. He helped himself to the bag of leftover food sitting on the counter, sitting on an empty chair as he watched Daniel flit around the tables, whistling a happy tune.

Daniel’s cheerful disposition was just so contagious. Michael couldn’t imagine ever being upset when Daniel was around.

They made their way back to the tattoo studio after Daniel was done closing up. Max and Charles were just sitting inside, looking confused as to what they were supposed to do now that no one was around. They looked relieved when they saw Michael again.

“Sorry,” Charles said as they waited for Michael to lock the front door so they could all head out for supper – an event that Michael hadn’t known was happening but was now suddenly invited to. “I don’t think we gave a very good first impression.”

Michael couldn’t help but laugh. If only the three of them knew about all the chaotic baggage Michael himself owned. “It’s no problem. I’m glad I could help.”

Charles gave him a smile of approval, then nodded at Daniel as if to tell him the same. Daniel went tomato red, looking like he wanted to just leave his younger friends out on the street. 

Supper was filled with laughter – even from Max, who seemed to have forgotten how fucked up his hand was. There was a lot of teasing and whining and friendly wrestling; Michael was dragged into it, too, although he maintained his innocent stance. 

Despite having really only met Max and Charles for the first time, by the time the night ended and it was time for them to go their separate ways, Michael felt like he’d known them forever. 

They all just...had a unique way with people. Charles with his bubbly personality, Max with his openness and kind gaze, and Daniel with his cheeriness, his care to include Michael in whatever conversation they were having, his childish but entertaining antics, his intense brown eyes, his – 

Really, Michael could go on.

As he watched them all climb into Charles’s car at the end of the street the tattoo parlour and coffee shop sat on, their laughter echoing in the quiet night, he found himself believing that he might have found himself a new place to belong; a place to allow himself to belong.

------

Daniel opened the door to the tattoo studio and was hit with the familiar smell of disinfectant and ink.

Michael was smiling at him brightly, and it made Daniel’s mind blank completely for a moment.

“Hey, you.” Michael waited at his station for Daniel to join him and settle in.

Daniel managed to get his wits about and spotted the empty coffee cup on his table. “Hey yourself. Who served you breakfast today?”

“Oliver did,” Michael grinned, aware of Daniel’s slight disdain for his fellow barista. 

“Bet he didn’t give you the best sandwich on the rack,” Daniel tutted, but he was incapable of keeping off the smile on his face. There was one other customer getting tattooed at a station on the other end of the studio, so Daniel kept his voice low.

Michael shook his head. “Only you, Daniel. Are you feeling good? Had some breakfast yourself?”

Daniel nodded.

“So, I know you said you wanted to get that first sketch,” Michael said, and Daniel could almost see the big 'but' coming his way. “But I still made a second sketch. Because we’re friends and I need to at least give you the option. You can look at it and ignore it if you want, but I do need to give you the option.”

Michael finished with a sheepish smile as he pulled out the original sketch and the new ones he had drawn. Daniel was swayed by the thoughtfulness of it. 

There were cleaner lines and better shading in the new one, and it looked more put together. And surprisingly, it still kept the heart of the original one. Daniel smiled when he looked up at Michael.

“Yeah, okay. I get what you mean. Thanks for stopping me from being a total idiot,” he said, handing the revised sketch back to Michael.

Michael only smiled. "So we can start, then?"

Daniel nodded again, and picked the one he wanted. He watched Michael repeat the steps from the last time he got tattooed here, sterilising the station and shaving Daniel’s forearm. He dampened Daniel’s skin and applied the stencil to Daniel’s liking. Michael worked with assured but gentle hands that were just...so addictive to watch.

“No Max to hold your hand this time around, huh?”

That made Daniel laugh. “Guess I’ll just have to be a big boy.”

“Speaking of them, is Charles okay? He looked rough that night.”

“He is. Thanks for helping out. I didn’t even register what was happening at first, honestly...” Daniel wasn’t sure what had happened, but he had lost all his nerve when Charles’s old friend had shown up.

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael said. It seemed to Daniel that Michael had done enough de-escalation in his life to know exactly what to do.

Michael placed the new needle on his skin and got to work, holding his wrist down with the lightest of pressures. Daniel still winced a little, making Michael glance up at him.

“You know the first few minutes are the hardest, right?” Michael asked.

Daniel nodded, focusing on Michael’s form instead. He tried to imagine where Michael held his tattoos since Daniel couldn’t see any on the skin visible on his arms. He tried to crane his neck to see if Michael had any under the collar of his shirt.

Michael lifted the needle from Daniel's arm, mistaking his ogling for discomfort. Daniel justified to himself that there was definitely some discomfort too.

“Tell me how your art project revolves around the story of Cupid and Psyche,” Michael asked, looking at Daniel expectantly for a while before Daniel processed what Michael had said and dove headfirst into explaining his plan.

"So, I'm thinking of tweaking it to provide a modern element. Each major part of the story will be represented, of course, but in a different form of art. The main character is Cupid, and his introduction is in the form of this tattoo on my arm."

Michael went back to tattooing his arm once Daniel was busy explaining his art project, satisfied with the distraction it was providing Daniel with. 

"Cupid's here to have a good time, as he's been told by Aphrodite. In our modern world, it can be hard to keep in touch with our own feelings sometimes, because everything is so fleeting. Temporary. For example, in terms of love and relationships, we're all on hookup apps and going to parties for a good time, to find someone to spend the night with."

Michael looked up at him once more, a glint of curiosity in his gaze. Daniel thought he might have accidentally misled Michael to think that he was some kind of philanderer. That wasn't exactly ideal, but Michael's expression remained curious and not judgemental, so Daniel decided to continue. 

"So this Cupid tattoo, he doesn't have a string in his bow because he still doesn't have the mental capacity to find love. It's all so transient. All relationships. But Cupid meets Psyche and desires her instantly. This explains why the arrow is missing, because it's pricked him instead."

Michael nodded lightly, still focused on the tattoo. The outline of Cupid's body was almost done. 

"And then the fact that they don't really know each other – I want to represent that with some element of mystery. I'm not entirely sure what it will be yet. It could be some kind of hidden structure. I need to figure out some detail about shapes and shadows to make it more mystifying. I want it to, like, befuddle people. 

“Cupid and Psyche’s sex before they know each other will be represented by some moving visual art. Like a video illustration. It would provoke feelings such as those that come from a one night stand. But I might need some help with that, from someone who knows tech."

Daniel wished he could show Michael his vision board that he had in his room next to the floor lamp because he swore it made more sense than this.

He looked down at his arm again, and Cupid's wings were already outlined. Michael was starting on the bow. 

"Who would that be?" Michael asked without looking up, urging Daniel to continue, like he knew the sound of Daniel's own voice drowning out that of the tattoo needle would be the only thing that made the pain less noticeable. 

Daniel went on an entire side track about what Max and Charles were studying, and how they all met, and how Lando was starting to have his own life now that he had his hot Spanish TA, and didn't spend hours cooped up in his room like he used to do. He even told Michael about Pierre, who Daniel didn't even really see so often. Daniel really just loved his friends so much. His little home away from home. 

"Anyway, Max can probably help me a little bit. He's good with computers and visual design," he told Michael, who nodded again. 

Cupid's head of curly hair was all fully shaded in now, done during Daniel's incessant chattering about his friends. Daniel marvelled at the distraction tactic Michael used on him; not with anything else, but using Daniel on himself. 

But it was nice that Michael actually listened to what he was saying, and didn't just make him talk for background noise. 

Daniel continued without any further persuasion required. 

“Psyche’s curiosity to know Cupid’s identity and her hunt for it, I’ll represent with my human form photography. When she finally unveils his identity. It'll be done in an open space, or with bright lighting or spotlights, to represent the enlightenment. It could also be a progressive thing, from darkness to lightness, for the whole process. Human form photography is one of the most flexible forms of art to me, so this will be quite fun.”

He winced at the needle pressing into his skin and looked down. Michael was detailing into the wings. It was heavy black ink which was why it hurt more.

“Keep telling me, Daniel," Michael spoke without looking up.

He breathed deeply, and started again. “Okay. Then Psyche’s struggles in her quest to find her way to Cupid again when he’s taken away from her, everything Aphrodite puts her through, will be immortalised in a classic painting. This is quite a large piece of work, so it requires more careful planning. 

“The little insects that help Psyche through this process will be expressed in a mural using more contemporary art. Brighter colours, stronger lines, more modern styles and figures, the likes. It will be dedicated to my friends and family, and all the other people who have helped me in my journey. The image of it I have in my head is very bright and pops out at you, like graffiti art. Reminds me of the city streets at home.

"And finally, I plan on doing Cupid and Psyche’s Zeus-sanctioned reunion and Psyche’s immortality in a piece using stained glass.” 

Michael’s brows raised to his hairline and he gasped, moving to turn off the tattoo machine momentarily. “Wow. It sounds amazing, Dan.”

The sound of Michael calling him by his nickname instead of just 'Daniel' made Daniel smile. To think that Michael thought they were close enough now. 

Daniel watched him get up to grab a drink of water. He handed Daniel a bottle of juice; Daniel hadn’t realised how parched he was until the icy liquid slid down his throat.

“Thanks,” he said, both for the compliment and the juice. 

“It sounds like a lot of work, though," Michael noted, his face showing genuine concern. "Will you be able to manage in time for your final?” 

“I spoke with my advisor about the entire thing, and she loved it. She said if I can do all the parts justice, I can have a full fledged exhibition of my own. I might have to take an extension on my semester into summer school, though. Or take an entire new semester. My scholarship would've ended then, which is why I started working at the coffee shop. To pay for the extra months on my degree, if it comes to that.”

“If you know it’s worth it, then it’s definitely worth it,” Michael said in such a soft voice that carried some much conviction, it made Daniel want to just close his eyes and relax back in his chair, daydreaming.

“Yeah. I think it is. And guess what?”

Michael looked at him expectantly.

“I need an assistant. A pseudo assistant.”

“Okay?” Michael questioned, not understanding the point. Daniel thought it was so obvious.

“Remember when you asked if you could use the art studio? Well, I convinced my mentor I needed some help and that my friend would be working on their own project while also helping me. It’s you! You can be my pseudo assistant and work on your own project.”

Michael’s mouth shaped into an o as a little sound of surprise fell from his lips.

“You did that for me?” 

He looked like he didn’t believe it.

“Yeah. It’s all set.”

“Thanks,” Michael said softly, smiling at Daniel before going back to his tattoo.

The needles had been changed so when Daniel looked down, Michael was already shading into the body of the little cherub without speaking another word. It was the last bit of detail in the tattoo.

“That went quicker than I thought.” Daniel was amazed.

Michael smiled, but didn’t look up. “It’s been a few hours. We’re almost done.”

The studio was empty once again. The other customer had left a while ago and the artist had disappeared somewhere. Daniel presumed they had a break room.

When Michael was done, Daniel looked down at the finished piece. It looked beautiful with clean lines and subtle shade work. Daniel couldn’t help but marvel at Michael’s talent. He wanted to run his hand over it so bad, but knew better.

“It looks amazing.”

Michael stretched back in his chair, and Daniel tried not to stare once more.

“I’m glad you like it.” And there it was. That soft smile again. “Thanks for getting me a spot at the studio, Dan. I was just surprised earlier. I kind of didn’t expect anything to come of it when I asked you.”

Daniel heard the mellow shift in Michael’s tone, and took that as his signal to not question it any further. “It’s cool. We can pick a time and I’ll take you to show you around.” 

Michael covered his arm in the same clear substance and wrapped it up, handing him the same aftercare kit he’d gotten the last time. Daniel followed him to the front counter and handed him his debit card.

“So can I consider you my regular now, then?” Michael smiled.

“Maybe,” Daniel grinned back at him. It surprised him how willing he would be to cover his entire body with tattoos if it meant he could see Michael more often, or feel Michael’s gentle hands on his skin. “Well, you’re my regular, so I have to return the favour.”

Michael chuckled. He opened the door for Daniel and stood by it as Daniel stepped outside. “So I’ll see you around?” he asked. “I’ll text you about the studio tour.”

“Sure,” Daniel said. Helping Michael to get a space in the studio wasn’t purely so Daniel could get a reason to see Michael all the time – Daniel wanted to help Michael to get his project done, above all – but if it did give him the opportunity to hang out with Michael more, then Daniel definitely wasn’t going to reject it.

He was halfway down the street when he turned back and saw Michael standing at his black and gold window, watching Daniel leave with a sort of fascinated look on his face.

Daniel waved at him and he blinked, seemingly embarrassed to have gotten caught. Then he gave Daniel a shy wave before retreating to his station.

Daniel couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

------

Daniel’s mentor’s art studio was a big rented space on the top floor of an industrial building, located about ten minutes either way to the tattoo shop and Daniel’s university. 

It was everything an art studio was expected to be – spacious, bright, and covered on every inch with dried paint of every colour Michael could imagine. Daniel pointed out his mentor’s space farthest from the door, and some other spaces for interns or short-term students. Daniel had the last third of the space, nearest to the door; it consisted of an entire wall, a table full of art supplies, and folded easels strewn everywhere. 

“You can use this space,” Daniel said, leading Michael to the very end of his own space, closest to the window. There was already an empty table, a chair, a stool, and some paintbrushes and a sketchbook. “I don’t know what you’re planning to create, but you can use anything you want from my space.”

“I’m currently torn between a painting and a sculpture,” Michael told him. 

“I think you’d do really well with a sculpture.” Daniel’s eyes were on Michael’s hands as he said that.

“Really?” Michael asked. Maybe if Daniel thought that, then Michael would go with a sculpture. After all, Daniel was the expert in the room. “I’ll have to do a little bit more research about what kind I want.”

“What are you thinking about so far?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know, or you don’t want to tell me?” Daniel chuckled good-naturedly. “Fine, is this going to be like, a running thing between us? You hiding your art?”

Michael would’ve been embarrassed that Daniel had seen through him so easily, had that not made him laugh. 

“I’m not going to comment on anything,” he said, walking over to examine the space, then turning back to Daniel. “So what options do I have for sculpting?”

Daniel dragged him excitedly to an old metal cabinet and dug through it until he found a few boxes of clay. He sat on the floor with Michael and explained to him the differences between the brands and grades.

“Just let me know which one you need more of,” he told Michael. “I’ll order it for you.”

“Okay,” Michael agreed. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” Daniel said, with the most stunning smile. “I’ll be here if you need any help.”

“I’ll take you up on that.”

They stood up and went back to Michael’s space with a few boxes of clay. Michael was examining the line of paint tins holding down a plastic sheet in Daniel’s area when Daniel asked, “How are you finding time for online classes, appointments, and now this?”

“Online classes I do at my own time, usually before I go to bed,” Michael told him. My appointments are quite flexible, I can pretty much do what I want.”

“So your boss likes you, then?”

Michael smiled. Honestly, without his boss, Michael didn’t know where he’d be right then. “Yeah, he’s really good to me. I rent a room from him.”

Daniel nodded. “I’m gonna get some work done. Just give me a shout if you need anything.”

Michael sat on the chair in his new space, letting the environment decide if it wanted him.

It was a habit he’d developed over the years – letting other people or even inanimate objects decide if they wanted him hanging around. He wasn’t too sure about the studio yet, but Daniel seemed to want him around, at least.

Michael watched Daniel move around, collecting some pencils and paint swatches before sitting down with his laptop and working on transferring his drawn drafts and chosen colours into his computer. He occasionally got up to use the scanner or check on some paint codes, but eventually noticed Michael watching him. 

“Do you need anything?” he asked, not so much like he was annoyed as he was genuinely concerned.

Michael shook his head. “Just...vibing with the place.”

Daniel burst into laughter. It was loud and contagious and it seemed to brighten up the entire place. “A true artist.”

“What can I say?” Michael shrugged, deciding he’d live up to Daniel’s cheerfulness. “I’m a natural.”

“Definitely. So how’s the vibing going? Good?”

“Not too bad.” Michael stood up and went over to Daniel, standing behind him. He had what looked like an unfinished painting on his computer. “Do you need any help? I’m your assistant after all.”

Daniel chuckled. “That’s just a name. So you can do your work here.”

“I want to help anyway.”

“Get a chair, then,” Daniel said, cracking his knuckles as if he was ready to launch into an entire TED talk.

Michael sat next to him as he explained the concept of his classic baroque painting of Aphrodite and her hold on Psyche, expanded to generalise the chaos of the nature of human relationships. It was a painting of many parts, with characters so well-detailed and impressions so deep that Michael almost couldn’t catch up. 

Before Michael could process anything that he said, he moved on to his mural design, which he and his advisor planned to be painted on a back alley wall. He detailed Psyche's figure and her position, then moved on to the insects helping her sort the grains, specifying which ones he wanted to represent each of his friends and his family, and how he was going to add special details just so they were uniquely themselves. 

Michael didn't realise he'd shifted his attention from Daniel's screen to his face and lips, moving passionately with his speech, until Daniel stopped speaking and turned to him. His lips were still moving but somehow the words coming out of them were incomprehensible to Michael. He blinked at Daniel. 

"Sorry, did I bore you?" Daniel chuckled, his voice fading back into existence. "Sorry. I do that a lot." 

"You didn't bore me at all," Michael said. He wasn't lying. "So how can I help?"

"What do you want to do?" Daniel asked. "I could use any help I can get. So, anything you want." 

"I think I'm good at painting," Michael said. "And colours."

"I would hope so," Daniel grinned cheekily, waving his arm, of the rose and cupid tattoos, at Michael. 

"I'll just tag along whenever."

"Sure," Daniel looked really happy about that arrangement. "The painting is really big, so it's probably going to take the longest. I'll juggle it around the other smaller ones. The mural, I can probably finish in a couple days."

"Anytime, Dan."

"Now, back to your project," Daniel turned in his chair to stare expectantly at Michael. 

Michael burst into laughter at how unsuccessfully Daniel was hiding his ploy to get something out of Michael. "I'm not going to tell you yet."

"You said 'yet,'" Daniel caught on. "So, you'll tell me some time."

"Didn't say when," Michael smirked. He picked up his chair and went back to his new little corner; it began to feel a little more welcoming, like the little table and stool were awaiting his return. They were inanimate objects, but it was nice to feel welcome somewhere. He felt Daniel's eyes following him. "Maybe never."

"Pft," Daniel eventually huffed. "You'll tell me. I know it."

Michael smiled to himself. He already knew what he was going to make, of course. He'd always known what it would be, just not the form it would be in. 

He opened the brand new sketchbook and started sketching the image of the guardian angel in his mind. Maybe, with some hope and magic, his very own guardian angel, whom he'd been searching for his whole life, would materialise from the stone he was going to create them in.  

------

Daniel couldn’t stop yawning on his morning shift after having spent the night finishing his essay that was due in the morning. He had set up the coffee machine, finally having figured out how to do that without making the monstrosity overflow or give him third degree burns.

He thought the only thing that would help was a cup of coffee and seeing Michael, so he made himself one and then prepared another for Michael along with his breakfast sandwich.

When he looked out of the window across the road, he almost dropped the coffees at the sight in front of him. Michael was standing there, in all his beautiful six foot tall glory clothed in jogging gear next to a…puppy. A chocolate labrador that only reached his knees. They looked plucked out of an editorial.

Daniel couldn’t resist running outside.

“Wait!” he held up a hand before putting down the coffee and bagged sandwich, pulling out his phone and holding it up to them. Michael looked confused, making Daniel shout at him to smile. And when he did, Daniel practically saw the grey clouds overhead clearing and his morning becoming brighter.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Michael shouted back, but he was laughing.

“Who’s this little guy?” Daniel asked, when he was satisfied with the shot he got and ran across the road.

“This is Milo.”

They looked like they had just returned from a run – Daniel appreciated the slight sheen of sweat on Michael’s face – but Milo looked easily excitable. Daniel handed the breakfast items to Michael and hunched down in front of Milo.

Daniel looked up at Michael for confirmation. Michael nodded slightly, giving him the go ahead.

Daniel patted the top of the puppy’s head and then scratched him behind his ear, the soft coat allowing his fingers to sink in. Milo yelped in response. 

“I didn’t know you had a puppy.” Dan stood back up to his full height, smiling up at Michael. He really did make Daniel’s mornings better.

“He’s my boss’s. I babysit this monster when they go away.” Michael bent down to briefly smooth a loving hand over his back like he was anything but a monster. “How’s your morning?”

“I was up until two trying to finish my paper in time and now I can’t keep my eyes open. Seeing Milo’s made it a lot better though.” Daniel said Milo but really it was all Michael and his perfect face and his perfect smile and perfect body.

“You still look good for it,” Michael laughed.

Daniel wished he believed Michael, but he’d accept it either way.

“Oh, here’s the shot I got of you,” Daniel held his phone up to show Michael. 

“Didn’t think this boring street could ever produce such a good backdrop for photos,” Michael said, analysing the picture but Milo started pulling at the leash, drawing his attention away. “You’re really good.”

“Cheers,” Daniel grinned.

He saw some students walking towards the cafe, reminding him that he was still on a shift and not, in fact, just out for a morning chat with the biggest crush of his life.

“I’ll see you then?” Daniel asked, snapping his fingers.

Michael held up the hand with the breakfast bag in lieu of a goodbye.

Daniel walked backwards to the cafe, unable to take his eyes off Milo and Michael.

*

After Michael texted him that he wouldn’t be going to the studio, Daniel decided to take the day off as well. He had just spent all morning on his feet serving coffee to impatient business folk and students with orders more complicated than any Culture Heritage exam he had taken, so he felt like he deserved it.

And he planned on going straight to his flat and falling into bed, except Max and Charles had been texting him incessantly to join them for dinner. 

Well, it was mostly Charles demanding he be there for whatever he would cook up, and Max asking nicely. Lando asked him to bring beer if he did plan on joining.

So what else could Daniel do but pick up two cases of beer from the local shop and make his way to their apartment?

He was instantly hit with a feeling of warmth when he entered the flat, a wave of nostalgia from when he had been in this same space last year, hoping to be a part of it. He came here now in a different capacity but Daniel was grateful for the sense of family it gave him.

“Charles? Is that homemade pizza I smell?”

Charles turned back in the kitchen, the look of surprise on his face quickly vanishing and changing into a smile.

“You came!” he took out his earbuds and waved Daniel over. “Come, you can pick the basil for me. God knows I’ve missed your competence.”

“I couldn’t ignore your five hundred messages anymore.”

Charles leaned his head lightly on Daniel, squeezing him in a half hug. “I missed you.”

“You’re going to make me cry now,” Daniel couldn’t help but say. His tone was meant to be light and joking but Daniel was touched by how Charles and Max always tried to include him in everything.

Charles left him to pick the basil, returning to sauce his pizza pies. Daniel spotted some coarsely grated parmesan and soft mozzarella in separate bowls next to a pack of pepperoni.

Charles must’ve seen him looking at the ingredients, so he scoffed, “Pepperoni, right? It’s just my usual Lando contingency in case he doesn’t appreciate that I’m making my best effort at a Neapolitan with this oven.”

Daniel refrained from pointing out that Lando hadn’t complained about Charles’s cooking whenever he’d been around, deciding to let Charles fuss it out. 

The pizzas were ready to go in the oven when Max and Lando joined them. Lando pumped his fist when Daniel informed him he’d gotten them beer, and grabbed a bottle from the fridge. Max was in the small kitchen with them now, pushing Charles out of the packed area.

“Can you believe that he barely gets any days where he’s home early and he wants to spend it cooking? And he won’t even let us help,” Max complained to Daniel. 

Daniel just nodded along. He loved how they both fretted over each other. He’d seen it even when Charles was still trying to make Daniel and Max a thing. It made Daniel want to laugh now, seeing how perfectly these two balanced each other.

“You guys go sit. I’ll set the table and bring them out.” Max was already cleaning up behind them, so Daniel followed Charles.

The pizza tasted better than any they had experienced in their city, Charles being the only one to pick at mistakes in it. The food was scarfed down in no time as the three boys marvelled at Daniel’s new tattoo. When the plates had been cleared and the beer bottles thrown out, they moved to the living room and soon, Lando left for the Spanish TA’s place.

The meal had left Daniel sated and even sleepier. He reclined back into the armchair. Charles and Max were sitting on the sofa, Max’s arm around Charles.

“So, how are you? How’s your final semester going?” Charles asked Daniel, looking like he had entered some therapist mode.

“It’s going alright. I’m on campus less and less. And I had to give up on football if I want to finish my project this year.” Daniel spoke, settling back on the sofa. 

“Man, that sounds awful. Sorry you had to give up football.”

Daniel shrugged, “I mean, most of my friends had to leave for their final projects as well, so it’s just always been that way I guess.”

“And how’s Michael?” Charles smiled suggestively, the perfect mix between an angel and the devil.

“Michael is…Michael,” Daniel sighed, sinking even further back into the chair. “He’s so dreamy! And yet so real. And he’s just amazing. Here, look at this picture I took of him today.”

Daniel pulled up the edited version of the picture that he’d sent to Michael during his lunch break.

“Oh, I’ve seen that! It was on my Instagram feed.”

“I told you not to follow him, Charles!” Daniel exclaimed, but when Charles only giggled, Daniel quickly pulled up the app, ignoring his notifications and looking for Michael’s profile. Michael had uploaded it a few hours ago, with a simple caption.

Some things just make the mornings worth waking up to.

“You two would make such a cute couple. He’d just be in your bed and you wouldn’t even have to think about photography composition,” Charles said dreamily. 

“I wish,” Daniel rolled his eyes, before it struck him. An idea was taking form in his head. “Charles? Has anyone ever told you you’re a genius?”

“Several times in a day,” Charles looked at him, puzzled. “But I don’t get what you mean?”

“I have a picture to compose for my final project with a Greek god,” Daniel’s voice filled with anticipation for their reaction to his idea. “And I’m gonna ask him to be in it.”

“Oh my god! That is genius. Daniel, why don’t you just tell him he is an irl greek god and that’s why you need to photograph him? Flirting 101,” Charles looked so pleased with himself for coming up with that.

Daniel vaguely remembered Max using a similar line on him. He remembered even thinking then how out of character it was for Max.

When he made eye contact with Max, the nod only confirmed what Daniel thought – it had, in fact, come from Charles.

“Sure, I’ll use that.”

“Oh, can I please dress him up for it? It’ll be the teeniest pants with plates over it so we can all enjoy a view of those thighs.”

It made Daniel laugh.

“I’m sitting right here, babe.” Max was looking at his phone, but still concentrating on the conversation at hand.

“You’ve got my favourite pair of legs, Maxy. Don’t you get jealous now,” Charles gave Max a peck on the lips before turning his attention back to Daniel. “So?”

“So what?”

“Can I be his stylist for the shoot?” 

“I don’t want to burden you with this, you’ve already got a lot on your plate.”

“Nonsense! I’ve got just enough time to do the things I want to do.”

The way Charles was looking at Daniel didn’t exactly leave much room for objection. Besides, it would probably help make the shoot that bit better.

“Just give in, Dan. He won’t really back off when he’s set on doing something,” Max spoke like he’d been on Daniel’s end of this way too often.

“Okay. If you’re sure. And if Michael agrees to do it at all.”

Charles looked so excited, and Daniel could only wonder what went on in that pretty head all day.

“He’s not saying no,” Max deadpanned.

“How are you so sure?” 

“Dan, you’re sorely mistaken if you don’t think you’re just as compelling as Charles when you ask for things.”

This was coming as news to Daniel. Sure, people did give in to him but he just always thought he was good at making his case. 

Daniel simply shrugged. “Think I should head out before l fall asleep here,” he said, getting up from his seat.

“You could use Charles’s room. It’s basically just his storage space now,” Max offered kindly.

“Nah. My bed’s calling me. Besides, I do not want to hear you two having sex in the other room,” Daniel covered his ears for effect before walking away with a grin.

Charles gasped behind him, while Max flipped him off.

“We’re a delight, I’ll have you know!” Charles yelled in his direction, making him look back.

Daniel saw Max murmur into Charles’s ear, before Charles suddenly looked alert, getting up and walking away.

“Hold up, mate,” Max said, standing up and walking to the coat rack where Daniel was zipping up his jacket. Charles returned a moment later holding a small potted plant in his hand, with the base wrapped in brown paper. He handed it to Daniel, who felt like he had no choice but to hold on to it, confused.

“This is a gift from the two of us. For your art studio,” Charles said, gently rocking on his heels and looking at him expectantly.

“Oh.” Daniel still felt just a tiny bit confused.

“For good luck,” Charles added.

Daniel laughed. “Well, you could’ve just gotten me some beer, or something.”

Max raised his eyebrows and jabbed a finger at Charles behind his back, but even if he hadn’t done so, Daniel just knew this idea had Charles written all over it.

“It’s for motivation. So even if you don’t want to go sometimes, you’ll do it for the little plant,” Max said, anyway.

It was still a strange present, but it made sense when Daniel remembered the plants he had seen in Charles’s room, so the sentiment behind it touched him.

“Thank you so much, guys,” he held onto the plant tighter, smiling at both his friends. “I’ll take care of it.”

He left their place with a smile on his face, his mood somewhat lighter as his path became clearer for what was coming ahead.

------

Daniel seemed to have taken a liking to Milo, waiting at the coffee shop window whenever he had a morning shift just hoping to see Milo. And whenever he did, he looked just that little bit more excited than he usually did when he saw Michael.

Michael had a late day once, dropping Milo off at the groomer’s before going to the gym and running some errands for his boss. It was almost midday when he got back to the tattoo studio, and he spotted Daniel standing forlornly in the coffee shop window in his little brown apron, holding a dishcloth.

Just the sight of him made Michael smile in complete delight.

Daniel looked to feel the same way, his expression immediately changing to one of glee. And that was even before he saw a freshly groomed Milo at Michael’s feet, tugging on his leash. His mouth opened in a silent squeal when he did. Michael saw him quickly hang his apron up and clock out before dashing across the road, halting to a stop in front of Michael.

“Hey, you,” Michael said.

Daniel beamed at him. He was brighter than the sun.

“You can pet him,” Michael added, since that seemed to be what Daniel was after.

Daniel immediately crouched over and ran a hand over Milo’s smooth coat. Milo gave a soft yelp, then stretched out his leash again to get nearer to Daniel. 

“You seem to like each other very much,” Michael pointed out, smiling.

Daniel glanced up at him. “You’re not too shabby yourself. We like you, too.”

Michael laughed. “How’s your morning been?”

“Good,” Daniel said, looking touched that Michael cared to ask. He looked at the canvas bag of supplies Michael had on his shoulder, and the bag of groceries in the other arm. “Do you need some help?”

Michael didn’t have time to respond before Daniel was tugging at the canvas bag until he got it on his own shoulder. He marched into the tattoo studio as Michael followed, then stopped near Michael’s station as he realised he didn’t know what he was supposed to do with the bag of supplies. 

“We can take them upstairs,” Michael said. His boss wasn’t around, anyway, and supplies usually went in the other spare room. “Here, I’ll take that. You take Milo.”

Daniel was absolutely thrilled at that suggestion. He cuddled Milo in his arms as Michael led him upstairs and unlocked the front door, and followed Michael around as he put away the groceries. 

“Is he hungry or anything?” Daniel asked. “Where’s his food? Can I feed him?”

Michael got out Milo’s bag of food from one of the cabinets and let Daniel scoop it out for him. Then Daniel sat next to Milo watching him eat as Michael put everything else neatly away.

“This place is pretty cool,” Daniel said when Michael finally settled down on the ground next to him. “It’s your boss’s place?”

Michael nodded. The apartment was open concept, with the doors to all the rooms opening up directly into the living area. Michael pointed at the last one in the corner; it was open, but Michael tried to be neat most of the time, so he wasn’t embarrassed that Daniel could see inside. “That’s my room.”

“It’s cool of him to let you live here,” Daniel scratched Milo under his ears.

“Yeah.”

“And it’s cool that he has a puppy.”

Michael smiled. “Yeah, Milo’s like my unofficial support dog.”

Daniel’s eyebrows raised in concern as he turned to Michael. “Why?”

Something in Daniel’s eyes made Michael want to spill everything, but he managed to restrain himself in time.

He cleared his throat before saying, “Just love chilling with him.”

Daniel only seemed to half accept that, his eyes wandering Michael’s face before he smiled a small smile. “So, hey. I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know if you remember, but there’s one part of my project where I’m planning to do human form photography?”

Of course Michael remembered. For some strange reason, he didn’t think he’d ever forget anything Daniel said or did. The way Daniel carried himself was frankly so mesmerising that Michael couldn’t help but save a copy of their every interaction in a special corner of his mind.

“I remember, yeah,” Michael said. “The one about Cupid’s reveal? With the open space and lights?”

The smile that crossed Daniel’s face then was...so endearing. “You remembered,” he said softly.

“Of course,” Michael punched him lightly in the shoulder. “I’m your assistant, remember?” 

Michael didn’t mention that the reason he remembered wasn’t as simple as just that.

When Daniel first stepped into the tattoo studio to get his rose tattoo, Michael hadn’t imagined that they’d become such fast friends. After all, Michael had never been someone with many friends. He’d never really gotten the chance, or given himself the chance.

It was nice that Daniel put so much effort into the friendship they had, and let it progress from Michael simply being nice and doing his job to...what it was right then. Sitting on Michael’s floor, talking about art.

Daniel was still staring at him, the same adoring look glossing his eyes. Michael raised his eyebrows.

“So...I need a subject for the set,” Daniel said. “And I’m thinking...do you want to do it? Can I photograph you?”

“Me?” Michael’s voice was softer than he wanted it to be.

Daniel nodded. “I mean, if you want. I think you’d make a good subject. And you can think about it, you don’t have to give me an answer right now.”

He was rambling, Michael could tell. His nervousness made Michael smile; the fact that he thought Michael could possibly reject him. 

“Why do you think I’ll be a good subject?”

“I just…” Daniel looked Michael up and down, slowly, like he was appreciating a piece of art. Then his eyes seemed to flash with enlightenment. “'Cause you're like a real life Greek god, so I gotta photograph you.”

It took Michael so much by surprise that he couldn't do anything but burst into loud laughter. And he really didn't remember ever laughing so freely, so heartily, in his life. 

"Do you really mean that?" he asked. "Or do you think by flirting with me you're going to get me to say yes?" 

"A little bit of both," Daniel said, with the most charming lopsided smile.

"So you think I'm a little like a Greek god?" Michael was just lapping it all up now. 

Daniel looked him up and down again, then with a firm nod, said, "Yes."

“Okay,” Michael agreed, not so much because of the compliment than just because he remembered that really nice photograph Daniel had snapped of him and Milo the other day. “I guess we can try it out.”

“Really?” Daniel asked excitedly, clapping his hands when Michael nodded. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, Michael.”

“It’s no problem. I hope I’ll be a worthy subject.”

“You will be.”

“But if it doesn’t work out, I’ll help you find someone else.”

“Like who?” Daniel’s tone was curious again.

Michael picked Milo up and held him next to his face. “This little guy.”

Daniel burst into laughter, the kind that came directly from the heart – the kind that hit Michael directly in the heart. God, Michael had become so used to hearing that laughter that he wasn’t sure what he’d do for a day without it. “Sure, he’d make a great subject,” Daniel said, then pressed his face close to Milo’s nose and started cooing at him. “Right? You’ll be great to photograph. You’re such a good boy.”

“Alright, hey, stop that. I’m still your first choice,” Michael joked.

A little giggle escaped Daniel’s lips as he stood up, leading Michael to do the same. “I have to go to the studio now,” he told Michael. “Thanks for letting me hang out.”

“Sure.”

“Will you be coming over today?”

“I have a short follow-up after lunch, then I’ll pop by in the evening.”

“I’ll see you then.”

“Do you want any lunch? I can make something for you to bring along.”

“I’ll deal,” Daniel waved off his offer. “You have a good day.”

Michael scooped Milo into his arms as the door clicked shut behind Daniel. 

“So what do we think about him?” he asked. “He’s cool, yeah?”

Milo licked Michael’s jaw in response. 

Sometimes, Michael truly felt that it was really just him and Milo against the world.

But he was glad that now Daniel had joined in, too.

*

Michael really didn’t know what he was getting himself into when he agreed to be the subject of Daniel’s photography.

The last nail in the coffin of that thought was hammered in when Daniel brought him out of town in Charles’s car. He sat in the backseat with Michael as Charles drove them, all his camera gear and whatever props he needed piled up in the front passenger's seat and the boot. 

“It’s so convenient to have a friend with a car,” he told Michael.

“Is that the only reason you’re friends with him?” Michael laughed, just teasing.

“No, I’m only friends with him because I need his boyfriend to help me with my visual art project, duh,” Daniel shot right back.

“That’s a better reason,” Michael agreed.

"It's like you guys think I'm deaf," Charles deadpanned from the front, his eyes trained lazily on the road. 

"You invited yourself, Charles," Daniel pointed out. 

"You guys thought you could do this without a stylist, like a couple of dumbasses," was Charles's reasoning. 

Michael chuckled. The dynamic Daniel shared with his friends was so familial and light-hearted. Michael hadn't had the luxury of that before. Not with anyone. 

Another few minutes of Daniel and Charles's banter later, they arrived at a large meadow. The grass was overgrown in some parts, reaching up to Michael's arms, but in other parts only just beginning their early spring growth spurt down at Michael's ankles. Most of the tall grass was still a light brown, though they looked almost golden in the sun, the first fully sunny day of that spring. The freshly growing grass was bright green.

There was a stream running down the middle of the meadow, which Daniel ran up excitedly to once he spotted it. "Oh, great!" he exclaimed. "The water's moving nicely today."

Charles dipped an entire hand in it, then immediately pulled it out, his face paling in shock. “Fuck! It’s fucking freezing.”

Michael could only laugh, but Daniel said, “No one asked you to do that, Charlie.”

Charles frowned at him, then started walking back to the car.

“Is he mad?” Michael asked, jogging after Daniel, who seemed to just be walking around in circles.

“Nah, he’s probably just going to get your outfit and stuff.”

“My outfit?” 

“Of course, did you think you were going to pose naked?” Daniel scanned Michael again. “Hmm.”

Michael had been about to point out that the Cupid on Daniel’s arm was, in fact, completely naked, but decided he wouldn’t feed anymore into whatever ideas Daniel was beginning to have.

Michael counted himself lucky that it was a sunny day, because the outfit Charles had prepared for him was nothing more than a thin white sheet with golden brown borders, to be wrapped around one of Michael’s shoulders and his abdomen like a cloak. 

Charles fussed over Michael as Daniel set up his equipment nearby, in the fresh green grass. He had a tripod and a few different cameras and lenses, but there was just one light diffuser, so Michael presumed he was just going to work mostly with natural lighting. Which was fine, Daniel seemed pretty good at working with natural light, if that photo of Michael he’d taken was anything to go by.

Michael really was obsessed with that photograph.

He was handed a pair of short black tights as he took off his clothes. He put them on and Charles started fussing over him again, wrapping the cloak around him and tucking it in so it hung elegantly down Michael’s body.

“Did you make this?” Michael asked Charles as he noticed the meticulously kept hems of the cloth.

“Yeah, but it was to Daniel’s idea. It’s according to his image of Cupid, anyway.”

“It’s very cool,” Michael told him. “You’re very talented.”

Charles looked Michael up and down just like Daniel liked to do, then gave a contented smile, like he approved of this version of Cupid. He waved at Daniel to come over, saying, “Dan, come and see if you like this.”

Daniel stood in front of Michael, staring at him with a gaze so ardent that Michael wondered if it was directed at him or at the outfit.

“Hmm,” he said again. 

“So,” Charles said, with his typical flourish, calling for their full attention. “Because I’m not a heathen, I brought two outfits.”

Daniel rolled his eyes like he’d already anticipated this. Charles got out another cloth in a creamier white, a skimpier material than the one Michael had on. It was sewn together at various parts so it looked naturally wavy. Charles demonstrated how it was supposed to go on – just wrapped around the waist, the flowy fabric hanging halfway down Michael’s thigh. There was no...upper body part to it.

“That’s just underwear, Charles,” Michael said.

“Everyone needs to see those thighs,” was Charles’s response.

Michael laughed. “Not sure about that.”

“Try it on,” Daniel urged.

Michael couldn’t even reject that suggestion when it came from Daniel.

Charles unwrapped the longer material from around Michael so that Michael could see how the new one looked like on him. Michael felt Daniel’s gaze intensely fixed on him as he changed – his gaze intensely fixed on the big, long scar on Michael’s left leg that was briefly exposed before Michael attempted to cover it with the cream-coloured fabric. He was rather unsuccessful, because the fabric was too short, so he turned the other way.

Daniel’s eyes returned to Michael’s face. Michael half expected him to bring up the scar, but the look on Michael’s face must’ve been telling, because Daniel didn’t say a word about it. 

Michael didn’t think he wanted to talk about it, either.

“I think this one looks better,” Daniel finally said. He stepped forward, folding and tucking the bottom of the material further so it looked more natural. His hand gently grazed Michael’s scar, and Michael felt his breath catch in his throat at the softness of Daniel’s touch.

“You think?” Charles beamed, completely oblivious to the little silent conversation Michael and Daniel were having. “I think he looks very Cupid-y.”

“Yup,” Daniel agreed. “Thanks, Charlie. This way we can also see the greaves better.”

Charles handed Michael a pair of brown tie-up sandals and waited for him to put them on before adding a pair of greaves. They were made out of thick brown plastic, but spray painted and stenciled to look like they had carvings on them. 

“Daniel made these,” he said.

It certainly looked like Daniel’s hand – sharp, detailed, and yet so purposefully haphazard that Michael had slight trouble believing it wasn’t really from the time of the ancient greeks. 

“You look amazing,” Daniel said, his voice soft.

Charles seemed to take that as a sign to back off, so he wandered over to where Daniel had set up his camera. Daniel led Michael to the high wooden stool he’d set up, in the midst of a particularly tall and brown grassy area, with the stream running across behind him. He pushed at Michael’s shoulders until Michael sat down on the stool.

“Just relax, okay? I’m gonna take some test shots,” Daniel said. giving Michael a little smile before leaving to stand by his camera.

Michael just sat there, one foot propped up on the footrest of the stool, not entirely sure what to do with his body or his face.

“Charles,” Daniel called to his friend, who’d wandered away again to pack up his own supplies. “Could you come here for a moment?”

“What’s the problem?” Charles asked as he came back.

“I want him to be framed by the tall grass, but it’s all brown and he doesn’t stand out. It’s like he’s camouflaged.”

“Maybe try a different angle,” Charles said, taking a few steps to his right. “Catch the sunlight on him.”

Daniel tried that, and ended up with a better angle, so Michael turned to face him. He took a few more test shots and Charles and Daniel stood over the camera looking at the new images. 

What they talked about next Michael couldn’t really hear, but just watching the two of them discussing excitedly made Michael wish he’d had the chance to be this passionate about something. To pursue it in university. Michael would probably already have gotten his degree. 

He didn’t notice Charles getting closer until he was right next to Michael with what looked like a cosmetics bag. He got out a brush and a compact with a dark shade of brown.

“Is that makeup?” Michael asked.

“Just to make you stand out like the star you are,” Charles said.

Michael sat patiently as Charles contoured his shoulders and put some light blush on his cheeks. He then brought out another compact with really fine glitter powder and proceeded to apply that on Michael’s shoulders. 

“Is that glitter?” Michael asked. He sounded like an absolute idiot.

“You just have to trust me. It’ll catch the sun, and you’ll look amazing.”

Michael narrowed his eyes, but he had no other choice but to go with it. He gave himself a silent pat on the back for not batting an eye when Charles sprinkled some glitter in his hair.

He heaved a sigh of relief when Charles was finally done dolling him up. He gave Michael’s biceps a squeeze, his expression excited like he’d been waiting to do that for some time, then walked back to where Daniel was standing. Michael heard him say, “Now he looks like a Greek god.”

“It’s much better now,” Daniel said, looking into his viewfinder. “Okay, we’ll try some shots here, then we can move to a different background.”

“Wait!” Charles yelled, and the two of them watched as he ran all the way to the car and opened the boot, pulling out – an entire archery bow, painted with brown and gold. “We forgot this.”

“Should I ask why you have a random bow just hanging around?” Daniel called.

“No,” Charles said, then more softly to Michael, “It’s just from the archery guys. I’m not like a secret assassin or whatever.”

Michael smiled at him. At least with the bow, he now knew what to do with his hands.

“Okay, strike a pose,” Daniel said once Charles was out of frame, but when Michael was just confused, proceeded to strike a really ridiculous pose behind his camera, making Michael laugh.

He heard the camera clicking away as he tried to compose himself. Daniel was bent over it now, trying to take some candid shots of Michael.

“How do I pose?” Michael shouted across the distance between them.

“Maybe stare into the distance thoughtfully,” Charles suggested; he was sitting in a little foldable chair, like he was the director of a movie. 

Daniel looked at Charles for a while, then shrugged at Michael. “Yeah, try that.”

“And you thought you didn’t need me,” Charles reminded, sneering over at him.

Daniel gave Michael a ‘can you believe him?’ stare.

The two of them just made Michael feel so...comfortable in his own skin.

Daniel made him get some shots sitting down, then came over and removed the stool so Michael could stand among the tall grass. He then brought Michael and all his equipment nearer to the fresher, greener grass close to the stream, and set everything up there again. Charles followed behind them, fussing over Michael again, rearranging his outfit and wiping his brow.

“I could get used to this,” Michael joked.

“Daniel would do it every day for free if you let him,” Charles remarked.

His voice was quiet, but it made Daniel turn so fast, Michael was afraid he might have whiplash. Daniel had the most terrified look in his eyes, which only intensified when Michael looked at him. He gave Michael a timid smile, a hint of a blush high on his cheeks.

“So where’d you get these guns?” Charles asked Michael, squeezing his biceps again.

“At the Sunday market,” Michael said. He heard Daniel burst into laughter, the sound as soothing as the flowing water of the stream behind them. And Daniel – his curls glowed golden under the sunshine, his tan skin glistening with just the slightest sheen of sweat. Michael wished he could take a photo of Daniel in this light, just for memory’s sake. “I like to go to the gym,” he told Charles.

“Cool,” Charles said. He backed off when Daniel waved him away, ready for the next set of photographs. He gave Michael two thumbs up. “You’re doing great!”

Charles’s occasional yells of encouragement from his little director’s chair, accompanied by Daniel’s stunning smile, made the whole session flow so much more smoothly for Michael than he’d anticipated when they first stepped into this meadow.

“This green grass works much better,” Daniel said. His camera was set up much nearer to Michael in this setting. Michael thought he was talking to Charles, but he saw that Daniel was looking right at him as he spoke. “I mean, I thought I had something with the grass framing you, but this looks a lot brighter. I don’t know what I can get out of the previous photos yet, but we really have something to work with.”

Michael watched his lips move as he spoke.

“Michael,” he said, when Michael didn’t respond. Michael couldn’t respond. He suddenly found himself frozen by how...breathtaking Daniel was. “Hey. I think – you look really nice.”

Michael brought himself to smile. “Thanks,” he whispered.

He really could get used to this. To Daniel being around. To Daniel’s alluring smile and his calming presence. 

To Daniel.

But Michael could never give him enough to deserve what Daniel could give him in return.

So he shook it off, and let Daniel lead him even closer to the stream, where there was a big rock he could sit on, to Daniel’s delight. He did wave Charles over, though and told him to ‘do something with those biceps, please,’ which Charles did gladly.

“We’re sure this doesn’t make me look like that Twilight guy, right?” Michael asked as Charles got his glitter out again.

“Please,” Charles scoffed. “You’re way hotter.”

“You are,” Daniel remarked as he changed his camera lens.

Michael was beginning to feel more comfortable, a feeling which was greatly aided by Daniel’s encouraging nods, so he just...let the meadow swallow him whole, let himself float through the motions naturally.

The sun was almost setting when Daniel came up to him with Michael’s clothes and a black bomber jacket. Michael had so thoroughly lost track of time, he hadn’t even noticed the day had ended.

“Here, you must be freezing,” Daniel said.

Michael hadn’t noticed that, either. But he slid the jacket on; it was a little tight on his shoulders, so he assumed it was Daniel’s. It...smelled like Daniel, anyway. 

Charles was the most energetic of the three of them as they climbed back into the car with all the equipment. He whistled a little tune as they drove back into town, Daniel and Michael each pressed against their own back windows. Michael watched the last of the sun’s rays filter through the tall grass that eventually gave way to more suburban houses and industrial buildings, until finally all that was left of the golden light were the long shadows casted by the taller buildings in the center of town.

“Are you tired? We can do this part another day if you want,” Daniel told Michael.

Michael shook his head. He liked being useful, if he were to be honest. And the day had been great, so Michael didn’t want it to end so soon. He didn’t know when he’d get another day like this.

Charles helped them carry all of Daniel’s things up to his apartment. Daniel offered him some dinner, but he said he was meeting with Max, so they let him go.

“Thanks for helping out,” Michael said to him. Somehow, Daniel’s project now felt like it was theirs.

Charles beamed at him, a little shining light in the dark hallway outside Daniel’s front door. “It’s no problem. I had a lot of fun,” he said, then left with a wave.

Daniel was standing in front of his open fridge. “It’s good that he left. I don’t think he’d approve of anything in here.”

Michael smiled. “I’m good with anything.”

They ended up eating reheated burritos on Daniel’s couch. Daniel’s housemates were out somewhere, so it was just two of them in the quiet apartment. Michael didn’t shrug off Daniel’s jacket until it was time for them to start shooting again, finding himself so...comfortable being enveloped in Daniel’s scent.

There was no specific outfit for the set, just Michael shirtless, in his jeans. Michael felt more at ease that he didn’t have to consciously bare his scar for Daniel to see.

Daniel’s room was a decent size, though his bed and workspace only occupied about half of it. The walls above his bed and work table were covered with polaroid photos, magazine cutouts, and various art posters, everything laid out in the most organised mess Michael had ever seen. The remaining area appeared to be some sort of art space, with some paint supplies pushed to the corner and a big white screen set up next to a tall studio light. He brought in a chair and placed it in the middle of the area so that Michael could sit down.

“I’m going to go really close on these shots,” Daniel explained. “So, just some highlights of...of your body. Of you.”

Daniel’s voice was soft as he said that. Michael offered him another smile. “I’m alright with that.”

“Just let me know if you feel uncomfortable, okay?”

Daniel turned off all the lights and closed the door. He pulled the blinds shut to block out the lights from the street. Then he turned on the studio light and adjusted it until he got the shadows he wanted.

Michael tried his best not to move as Daniel circled him, his camera held to his eye. He felt the heat of Daniel’s body as he stepped close; he heard the click of the camera next to his ear. The little whisper of Daniel’s breaths. The shuffle of his feet as he moved. He could hear Daniel’s lips moving as he mouthed words to himself, words that Michael couldn’t make out. The stand of the studio light scraped lightly against the floor as Daniel occasionally moved it around.

It was so quiet, Michael could hear his own heart beating. 

He closed his eyes and revelled in the simple sounds.

The heat from Daniel’s movements travelled downwards towards Michael’s arms and his abdomen, where Daniel lingered for a while, circling Michael again.

“You okay?” Daniel’s voice was suddenly right in Michael’s left ear, his breath warm on his lips.

Michael opened his eyes again. Daniel was crouched over next to him, concern in his eyes. His big, puppy-like eyes, which themselves were already the brownest brown Michael had ever seen, but under this lighting, just...the most exquisite gold. His lips were full and perfectly shaped, and a dark red like the colour of blood.

Michael nodded, speechless.

“I’m almost done,” Daniel whispered. “Could you close your eyes again?”

His fingers were soft on Michael’s forehead as he swept Michael’s hair aside. Michael held his breath until he heard the camera stop clicking.

“So…” Daniel was saying sheepishly when Michael dared to open his eyes again. “I’m thinking it would be good to get some close-ups of the outfit you had on? But if it’s too troublesome for you to put it on again, then it’s fine, I’ll just take photos of them later. I just thought maybe it’ll be nice to have some indication of skin.”

“I’ll put them on,” Michael offered immediately.

Daniel only photographed close-ups of the fabric at Michael’s thigh and the greaves, so it took no more than ten minutes.

Charles had left some makeup remover behind, so Daniel helped Michael wipe off his shoulders and arms with a towel. He didn’t turn the lights back on for some reason, just cleaned Michael silently under the sole studio light, like he thought they would be more comfortable like this, without really seeing each other’s faces. It was...comfortably intimate.

Daniel insisted on walking Michael to the bus station at the end of the street, despite Michael telling him he’d be fine. He put on the bomber jacket that Michael had on earlier, and walked next to Michael down the quiet street.

“Thanks for everything,” he said. “You must be really tired.”

“I literally just sat around all day,” Michael pointed out, making him laugh. “I hope the photos come out good.”

“I think they will,” Daniel smiled, his gaze meeting Michael’s. “Sorry if it was really weird and everything. You know, with you being naked and...Greek, all day. Just...thank you for doing this for me."

“Thanks for choosing me, Dan. I really had fun,” Michael assured him. "Really."

“I don’t think there’s anyone else more suited for it than you are.”

"Thanks, anyway. It's nice to be...wanted for something."

"You really are suited for it, you know?" Daniel said. "You're like...a piece of art."

Michael smiled. When Daniel said these kinds of things to him, in that soft, soft voice of his, Michael just. 

"You don't have to flirt with me anymore. The job's done."

Something in Daniel's eyes made Michael realise that he really wasn't just flirting with Michael to get him to do the job. 

They didn’t have to wait long for the bus. It was late, so Michael was only the second person on it.

As it pulled away from the bus station, Daniel was still sitting on the bench, smiling fondly at Michael. 

------

Michael made it a habit to end his walks with Milo on the coffee shop side of the street, just so he could see Daniel get all flustered and excited while he was serving coffee to actual customers.

Just being around Daniel gave Michael the ability to smile the most genuine smiles he’d ever remembered himself giving.

Daniel was waiting by the door one morning for Michael, holding his usual coffee and sandwich. Michael didn’t have Milo with him, but the smile on Daniel’s face upon seeing him was equally bright.

“Hey, are you free tonight?” he asked. “I haven’t really thanked you for being my model. Let’s go out for dinner? I’m working two shifts today, until dinnertime.”

Michael laughed at the thought. “You really don’t have to thank me, Dan.”

“But I want to,” Daniel said earnestly. “Dinner? My treat. Whatever you want.”

“Okay,” Michael agreed. Daniel was just so fucking compelling.

Michael had an appointment after that, but he took the rest of the day off, planning to catch up on some studying before his upcoming exams. The workload for his online classes wasn’t too high, but Michael had the habit of cramming at the last minute, which gave him unnecessary stress.

He decided to have lunch at the coffee shop, laziness taking over when he opened his refrigerator to look for something to cook. And even besides that laziness – Michael thought that maybe, just maybe, it would be nice to have Daniel around while he studied, like quiet motivation. Daniel didn’t have to know that, of course. Not ever.

Daniel was handling the takeaway lunch crowd pretty well, but appeared surprised when he saw Michael was the next in queue.

“You didn’t have to queue,” he said. “Just come right up.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m a fair guy.”

Daniel scoffed. “What can I get you?”

“Anything good for lunch?”

“I’ll get you something. Give me a minute.”

“I’ll sit down,” Michael gestured to the book bag on his shoulder. “I have some studying to do.”

Michael picked a little round table near the window, though he sat with his back towards the glass, so...well, so he could see Daniel working behind the counter. 

Daniel brought him a spinach quiche and a banana oatmeal smoothie. It was just to Michael's liking. He opened his laptop and some textbooks he'd gotten from the library, and got to work. 

The table was small and the gusts of air from the door next to Michael kept blowing at his pages as people walked in and out, but as the day passed and Daniel remained a pleasing sight right in front of Michael, going about with his business with the friendliest smile on his face – Michael knew that he would rather be here than at home with all the space in the world to sprawl out and study. 

His study materials soon became mere ornaments as Michael decided that he would just watch Daniel. Michael had tried too hard for the whole day trying to convince himself that he was there to study. He was there to watch Daniel. That was just it. 

Daniel had such an...open demeanor. He greeted everyone with the most genuine smile, and struck up a conversation with anyone who waited long enough for their order. Regulars were like his own friends, and he made sure to remember to ask about their current affairs. He moved around so naturally in the small space behind the counter, almost like he was putting on a little dance performance. His hands were – they were artist's hands, and they moved like magic. Michael couldn't even begin to describe it, but everything Daniel touched seemed to conform to whatever Daniel willed it to be. 

Michael wondered how it would feel like to be caressed by them. 

He'd gotten a taste of that when Daniel cleaned the makeup off him the other day, but Michael found his mind wandering to some other places those hands could possibly land on. 

"Hey," Daniel's voice was soft, and Michael blinked out of his daydream to see him standing across the table, a bagel in hand for his afternoon break. "Will I be interrupting anything?"

Michael shook his head and gestured for him to sit down. 

He watched Daniel's lips as he chewed on the bagel, not saying a word, as if he thought he'd be disturbing Michael. His lips looked so perfect, like they'd been drawn right on his face, specially designed for him. They curled nicely at the sides and his bottom lip dimpled in the middle. His eyes scanned the papers on the table, briefly reading Michael's notes on his first exam on philosophy and the other one a week later on business models. It was a mishmash of courses, but Michael justified that by not making up his mind on a path just yet. 

Michael wondered if he'd always found Daniel this attractive and had only just begun to let himself embrace it. If he was asked, he couldn't pick a moment in which he'd first started to crave Daniel's...everything. 

But now he knew that if Daniel asked for it, Michael would give him everything. 

The thought scared Michael, and he blinked a few times again. Now that Daniel was sitting there, Michael had to at least pretend to study, so he flipped mindlessly through one of the textbooks. Daniel just peered over curiously until his break was over and he returned to the front counter. 

Michael just watched him for the rest of the day. It had stopped feeling so strange, though Michael was definitely more used to Daniel blatantly watching him rather than it being this way around. 

He saw Daniel clock out at about six in the evening, then disappear into the break room. He reappeared in the same clothes he'd been wearing under his apron all day, a white t-shirt with a bright colourful print on the front, and some ripped black jeans. He went with Michael across the road to deposit his books back in his room.

“What do you feel like eating?” he asked.

“Hmm,” Michael said. “I’m feeling some Greek.”

Daniel burst into laughter, keeling over and holding his stomach. “Really? Wait, are you being serious or is this just a joke?”

“I wouldn’t mind some Greek food, really.”

“Okay,” Daniel giggled, taking out his phone to look for Greek restaurants nearby. Michael was honestly fine with any one of them, but Daniel made him pick one.

Michael spent the whole evening watching Daniel’s hands and wishing he was the pita bread that Daniel’s fingers were so gently wrecking into pieces.

------

Together with the classic baroque painting, the mural was one of the biggest parts of Daniel’s project, so he spent more time designing and drafting it out than he actually planned on painting it. Besides, it was an outdoor project, and if the weather had warmed up nicely whenever he was done with his drafts, then it was all going to work out perfectly. 

Daniel had helped Michael sign up his project for summer course credits, so at least he was going to actually get something out of it to his name. Michael started working more on his sculpture in between his appointments. He still wouldn’t let Daniel see what it was, though, and he’d begun building a little barrier around his space so Daniel wouldn’t be able to peek. Daniel didn’t really mind. It was nice that they had this little joke going on between them.

Besides, Daniel understood what it was like to make an art piece for the first time and not be ready to show it to anyone until it was fully believed to be ready. 

He was just honoured that Michael let him be part of his journey.

Daniel spent most days sectioning out blueprints for his baroque painting and mural, moving from one to the other whenever he started feeling burnt out, since the two were complete opposite styles. The canvas for the baroque painting had already been mounted up in the studio – it was a series of nine cloth canvases put together to form one big canvas, to facilitate the movement of the painting from location to location – and it stood about a foot taller than Daniel and a little longer in length. Daniel was pretty excited to see what he could do with such a big space. He sketched and labeled each element on their respective parts on the canvas, with Aphrodite in the middle, towering over everything else.

“The weather’s getting pretty good,” Michael remarked from his little corner.

Daniel turned around and Michael was out of his stool, standing next to the plant Max and Charles had given Daniel and watering it out of a little paint tin of water. So much for promising Max and Charles that he’d take care of it – the plant had almost completely fallen under Michael’s loyal care.

“It is,” Daniel agreed. The afternoon sun was casting long slices of light through the windows. 

“Do you want to start on your mural soon? Will you have time if you keep putting it off?”

Daniel put down the 8B pencil he was holding and pulled up the email stating the approval for him to paint the alleyway. “Yeah, I just have to drop them an email about when I’m starting.”

“I’d love to help,” Michael said, wandering over and standing behind Daniel. 

“Really?” Daniel asked. “Nah, you’ve got enough on your hands as it is. I’ve already extended into summer school at least, so I have more time.”

“I’d still love to help.”

So Daniel let him tag along when he brought his supplies to the alleyway. His advisor had organized for him to display his work in one of the exhibition galleries in the art department as part of his final grading, and she had gotten approval to have Daniel paint on the back of their building as a part of the story he was trying to tell; it had taken a couple of months, so Daniel’s dragged out planning turned out to work out with the weather and the gallery’s approval.

The wall was concrete, which made it easy to paint over without too much priming. Daniel got a vendor to set up a little tent at the dead end so he could keep his supplies safe from the changing weather without having to carry them around. Michael helped to tape plastic sheets over the sparse windows lining the building as Daniel unloaded all the spray paint and paint tins.

"We can start tomorrow, if the weather's good," Daniel told him, bringing a paintbrush and some spray paint to where Michael was, next to the wall. "But let's leave some paint so we can see how it dries overnight."

Michael was quiet as Daniel swabbed some green paint and blue spray paint on the concrete, but then he said, "It's so nice how you really know what you're doing."

Daniel smiled. "I don't always," he said. "We all have things to figure out. Just makes it easier if we like them."

Michael was quiet for the rest of the day, making Daniel realise he really didn't know Michael that well beneath the surface. 

*

The weather turned out to be really good the next day, so Daniel texted Michael to meet him at the alley if he could. Michael informed him that he'd cleared all his appointments just so he could hear Daniel tell him that. 

It made Daniel smile. 

He examined the little swatches of paint he'd left overnight; the green had dried a little darker, but the more oil-based spray paint held its brightness. Daniel made sure to take note of the nuances of the different types of paint. Michael arrived about ten minutes after him, holding two iced coffees and a doggy bag. 

He had on a pair of round sunglasses, an oversized black shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and dark grey sweatpants, and he looked so...hot. 

"Courtesy of Oliver," he told Daniel with a cheeky grin, handing him the doggy bag. Inside were two blueberry muffins. 

Daniel rolled his eyes, but took the bag anyway. He didn't so much let his fingers brush over Michael's – in fact, Daniel realised that for all the time he'd been crushing on Michael, he hadn't once actually made the first physical move, like he'd done when he and Max were nearly a thing. 

God, Daniel had done so much fucking flirting with Max.

But around Michael, Daniel just found himself so...careful. 

As though if he and Michael were to become a thing, Daniel was sure that it wouldn't simply just be a fling, or a physical thing, but so much more. 

Daniel could laugh. He really didn't know that much about Michael at all, but still found himself thinking that way. 

He attributed everything to the fact that Max had given him a reason to be so bold by very blatantly liking him from the very start, and Michael hadn't shown any such signs. He tried to push all these thoughts to the back of his mind for the day. 

Daniel started outlining the different parts of his mural on the brick wall, in a shade of dark grey only slightly darker than that of the concrete. He used a pencil to make little notes – where the grains were mixed and multicoloured, and where they were organised in little piles by the insects. He knew he was going to have to retouch them once the background colour was up, but it was nice knowing the scale of everything he had to do first.

Michael was chewing on a muffin while trying to catch up with Daniel, a paintbrush in his hand as he referred to the blueprints Daniel had printed out on a large A0-size paper. 

“How’s studying coming along?” Daniel asked.

“It’s alright,” Michael said with his mouth full. “My first exam’s this Friday, then my business one is next Thursday.”

“Good luck with them. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“I’d just like to pass,” Michael said, putting the muffin liner aside and wiping his hands on his sweatpants. “Over these last few months I think I’ve realised what I really want to do. You know, besides just online classes.”

“And what’s that?”

"I'm thinking how I'm this close to starting uni for an art degree, now that I know so much.”

"What degree do you hold now?" Daniel asked. 

"Never got one," Michael avoided Daniel's gaze as he said. "Would love to."

He seemed quiet after that, which made Daniel wonder if he'd overstepped some sort of line. 

"Hey," Daniel said, just to attempt to lighten the mood. "Did you move here from Australia by any chance?"

Michael appeared surprised at that question, like he hadn't expected to be asked that by anyone. "Yeah, I moved here when I was a kid. How'd you tell?"

"You have just the slightest accent. And I'm offended you never brought it up."

Michael smiled. "It's just been so long since I've been in Australia."

"Whereabouts are you from?"

"Near Melbourne. My dad was Australian."

“Cool,” Daniel said. “I’m from Perth.”

“Do you miss it?”

“A little, sometimes,” Daniel gestured to the wall in front of them. “This will take me right back.”

Michael’s smile was a little sad this time. “I don’t...remember much of it. I was about ten years old. When we moved.”

“Why’d you move?”

Michael was quiet for a really long while again, making Daniel wonder if he should’ve checked himself before asking so much. He finally brought himself to turn to Michael, and Michael was. 

Michael was already looking at him, his eyes glazed over by this mixture of sadness and worry, like he wasn’t sure if Daniel was...ready to hear what he had to say. He took a deep breath. Daniel gave him a small encouraging smile.

“Dad died,” he whispered. “My mom, she...she brought me here.”

“I’m sorry,” Daniel said. Michael’s gaze and his words, they seemed to falter when he mentioned his mother. “I hope that everything’s okay.”

Michael turned back to the wall and put his sunglasses back on, as if he physically could not look at Daniel while he spoke. “She lives out of town,” he said, quickly, curtly. “I’m not...in contact with her.”

“Sorry. I’m probably asking too much.”

“It’s alright,” Michael smiled. He waved his hand at the space between them, though he still didn’t turn to Daniel. “You’re a great friend. I’ve never...had a friend like you.”

Daniel wanted to ask what he meant by ‘like you,’ but decided not to.

“So are you really planning on going to art school?” he asked instead.

“I’ll have to see,” Michael said. “About...money and stuff.”

“Couldn’t your mom help you?”

It was apparently the wrong question to ask, because Michael put the paintbrush down and took another deep breath. He was sitting cross-legged on the ground, and Daniel saw his hands start to tremble before he shoved them between his calves.

His voice wobbled as he said, “Sorry, I –”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Daniel said softly. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“No, I…” Michael sighed. He got on his knees and crawled a little closer to Daniel, his eyes examining Daniel’s face as if he was trying to see if he could trust Daniel with whatever he was going to say. "I haven't spoken about it for a really long time."

"Okay. You don't have to tell me."

"It's just that I'm always scared of what people will think of me, you know?"

"You don't have to worry about that," Daniel smiled. He saw Michael start to relax, if not only the slightest. "You know that I could never think anything bad about you."

"Yeah?" Michael finally smiled. 

"Yeah," Daniel said. "You...I've known you quite some time. And I've met worse."

Michael dipped his head in what seemed like a slight nod. He didn’t say anything, though his silence sounded...thoughtful.

"It's alright," Daniel whispered, reaching over to squeeze Michael's wrist. There was a long silence, and Daniel had turned back to his grey paint when Michael started speaking again. 

"My mom's never liked me too much," he said, his voice timid, but gaining traction,  like he just couldn't help but spill everything to Daniel. Like he'd been waiting for an opportunity like this. "I don't think she'd ever wanted any kids. But my dad loved me very much. I was always closer to him. He died when we got into an accident while he was driving me back from a trip to the beach."

Daniel's eyes strayed to Michael's thigh, where he knew under the grey fabric of his pants lay the longest scar Daniel had ever seen. 

Michael shook his head, almost like he could hear what Daniel was thinking. 

"She wasn't really nice to me even before dad died," he continued. "But after he did, it just...got so much worse. I think she's always blamed me for it. She – she hit me every day. Whenever she thought I did something wrong. If I closed the door too hard, or if I was late home from school for five minutes. In the morning, I had to be up before she was. I had to clean. And I don’t mean clean like you give your kids some chores. I was just her house help. I wasn't allowed to play with my friends. I wasn't allowed to have any friends. I was just – I was trapped at home every day. It was like hell. 

"A couple years after dad was gone, she brought me here. It's where she grew up. We moved into this big two-storey house, so there was more for me to clean," Michael laughed, but Daniel heard it get caught in his throat. "I did secondary school here. I avoided her whenever I could. But my grades were never up to her standards. And even if I tried my best for every test, she'd find a reason to get mad. I was told that I was useless, that I wouldn’t get anywhere, every single day. And if I did anything wrong, she’d threaten to throw me out. Sometimes I wished that she would. Just so I had a reason to leave. But she never did. She always kept me inside. It was like she got off on hurting me, so she had to keep me around.”

Daniel moved closer to Michael and pressed his knee against Michael's for support. Michael looked up to the sky, and even though his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, Daniel knew all too well the way Michael's throat moved as he swallowed hard. He was trying to hold his tears back.

Daniel wanted so badly to reach over and hold him. But Michael looked down into his lap again, focusing on his hands, so Daniel held back.

"I eventually accepted that no matter what I did, she'd twist it so she could justify why she was hurting me. So I just...gave up. I went to school only so I wouldn't have to be at home with her. And I got really, really into Greek mythology as an escape. Just that world, an entire new world to me, it was...so fascinating. I learned a little bit about it in school, but I would spend every spare second I could reading more about it. Like, the god of this and that, right? I wished there was a god to take me away from that mess."

Michael suddenly stopped talking to wipe his nose, making Daniel realise he was crying. Daniel moved even closer and ran his thumb over Michael’s cheek – a move so intimate, even for Daniel’s intentions, that he was briefly worried he would scare Michael away. But Michael didn’t shake it off.

“I had bruises all over my body, always,” Michael whispered. “Bruises and cuts. They were always there. I’d forgotten how my skin looked. But she was smart enough to never do it in places people could see. On my back, my shoulders. All over my chest and abdomen. I used to draw all over myself, with a marker, to hide the bruises, because I was so tired of them. Especially when they peeked out from under my sleeves or gym shorts."

“Is that why you became a tattoo artist?” Daniel asked.

Michael mustered a gentle smile through his tears. “Partly, yeah. But I vowed that I would never hurt myself intentionally, like...like my mom used to. So I don’t have any. Tattoos.”

Daniel nodded.

“But I’m willing to hurt other people while giving them tattoos, so that’s actually kind of fucked up, isn’t it?” Michael gave a little chuckle.

Daniel was just glad to hear that sound. And he’d sincerely been thinking of making that joke, if Michael hadn’t made it, except that he was afraid he would just be making light of this situation. But the thought made Daniel smile.

“You do your best not to,” Daniel told him. He gave Michael’s wrist another squeeze. “Tell me how you got out of there,” he suggested, thinking that maybe talking about that would make Michael less sad.

“It was after my GCSEs. We had a fight, as usual, but this time I fought back. I told her I was getting out of there as soon as I could. That was all I said. I said ‘I’m leaving as soon as I’m old enough.’ And it set her off. She – she pushed me down the stairs at our house, and I – I broke my leg. Shattered my entire leg.”

Daniel had thought endlessly about that scar on Michael’s thigh in the days following their photoshoot. He knew now, what it meant and why it must have elicited that response in Michael, and at the time when Michael had tried to hide it instinctively, pleading without words to never bring it up, it now made sense. It must have pained Michael to admit that the one person that should have loved him with no reservation and no condition hated him like that.

Daniel’s eyes drifted to Michael’s thigh once again. This time, Michael nodded.

“I worried she wouldn’t pay my hospital bills. But she did. I thought she was only paying to fix me so she could break me again.

“I got out of there as soon as I could walk again. I was seventeen. Made my way here, to the city. I had to live in a shelter for a year because I had no money, but I got my first job as an apprentice at a different tattoo studio. Then I started having my own clients, and eventually I met my current boss through some connections. We have a few outlets across the city, and I worked for a couple years at one at the west end, but when I ran into problems paying rent at my old apartment, he offered me a room above the main outlet. So I moved here.”

Daniel nodded again. It explained why he hadn’t met Michael the previous times he’d gone there to get tatted.

"I don't know how anyone could hear that story and think that you were the one at fault," Daniel said. “Or why you’re afraid what they’ll think of you.”

Michael shrugged. "People...when I start to tell them, even a little, they start to pity me. Start giving me handouts. I don't – I don't want anyone to pity me. I can stand on my own two feet. My boss, he’s one of the only people who doesn’t pity me like that. He let me rent his room for money and labour, not because he thought I needed something from him. So over time, I’ve just...I’ve stopped telling people.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Daniel said softly.

“I hope it doesn’t...change anything between us.”

“Don’t be silly,” Daniel smiled. “We’ve been friends before this. Nothing will change that. Especially not something that wasn’t your fault. Something so...cruel.”

“Dan,” Michael said. His voice was soft, yet firm. “You know you’re...you’re my first real friend in years?”

“Yeah?”

Michael nodded. “I just...you just let me into your life so easily.”

“You’re an easy person to be friends with. And you know that I’m not friends with you just because I pity you. ‘Cause I literally didn’t know until right now.”

A smile appeared on Michael’s face. He had a smattering of pink across his nose now, and Daniel adored it.  

“It’s just...hard.”

“I can imagine. Carrying that around every day.”

Michael shrugged. He took off his sunglasses as the shadow of the buildings grew over them.

“You know, I read once in some book that a man’s heart is a wretched thing? How it isn’t like a mother’s womb that will bleed for you. That a man’s heart won’t stretch to make room for you,” Michael looked up at the mural again, as if he found it hard to form eye contact as he said this. A humourless laugh escaped him. “My mother may have bled to birth me, but only in sorrow. And I’m afraid that if her heart couldn’t make room for me, what will I ever be able to hold for anyone in my heart?”

Daniel just wanted so badly to hold him.

As he watched Michael wet the paintbrush again and continue where he’d left off on the wall, his arms straining as he reached higher, his hair gleaming almost golden under the sunshine and his bare arms shimmering with a layer of sweat – he realised how Michael was really so much more beautiful than Daniel had ever thought.

To have gone through so much, and still be here fighting every day of his life, wanting to do better, to be better.

Michael may not have known how to love, but Daniel.

Daniel did, and Daniel knew he might love one person, and that person was Michael.

“You’re going to find someone who loves you, Michael,” he whispered.

Michael’s eyes had been hidden under his sunglasses all day, so when they met Daniel’s, Daniel was taken aback by the familiarity they provided him with. 

"I don't think I've ever loved someone," Michael said. "I don't think I could. And even if I did –" Michael paused to let his eyes run over Daniel's entire body, up and down and up again, making Daniel's skin tingle with the intensity of his gaze. Daniel willed himself not to let his mind wander too far into his fantasies. "– I don't think I'd ever be able to convince myself that I deserve to be loved."

"You do," Daniel whispered. "We all do. We just have to find the right person to love us."

"Maybe I just…" Michael shrugged. "I won't find them. I won't let myself find them."

Daniel wanted so badly to tell him he was wrong. 

"I've just never even managed to convince myself that I deserve something good, you know?" Michael continued. "And if I can't do that for myself, then...who else could do that for me? So...every time something nice comes into my life, I end up pushing it away. Sometimes I don't want to. But...I do. I'm so afraid of hurting someone. I'm so afraid that they'll discover that I'm not worth it at all."

Daniel didn't know what to say. He didn't know where to start. He had so many fucking things to say to Michael. 

"Is this nice, then?" he asked, waving the paintbrush in his hand to gesture between the both of them. 

Michael smiled. He looked so completely, utterly beautiful under the midafternoon sunlight. 

"It's the only thing I've allowed myself," he whispered. "The only thing I will."

"Thank you for letting me be a part of it," Daniel said. “Michael. You know that...sometimes, it’s not up to you, right? It’s not up to you whether you deserve love. It’s up to the people who want to give it to you. The people around you, they decide whether you deserve it. It’s why they give it to you, why they love you. Because they’ve already decided that you’re worthy of it. I know – I know you may not think that way. But I just...it’s so important to me that you know that you are worthy of love.”

Michael gave him one last longing look, then turned back to the grey wall and picked up his paintbrush, starting to map out the blueprint again with the tiniest of smiles on his face. 

"You realise how amazing it is that we're both from the same place but you left so early, and then fate worked its fine hand and now we get to meet halfway across the world?"

Michael's smile turned into a full laugh. "Yeah, that's pretty amazing."

Daniel wanted to tell Michael he hoped he could be Michael's little slice of home, a little reminder of better times in Melbourne, but he wasn't sure if that would be treading too far. 

"I'd always thought you held some kind of art degree," Daniel said, grabbing a tin of dark green paint to start on some of the background. Michael watched his hands as they pried the lid open. "You work really well with your hands. And you have really great ideas. And you're...so organised and careful with everything you do. If you really do go to art school, I think you'd do great."

"You really think so?" Michael looked absolutely delighted that Daniel thought so highly of him. 

“Yeah,” Daniel reached over for Michael’s arm. It was...rock hard, muscular, under his fingers. “Michael. You know that we can’t change the past – not just you, we all can’t. So what matters is the future. You made one for yourself when you got out of there. And now, you’re going to continue doing that, ‘cause you can. The future’s the only thing you can change. So let’s...we’ll not care about the past anymore. Yeah?”

“I’m trying,” Michael whispered. He looked at Daniel like he was pleading again, pleading for Daniel to understand.

Daniel did. He knew now, every single day, how hard Michael was trying. “I know,” he said. “I really, really know.”

Michael smiled. Tears shimmered in his eyes again, but he moved quickly to wipe them away. “Thank you.”

“I should thank you,” Daniel squeezed Michael’s arm again. “I didn’t just let you in my life. You let me into your life, too. And that means a lot to me.”

“It means a lot to me that I could, too.”

Daniel chuckled, and Michael’s smile grew bigger, though his tears started spilling down his cheeks. Daniel wiped them away again, and just like previously, Michael didn’t recoil; instead, he just watched Daniel, and he seemed a little...breathless. 

The strength he had in him to allow himself to be so vulnerable in front of Daniel, the courage he held in order to be so trusting towards Daniel – it just amazed Daniel so much. 

They both returned silently to their portions of the mural, Michael sketching thick outlines and penciling in details as Daniel started streaking different shades of green for the background. The sun beat down on their backs for a while longer before disappearing behind the taller buildings, leaving them in a comfortable shade. The afternoon passed more like a picnic on a day out than actual work, with the both of them sipping on their iced coffees and chatting about nothing.

By the end of the day Daniel had the different shades he wanted for the background almost sorted out, each swabbed in their bright greens and blues and golds over large areas of the wall. Just a single layer was on, so the drafts in grey could still be seen through the paint; it needed a lot of retouching later on, but Daniel was satisfied with it. 

Michael looked equally pleased with it, standing next to Daniel as Daniel admired their day’s work from afar. He had little specks of grey paint all over the front of his shirt, which was just adorable.

“I think it’s gonna be great,” he told Daniel.

Daniel beamed at him. He hadn’t a sliver of a doubt that with Michael and his deft hands helping him, every single part of his project would turn out to be absolutely perfect.

------

Daniel was meant to meet up with Max on campus one afternoon and as he waited for Max to finish his classes for the day, Daniel himself worked on the mural. He had managed to add some detail to the insects dedicated to his football team.

They hadn’t seen each other as much since their talk at the very same spot Daniel was standing in, in front of the mural. Michael had some bookings to take care of, with the tattoo parlour getting more walk-ins now that it was warmer and tourists could be seen swarming every corner of the city. And Michael had his exams to study for at the same time.

Daniel tried to bring Michael a snack during his shift break whenever he was working at the coffee shop, only partly interested in feeding the taller man. It was more so Daniel could see him, see his bright smile that now always seemed to welcome Daniel’s arrival with relief in it. As if Michael would be getting a little break of his own. 

It made Daniel’s stomach knot. He hoped he wasn’t imagining it.

When Max finally texted that he was free, Daniel picked his things up and went to the front of the campus, meeting up with Max at the outer gates. They decided to walk instead of taking the bus on behalf of the good weather and to lament the loss of Daniel’s regular football.

Daniel loved how the entire city seemed brighter than it had all winter and their slightly sad version of spring. It made him think of home.

Daniel had offered for them to go to his place, but Max had all the equipment so his place was the logical choice. They went straight to Max’s room, where Max had the majority of his setup.

It was darkly lit, with LEDs in blue going over the bed frame and a central white light fixture hanging from the ceiling. The bedding was dark, but the lighter carpet made it all work. There were two screens set up at the desk in one corner with a gaming chair. Daniel couldn’t even comprehend what was plugged in under the desk. 

Max walked over to the organisers stacked against the farthest wall, which had drives and wires sticking out of it. Daniel had no idea what all the electronics were, but he could tell the neatly stuck labels from a label maker were entirely Charles’s work. Max pulled out a digital sketch pad that looked in much better condition than the ones Daniel had used in their Intro to Digital Art in their third semester. He handed it over to Daniel.

“You’re familiar with these, right?” Max asked, and when Daniel nodded he continued, ”Just give me an idea of what you would like, and then we can start working forward from there?”

“Alright.” Daniel had drawn up rough designs in watercolour and gouache on sheets of heavy sketch paper, so all he had to do was just copy those and colour them perfectly.

“I’ll go make us some tea, is that good with you?” Max asked.

Daniel nodded eagerly. “Yes, please.”

Max left him to it. Daniel settled on the floor with his legs crossed under him and his back against the only available space on one of the walls. It was a weird habit, but it worked best for him whenever he wanted to focus. 

Daniel was glad he’d laid out the blueprints for his plans beforehand, because with three projects in the works simultaneously and another to be started, he was running on pure steam at this point. He unfolded the sketches he’d drawn up for his mood board with pin marks in the corners, and smoothed them down. 

He began to draw the outlines in the first base layer, with two figures drawn and merged in the center like a finger painting that had been copied with the center of the page folded in on itself.

Max returned with two novelty mugs, placing one of them down on the floor next to Daniel. Daniel smiled at him gratefully. 

He turned back to the sketch pad, applying a second layer and filling the figures with a pale yellow that looked closer to cream, before adding strokes of ochre and mustard to the outsides. He then carefully blotched burnt rust and navy tie dye effects into the margins, adding a new layer each time.

Max sipped at his tea for a while. Daniel felt his gaze on him, watching him detail the effects of the watercolour strokes in the app. 

Daniel had sent Max his inspirations for the piece and how he wanted it as a part of his story, to represent Cupid and Psyche hooking up in the dark, so he wasn’t surprised when Max asked, “So this is supposed to have like, one night stand-ish vibes?”

“Yeah,” Daniel said. 

“I think it’ll really work, with the psychedelic effects you mentioned for me to put in.”

Daniel nodded. When he’d sent Max his ideas, he’d asked for them to be done in chrome. When the figures folded in on each other with the added animation, the symmetry and movement would elicit a kind of sensuality, and the vague shapes and blotches would add a sense of mystery – or so Daniel thought.

“So, speaking of sexy things,” Max said. “Charles told me the photoshoot was a success.”

Daniel looked up from the device in his hand. Max had a slight smirk on his face.

“Oh, c’mon,” Daniel rolled his eyes. “Charles is having too much of an influence on you.”

“I’m just saying,” Max held up his hands.

“Sure you are.”

But it did make his mind wander back to that photoshoot. Daniel had felt like his entire body was on a low flame burner the whole day when he had to act aloof and unaffected and completely professional. 

All he had wanted to do was feel the softness of Michael’s skin under his fingers. And if his shower that night had lasted too long, he pretended it hadn’t taken place.

And the studio. Daniel’s space in the art studio was now firmly theirs, and his most productive days came when Michael was sitting in his corner, quietly working on his sculpture, and watering Daniel’s plant or helping him mix paint.

“How are things with him though?” Max was looking at him with genuine concern, and it was like the floodgates had been opened.

“He’s… everything. He’s so perfect, and it’s amazing that we’ve got so much in common. I don’t have to make an effort when I’m around him. And he trusts me, Max,” Daniel remembered the painful realities Michael had told him he’d lived through in his life. Daniel’s voice faltered as he carried on. “But I don’t want to scare him away or make him think I’m only friends with him because I’m interested in him like that.”

Max nodded, taking time to process his thoughts before saying, “I feel like you should try asking him eventually if you feel like he’s into you, as well? It might just surprise you how much saying it out loud might matter despite all the actions in the world.”

Daniel failed to mention how he fell asleep to the thought of Michael and him finding their way to each other, how life had crossed their paths, and how the very real feelings he was starting to develop were beyond any crushes and infatuations he had experienced before. And how Michael’s thoughts on never wanting to find love could mean he may never let Daniel in.

Despite all that, Daniel nodded. “I really should take my chance. Thanks, Max. Seriously. For doing this, even though you have your own finals coming up. And for listening.”

“Of course,” Max shrugged casually. “I can use it in my repertoire when you’re one of the hottest artists in town.”

Daniel just smiled at him, and went back to apply blend mode on his layers. 

He could visualise what he wanted it to be, but going from a still abstract watercolour picture to digital motion art, which was a medium he had generally not dabbled in, Daniel didn’t know what the end product would be.

It took another half hour before Daniel held the screen away from himself one last time, satisfied. He handed the screen over to Max, who had busied himself with his computer while he waited for Daniel.

“Here. I hope this will work.”

Max looked at the screen and touched some settings before turning back to Daniel. “Yeah, I can make it work.”

Max went back to his computer and in no time at all the image Daniel had created appeared on the screen. Daniel sat down on the edge of Max’s bed, watching over his shoulder. Max kept typing and picking selections or adjustments Daniel only understood as long as it had to do with colours or the most basic computing.

Daniel found himself amazed. His own art was easily visible and understood, and so was Michael’s tattoo art, in its own right. And Charles always expressed his creativity in the outfits he wore and the pieces he made. But Daniel had never had the opportunity to see Max work. Daniel loved how he went into a little zone of his own until he started seeing the first signs of stop motion. 

Max kept asking for his input at each step until they were satisfied with the chromatic video with his painting spiraling into and back out on itself against a dark background.

Daniel heaved a long exhale when he finally realised he could check this off the list. Max assured him any problems he came across with it could be fixed later. 

“Hey, do you know when Charles will come home?” he asked Max.

“Probably around nine. This internship is hectic. But it's like…” Max looked like he was trying to find the right word. “Like his actual soul is flourishing. Not to be too poetic. Maybe I’ll whip up a fast dinner for us.” 

Daniel watched a blush colour Max’s high cheeks but it was the way his whole face changed when he spoke of his boyfriend that caught Daniel. Daniel felt his heart lurch in his chest, almost painful with the yearning for something similar.

Daniel suddenly thought of Michael and if he’d eaten dinner.

“Dan?” Max called, eyeing him curiously. “You okay? I called your name twice.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Daniel shook his head, smiling. “Sorry, what were you saying?

“I asked if you’re staying for dinner.”

Daniel thought about it and finally shook his head again and went to collect his bag.

“No, I think I’ll go. Another time?”

Max stood up, as well. “Sure. I’ll send you the video.”

Daniel ran into Charles in the hallway, arriving home earlier than Max had obviously expected him to. He gave Daniel a big friendly hug, but the smile on his face upon seeing his boyfriend standing excitedly at the front door waiting for him looked to Daniel like an exact replica of Michael's smile whenever he saw Daniel waiting for him in the mornings. 

Daniel really tried his best not to let his imagination run wild, but he planned on bringing Michael some dinner, and if Michael looked at him the way he always did, it was just going to make things so much harder for Daniel. 

------

Michael knew that Daniel played college football, but he’d never gotten a chance to watch him in action since Daniel had stopped to focus on his final project.

So when Daniel told him that he had been invited to play one last friendly match with the other graduating seniors before the college season ended for summer, Michael jumped at the opportunity to support him in the stands.

Daniel got Charles to drive and pick Michael up at the tattoo studio despite Michael’s insistence that he could full well find his way there on his own. When the car pulled up, Max was in the front seat and Daniel was in the back with another boy. Daniel pushed open the door for Michael and gestured him in, himself moving further into the middle seat and thoroughly squashing the other boy into the door.

“Please just chill,” the boy told Daniel as he was jostled around, his phone almost falling out of his hands.

“Michael, this is Lando,” Daniel said, pulling on Michael’s arm, then Lando’s, jostling him again and making him look up in annoyance. “Lando, say hi to Michael.”

“Hi,” Lando said, his gaze now curious as he peered over at Michael. He looked briefly at Max, who’d turned around. Michael caught him giving Lando a little smile and a nod. “Hey. I’m Lando.”

“Hey,” Michael said. He'd heard of Lando plenty of times, especially when Daniel mentioned him at the mural, but this was the first time they'd met. 

He did find Max and Lando’s interaction a little weird, but all of it was instantly forgotten when Michael noticed how...bewitching Daniel looked in his black football jersey, with the college crest in gold on the front and a big ‘Ricciardo 3’ on the back in the same shade.

Daniel smiled like he was really excited Michael was going to be there. He smiled like he didn’t know Michael would willingly take him as the only source of light in his life.

He didn’t know. And Michael realised he would never know. Because Michael...even if Daniel liked Michael back, Michael could never, in all his life, deserve any of Daniel’s affection. He would be unworthy.

Michael had to try so hard to keep his hands to himself, to not just reach over and grab Daniel’s face and tell him he was absolutely perfect. 

To kiss Daniel.

The fact that Daniel now knew everything about Michael’s past and yet his attitude towards Michael hadn’t changed one bit – the way Daniel treated him was the same, not an ounce more, not an ounce less, and not even treading the slightest bit more lightly than before – just made Michael fall so much deeper for the person Daniel was. 

But he knew if he let himself fall, then he would never get up, and Daniel didn’t deserve to be the one to stick around wasting his time picking up Michael’s pieces. 

So he focused his eyes on the back of Max’s head and ignored the heat of Daniel’s thigh against his own as they made the short trip to the university field.

They found a space enough for the four of them and another girl who joined – Michael was told her name was Carla, and she was from Spain, and she and Lando had been dating a couple of months.

Michael was briefly uncomfortable that he was the odd one out in a group of two couples, but the thought, again, was immediately erased when the match started and Michael’s entire body could only focus on the sight of Daniel in his black and gold running in the midfield.

Michael was familiar enough with football to enjoy the match, but honestly – the weather was really warm that day, and Daniel started to glow under the sun with all his sweat, which in turn made Michael...sweat for a whole other kind of reason. 

He was lucky to be seated right at the end next to Max, with Charles and Carla – the two most enthusiastic about the game amongst them – separating Max and Lando. Max was quiet, watching the game thoughtfully and occasionally turning to Michael to watch him instead. 

"He's pretty good, isn't he?" he eventually asked instead of watching Michael silently. 

Michael smiled. He really hadn't noticed, but. "Yeah."

"I used to come all the time just to see him sweat like that," Max laughed. 

Michael felt his own laugh bubble out of him. "Really?" he asked. "Were you guys ever…?"

"A couple?" Max shook his head. "Not really. I mean, I thought I really liked him, and I tried to get with him, and we almost got there, but…" he clutched at Charles's hand on his lap, and Michael understood. "What about you?"

"What about me?" Michael asked. 

"Do you like him?"

I can't, were the first words that popped into Michael's head. 

"He's a really good friend," Michael said, swallowing his true words, like he was used to doing. "Of course I like him."

Max's gaze wandered all over Michael's face for a few seconds before he smiled. "He really is a great friend."

Something in his tone made Michael think he really didn't buy into Michael's nonchalance at all. 

Michael turned back to the field. Daniel was bossing the other team around, the tattoo on his thigh peeking out as he ran. He frequently shouted loudly to guide his teammates. Michael could hear his accented voice ring out clearly amongst all the cheering and other shouting from the sidelines. Michael wished he could reach out and sweep Daniel’s curls off his forehead. Feel Daniel’s sweaty skin, his sweaty curls, under Michael’s palm.

His mind was just filled to the brim with Daniel, although the thought that he could never have him sunk Michael's heart like a stone. 

Daniel's team won in the end and even though Daniel hadn't scored, he was awarded the man of the match. He waved his trophy at them while he was collecting it, sending his row of best friends next to Michael into raptures. 

Michael smiled. He loved the sense of family Daniel and his friends never failed to provide him with. 

The sense of family that Michael was always reminded of when he went to help Daniel out with the mural, immortalised in the form of little insects that helped Psyche sort her grains. The ladybugs, each in a slightly different shade of red, representing Charles and his sense of fashion and attention to detail. The blue bottle flies, adorning the mural in their blue and green, to represent Max's calmness. Orange and black milkweed bugs for Lando. The butterflies to represent Daniel's mom, and the moths for his dad. Bees dedicated to his football team of black and gold. And caterpillars for all the friends he'd met in university, to represent all the potential they had as undergraduates. 

Daniel chose to represent Michael as a single, large Christmas beetle that sat next to Psyche. He told Michael it was special and native to Australia, and he spent a large proportion of his time every day perfecting the shades of green and gold and brown on the beetle. 

Michael wished one day he could have people he treasured so much that he would dedicate something like that to them. 

Daniel came up to them after taking loads of photos with his friends and teammates. Despite Michael being at the end of the row and there being loads of space next to him, Daniel chose to instead squeeze in what little gap there was between Michael and Max. 

"Where are we going for dinner?" he asked, slapping both their thighs on either side of him. "Michael, what do you want to eat?"

"I'm good with anything, you guys can decide," Michael said.

"C'mon, you decide," Daniel urged. The cheekiest grin appeared on his face. "Greek again?"

He had a strip of sweat decorating the bridge of his nose, like a line of little diamonds, shimmering in what was left of the light. Michael tried hard to resist the urge to pluck them off with his lips. 

"No," Michael said, making Daniel chuckle. 

Lando and Carla excused themselves, leaving just the four of them. Daniel eventually decided to stop pestering Michael and let Charles decide where to take them all for dinner. They waited in the car for Daniel to take his shower, Michael in the backseat as Max and Charles debated in the front about which one of Charles’s long list of recommendations they should take Michael to.

When Daniel reappeared, he was dancing his way to the car, his hips swaying to unheard music. The looks on Max and Charles’s faces let Michael know that they were already used to it, but the sight of it still brought Michael a sense of novel delight.

“What are we having, Charlie?” he asked as he hopped into the backseat, his duffel bag on the floor instead of on the seat between himself and Michael. He handed Michael his trophy, for some reason. 

Charles started rambling about some ribs restaurants as he started the car. Michael examined the small trophy in his hands, engraved with the words ‘man of the match’ and with a little sticker stuck on it that had Daniel’s name, his number, and his team.

“Are you okay with ribs?” Daniel’s voice was suddenly sounding in Michael’s ear. 

“I’m good with anything,” Michael said. He tried returning Daniel’s trophy, but Daniel pushed it back into his hand, as if he wanted Michael to have it.

The sweat on his nose was now replaced by the slightest sprinkle of pink. Michael still wanted to know the taste of it on his tongue.

He couldn’t look at Daniel for too long in case he just melted into the backseat of Charles’s car.

When Daniel first came to him as a customer asking for a very normal rose tattoo, not even a single fibre in Michael could have imagined that he would one day be trying so hard to fight these feelings he had for Daniel.

He sought consolation in the fact that if he never allowed himself to have Daniel, then he would never disappoint Daniel, and he would never drive Daniel away because Daniel wouldn’t realise how hard it was to love Michael.

Maybe a part of him was so afraid of loving Daniel because he was afraid that whatever Daniel gave back to him would be due to pity. That Daniel would love Michael only because he thought Michael needed him to. 

Michael hoped that he would never witness the same sort of pity he received from so many other people in Daniel’s beautiful brown eyes. He hoped that whenever he looked at Daniel, he would just get reminded of how stunning Daniel was, and how amazing it was that Daniel wanted to be his friend. 

He watched the three of them interact, so unreserved and animated it was as if they’d known each other since they were born. Daniel constantly tried to include Michael, which he really appreciated. It was nice being part of Daniel’s little family.

He ended up next to Daniel in the booth they got at the restaurant, Max and Charles across from them, huddled over the menu and discussing conspiratorially. Daniel examined the booklet thoughtfully, then turned to Michael.

“What are you having?” he asked. 

Michael was used to going for the cheapest thing on the menu whenever he was out at fancy places like this, so even though the prices seemed more reasonable than the decor conveyed, Michael found himself saying, “I’ll just have something light.”

“Don’t be like that, these guns need their ammo,” Daniel said, squeezing Michael’s bicep. “C’mon, order something nice so I can try it too. I’ll let you try mine.”

Michael ended up ordering the most delicious baby back ribs he had ever tasted in his life, but truly nothing could be tastier than all the times Daniel managed to make Michael laugh that night.

------

Michael’s little corner in the art studio began looking more and more homely by the day, though he was still reluctant to show his piece to Daniel. The makeshift curtain Michael set up around it successfully obscured Daniel’s view of his sculpture, and Michael made sure to cover it with a dust cover before he left every day. Thankfully, Daniel respected the sanctity of his art enough not to pry.

Daniel instead picked on how Michael occasionally left scrapers and little blobs of clay everywhere, and how it made Daniel happy because Michael was usually really neat and yet it looked like this was the floor of his own apartment. 

Michael found himself intentionally doing it more often just so he could see Daniel smile. 

This place was close to feeling like a second home to Michael, really. He spent so much time here with Daniel and his projects. The spaciousness of it all, the few wide wooden tables, the big glass gridded windows, and the art supplies strewn around in an organised mess – it all just made everything feel so relaxed and welcoming.

Daniel had been working on his baroque painting for a couple of weeks now. He had sketched the scene such that Aphrodite stared at the observer while the scenes unraveling underneath her displayed chaos, separation, anger, and regret. She stood so tall and proud in the center, so much larger than everything that surrounded her, that the eye was naturally drawn to her. She was the representation of the hurdles, of all the struggles a couple faced in their life together. Her flowing gowns surrounded her, a mix of light and dark, and she looked like a beautiful storm, ready to test everyone's roots. It required multiple shades of colour and finely detailed impasto, and with the multitude of characters and themes Daniel had blueprinted into this piece, both he and Michael were beginning to think maybe he’d overestimated himself. 

Michael felt like Daniel spent more time each day mixing paint than actually putting any on the canvas. He had planned the painting in a program and chosen the exact colours to go with each element, but putting those colours into reality was just such a strenuous process. 

Michael sat patiently next to him most days, his own sculpture abandoned as he helped Daniel achieve the perfect colours. Daniel did it in small parts, but he often reminded Michael that without Michael’s help, he didn’t think he would even be able to keep half up to schedule.

The image of Aphrodite at the very top seemed to Michael to be the easiest to complete, but it still took Daniel longer than he’d expected. It did give him a rush of accomplishment, though, when he was done with it; he scurried down the stepladder to admire it from afar, beaming proudly at it, then at Michael, eyebrows raised slightly as if to ask for his opinion. 

“I love it,” Michael told him. His opinion seemed really important to Daniel. “I like the flowers on her head. They’re very gentle and feminine, which brings out her rage even more.”

Daniel’s smile grew impossibly brighter. He had spent that entire afternoon perfecting the impasto on those flowers, and Michael just found watching his tanned bare arms move so...utterly captivating. He could spend hours on end just watching Daniel, flowing around the room like he was born to be here. The tender look Daniel occasionally gave Michael made all of Michael’s insides melt. He made the whole place so alive. Whenever he was around, Michael could feel his blood coursing through his veins, more purposeful than ever.

“Thank you,” he told Michael. “I’m really glad you like it.”

Michael smiled back at him. “Come here and see these colours I just made.”

Daniel crouched next to Michael and examined the two small tins of paint that Michael had mixed for him. One of them was a shade of yellow ochre and the other a pastelly watermelon pink, intended for small highlights of two different sections of the painting that Daniel wanted to complete that day.

“They look great,” Daniel remarked. He stood up again and extended a hand towards Michael to stand him up. “C’mon. Help me put it on. We’ll each do one side.”

Michael took the yellow and proceeded to colour the pile of fabric that lay at one of the character’s feet, emphasising the shadows with thicker strokes like Daniel usually did. Daniel used the pink on the clothing of another character. The little pops of colour looked good on what was otherwise turning out to be a very dark-themed classic baroque style painting.

Michael didn’t notice that it was already dark outside until Daniel finished his part and went to turn on the little spotlights that lined the wall the canvas was mounted on. The warm orange bulbs cast a comfortable glow on the half of the studio they were in.

Daniel stopped next to Michael, standing to admire the finished parts of the painting. He wiped his paint-stained hand on the front of his black sleeveless shirt. 

“It looks really good,” Michael told him. “I really like it.”

I really like you, the little voice in Michael’s head said. He tried to ignore it, tried to stop it from leaking out the tip of his tongue.

Daniel turned to him with another gentle smile. “Thank you so much, Michael,” he whispered.

There was a speck of mahogany red paint that had dried up on his cheek, near the corner of his lips. Michael was so tempted to wipe it away for him. Daniel’s mouth twitched upward a little, and the speck of paint disappeared into his dimple.

Michael met his gaze, and he seemed to have noticed that Michael was staring at his lips, for his own eyes wandered downwards and landed on Michael’s mouth.

Michael was suddenly hyper aware of how close they were standing to each other.

He wondered if Daniel was thinking of the same thing he was. The same thing Michael had been thinking...forever.

Michael didn’t have much time to ponder over that.

A rush of energy unlike any other shook his body as Daniel’s lips landed on his, soft and strong, as his hands moved to grasp the back of Michael’s neck and his waist. Michael’s own arms threaded around Daniel’s body, pulling him tightly against Michael. A little sigh escaped Daniel’s lips and Michael ate it up greedily.

Daniel tasted sweeter than Michael had allowed himself to imagine.

He clung on tightly to Michael, the heat from his body kindling parts of Michael’s insides that he hadn’t felt before. His hand moved up the back of Michael’s shirt; it sent a chill shooting up Michael’s spine, and Daniel took Michael’s gasp as an opportunity to explore the inside of his mouth.

Daniel began leading Michael towards the studio door, using his entire body to gently push Michael along. He pressed Michael against the door as he locked it, the loud click of the old lock making the both of them smile.

When they finally pulled apart to breathe, it was reluctant. Daniel was gasping for breath, his lips hanging open so alluringly. Michael wanted to nibble at them until he broke skin. 

Under the golden spotlights, Daniel looked like he could be the subject of one of his own paintings.

He was smiling again when Michael pulled him back in, open-mouthed. His lips were even softer now, and Michael found every part of his body hypersensitive to Daniel’s touch. Michael pushed and tugged until Daniel was backed up against one of the big wooden tables, after which Michael grabbed his thighs and lifted him onto the table. 

There was a commotion as Daniel knocked over some empty cans and bottles, but neither of them could care less. Daniel did let out a little giggle, though, one that was stifled by Michael’s tongue.

He obliged when Michael tugged upwards at his shirt, pulling away briefly only to allow it to be pulled off over his head. His skin was silky under Michael’s fingertips, but his muscles rock hard, like he was simultaneously carved out of the finest marble and yet sewn together with the smoothest satin. 

The contours of his body felt like they were carved personally by a Greek god. They ebbed and flowed under Michael’s hands as Daniel gasped for air, his skin seeming to light up wherever Michael touched him. He laid back on the table, letting Michael lean over him and pepper kisses up his abdomen.

All those days Michael had spent watching Daniel, admiring his body moving in its own elegant dance, tracing with his eyes the beads of sweat embellishing Daniel’s skin like little jewels, all the times he wished he knew what Daniel tasted like – all of it had come down to these very moments.

Daniel struggled back upright and hopped off the table to lead Michael back to the tarp in front of the painting. When he got down on the floor and dragged Michael down with him, Michael didn’t find one cell in his body that wanted to resist.

Their bodies molded together as if they were one, sweaty skin on sweatier skin. The tarp crackled underneath them as Daniel rolled over, putting a comfortable weight on Michael, holding him to the ground just like how he so easily grounded Michael every single day. His unruly curls were wild shadows against the spotlights; when Michael ran his hands through them, they were a kind of soft that was exaggerated around the dried specks of paint that inhabited them.

Daniel’s fingertips were also hard with dried paint, but his touch was so incredibly smooth on Michael’s skin. His hands moved the way they did when he was making art – purposefully, firmly, and most importantly, with all the care in the world. He moved Michael around so gently it was like he was barely there, yet in a way Michael had never been moved before. And he allowed Michael to do the same, the small smile hanging off his swollen lips never disappearing for a second.

Michael planted kisses wherever he could, softly, not wanting to leave any marks on Daniel’s perfect skin. He planted all his unspoken words in places he had never seen and never felt, but knew he would always love. He hid them where he knew Daniel would find them again, words of warmth, words of love.

Daniel keened into his grasp, whether it was his hands, his lips, or his thighs. Daniel’s neck – his neck smelled like everything at once, like paint, turpentine, freshly opened canvas, crisp linen, coffee, freshly baked muffins. His neck smelled so inherently Daniel.

He shuddered when Michael placed little butterfly kisses on the inside of his thigh, tracing Daniel’s tattoo with the tip of his tongue. His hands moved to grasp as much of Michael’s hair as he could, but not to pull him away, just to guide him slowly. And Michael. Michael had spent hours – he had spent days on end thinking about that tattoo on Daniel’s thigh. His lips twitched whenever Daniel’s shorts rode up to reveal more of it. He thought constantly about how it would feel beneath his fingertips. How he would trace it with his fingers. With his lips. With his tongue. And now, he was actually doing it, and it tasted more delicious than Michael had been able to conjure in his head.

The way their bodies rocked together, it was like they’d been made just for that moment. It was slow and careful, yet so warm, so passionate. Daniel cradled Michael’s head and his thigh as Michael trembled into his release. 

He held Michael like no one had ever held him, like he took it upon himself the full responsibility of holding Michael together. And Michael. Michael just wanted to protect him. He wanted to give Daniel everything he could without hurting him.

The last gasp Daniel gave seemed to echo around the hollows of Michael’s soul. His lips surrounded Michael’s Adam’s apple, sucking on it gently as he shuddered, placing his full weight on Michael. 

Michael felt himself almost melt into the tarp as the ambient sounds of the art studio came flowing back into his ears. The faint roar of the cars on the main road. The soft clatter of a stray paintbrush as it rolled on the concrete floor.

Daniel peered up at him from his shoulder, his sweaty curls plastered all over his forehead like it was one of Jackson Pollock’s paintings. He smiled at Michael, the action illuminating all his beautiful features.

Michael found enough nerve to smile back at him.

He lay back down and closed his eyes. Daniel remained unmoving on his shoulder, his breaths slowing down so they synced with Michael’s.

The slight fidgety movements from Daniel made Michael open his eyes again. The room was almost spinning around him with the way Daniel made him feel. 

Michael had never allowed himself to feel this happy. 

Every time he did, he felt like it was going to be taken away from him. 

And the sight of the newly-finished Aphrodite, towering just above Daniel, sprung Michael back into that reality. 

He didn’t deserve this. He was never going to deserve this. 

The painting above them was half-finished, but it told the whole story.

Michael pushed Daniel off him gently and stood up. He found his clothes and put them on as quickly as he could manage with his trembling hands. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. “Sorry. Sorry, I can’t.”

“Why?” Daniel whispered back, like he was afraid to burst their little bubble.

Michael didn’t want to, either. 

But he noticed something in Daniel’s gaze; a look he’d seen before, a feeling he was so tired of being on the receiving end of. Something that everyone he knew seemed to have in common towards him.

Something he had wished to never see in Daniel’s eyes, harder than Michael had ever wished for anything, ever.

Pity.

“Stop,” Michael said, his voice catching in his throat. “Don’t – don’t look at me like that.”

You’re never going to get happiness. You should never have been born. 

“Like what?” 

I don’t care if you have to live out on the street. You don’t belong in this house.

“Daniel, I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“Why?” Daniel asked again. “You – you like me, right? And I like you. Why can’t we…”

“I don’t need you to pity me. I don’t need any more people to pity dear old Michael with the painted past.”

“It’s not –”

“I don’t need you to fuck me just because you pity me.”

“It’s not pity, Michael,” Daniel whispered desperately. Tears glimmered in his eyes, ready to spill out. “Michael. I’m in love –”

“Don’t say it,” Michael closed his eyes. He willed his fists not to shake. “Please, Daniel, don’t say it. Please.”

Daniel went silent. 

You don’t deserve to be loved.

But Michael wanted to. He wanted to be loved more than he wanted anything else in the world. And he wanted to love Daniel. To hold Daniel. He tried so hard not to want it, but it came so easily to him. It would be so much more uncomplicated if Michael could just...allow himself to want things.

To love.

But he was so afraid, so utterly petrified that he didn’t deserve Daniel, that all the love Daniel could hold for him would in the end amount to nothing at all. He knew that it was only a matter of time before Daniel realised that he really didn’t want to help Michael drag around all the baggage he had. There was nothing at all in Michael that made him worthy of being loved. He couldn’t trust himself to ever be loved. 

Michael took a few deep breaths, then forced himself to open his eyes.

Daniel was still sitting on the tarp, supported by one arm, his other arm now holding a paint-splattered cloth to cover himself. He gazed despairingly at Michael, his lips parting only to accommodate the gasp and sob that shook his shoulders. 

He looked like he was the subject of one of his own paintings, again.

Daniel was a piece of fucking art.

But Michael knew he would only ruin him with his own bare hands.

“You know that I can’t do this,” Michael whispered. In that moment, he was just so – so completely, irrationally angry at Daniel. “This shouldn’t have happened. Why did you let it happen?”

“Because we both wanted it.”

“It was just an accident,” Michael said weakly. He could barely convince himself. 

“It wasn’t. You know that, Michael. We both wanted it. We want each other. Why won’t you ever let me show you?”

“I can’t,” Michael closed his eyes again. “I can’t want anything, ever, in my life, without ruining it. You know I can’t, Daniel. I –” Michael had to get far away from Daniel, from amazing, perfect Daniel, or he was going to have a complete embarrassing breakdown. “I have to go. I have to go.”

He struggled to unlock the door, but once Michael was outside, he started running.

He ran and ran until he forgot how to breathe, but at least this way, his lungs, his heart, his entire body – it was malfunctioning for a reason other than how exquisite Daniel was and how much Michael wanted him. 

------

Daniel only woke up the next morning to his mentor shaking him awake.

“Dan. Dan, did you sleep here?” she asked. “You really work too hard. Give yourself a break.”

Daniel stared up at the high ceiling for a while before getting up when he realised his alarm was blaring from his backpack across the room. Thankfully, he was already dressed – full walk of shame style, but Daniel was too exhausted to care.

He felt like he was in pieces.

He got to work just in time for opening, taking his place at the front counter as usual. He prepared a large americano and a ham and cheese sandwich, exactly the same way he did every single time he took the opening shift. 

Michael didn’t come to collect them.

Daniel could see his station through the black and gold window across the road.

People went in and out, but the station was empty all morning.

Daniel tried not to spill any of his tears into the coffee he was serving. 

The lunch crowd arrived, and soon it was time for Daniel to clock out. The coffee and sandwich sat there, cold and unwanted.

Daniel chucked them in the bin and left without a second thought.

*

Paint mixing was more tedious and unsuccessful when Michael wasn’t around, but Daniel forced himself not to think about it.

He spent the whole afternoon trying to perfect this one shade of sapphire blue to mimic cascading waves, in canned food tins. Each of them went into the bin eventually, ditched just like Michael’s unwanted coffee that morning.

Daniel had all but given up by the time dusk arrived. He sat by the window, sighing at the plant Max and Charles had given him. The surroundings quietened down with the day’s departure, so when the studio door creaked open, it was almost deafening.

Michael stepped inside quietly.

The first sight of him all day brought a sort of warmth to Daniel’s heart that he couldn’t describe.

He expected Michael to have only dropped by for his own sculpture, but instead, Michael walked slowly over to Daniel’s blueprints and examined them carefully before proceeding to grab the different shades of blue and white to achieve the shade Daniel was looking for.

Daniel could cry.

He watched Michael from the window for a while, his strong shoulders gliding under his shirt as he moved the cans, his gentle, gentle hands pouring just the right amount of paint each time.

Michael came back. He came back for Daniel, and.

Daniel just loved him so much.

Michael didn’t say a word, but Daniel took his appearance as an offer of apology. It wasn’t that Daniel needed him to apologise – Daniel knew what he went through every single day – but Michael was...just that kind of person. On the exterior he was composed and strong, but on the inside he felt more emotions that he would ever be willing to reveal.

They hadn’t gotten their happy ending last night, but Daniel...really couldn’t bring himself to be angry at Michael. He knew that loving Michael came with loving all these parts, loving all his weaknesses and his doubts. Loving him through them. And Daniel wanted to. He really wanted to. 

Daniel felt like he needed to apologise more than Michael did. Even if it was just a misunderstanding. 

He went over and sat next to Michael on the tarp. Michael didn’t turn his head, but Daniel caught his gaze darting towards him momentarily before returning to the paint.

“I don’t pity you,” Daniel whispered. “I don’t. I think you are the most amazing, the most beautiful, the strongest person I know. I’m so proud of you for making it this far. And I will always support you no matter how far you want to go. I’m sorry if it came across that way, that I pitied you. But I don’t pity you, Michael Italiano. Because you shouldn’t be pitied. You have the most wonderful heart and you have one badass of a brain. No one should ever pity you for that.”

Michael didn’t respond to that, but there was an iota of a smile on his lips as he pushed the tin of perfectly mixed blue paint towards Daniel.

The rest of the night was quiet, but Daniel felt so profoundly comfortable in Michael’s presence.

------

Daniel arrived at the gallery after his only written exam, sighing in relief at the sight of the brown delivery cartons stacked up near his work bench.

He had barely opened his books and notes all semester, so the past week had been dedicated to doing all his cramming. It was a relief to finally get back to working with his hands and creating art.

Daniel grabbed a box cutter and got to work, opening the boxes that carried large squares of glass. The majority of them were craquel cream glass for his base, with a few pieces of cathedral glass stained red and green, and another few in different types. There were two slabs of opaque glass in black, and then a few tools he knew the studio didn’t carry.

He had two ongoing projects in the mural and the canvas, but that wasn’t going to stop him from starting his third active piece. It gave him the range to see his work in a new light every time he returned to it and not lose his mind mixing the right shade somewhere between taupe and ecru, or laying down the base for one of the figures in the mural for days on end. And he refused to think it had anything to do with him trying to distract himself from his failing love life.

Daniel laid out the larger pieces that would make up the main framework of the glass door. 

Once his work space was primed, Daniel grabbed the hard paper and started to draw traces for the roses that would go around the edges of the door.

The door opened and clicked closed quietly, and Daniel couldn’t help but look up, even though he would recognise the sound of those footsteps in the middle of a crowded high street.

“Hey, Michael,” Daniel greeted.

He looked beautiful with his hair slightly damp, and wearing an old band shirt with the sleeves cut off.

“Hey,” Michael surveyed the glass pieces taking up the majority of the floor space in their workspace, before looking up at him again. “Oh, you’ve started on it already?” 

“Just sketching and testing the tools. Then I’ll go back to the painting,” Daniel nodded.

The painting was still in its full glory on the wall, just that bit more complete that it had been...on that night.

Images of that night flashed through Daniel’s mind like they did every time he was with Michael.

Daniel had thrown himself wholly into his projects and revising for his written exam, but the second he stopped to take a breath, all he could think about was Michael. And the things Michael made him feel and how Michael had stopped him from speaking of those very feelings that he felt in his core.

The energy in the art studio had changed.

Michael still joined him there and they still went to the mural together, and he still helped Daniel mix paint. Michael still came to the cafe whenever he was on his shift, and Daniel still brought him his breakfast some mornings. They still talked, and Daniel still made silly jokes for them to laugh over, but. It wasn’t the same. Every time they spoke, Daniel felt lead in his fingertips and toes. Like he was heavy with the weight of his efforts. The effort to stay unchanged, and the effort to keep his feelings to himself. So even when it was the same, it still wasn’t.

“Let me know if you need any help,” Michael said, pulling Daniel out of his thoughts.

Daniel watched as Michael carefully stepped around the glass to his own workstation and settled on his stool. He closed his eyes, a deep breath leaving his body as he turned his focus back to the tracing at hand. They worked in relative silence until Michael spoke to him. 

“Dan, didn’t you have your exam today?” he sounded surprised, like he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten

“Yeah.”

“That’s why you look like you can finally breathe again,” Michael had a little smile on his face. “How did it go?” 

“You have no idea. And I think I’ll get a passing grade,” Daniel cocked his head to the side, reconsidering his judgement and adding, “At least.”

They fell back into silence. It felt like they were back to square one, making small talk with long pauses that weren’t as comfortable as Daniel once remembered. 

He picked up one of the red cathedral glass pieces when he was done tracing the patterns for his roses, placing it down on his work table. He felt the excitement when he traced the first rose shaped line with the glass cutter, pushing it out with the palm of his hand. 

And he should’ve known better because the next thing Daniel knew, there was a searing pain in his palm that disappeared at the first streaks of blood.

“Dan?” Michael was by his side before Daniel realised he’d left his seat, taking over and encircling Daniel’s wrist in a gentle hold. He examined the wound, and all Daniel could do was watch, completely captured by Michael’s face. His forehead was furrowed in concern and Daniel’s heart lurched forward in his chest.

Michael’s lips were moving and he was saying something but Daniel couldn’t hear anything over the blood rushing through his ears. He guided Daniel by the shoulders to the floor next to the window where the last of the sunlight filtered in. Daniel sat down, his gaze following Michael as he walked to the other end of the room before returning to his side with a medical kit in his hand.

Daniel watched Michael clean the wound with an alcohol swab, making him wince. Michael peered back at him apologetically, hand applying soothing pressure over the wound. 

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked.

No. But it had nothing to do with the feelings that concerned Michael. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Not feeling dizzy, are we?” Michael smiled at him. He saw the softness in Michael’s eyes, the brown melting in the sunlight.

Daniel shook his head. 

He wasn’t dizzy, but being this close to Michael, inhaling his scent with that hint of spice mixed with his shower gel and something that was so intrinsically Michael – that might’ve just made him. 

Michael looked away first, grabbing the gauze and holding it against Daniel’s cut. The bleeding had slowed down, and a dull throbbing pulsed through his palm. 

Michael treated him with so much care, like he was a delicate piece of china. 

And god, he looked so hot. He always had, and from the first time Daniel had laid eyes on him in that clinic, he’d thought Michael was insanely attractive, but. He hadn’t expected it to escalate into...this. To Daniel fucking falling in fucking love. 

Daniel moved to grasp Michael’s hand, making him let go of the gauze. He wrapped his fingers around Michael’s, relieved that Michael didn’t pull away. His other hand remained gently around Daniel’s wrist, holding his injured hand in place.

The piece of gauze fluttered slightly in the still studio air, the way Daniel’s heart always fluttered at the thought of Michael.

The way their hands locked together, it just – it looked so perfect.

Michael was looking at them, too; Daniel saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously. 

Daniel was transported back to that night, the memory of their hands exploring every inch of each other’s bodies replaying in his mind’s eye. The way Michael moved, so desperately yet so gently, so steadily. The way he looked at Daniel, as if Daniel was the only thing he could see, the only thing that mattered. The way he kissed Daniel, like he thought he’d never get another chance. The way his sweat smelled, so delicious on the tip of Daniel’s tongue. The way his touch seemed to make every part of Daniel glow. The way they just...fit together. 

Michael turned his hand so his palm was against Daniel’s. He hesitated for a moment, then intertwined their fingers.

Daniel was so afraid his heart would leap out of his chest and straight into Michael’s.

But if it would take away all of Michael’s pain, then he would let it.

Michael’s eyelashes fanned his cheeks beautifully when he closed his eyes. Daniel let himself marvel at it – marvel at Michael’s pure, unadulterated beauty. He didn’t know how beautiful he was. He didn’t know how beautiful Daniel thought he was, how beautiful Daniel had always thought he was, from the very start. 

Michael had been so thoroughly damaged in his childhood that he thought no one would ever want him, that everyone who knew him only wanted to give him things because they thought he couldn’t do it on his own. He had been brought up to hate himself, to hate everything he might’ve stood for or wanted to stand for. He had been brought up to find himself so revolting that he was undeserving of anything good that came his way. So Daniel understood. He understood all the reasons why Michael couldn’t accept his love.

But Daniel didn’t want Michael because he thought he could fix Michael. He wanted Michael because he wanted to give Michael everything he needed to fix himself.

Michael suddenly cleared his throat, bringing Daniel back into this grey, stark reality. He slid his hand out of Daniel’s and changed the piece of gauze so he could bandage Daniel’s hand.

Even in rejection, Michael’s touch was so impossibly gentle. 

Why won’t you let me show you what we could be? 

The question remained unasked, the harsh words tattooed on the walls of Daniel’s mouth.

“I doubt you’ve had lunch with how forgetful you are,” Michael handed him a drink, oblivious to all the thoughts marathoning in Daniel’s mind.

Daniel didn’t answer, but Michael was on the nose with that one. He had forgotten in his excitement to get back to the studio.

“Do you want to take the day off, maybe? It’s gonna be hard with...one functional hand and besides, you look a bit tired,” Michael’s voice was small and quiet.

Daniel was tired. Now that Michael mentioned it, he felt the heaviness in his shoulders. And suddenly the idea of his room and his bed and just. Being able to sleep and stop his brain whirring nonstop sounded so appealing.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll just start packing up here,” Daniel got up so he could start clearing out the clutter at his work bench.

“I’ll take care of it. Go,” Michael was standing next to him now, nodding towards the door.

When Daniel didn’t stop, Michael grabbed hold of his elbow. Daniel didn’t know what was going through his head as he pulled his arm back without another word, in that moment only knowing that he had to get away from Michael or his chest would collapse on itself with the weight of all his feelings.

He grabbed his phone and made for the door without looking back, the picture of Michael’s stunned face swirling in his head and very real tears threatening to make their way down his face.

------

Daniel’s friends and family had flooded his phone since the clock had struck midnight on his birthday, and his flatmates had wished him a happy birthday at breakfast, which they’d prepared. Max, Charles, and Lando had sent him gifs and rude messages but ultimately wished him too. 

They all made him smile, although there was no message from Michael. Things had been a little tense between them, but they had come to some silent agreement to move past whatever had happened. They were at least exchanging little updates on their day and doing the whole small talk thing, so maybe Michael was waiting to wish Daniel later or during his shift at the coffee shop in the morning. Daniel let that thought keep his spirits up. 

When he made his way behind the coffee shop counter, and Michael came in to pick up his iced coffee with some morning grub without a wish in sight, it made Daniel’s heart sink a little. Even Oliver had wished him.

He knew birthdays weren’t all that significant at their age, but Daniel still loved the idea of a day dedicated to them anyway. He assumed Michael forgot, and well. It didn’t matter all that much, the voice in his head reasoned.

“How’s your shift going?” Michael asked, sipping at his coffee. 

He looked positively delectable in the sleeveless blue jersey with the name of a sports team and a number splashed across the front in white and red, paired with his plain black running shorts. Daniel could see the slight sheen of sweat across his forehead. It was crazy how much he wanted to reach over the counter and just. Kiss him once more and feel the taste of his skin against his own and – Daniel put a mental stop to that train of thought. Even after everything that had happened between them, he was still crazy about Michael, and he found himself constantly trying to reel his thoughts back in just so he wouldn’t act on impulse again.

Daniel shrugged. “Just. You know, standard stuff.”

“Your hand’s much better now, yeah?”

Daniel nodded. He still wore a gauze and thin bandage over it just in case, but he could at least use his hand now, which was really convenient given he still had all his art to complete in order to graduate.

“Hey, are you swinging by the art studio later?” Michael asked. “Can you maybe come by so we can work on the stained glass door a bit?”

Daniel’s friends had planned to take him out for drinks, and Daniel had been about to extend the offer to Michael regardless of whether he remembered Daniel’s birthday or not. He sighed softly. “I kinda already have plans for tonight?” 

Michael looked at him with the widest puppy eyes and Daniel thought it was really unfair for any one person to hold this much power over him. “Please? Just half an hour. I promise.”

Daniel really couldn’t resist when Michael asked like that. “Okay, I’ll drop by after my shift.”

Michael smiled the brightest smile Daniel had ever seen, and he felt himself spiralling further and further down the rabbit hole.

He left, and the rest of Daniel’s uneventful shift was spent gazing into the partially visible street as he served the steady stream of customers.

*

The lights inside the art studio were switched off and it looked completely empty to Daniel as he climbed the steps up to it. He had texted his friends saying he’d be a little late, but if Michael really made him come down here and forgot himself, Daniel wasn’t sure how kindly he’d take to that.

He clicked the door open, and an array of voices chanted ‘surprise!’ as he stepped in.

Daniel was stunned in his spot. The lights turned on, and he saw the faces come into view. His mates from football were all there, the same ones he was meant to go out for drinks with. There were his friends from his year, and even one of his flatmates had made it. Lando and Carla stood next to Max and Charles, with Michael standing next to them.

Daniel’s mouth opened and shut without finding the words to say as he looked around the studio, which had been completely transformed. His art pieces had been covered and put away, and the same had been done to all the supplies in the room. The floors were clean of any paint splatters and there was a giant balloon arrangement of white, green and metallic gold set against the free wall space. There were two numbered balloons for his age.

“What the hell, guys? I thought we were going out for drinks!” Daniel had no idea his smile could get as wide as it did, or that he could giggle like he kept doing as everyone started to cheer him. He was clapped on the back and given one armed hugs as he made his way through the crowd.

He was sure everyone could see the blush that sat high on his cheeks, but he didn’t care at all. He felt larger than life.

Charles pushed him into the space behind the table – his work table, which was usually covered with paint tins and dried, toxic paint but was now sparkling clean – that had a cake on it. A tall round cake that looked like it was meant to feed a football team. Well, there was a football team and then some, in the room, so Daniel guessed that was it. It was covered in white frosting, smeared with golden food paint, and decorated with green fondant that was shaped into a laurel wreath. There was a candle standing proudly in the middle.

Michael handed him a knife and scrunched his nose sheepishly at Daniel, mouthing ‘happy birthday’ to him. And if Daniel wasn’t already in a puddle on the floor, he was sure he would be now. So Michael had just pretended to not remember and all this while he had helped with this entire thing.

He was pulled back into reality as Michael leaned over the table and lit the candle, everyone around Daniel urging him to blow it out.

“Make a wish, Daniel,” Michael’s voice could barely be heard over the crowd, but Daniel’s eyes were trained on him.

I want you by my side.

Daniel looked at Michael the entire time as he bent down to blow out the candle, his grin irrepressible. Everyone around them sang happy birthday for him, and his heart felt like a cup overflowing with happiness. 

He cut into the cake, unable to hear anything over the noise. It was a white sponge with what looked like blueberry cream cheese filling smeared between the layers.

Daniel took a bite out of the cake and it tasted divine, but he didn’t get to enjoy the rest of it as Max and one of his friends from the football team smeared frosting on his face. Everyone laughed as he tried to press the piece he held into their faces. 

One of Daniel’s friends took over his cake cutting duties, so he walked over to where Max and Michael had gone, near where the food appeared to be. Someone had thankfully handed him some paper towels to wipe his face with.

“Did you guys plan this?” Daniel looked between the two, and then back to where Charles was standing.

“Mainly this one,” Max hooked his thumb in Michael’s direction with a sly smirk on his face. “But yeah, we all did.”

“I can’t believe,” He looked around the art studio again, fascinated at how they had transformed it. “You managed to pull this off without me noticing.”

Max gave him a hug, tapping his back lightly. “I’m gonna carry these trays over and get back to you.” 

He left after giving Daniel an encouraging raise of his eyebrows and the slightest, barely noticeable tilt of his head towards Michael. He really seemed to know more than he was letting on, leaving Daniel only slightly more confused.

But just as Max seemed to wish, it was just him and Michael now, standing over the remaining trays of delicious-smelling food.

“So, did you have fun pretending not to remember my birthday all morning?” Daniel crossed his arms over his chest, not being able to stop the playful smile that crossed his face.

Michael laughed. “I’m sorry. The way your face fell this morning almost made me break.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead, laugh all you want,” Daniel rolled his eyes dramatically, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

He couldn’t help himself as he leaped towards Michael, letting his arms wrap around Michael’s neck in a hug. His eyes fluttered shut as he let himself revel in the warmth of the embrace. Michael’s hands settled on his lower back, ever so gently, almost like he was afraid of placing them there. When Daniel pulled back, Michael smiled at him, but there was a cloudiness in his gaze, an uncertainty.

Daniel’s smile faltered, but he tried to shake off the doubt.

“Thank you. For doing all of this,” Daniel’s voice almost sounded strange to his own ears, suddenly too soft in the crowded room. He felt like he and Michael were in a bubble of their own, with Max and Charles milling around them to carry the trays with chips and dip to the main table, not stopping by them long enough to stop them from talking.

“Of course,” Michael shrugged, like all of this effort was nothing out of the ordinary. 

“Oi, Dan! You’re gonna miss out on the pasties,” Daniel heard someone shout from the main table, making him turn.

Daniel looked back at Michael one more time, taking his hand in his own and giving it one last squeeze before letting him go.

“I’m gonna go over there before they come over.”

Daniel was swarmed by his friends for the rest of the evening, before everyone headed out to a nearby club after the food had been polished. Daniel stayed back to help clean up the art studio. Charles gathered the dishes they’d brought snacks in along with stray paper cups and plates into a large black bag. Max was sweeping the floor while Michael worked to bring the art studio back to its original state, taking off the covers they had carefully laid out over everyone’s works and moving everything back to their original positions.

Daniel went to the balloon arrangement and just stood by it, taking selfies. 

He heard a sigh that was very characteristic of Max. “If it wasn’t your birthday, I’d mop the place up with your face.”

Daniel looked at him with a satisfied smile, wiggling his eyebrows. “But it is my birthday, so you can suck it.” 

He heard Michael laughing at their exchange, then felt a light smack on his arm. He turned to see Michael nodding at the balloons. 

“Tie them up and maybe you can take them to your room. Or keep them at your work bench. We’d all like a drink now, so the sooner we can leave,” he implied. 

“Yeah, and maybe Lando will stop moaning for sending them ahead.” Max floated from somewhere at the other end of the studio. 

Daniel spurred into action, but did no more than stow away his numbered golden balloons as the other three men cleaned around him. 

They all grabbed their jackets and made their way out some time later, Max and Charles walking ahead while Michael matched Daniel’s stride next to him. Daniel couldn’t believe Michael had organised this event for him. The little hope that he had tried to nip down in his heart was in full bloom now. He watched Max and Charles ahead of them, holding hands. His hand suddenly itched for that, and Daniel wanted to reach over and just hold Michael’s hand. 

He did the next best thing and just reached over, linking their arms together. Michael looked down at him with surprise in his face. Daniel saw the shadows of doubt cross his face before he schooled his expression, putting on a tentative smile instead.

They reached the club and of course Charles got ID’d, making them burst into laughter. Once inside the dimly lit club with EDM playing through speakers and drowning out everything else, they started to search for their friends. Max spotted some of them first, leading the three of them to where they were huddled next to the bar.

There was another round of cheers for the birthday boy, and Daniel couldn’t suppress his grin. He ordered a round of shots for everyone, and Max helped him carry them back to the table, practically pushing him into Michael’s side before returning to Charles’s side. It earned Max a glare from Daniel, but he just smirked in response. Daniel thanked the heavens for his coordination or they would all be smelling of alcohol before the night had even started.

Daniel felt so happy, here in a crowd of people he adored, all here to celebrate with him. Everyone was mixing well enough, and they watched Carla drag Lando to the dancefloor; he suddenly looked terrified, making everyone laugh.

“He’s toast,” Max shook his head, laughing at his poorly-coordinated friend. Charles grabbed his hand suddenly, pulling him towards the dancefloor as well – and now he was just added to the list of casualties. Everyone soon parted ways, making their way towards the dancefloor or for refills, others finding someone to chat up. Some of them offered to take Daniel along, but he declined politely, telling them he was waiting on Michael, who’d wandered away for some reason.

Michael eventually came back, his eyebrows raised a little at the sight of Daniel being accompanied by a few strangers hanging out on the other side of the table instead of the familiar crowd of friends. He handed Daniel a drink and settled next to him, watching the dancefloor with him.

He was such a calming presence, and it made Daniel relax despite all the noise that surrounded them and all the people that moved around them.

Michael suddenly laughed next to him, making Daniel gaze up in question. He nodded towards a corner of the dancefloor where Max struggled to keep up with Charles. Watching them, seeing Charles let loose like this after the year or so he’d had, when he’d almost given up on everything – it made Daniel so happy. They both watched as Max finally slowed his boyfriend down, taking him up into his arms. They were holding each other now, moving slowly in the fast paced crowd around them.

Daniel looked away, the scene one of quiet intimacy that he so longed for. It felt almost voyeuristic to witness this in a club amidst couples grinding and making out wherever he turned. Maybe it was because he knew how they felt for one another. Daniel looked up at Michael again, and noticed Michael had been watching him.

“Do you want to dance with me?” Daniel put his best face on as he asked.

Michael sighed, but a small smile was playing on his lips. “Do I have a choice?”

“I mean, when you say it like that,” Daniel grinned up at him, his heart feeling like it was bursting at the seams when Michael returned it. He grabbed Michael’s hand in his own, their palms so perfectly moulding into each other, fitting perfectly like they were meant to always hold hands, and began dragging him along until they found space somewhere in the middle of the floor. 

The song changed, and Daniel let the music take over his senses. He danced in the little space they occupied, not a care in the world. He felt his curls matting down against his forehead, so his hair had probably turned into a sweaty mess.

He saw Michael in the corner of his eye, standing there just watching Daniel with a smile and bobbing his head to the beat. Daniel got a hold of his hands, prompting him to move more. The way Michael threw his head back to laugh, exposing the line of his neck, just left Daniel wanting more. 

Someone bumped into Daniel, making him push even closer to Michael. 

When Daniel looked up at him, his face had changed. He looked serious all of a sudden, staring back at Daniel. Michael was suddenly so close, so completely in Daniel’s space. The dark earth of his eyes flashed behind the colours of the rainbow dance floor lights. Michael didn’t move his hands from where he’d held onto Daniel’s arms to steady him, and Daniel let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Daniel was so close to Michael, all he had to do was reach up and he could taste him one more time.

The alcohol was finally getting to his head because Daniel couldn’t have been in any state to reason why he reached up and pressed his lips against Michael’s. 

Daniel waited for him to move, to respond. 

But Michael didn’t kiss him back. 

Daniel felt his body turning cold as he pulled back, unable to look anywhere but a spot behind Michael’s shoulder.

“Dan...” Michael hesitated.

Daniel was such an idiot for thinking this would work. That everything Michael had done for him that day was more than just friendliness, especially after Michael had made abundantly clear what they had shared was just one night of carnal desire.

He cleared his throat, forcing out the words when all he wanted to do was curl up and cry. “No, don't. I’m sorry for putting you on the spot again.”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” He heard Michael loud and clear despite the noise.

Daniel felt dirty all of a sudden, like he had just forced himself on someone that wanted nothing to do with him. He stepped back some more, and turned away to head in the opposite direction. Anywhere far away so he could just. Just clear his head.

He heard Michael call after him, something he couldn’t make out.

There was a long line in front of the bathroom, making him turn away and leave the club in his haste. Daniel let the air rush into his lungs as he walked away from the crowds in front of the club. 

He drew in a long breath before letting it out again. Their night together came rushing back to him, how Michael had run away then. And the day Daniel had cut himself, how Michael had evaded his advances. Michael had been sending signals all this while for Daniel to back off, and Daniel – 

God, he was such a fucking idiot for still holding out. Still hoping there was more and making it into a thing in his head. But then everything else came back to him – all the good things, every happy memory they created, all the beautiful things Michael had shared with him and done with him. Those far outweighed the bad. So had it really been all just in his head?

Daniel raked his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t deal with this, the mixed signals. Or maybe it was just his feelings clouding his judgement. He really didn’t know anything, he couldn’t tell the difference. 

All he knew was that they danced around each other constantly, toeing the line between friendship and lovers, and Michael was good at it. Good at compartmentalising, probably. But Daniel couldn’t do it. Not with how much he loved Michael and how desperately he wanted that love to be reciprocated.

He needed to distance himself if he wanted any chance of surviving this, because ignoring it and acting like nothing had happened definitely wasn’t working. Daniel kept falling into the same trap over and over again, and it wasn’t fair on Michael either.

Daniel had completely missed Michael approaching until he stood in front of Daniel with regret and sorrow showing in every line in his face.

“Dan, I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to react there, I –” he was fretting, and Daniel hadn’t seen him like this very often. “I just don’t want to ruin our friendship,” Michael finished, wringing his hands. 

And that was it, wasn’t it? Daniel had worked to earn his friendship, and Michael had let him in, trusting him with his deepest secrets. He had allowed Daniel to become a friend, and now Daniel was supposed to tell him they needed to end that friendship? 

Daniel felt cornered again all of a sudden. Like the walls were closing in and something was pulling at the air in his lungs.

He wished he was as strong as Michael, that he could...just not let himself feel.

“We won’t,” he eventually said, shaking his head and avoiding eye contact. “Lose our friendship. I just – just don’t feel good for what I did there.”

“Daniel…”

“I think I need to leave for now. Thanks for the party. And...everything.” 

Michael’s hand was suspended in midair, as if he had meant to reach out for Daniel, but he let it curl up into a fist and fall back to his side. “Can I at least drop you off?”

“No, I – I just want to be on my own for a bit,” Daniel swallowed hard as he said the words. “I’ll see you around. At the...the studio.”

“Okay.” 

Michael looked so small. Even while his own heart was shattering, all Daniel wanted to do was turn back and help Michael and he had to stop the urge to reach out again, to hug Michael. 

Daniel had tears in his eyes again as he turned and left, but they weren’t the tears of embarrassment that had prickled his eyes when he was rushing out of the club. These were tears of heartbreak spilling over as his insides failed to hold it together anymore. They streamed down his face freely now, and he walked without purpose until he saw the bus stand.

Once in the safety of his room, Daniel picked up his phone and dialled the only person who always knew what to do. His mother. Daniel felt like he was seven again, afraid of a thunderstorm and tucking into his mother’s side, a rush of relief knocking him off his feet when he heard her comforting voice on the other end of the line.

------

Michael did not, in fact, see Daniel around at the art studio.

He actually began seeing less of Daniel towards the end of summer; Daniel began working fewer shifts at the coffee shop, though he still set aside Michael’s breakfast for him whenever he was there in the morning, and left dinner at Michael’s station in a little doggy bag if he worked at night.

Summer had always brought more appointments for Michael, and this year was no different. He frequently only made it to the art studio in the dead of night, when Daniel had already left. Even when he was there during the day, Daniel wasn’t; Michael assumed he was working on his mural.

Michael always thought of going to join him, but he honestly didn’t know if he was welcome.

He was always awestruck, though, at Daniel being able to sustain and channel his hard work towards three big projects at once – the painting, the mural, and the stained glass door – without stopping for a breath. Daniel was just...amazing. Michael couldn’t even begin to comprehend how perfect he was.

Sitting alone in his dim corner, sculpting the wings of his guardian angel – it was relaxing, but it was different without Daniel around. More often, Michael found himself studying Daniel’s drafts and sketches, voluntarily mixing paint and filling up some of the smaller empty spaces on Daniel’s Aphrodite painting as a sort of little surprise for when Daniel came the next day.

Michael wouldn’t be there to see the look on his face, but he could imagine it, and that image alone in Michael’s mind was enough to make him smile.

And the fact that Daniel never once painted over one of Michael’s meaningless surprises just...made Michael wish things could be different between them. 

It made him wish that he could be braver.

That he had been braver, that day at Daniel’s birthday party, and kissed Daniel back with the strength of all the love that he held for Daniel silently in his heart, too afraid to ever let it spill in fear of hurting him.

But he’d frozen, so petrified but at the same time so blown away by the feeling of Daniel’s lips on his.

Michael had never felt so strongly about someone before; Michael had never been in love, and the feeling threatened to eat him from the inside. It grasped his being in a burning fist, making him incapable of saying what he wanted to say, or doing what he wanted to do.

Of telling Daniel how he really felt.

Sometimes, Michael closed his eyes and let himself melt into the thought, the feeling – the memory of Daniel kissing him.

But he’d open his eyes and the studio would be empty, and Michael would be faced only by the half-finished piece of work sitting in front of him. 

His guardian angel was really beginning to come together, though, now that Michael had figured out how to sculpt their robe to make it look like it was flowing casually. Daniel had offered him a space at the gallery to display his sculpture together with the exhibition for his own final project, but that was before everything had happened and Michael wasn’t sure if the offer still stood.

Nevertheless, this piece of work was up for course credits now, so Michael was even more motivated to finish it.

He had planned on giving faces to his guardian angel and the child they were holding, but since the message he was trying to convey was that everybody had their own guardian angel, he decided to sculpt only vague features into their faces, letting people project whoever their guardian angel might be on the work. 

Michael was in the art studio one rare afternoon when the door opened and more than one set of footsteps entered. Michael turned, hoping with all his heart that one of them belonged to Daniel – but alas, it was only Max and Charles.

“Michael!” the smile on Charles’s face was contagious, so Michael couldn’t help but return it. “Hey, how are you?”

“Hey, guys,” Michael said. He quickly covered his sculpture with its usual grey cloak, internally laughing at himself for expecting Daniel to keep the space in the gallery for him when he didn’t even have the confidence to show his sculpture to one single person. “Daniel’s not here, sorry.”

“We came for you,” Max informed him, the look on his face one of concern. 

“Me?” Michael asked. He watched Charles wander over to the window and examine the plant that he’d given Daniel, then nod in approval at the state of it. “Why?”

“Just for some company,” Charles said vaguely, not mentioning if it was for their company or for Michael’s company. “Dan’s been partying every day, anyway. His batchmates are graduating and he’s been going to all their parties. He doesn’t have time for us.”

Michael found his chest loosening slightly with relief that possibly, Daniel wasn’t purposefully avoiding the art studio because of Michael.

It did make sense when Michael thought about it. Daniel had a ton of friends. Michael was just one of them. He couldn’t have expected Daniel to constantly be hovering around him.

Besides, Daniel probably needed some space from him, anyway.

Michael went over to Charles near the window. “I’ve been taking care of her,” he told Charles, referring to the plant.

Charles looked absolutely delighted at that. “It’s a her?”

Michael nodded. “I named her Athena.”

Charles beamed. He squeezed one of Michael’s arms, like Michael was beginning to notice he liked to do. “Do you wanna come over to our place and chill? You can play with Max on the PS4. And we bought some stuff to cook.”

Max held up a bag of groceries on cue.

“Sure,” Michael said, only because Charles was looking at him like he would break into pieces if Michael said no.

They brought him to their apartment, popping briefly into Lando’s room to say hello before settling in the living room, Max and Charles on the couch and Michael in an armchair. Max put on one of the numerous Call of Duty games that lined the shelf below the TV.

They played the first two rounds as a squad before Max decided it was time to go head to head when Lando joined them. One game against Lando and Max made Michael realise why Charles didn’t even entertain the thought of them playing against each other. 

Michael could see Charles moving around the kitchen to make dinner, and coincidentally it would be Michael’s way out of losing back to back against boys that studied this for their subject. 

“I think I’ll go help Charles out with dinner,” he told Lando and Max.

“Sure. He’s not fond of anyone standing around though, just saying,” Lando seemed to speak from personal experience.

“I’ll take my chances,” Michael smiled before walking to the kitchen to offer his help.

Charles looked zen in the kitchen like Michael had never seen. He was calm and serene, almost floating on air as he moved around rather than the lively flamboyance Michael had always witnessed with him.

“What are you cooking?” 

“Oh, Michael! You scared me,” Charles clutched at his chest so delicately, it looked like he was a housewife in a ‘50s movie. Michael didn’t get a chance to speak as Charles waved it away. “Nevermind, fajitas are on the menu.”

“Smells delicious.” Michael watched Charles add more spices to the bell peppers and chicken.

“Thanks,” Charles smiled so infectiously. “Now, will you help me or just stand around like Lando?”

Michael finally understood what Lando meant. He laughed out loud. “I can make the guac.”

Michael started cutting into the avocados that had been laid out on the counter. Charles asked him about his works, his wildest experience, which made for a surprisingly long list and made them launch into a conversation about the worst things they’d done on a night out. 

Charles then started reiterating about the state of the kitchen when he had moved in and the stories from his first few days in the flat, and how he had tried to play matchmaker with Max and Daniel. He was such a natural storyteller, it made Michael burst into full belly laughter. 

He felt more relaxed than he had in days, and he didn’t know when he had gotten into the habit of relaxing with friends when most of his life had been about survival. 

“I was so silly. But look,” Charles shrugged. “Everything works out if it’s meant to be. Daniel wasn’t.” 

Charles looked so at peace, Michael almost envied it.

“Charles, why did you guys come over today? When you knew Daniel wasn’t there.” Michael’s voice had gone awfully quiet, and he was briefly worried that Charles hadn’t heard him. Every insecurity he had, about friendships, about Daniel and his feelings – they threatened to spill over.

Charles took the chicken off the stove, turning around to face him. 

“Look, I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know what’s up with you and Daniel, or why he left so suddenly from his birthday party the other day, but when I asked him about you to invite you to hang out, his answers all sounded vague. And then he didn’t show up himself either. You’re a good guy, Michael. And Max and I consider you our friend, and as our friend, we just wanted to hang out with you,” Charles shrugged, going back to warm the tortilla wraps. He sounded sincere in his words, even if the tidbit about Daniel made his heart sink.

“Thank you.” And Michael meant it. It felt good to know they weren’t just treating him well as a courtesy to Daniel.

“Hey, I hope you know you’re welcome over for dinner anytime, alright?”

Michael smiled wide. “And here I was thinking you were just obsessed with my biceps.”

Charles laughed, lightly squeezing his arm. “Silly. I don’t need to invite you to dinner for that.” 

Dinner turned out amazing, and Charles’s cooking was close to divine. Max was funny and made Michael feel really welcome. And Lando’s dry humour was just enough to offset Charles’s sweetness. No one made mention of Daniel even though he stayed on Michael’s mind the entire time.

A light-hearted comedy was playing on the TV when Michael asked Charles if he could help himself to a drink from the fridge. Charles decided he’d go with Michael, like they were on some kind of shopping trip instead of just going to the fridge to grab a can.

“Oh, you like these?” Michael pointed at the row of kombucha bottles at the back of the fridge.

“Yeah,” Charles reached for one and handed it to Michael. “Do you? You can have one. Max absolutely hates them.”

Michael loved them, for one, but only as a rare treat, for they weren’t cheap. He hesitated, but Charles shoved it in his hand, so he accepted it. 

There was a fond smile on Charles’s face as he watched Michael open the bottle, like he was happy that they could bond over such a simple thing. Indeed, he told Michael, “I think we have a lot in common.”

“You think so?” Michael smiled.

Charles nodded eagerly, then led Michael into his room by the wrist. He pointed at the pot of peace lilies on the windowsill that was accompanied on either side by a mini cactus and a small jute-wrapped pot of bright purple African violets. 

“You can name them if you want,” Charles said.

Michael just – he couldn’t believe that he’d finally found a group of people who cared for him as genuinely as Max and Charles did. And Daniel. Michael had never once in his life been showered with so much affection as he had been by the three of them in the span of a few months.

Michael was just so afraid that he would destroy all of it, let it slip through his fingers like grains of sand from a sandcastle he crushed himself.

The same way that he seemed to have destroyed what he and Daniel could’ve had.

Charles appeared to sense the shift in Michael’s mood, because he grabbed Michael’s wrist again and sat down with him on the bed. 

There was a half-body mannequin in the corner of the room, covered in a long blue strapless dress that reached the floor. The body of the dress was simple navy blue silk covered all around with a layer of lace in a slightly lighter blue. The skirt was the biggest, most majestic thing Michael had ever seen – it was layered all the way from the waist to the floor with pieces of fabric in every shade of blue imaginable, some in silk, others tulle, velvet, satin, linen, or other material that Michael didn’t even know how to name. Some of the fabric reached the floor, some halfway down the length of the skirt; some of it went all the way around, some halfway around, but most of it hung in small pieces, like the scales of a fish. None of the fabric pieces were the same size, shape, or shade of blue; in fact, all of them looked like they were carelessly ripped into the pieces they were in, but recalling what Daniel had told him about Charles, Michael knew Charles had done no less than to use a pair of scissors to make it look so skilfully irregular. 

“What’s that?” Michael asked. “Did you make it?”

“Oh, I made that for my internship,” Charles said. “It’s inspired by Max. The colour blue reminds me of him.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Everything about the colour blue,” Charles had a small smile on his face now as he gazed at his own piece of work. “Maybe it’s his eyes, I don’t know. But everything about him is blue. The warmest blue.”

Michael thought about the blue bottle flies in Daniel’s mural. It made sense to him now.

“So I went out to find all the cloth I could in every shade of blue,” Charles continued. “Every blue you can imagine, it’s on this dress. It took me a long time, but. I dedicated it to Max. Because without him, I’d have never gotten this internship. He was the one who pushed me to apply, who always pestered me to try harder, to believe in myself more. If he hadn’t, I’d never have gotten this opportunity. And he always listens to me whenever I talk about brands and trends even though I know he doesn’t really care or understand. He really tries his best for me, just like I try my best because of him. So when I had to make a dress, I made this one for him.”

“It’s really beautiful,” Michael told him. “I think you’re really talented.”

“Thank you,” Charles’s smile grew. 

“You’re very lucky to have found each other.”

“I used to think that no one cared about me,” Charles said softly. “That no one would understand me, nor accept me for who I used to be and what I used to do. The mistakes I made. I used to hide myself, my truth, from everyone. But then Max came along.”

Michael turned to him. He was still gazing lovingly at the blue dress.

“Sometimes people come into your life and make you realise that you’re worth more than you ever thought, that you can do anything that you set your mind to,” Charles whispered. “And even though you never asked them to, they prove to you that they will be there by your side, supporting you no matter what you do. Sometimes I think that Max is like my own angel.”

Max appeared in the doorway like Charles’s words had summoned him.

“What’s up?” he smiled first at Michael, before it widened into the most loving grin when he looked at Charles. He sat down next to Charles. “What are you guys talking about?”

“About your dress,” Charles pointed at the mannequin.

Michael hadn’t thought Max could look any more delighted, but he really did right then.

He watched the two of them speak softly to each other, their hands slowly finding their way together, intertwining in the softest, most natural grasp. 

Michael thought about how perfect it looked when his hand was in Daniel’s.

He thought about the warmth that bled through his body when he was holding Daniel’s hand, starting from the point their skin touched; bleeding through his body like it alone could be Michael’s sustenance. 

Michael suddenly yearned for something as pure as what Max and Charles had.

Charles eventually decided to include Michael in their conversation, right as Michael was about to get up and leave the both of them to their little intimate moments.

“Michael might give our plants some names,” he told Max.

“They’re your plants, babe.”

“They’re ours,” Charles declared, turning to Michael. “Michael, what will you name them?”

Michael rejoined their conversation easily, but the meaning of Charles’s words echoed in the crevices of his mind for the rest of the night. 

------

It was just after the last of the light outside vanished, the heat from the summer sun finally sparing the city, that Daniel finally got to the art studio. 

Daniel wasn’t known in his life for his caution, so as he peeked into the studio to make sure it was empty before he entered, it felt odd, and just very slightly like cowardice.

With the mural completed and the baroque painting awaiting one final coat of varnish, Daniel was closer than ever to completing his project, closer than he could fully comprehend. The stained glass door that carried the last piece of his story has been sent to be framed in a Gothic arch. And yet there was so much left to do.

He had to somehow portray the hidden structure he needed to represent Cupid and Psyche meeting before they really knew each other. It was a piece that constituted the second installation in his project. The fact that Daniel was still unsure of what he was going to do about it frustrated him.

He switched on the lights in his section and turned up the airflow before standing in one spot in the middle of the space for what felt like an eternity, the quiet in the room almost taunting him. He didn’t know what he was presenting for an integral part of his project and all he could think about was that he was still bothered about Michael and his absence.

The absence he had sought out so desperately himself when he had started coming here at this hour because he knew Michael would be busy at the tattoo parlour.

Daniel had gone out to attend a party almost every night to ensure he didn’t have to remember what he couldn’t have, instead drowning his conscience in the success of his friends and classmates.

He wasn’t even sure he would be graduating with them. And at the pace things were going currently he wouldn’t know until the day of the exhibit.

He crossed and uncrossed his arms over his chest, the light fixture hanging overhead casting ominous shadows around him. His eyes landed on the sheet that covered Michael’s work in the corner. A rage he wasn’t aware he held fired up in his belly, his steps leading him up to where Michael’s sculpture sat, covered.

He reached for the cover and grabbed a fistful of it. He had respected Michael’s wish for privacy this long but all he felt right then was the need to hurt someone – someone being Michael – just like the universe was hurting him.

The grey dust cover that hid what was underneath was the perfect metaphor of what Michael was – a work of art being concealed from the world with a self serving barrier that stopped anyone from appreciating the hours of work that had gone into moulding it and making it what it was out of mere clay.

Daniel let go of the dust cover and scrubbed his hands over his face, frustration coursing through his body. This wasn’t him. He was angry, yes. But violating Michael’s trust wasn’t the answer.

And that’s when it clicked.

All he needed was a dust cover that hid the two lovers he was trying to portray.

“So, I’m doing the cornershop version of Corradini’s Modesty. But it's not modest, they're courting under the sheet,” he spoke aloud in the emptiness of the studio, his hands on his hips. It didn’t sound any less ridiculous than the rest of his ideas, so he got moving.

Daniel walked around the studio like a man on a mission, gathering every piece of styrofoam sheet in the area along with a small tub of modelling clay. He found a white piece of fabric folded carefully in the back of the cupboard and pulled it out.

He dragged out a sculpture base that stood next to Michael’s corner and – god! Everything reminded him of Michael, and Daniel needed to get the fuck over it and move on like what they had shared was nothing but a one night stand. Just like the others.

But it wasn’t true. There were feelings involved. His feelings. And Michael’s feelings that he kept running away from. This man was driving Daniel mad and he would gladly accept it if it meant Michael would allow himself to be loved.

Daniel started stacking the styrofoam sheets atop one another, laying thick layers of glue until it had the height he needed. He envisioned how the bodies would hold onto one another, and started trimming the two figures hugging one another.

The hours turned and it was past midnight when he had his rough base sculpted out. Daniel opened a tub of Magic-Sculpt that he smeared liberally over the styrofoam base, and crossed his fingers to whatever entity watched over them that it didn’t bend or topple over. If this didn’t work out, he wouldn’t have time to finish an actual sculpture from scratch.

Daniel was already on his second energy drink and he had to give up when he was slathering the legs up in modeling clay and his hands started shaking.

Maybe if he just rested a little. Daniel sat back down on the seat at his workbench and set a timer for half an hour. He just needed a little nap.  

*

Daniel woke up with a start, the morning light seeping into the room hurting his eyes. His neck felt awfully stiff and his forearm was numb, but that had to be the best sleep he’d had. Daniel stretched his arms above his head, his body uncoiling like a cat’s. 

He checked the time and it was just past six in the morning. Hoping to avoid a repeat performance of his walk of shame when his mentor had walked in on him, or worse, having Michael see him in this state, Daniel got up. He grabbed his messenger bag that he’d dropped in a corner of the room. He stopped in front of Michael’s covered sculpture piece once more. All it did was leave him with a sense of forlornness and dejection.

He walked out of the studio without turning back.

------

Michael finally gathered enough courage to drop by Daniel’s mural one morning after his gym session. 

He wasn’t sure why he got himself two coffees on his way there, but he suspected that it was the tiniest flame of hope that remained in his heart, the hope that he would see Daniel there.

Every cell in Michael’s body missed Daniel and craved Daniel’s presence. Every fiber of Michael seemed to be stretched in Daniel’s direction. And the very foundation of Michael’s soul threatened to collapse if he had to go another day without knowing how Daniel was.

The mural looked like it had been completed for a while, the little tent already stowed away and Daniel’s supplies long gone. It made the otherwise drab alley pop with its bright colours, but all Michael could focus on was Daniel, sitting on the ground near the middle of the wall, in front of the figure of Psyche and Michael’s Christmas beetle sitting next to her.

He turned when Michael approached, softness appearing in his golden brown eyes as he spotted Michael before he blinked it away. 

Michael sat down next to him and handed him the extra coffee. If Daniel wondered why there was a cup for him, he didn’t bother to ask. 

“Hey, Dan,” Michael said softly.

“Hey.”

They sat silently. Michael watched the green paint on the Christmas beetle reflect the sunlight. He marvelled again at all the details Daniel managed to put in, from the individual grains the characters were sorting, in dark reds, browns, and whites, down to the shades of the background, in its streaks of different greens and bronzes and greys.

Daniel was so smart, so talented, so kind, and above all so drop-dead gorgeous that Michael didn’t know what strings fate had pulled for them to meet.

But his past had taken over the role as Michael’s puppet master, and those strings were now about to go slack, replaced by the much thicker rope of all of Michael’s demons.

“It looks great,” Michael’s voice seemed to pierce the tense air between them like a knife.

“Thank you,” Daniel said, a hint of a smile in his voice. “And thanks for helping me out.”

“Are you coming by the studio today?” Michael asked.

“My parents are in town. I’m meeting them for lunch and we’ll have a day out,” Daniel said. He played with the lid of his coffee cup for a while before continuing, “My mom, she...she really wants to meet you. Do you...wanna come with us?”

Michael didn’t have the time nor the mental capacity to process that Daniel had told his mom so much about Michael that she now wanted to meet him. He thought to say no, thinking that he wouldn’t belong. He willed himself to want to say no. 

But he turned to Daniel and Daniel was looking at him so earnestly, and Michael couldn’t think of ever wanting to disappoint anyone’s mom, so he said, “Okay.”

Daniel’s smile was visible now, the familiar upturn of his rosy lips that Michael had so dearly missed. “Great,” he whispered.

They sat there quietly until the sun was directly above them, signalling for them to leave for lunch. Being around Daniel was...suffocating, crushing Michael’s chest both with all the unspoken words between them and the deeper than imaginable feelings Michael had for him. 

They made their way into town, where Daniel’s parents met them at a fish and chips shop near the river. Daniel introduced them as Joe and Grace, and they greeted Michael with big, warm smiles.

Lunch went along pretty smoothly; Daniel kept his parents suitably entertained, but at the same time engaged Michael in all their conversations. He still seemed a little cold to Michael, but at least he kept it together in front of his parents. 

Michael had only known his own father for less than ten years, but he remembered enough to know that Daniel's dad reminded him of his own. 

Michael sat next to Daniel and across from Grace. She kept watching Michael, though she never really spoke to him, like she was just happy that he'd turned up. Michael wondered why she'd wanted so badly to meet him. 

She kept scooping calamari onto Michael's plate even though Michael didn't ask for it, as if she could tell that Michael had been eyeing the dish the whole afternoon but wasn't comfortable enough to reach for it. 

"So I hear you're part of Dan's exhibition?" were the first words Grace spoke directly to Michael. 

Michael smiled. She had a kind look in her eyes. "Yeah, I was...Dan photographed me."

"It's more than that. He helped me a lot with all the elements," Daniel's voice was soft. "He's my inspir– anyway…"

Michael willed him to continue. Or at least say it again.

He was looking down at his empty plate when Michael turned to him, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. His gaze darted towards Michael but quickly back to his plate when he noticed Michael looking. 

"I'm just glad I could help," Michael eventually said before the silence could turn awkward. 

Daniel cleared his throat, then stretched his left arm across the table. "Michael did these for me," he said, pointing at his rose tattoo, then the baby cupid. 

"They're really nice. Do you like to do art, too?" Joe asked. 

"He does. He made a sculpture, and it's gonna have its own space in the gallery, too," Daniel said. 

So at least Michael finally had an answer to that question that was nagging in the back of his mind. 

And just like that, the conversation went back to normal. Michael could tell that Daniel had a lot to say about Michael; he could tell that Daniel tried his hardest to stop himself from speaking anymore on behalf of Michael, like he had a ton to tell his parents about him but didn't want to completely erase Michael's presence. 

Michael let him speak. He felt like Daniel knew him better than he knew himself. So Daniel had all the right to do that. 

They left the restaurant with happy tummies, and started their walk along the river. Daniel walked ahead with Joe, but for some reason Grace stuck behind with Michael. 

"I'm taking dad to look at some fishing stuff," Daniel turned back to tell his mom. "You stick with Michael, alright? He knows his way around. We'll circle back."

Michael watched as they disappeared further down the street, Daniel's excited bounding figure prominent among all the other bodies. 

"How are you doing?" Grace asked after they'd been walking quietly for a while. 

"I'm doing okay," Michael said. Well, he was...as okay as he could be, given the circumstances. "How are you finding the city?"

"It's good. Weather's good."

"It's not always this good," Michael informed her. 

Grace's laugh was as gentle and kind as her eyes. She gave Michael's forearm a little squeeze. "I'm so glad you could join us. Daniel's told me so much about you."

"He has?"

“When Daniel first called me to tell me about you, he was the happiest I’d ever heard him,” Grace told Michael. “And every call after that, he talked about you. Never got tired. Never stopped. Never ran out of things to say about you.”

“Yeah?” Michael smiled. He didn’t think he’d ever run out of things to say about Daniel, either, if he had someone to tell. But he didn’t, so the thoughts and stories ran over and over in his head, his source of solace through tough days.

Michael wondered if Daniel had told her about Michael’s childhood.

He saw the answer in Grace’s eyes, full of concern as Michael looked up to meet them.

“Daniel has loved many things in his life. Many people,” Grace said, her eyes keen. It was like someone in heaven had copied her exact eyes onto Daniel’s face when he was born. “But he’s never truly been in love with anyone. Not until he met you.” 

Michael had to look back on the ground then or he would start crying.

“I understand why he is,” Grace continued. “And I understand why you won’t let him. Why you won’t let yourself. But just because you grew up without love doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve it. It just means that one person you needed it from didn’t give it to you. And I know, I understand that it has scarred you for life. But you got out of there, and we are so, so proud of you. You did nothing wrong; you’ve done nothing to deserve what she did to you. What you deserve is all the love and acceptance from everyone who’s ever wanted to give it to you, everyone who wants to give it to you. What you deserve is to feel – it’s to let yourself feel without being so afraid that you’re going to be punished. You deserve all the love we can give to you. Not because we want to make up for what you went through, but because...we just love you.”

The concept of anyone ever loving Michael just because they loved him was...so foreign to Michael. 

But he guessed that the way he grew up, the things that were done to him, they were so beyond reason that they’d shaped Michael to always find a reason for everything everyone tried to do for him.

Even if he always interpreted that reason as pity.

And that would turn out to be his downfall.

“All I want to say is, I know we don’t get to choose our parents. And we don’t really get to choose our children. But if I ever had the chance, I would choose you to be my son,” Grace took Michael’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You’re my son now too, Michael.”

“Thank you,” Michael whispered. He started to move in for a hug but wasn’t sure if it was appropriate. “Can I…?”

Grace was small, but her hug was the tightest, warmest thing Michael had ever experienced.

Maybe if his mom had loved him this way, Michael would’ve understood it.

But it didn’t matter now.

“I know – we know that no one can change your past,” Grace whispered. “But what we want to do is be part of your present, and your future. And I’m so happy that I got to meet you today, Michael.”

“Thank you,” Michael said again, willing his tears not to plop onto her shoulder. “Thank you so much. I’m so happy that I got to meet you, too.”

“Okay now,” Grace was smiling as she pulled away, thumbs instinctively reaching for Michael’s cheeks to wipe his tears. They were stopped a few shopfronts away from an ice cream shop, which Grace pointed at. “Do you want some ice cream?”

The innocence of that statement almost made Michael start crying again; the memory that he had never once been asked that by his mom. The realisation that within a couple of hours of meeting Grace, she had made Michael understand that this was what having a mother felt like.

They met Daniel and Joe, who were coming out of the ice cream shop, each holding two cones of ice cream. Joe handed one to Grace, and Daniel.

Daniel had gotten one for Michael, a single large scoop of Michael’s favourite rose flavour.

His hand brushed against Michael’s as he handed him the cone, the warmth in his touch almost enough to melt the ice cream in Michael’s hand.

He fell into step next to Michael as they walked behind his parents. “I don’t know what you talked about, but I hope she wasn’t too...overwhelming,” he told Michael.

Michael shook his head. She was, but – not in the way Daniel was thinking. She was overwhelming in a way that calmed Michael’s roaring heart.

Being around Daniel wasn’t so suffocating anymore.

"Hey, Michael," Daniel said softly. 

The sound of Michael's name rolling on Daniel's tongue was so...soothing. 

"Yeah?"

"So I was picking photos for the Cupid reveal," Daniel started slowly, like he wasn't sure how Michael would react. "And there are a few where your –" Daniel paused to gesture at his own thigh, at the same area where Michael's scar sat on his thigh. "– scar, it's...it can be seen."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Michael said. "I should've covered it better. Can you edit it out?"

Daniel shook his head. He was still avoiding Michael's eyes. "I just – I wanted to ask you if I could use a couple of them? It could be like, where Cupid's arrow hit him? It's totally okay if you don't want me to use them, I just thought it'll be cool. But I can delete them. Or edit it out."

He was rambling again, like he did whenever he was nervous asking Michael for something, and Michael thought it was honestly the most adorable thing. 

"Use it," he told Daniel. "I think it'd be cool, too."

"Really?" Daniel's smile put that afternoon's scorching sun to shame. "Thank you. Michael. Thanks so much."

"It's no problem."

The smile remained on Daniel's face as he kept step with Michael, and for a few minutes, it was as if everything had gone back to normal between them. 

Daniel eventually caught up with his parents again. Michael stayed behind the three of them, watching Daniel hook his arms in theirs as he spoke excitedly. He kept pestering them to take photos in random places, and Michael watched as he skilfully framed the photos just like he'd done for Michael. The three of them laughed heartily and genuinely, and it was such a heartwarming sight for Michael to witness.

Daniel occasionally turned around to see how Michael was doing, and he looked relieved whenever he saw that Michael was still there. 

Michael thought about what Charles had said about Max being his own angel. 

Maybe Michael had his own angel, too, and it was Daniel. 

Michael was hit by a sudden bout of inspiration. 

"Dan," he called, as Daniel skipped along behind his parents. Daniel stopped curiously. "Hey. I think I'll go back to the studio."

"Why?" Daniel asked. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I –" Michael was momentarily stunned by the concern in Daniel's soft eyes, his breath catching in his throat. "I have...to do something."

"We're going for dinner soon. Have dinner first."

Michael shook his head. He reached out to grasp Daniel's arm, although something made him hesitate, his hand hovering over Daniel's bicep. When Daniel didn't dodge or recoil, Michael sought just enough courage to cover the rest of the distance. 

"I'll...see you around?" Michael said. 

Daniel nodded. The smile on his face was hesitant, but not a bit less warm than Michael remembered. 

Grace gave him another hug before he left, as if she was trying to put all of Michael's pieces back together. 

Michael thought that it might actually work. 

He went back to the studio and pulled the cover off his guardian angel. It really was already complete, but Michael got some clay and water and started working on the wings again, finding his fingers moving on autopilot, fuelled by his sudden vision and motivation.

It was already dark outside when Michael remembered to take a breath. He got up from his stool and turned on more lights. The clay was turning a lighter grey as it dried, and Michael was satisfied at the little details he'd managed to put in that evening. He had already spent way too much time on the wings alone, but now he felt that his work of art finally had meaning. 

Michael sat by the window, watching the little plant that Daniel had entrusted to him. 

The entire studio screamed Daniel, even if he wasn't there. Especially because he wasn't there. Since the first day Michael had been there, it had felt the same way. 

This time, Michael embraced it. 

He closed his eyes and let it seep into his skin; he let Daniel seep into his skin, let himself feel thoroughly his love for Daniel for the first time. 

Despite having already known for so long, the feeling was so new to Michael, so surreal. The thought that he could love someone as much as he loved Daniel. 

He knew whatever they could've had between them had turned somewhat sour over the past weeks. He didn't know if Daniel still felt the same way about him as he had tried to tell Michael before Michael had stopped him mid-sentence. 

But for once in his life, Michael didn't let himself worry. Not about whether Daniel still loved him. Not about whether he would deserve it.

All he could feel in his heart was how much Daniel meant to him.

Michael smiled and let himself feel. 

------

Dinner with his parents went well, mostly centred around all the things Daniel had missed back home. 

His dad had commented on how he thought Michael was a ‘great lad’. His mother, however, was a whole different story. She kept throwing Daniel loaded and meaningful looks all night, pursing her lips the way mothers did, and sighing the way mothers tended to.

The moment his dad left the table to go to the loo, Daniel couldn’t hold back.

“What is it, mum? You’ve been doing this since Michael left.”

“Daniel,” her voice was calm, and he knew her words would be laced with years of experience. “When you told me you realised Michael wasn’t interested in you, I had assumed it was a classic case of misunderstanding on your part initially, and you coming to your senses later. We all know how you tend to get attached.”

“Gee, thanks,” Daniel scoffed.

She waved her hand as she spoke. “Don’t take offence, darling.” 

Daniel sighed. He was acting sullen but they both knew Grace wasn’t being unkind. It was the truth – he had just misunderstood Michael being his friend and their one off thing for more than it was. “I’m not.” 

“Good. Well, I’ve met Michael now. And I can tell you that that boy is head over heels in love with you.”

Daniel’s mouth hung open. No. He had only just given up on the idea and come to terms with this whole thing being a mistake. If the brain numbing alcohol fest all summer long and throwing himself into work at odd hours had only kept him distracted and made him realise he still wanted Michael for a friend, his mother wasn’t allowed to undo that with one meeting and one statement.

“No. Don’t do this, mom. I told you it meant nothing.”

“Oh, don’t pretend with me, Daniel. Don’t tell me you asked him to come with us today just for the sake of it. I haven’t heard of, or seen any of the men or women you have dated since you moved away. You’re not over him if you’re bringing him to see us. Don’t tell me you avoided him for two months because it meant nothing.” His mother sipped at the last of her drink.

Daniel’s jaw clicked. He felt like his heart was being opened and resealed over and over again. “Fine. I’ve avoided him for close to two months because it meant something to me, but I’m over it. And he was never into it.”

“Danny,” Daniel’s heart sunk at the soft nickname that his mother had seldom used since his primary school days. “He looks at you exactly how you look at him when the both of you think no one will notice. Trust me. He’s been through way too much to meet a friend’s parents just because the friend said so.”

Daniel swallowed harshly, looking down at the table instead of his mother’s searching gaze.

He was saved from giving an answer when his father returned to the table, unaware of the heaviness that had settled over Daniel. His parents carried the conversation without him after that, leaving him to his thoughts.

They took a cab to his parents’ hotel building, and stood in front of the main entrance. 

“We’ll see you on the weekend then, eh?” Joe asked, his ever jovial smile present. 

Daniel nodded, giving Joe his best smile. His father gave him a solid hug before letting him go.

Grace held him in her embrace much longer, letting him go only to hold onto his hands. 

“Trust me, darling. He doesn’t want you to let go. And I know neither do you. So just give it a thought, okay? One last chance,” Grace nodded, and Daniel couldn’t help but sigh.

“I’ll see.”

“Okay. You know we love you.”

That, Daniel had full faith in. His mother was a caring and shrewd woman. If he gave anyone’s advice regard, it was hers.

Daniel paid the cabbie and let him go. His father looked confused.

“I’ll walk back to my place,” Daniel said, giving Joe a reassuring smile that spoke nothing of the storm that brewed within him. He needed to clear his head and gather his thoughts. 

Daniel breathed in the warm air as he headed in the direction of his apartment, letting it fill his lungs. His fingers brushed the ink that decorated the skin under his thumb, right next to his snuffbox where the rose rested, tracing every curve and crevice where the needle had marked. His eyes closed involuntarily as the memory flooded his consciousness. 

His gaze fell on his forearm next, the image of the cherub cupid bringing a reflexive smile to his face. For everything he had thought this tattoo was meant to signify, all it reminded Daniel of was Michael.

He tried to process his day. When Michael had joined him that morning, Daniel’s heart had fluttered just like it had every single time since he had realised he was in love. Nothing had changed. He still felt that way and he was still the same naive boy that took Michael’s interest for love, even though Michael had repeatedly tried to tell him that it wasn’t.

But then why today, when Michael spoke to him, sat next to him, and laughed with his family or held his arm...all Daniel saw in Michael’s eyes was a call to him? The same call his mother had seen too, apparently.

On the other hand, if he was wrong, and he tried again, Daniel wasn’t sure if his heart could bear the weight of a resounding no. Or the shame that would come with it and how...if Michael didn't feel the same, Daniel would just drive him away forever and lose his friendship too.

Daniel headed straight for the kitchen when he arrived at the flat, grabbing a cheap bottle of red, the last of their limited alcohol selection. He headed for his room, only waving at his flatmates who were sitting in the common room.

Daniel poured himself a glass of wine and settled down in his favourite corner of the room. He looked at the moodboard that sat across the room. How it had all just been a story. An idea he had poured over in the library and visualised in his mind’s eye. Maybe if he had chosen a better god instead of the God of Love. The God of Desire. Maybe if he hadn’t chosen Eros, maybe if he had picked Eros’s brother Anteros, the God of reciprocated love…Daniel shook the thought. He didn’t really believe in all of this.

He had all his pieces ready to go, only a few days until they would be displayed for all of his guests to see.

Daniel grabbed a piece of paper and pressed it against a large sketchpad in his lap. He uncapped the pen in his hand, twisting it between his thumb and two fingers.

He took a big gulp of his drink before putting the glass back down.

Daniel put pen to paper and let his thoughts bleed out with the ink that seemed to run free. It took him all night to quell the raging tempest within, scratching out more words than what he put down in his first draft. He put down the final version on a fresh paper, his eyes scanning it over and over, looking for imperfections or errors.

He swirled the last of the wine in its cheap bottle, tipping out what was left into his oversized stem glass.

His eyes had been prickling over since he had set out with this, no plan in mind. He scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. Once, twice and over and over until he felt the tears on his palms and tracking down his face. Daniel rested his head back against the cool wall, breath short and uncomfortable.

It had drained him. He left the paper that was now blotched with tears, dragging his weary body to bed.

Maybe one last chance was what they needed. Maybe. Daniel was too exhausted to decide and a deep slumber took him in its wings.

------

The morning of Daniel’s exhibition, Michael woke up feeling uncharacteristically galvanized. 

He’d brought his sculpture to the exhibition hall the previous day, still covered in its cloak. Daniel had been too busy guiding contractors around and making sure none of his pieces broke to pay Michael too much attention, but. 

Just watching Daniel from afar, just having Daniel in his life – it made Michael so happy.

Michael stood by his window for a while, looking at the big white clouds that covered the otherwise azure blue sky. 

He really had never been this excited to face any day before Daniel had appeared in his life.

He just hoped that it wasn’t too late.

A short workout in his room would have to replace Michael’s visit to the gym that morning, with Milo his ever helpful assistant hovering around him. Michael fed him, then rummaged in his wardrobe until he found something nice to wear. He threw on a light blue button up shirt, with half sleeves that were rolled up. It sat nicely on his torso, not too fitted and not too loose. Michael put on a pair of brown pants, his Sunday best, and paired the outfit with a sleek brown boot. He hoped he wasn't overdressed, but he brought along a hooded jacket in case it was cold at the venue.

Daniel wasn’t at the coffee shop for his morning shift when Michael dropped by for breakfast, given his other, bigger responsibilities that day, and even though Oliver complimented Michael’s outfit, Michael couldn’t help but be reminded of how different mornings were without Daniel.

Daniel was already at the exhibition hall when Michael got there, standing alone in the middle of the room, looking nervous. His parents were in a corner speaking to his advisor. 

The pieces of his project surrounded him, like he was the main focus instead of the story they told. The room wasn’t too big, and longer than it was wide; the off-white lighting cast a warm glow on everything. There was a sort of figure hidden under a cloak that Michael hadn’t seen Daniel work on before – Michael attributed it to the odd hours they’d both been working in order to avoid each other. 

Daniel stood next to it, the smallest of smiles hanging on his face as Michael approached to hand him the extra coffee and muffin he had in h is hands. There was a white strip taped to his arm below the Cupid tattoo, printed with the words ‘1: First Skin.’

Michael looked around; each portion of the exhibit had the same white tape with its number in sequence, and a title.

“Thank you, but I’m not very hungry,” Daniel said, looking at the coffee and muffin Michael held.

“You’ll have to eat something eventually,” Michael told him.

Daniel sighed and took the breakfast Michael was pushing into his hands without a word. Michael watched as he crossed the room and put them down next to his backpack.

He cleared his throat as he returned to his place next to Michael, but besides that, he still didn’t say anything. And he seemed to be actively avoiding Michael’s gaze.

All the excitement Michael had woken up with suddenly drained right out of him. 

“Good luck,” Michael told him softly. “I...thanks for leaving me a space.”

Daniel finally smiled at him then, his eyes moving up to meet Michael’s. They looked...tense. Like Daniel was afraid.

“Thank you,” he whispered, gesturing vaguely around him. “This would...it’d be nothing without you.”

“You’ll go look at my thing when you have a moment, yeah?” Michael asked. “I’d like you to see it now.”

Daniel nodded. The trepidation in his gaze didn’t go away.

He looked so thoroughly exhausted. Exhausted from carrying the weight of this entire project on his two shoulders. Michael consoled himself by reasoning that Daniel’s fatigue was the only reason he was acting so withdrawn towards Michael, and not because he was...tired of Michael. Sick of Michael, like he couldn’t stand the thought of him, much less being around him.

They stood, the silence hanging awkwardly between them, until Daniel’s friends were the first guests to appear and Daniel practically ran all the way over to them with the brightest smile Michael had seen all morning.

Michael hung back, watching as Charles and Max bombarded Daniel with hugs and loud chatter, while Lando stayed back with Carla. Daniel started personally taking them around the exhibition, but was interrupted by his friends from the football team, all of them rowdily trying to get through the door at once, some of them with their partners, undoubtedly only dragged along to give Daniel some extra foot traffic. 

Michael’s sculpture sat at the end of the room against the white wall, on its own pedestal, lit up by a single warm spotlight. It was walled off with a purple velvet rope. It helped distinguish his piece from Daniel’s series that was barriered with red velvet rope between stanchions. Michael knew it wouldn’t get much attention, but he stood by it, suddenly without Daniel to belong with.

Charles was the first to spot him, once Daniel had left them to greet even more friends. He dragged Max excitedly by the hand until he got to Michael and stopped in front of him, his hands going straight for Michael’s biceps once he let go of Max. 

“Michael!” he greeted with his characteristic bubbly grin.

“Hey, Charles,” Michael couldn’t help but smile. “Max, hi.”

Max smiled right back at him. It surprised Michael a little, that they were so happy to see him. Despite what Charles had told Michael about him being their friend, Michael had always assumed that since they’d been Daniel’s friends first, that they would be strictly on Daniel’s side in this weird breakup limbo they were dancing in. Especially Max, who seemed to be really close to Daniel in a way that puzzled Michael.

“Is this your piece?” Max asked, pointing at the sculpture behind Michael, then stepping closer to it. “It looks pretty cool.”

Michael nodded. “Thanks.”

“What is it about?” Charles asked.

“It’s an angel,” Michael started softly, needing to slowly find the confidence to describe his ideas. “A guardian angel. I...I’ve been looking for one my whole life. So I thought that my first piece of art would be one, in the hopes that I’ll find them. The angel, it has no face, because when you see it, I want you to imagine your own angel. And you’re the child they’re holding and protecting.”

Charles smiled at him, then turned to Max, his smile bursting wider when he saw Max already looking at him. 

“It really works,” Charles told Michael. “You really got the message across, that we all have our own guardian angel.”

“And you named him Daniel?” Max asked. Michael realised he was reading the little label card next to the angel, with the name of the artwork printed on it in gold cursive. “That’s...really nice, Michael.”

“Yeah, that’s lovely,” Charles agreed, his eager green eyes scanning Michael’s face again. “That your guardian angel is Daniel.”

Michael dipped his head in what he hoped could pass off as a nod. He choked up at the thought that his guardian angel was on the verge of flying away with the wings Michael had carved for him with his own hands.

Charles seemed to notice that Michael didn’t want to talk about it; that Michael was trying his hardest to hold in his tears. “C’mon, take us around,” he urged, grabbing Michael’s wrist. “Tell us what it’s all about.”

Daniel was somewhere milling in the growing crowd, so Michael decided he’d take Max and Charles around. He started at the unknown figure under the cloak, which was labeled ‘2: Cupido e Psiche.’

“How much do you guys know about his project?” Michael asked.

Max seemed to know more, having helped Daniel with part of it. Charles knew less, but it was enough. Michael started off by describing the cherub on Daniel’s arm, which represented Cupid, and how his bow came without a string because of the lack of meaning of modern relationships, and the missing arrow representing Cupid striking himself.

The cloaked figure, from what Michael could make out of it and what he remembered Daniel telling him while he was getting tattooed, appeared to represent Cupid and Psyche courting while Cupid’s identity remained unknown to Psyche. Michael could make out the vague shapes of bodies under the sheet, holding each other.

It did successfully befuddle him, just like Daniel had intended it to do.

The modern visual art component came next, the pattern emerging from a small light projector, expanding and contracting and throbbing against a white screen in all its seductive colours and shapes. It represented the mysteriousness of Cupid and Psyche having sex in the dark. 3: Visions of Lust.

Three rows of identically sized photographs adorned the plain wall next to it – the photos from Michael’s photoshoot. The first row started off cryptically, with black and white versions of the close up photos they’d taken under the glow of the lone studio light in Daniel’s bedroom. Michael’s cheekbones, the line of his jaw. The shadow of his eyelashes, cast long down his cheeks with the angle of the light. The soft filtering of light through his hair. The brightness bouncing off the top of his collarbones. His abdomen. The veins on the back of his hand, caressing the shadows of his knuckles. The fabric of Cupid’s outfit, covering half of the scar visible on his thigh. The carvings on the skilfully created greaves.

The photos slowly brightened up in the second row, composed of images from the meadow. The colours faded in slowly – Michael remembered when Daniel had fretted over him completely blending into his surroundings, but he’d worked around it, using the photos as a comfortable gradient between mystery and disclosure. Michael’s figure was partly hidden behind the tall grass of the meadow, some of his features obscured. Some of the photos were taken closer, some further away, but looking at them as a whole, there was no doubt that Cupid was who they were portraying.

The last row of photos were those taken in the greener side of the meadow, by the stream. They were brighter, with the colours of the grass, the stream, and the sky popping out. Michael was in plain sight now, his identity fully revealed. He sat on a rock, clutching his bow, the glitter in his hair catching the sunlight naturally just like Charles had told him it would. The last few photos were taken closer and closer to Michael, and in the very last one, he was smiling right at the camera, bow held over his visible scar, framing it but not covering it. 

Michael felt oddly comfortable with the photos, even though he had imagined them making him shy when he had thought about himself being intimately displayed for the world to see. Maybe it was the fact that Daniel had taken them that made it strangely…pleasant.

In the bottom corner, the label read, 4: Cupid Revealed; A Series (2019).

“You look really nice,” Charles told Michael.

“Thanks,” Michael smiled. “But all the credit goes to Dan.”

Max smiled knowingly. Michael decided to move on.

The baroque painting looked bigger in the exhibition space than it did in the art studio. It still stood only about a foot above them all, but it felt all-consuming, like the characters existed in the same plane as them. Aphrodite stood in the middle, towering over all else, reminding Michael of all the things he didn’t let himself have. She was caked in fury, her crown of impasto flowers doing close to nothing to soften it. Around her there was chaos – the background spoke its own story, in black but with thick, angry brown strokes all across. Various characters littered the ground below her, clawing at each other, fighting with themselves and with everyone else. The painting on their clothing was close to perfection, done by Daniel’s talented hand. Small pops of bright colour guided their eyes around to take in all the well thought out details. Next to it read, 5: Chaos on Earth (Oil on canvas).

Looking at the painting for too long brought Michael back to the night of passion he’d spent with Daniel, at Aphrodite’s feet, so Michael had to look away.

He turned to Charles standing next to him, a shadow in his eyes that Michael was all too familiar with. He imagined it reminded everyone of their own demons, and not just himself.

The flow of the gallery took them outside next, to the back of the building where the mural was painted. Psyche sat on the ground, sorting grains for Aphrodite by the crack of dawn in exchange for a pathetic serving of sustenance, as her fleet of insect friends helped her. Its contemporary style was a stark contrast from the dark painting that came right before it. The sticker on the wall was right by the doorway, and it was even carelessly painted over with streaks of green and brown to blend in slightly with the background. It said, 6: Psyche’s Little Helpers.

It was definitely Charles’s favourite part of the whole thing, especially when Michael explained that all of Daniel’s friends and family were represented differently. He ran up and down the length of it picking out all the ladybugs, completely ignoring everybody else who was trying to look at it. Then he insisted on taking a photo with it, and Michael was nowhere near as good a photographer as any one of these kids were, so he left Max to it.

“Oh, what a pity, it’s getting gloomy,” Charles sighed dramatically, looking up at the sky, which was now completely cloudy, the last of the blue having disappeared. “This would’ve looked so nice against a blue sky. But it’s okay. It does pop out against the white sky, too. Babe, take another one. My clothes are a little off.”

Charles adjusted the robe he had on, a double backed salmon piece in embroidered chiffon with a plain black linen two piece underneath showing through the casually opened front, as Michael had heard him describe impatiently to Max earlier when Max had simply called it his ‘shrug.’ Michael watched as Max snapped away until Charles was contented he had something to post on Instagram. And then Michael got dragged in to take a photo, anyway, because Charles wanted a photo with Max.

The story took them back inside to the very last part of the tale, which was the rose garden door made out of stained glass, representing Cupid and Psyche’s eventual reunion, endorsed by Zeus. It stood elegantly, the red and green of the roses standing out starkly against the creamy background. Two central figures represented them in opaque black glass, to highlight them and represent Psyche’s newfound immortality. They were surrounded by smaller figures in black translucent glass to represent the Gods in attendance for their reunion. Daniel had used pieces of pearlescent and spectral glass of various shades of pinks and reds and every shade of green; they swirled to form the climbing roses so cleverly, it held Michael encaptured.

Michael noticed the tag the painting had, on which was printed, 8: Love Immortalised.

He looked around for the missing seventh piece, but he didn’t spot anything that could fill the void. Besides, Michael didn’t recall any other piece, unless Daniel had been working on one behind his back again. There was no other space the little hall held that could hide any piece, either. And if anyone else had noticed, they didn’t bring it up, so Michael assumed it was just mislabeled. 

The three of them stood silently in front of the stained glass door for a few moments, taking a while to fully digest the impact of the story Daniel so successfully told with his art. It was – it really was so stunning now that Michael saw it all together in its full glory, each element represented so uniquely but all of it coming together seamlessly.

“It’s amazing, right?” Michael whispered.

Charles nodded. “It really is. Everything looks so great.”

Michael stuck with the two of them as they wandered around, taking closer looks at some of the exhibits and discovering some more details they hadn’t noticed earlier. He saw Daniel bringing different groups around, their paths occasionally crossing, but never long enough for Daniel to pay them much attention. 

Daniel didn’t step close to Michael’s sculpture. He barely looked at Michael, like he simply didn’t have the headspace.

As they walked through the exhibition, Michael was constantly reminded of everything they did together; all the photos, the painting, the sculpting, the planning and designing – all the memories they had together, laughing and creating. 

All the things they shared.

All the things they could’ve had.

As the day passed, Michael could physically feel Daniel slipping further and further out of his grasp.

The heaviness of that thought, of the air around him, made Michael forget how to breathe. He closed his eyes and tried, but the cold air rushing into his lungs only made him nauseous.

It was drizzling slightly when Michael stepped outside, so he put his jacket on and pulled the hood over his head. He just needed to breathe. He needed to breathe, and he needed to stop thinking about Daniel, and he’d be fine.

But how could he stop thinking about the one person who’d brought endless joy into Michael’s life ever since the very first day he’d stepped into it?

How could he stop thinking about the one person that made Michael’s world scream in technicolour, instead of the drab grey that it used to be in?

Michael had pushed him away, made him wait for no other reason than what he was beginning to realise was nothing more than his own selfishness, and now, he had well and truly lost the love of his life. 

He had made Daniel think that he didn't love him, when in fact he made Michael feel a kind of love that he had never experienced. A kind of love so strong, it took Michael's breath away every time. 

He said it was for Daniel, that it was so he wouldn't hurt Daniel by being unworthy, but – by pushing Daniel away like that, Michael had inadvertently hurt him even more. 

Michael might’ve finally decided to allow himself to feel, but it was too late. Now, Daniel was undoubtedly, irreversibly out of it.

Michael just walked and walked, the only thing his body knew how to do right then. He walked in a straight line along the streets until he encountered a warm, cosy-looking coffeeshop that had a bookstore in the back. It called out to Michael, so he stepped inside, hoping for some kind of distraction. 

He really could get lost among the bookshelves in the back, but the lure of the scent of coffee pulled him to examine the menu. He eventually settled on a warm cappuccino, but as he stuck his hands into the pockets of his jacket to look for some money, he found a different kind of paper.

Michael took it out and unfolded it. 

It was unmistakably Daniel’s handwriting, long and scrawly but simply a work of art on its own. The piece of paper was heavily creased, like it’d been folded and unfolded multiple times. It was hardened and slightly yellowed in some spots, as if someone had cried over it.

Michael’s heart was beating so loudly, it robbed him of the ability to focus. He found a quiet corner of the coffeeshop and pressed his head against the wall, blinking to calm himself down.

The growing sound of raindrops battering the window calmed Michael. He took a few deep breaths, then forced himself to stand upright and process the written words.

To me,

You were once a a mere mortal hew, 

With some sharp edges,

 and softer strokes too.

Somewhere, somehow, in my perturbed being,

You became a paragon of desirability

 And beauty.

Animated, 

You suddenly had so much life confined within you,

I was thankful for the feet that carried you.

You said you were once a burnt offering, a mere fatality 

That your grief softened you.

But your toiling heart grew and strengthened too

That deity that made you, how did they let go of you?

Didn’t they see the beauty in you?

Then when I needed you to open up like the rising sea

And you knew, 

and I knew,

The stars nodded, and the roses agreed

For the earth was ready for you to be free, 

In her arms and in mine,

Without question or uncertainty.

But the consciousness of the world isn’t all that long drawn,

And the answers may be wrung out dry, and exhaustively;

‘To love and be loved’,

Neither humans nor the heavens have transcended this

And however it culminates,

All that is certain, is that they have 

never improved.

You are at once, 

the confusion and the cure to my heart.

And darling, I know you have your own dogfight,

Your turmoil and your hurt 

placed somewhere between your ribs and your core.

Let me bear them with you, 

Let me bolster you,

Let us dance together, shielded 

 from all and sundry

For if time were governed by me, 

I would choose your embrace for all of eternity.

And if time stops, 

and the seconds pass slower in your presence,

Then how do I explain why,

I still can’t look away from you.

Michael felt like he couldn’t breathe again as he folded the paper along its creases and placed it safely back in his pocket.

Daniel wasn't out of it. 

Michael had assumed that he was, just like he loved assuming so many other things. Just like he'd assumed that Daniel would get tired of him, that he would decide Michael wasn't worth it, that he'd put Michael's baggage down in the middle of the street and walk away. 

He wouldn't.

He wouldn’t, and he was still fighting for Michael, albeit silently; fighting his feelings for Michael, with the thought that Michael didn’t love him back.

And now Michael had to go back for him.

His entire being desired Daniel; it always had, but never more than it did right then in that very moment. Never more had Michael wanted to tell Daniel, yes. Yes, I love you, and I want you to be my eternity.

Michael wasn't going to let his past cast a shadow over him anymore. His mother – her grip on Michael's childhood had ruined him, but she had no hold on him any longer. Michael wasn't going to let her dictate how he felt or how he allowed himself to feel. 

Michael wasn't going to let her memory stop him from loving Daniel.

The drizzle had become a full heavy rain now, plump raindrops battering the window. Michael pulled his hood back over his head.

His coffee forgotten, Michael stepped out into the street and started running.

------

Daniel heaved a sigh of relief as the clock struck three and his exhibition was officially over. The past seven or so months, everything that happened, everything that hadn’t happened – had all culminated in this one day.

Daniel was so exhausted, he could just fall on the ground right there and sleep for three days.

His advisor seemed to be pretty impressed, so at least that was a good sign for Daniel. Maybe he could graduate before the next semester started after all.

His guests slowly filtered out, group by group, until the gallery was left empty for Daniel to pack up. He left his parents with Max and Charles, who agreed to find a place where they could have dinner later – Charles being of great use for that, of course – and also that they absolutely would not be too weird around Daniel’s parents.

Rain slammed heavily into the windows of the building, and Daniel couldn't help but think how lucky he was that it hadn't rained during the exhibition and everyone got to see the outdoor mural.

Michael was nowhere to be seen, but the painful throbbing in Daniel’s heart remained when he thought about him. 

The hall seemed gloomier without all the people milling in it. Daniel started taking down the baroque painting first, wrapping each canvas generously in bubble wrap and stacking them against the wall. The stained glass door received the same treatment. Daniel turned off the spotlight above each section of the exhibition once he was done clearing it.

He gently pulled down all the photos of Michael from the wall, trying not to crease them. He kept them nicely together in a little bag. Maybe one day, when he loved Michael a little less, he’d be able to look at them again and smile.

Michael’s sculpture sat near Daniel’s own – Daniel had been way too caught up to have a look at it as he’d promised Michael, but with half of the lights turned off, Michael’s sculpture was exceptionally striking under its own spotlight, standing tall but quiet at the end of the room, silently calling for Daniel.

Daniel stepped closer to it.

It was an angel cradling a child, the two figures carved out in extraordinary detail. The child, swaddled loosely in a robe, had all ten fingers and ten toes, and a full head of hair. The guardian angel had its own robe, flowing in a silent wind, all its lines meticulously carved to give it its character. It, too, had a head of hair, though it was wavy and curly, like Daniel’s. Every aspect of the wings was magical; thick lines ran vertically down to represent their feathers, and layered above them were smaller, rounder strokes to add depth. A round border protruded around the top edge for structure. 

Despite all the details Michael managed to put into a single piece of art, the faces of the two characters were vague. Daniel could make out a nose on the angel, but the eyes and mouth were only three slight dents. As if Michael was leaving the angel’s face up to the viewer’s own imagination.

Daniel examined the wings more closely, marvelling at how elaborate they were. Michael must’ve spent days on end just to perfect even one square inch of it.

And that was when Daniel noticed that despite how perfect the wings already were, they really held so much more – they held a surprise.

There were tiny objects embedded in various parts of the wings, skilfully hidden so they wouldn’t interfere with the main concept of the piece. There was a little digital camera. Some paintbrushes. A takeaway coffee cup with a sandwich. A rose. Paint tins. A tiny plant. A football. A dog bone for Milo. 

Everything that represented all the time they'd spent together, carved into the guardian angel's wings. 

The name of the sculpture was written on a folded card, standing on the pedestal next to the figure. Daniel picked it up so he could read it.

Daniel

by Michael Italiano

Daniel fell to his knees, clutching the little card.

Daniel was the curly haired angel holding Michael. Protecting Michael. 

Michael made this figure because Daniel had encouraged him to, and he made this figure...a tribute to Daniel.

Daniel let his tears fall as he read the gold words over and over again. Daniel was the guardian angel. Daniel was Michael’s guardian angel. That was what Michael actually thought, what Michael actually believed in so much that he made an entire sculpture for it.

Daniel turned the card around, searching for any other message, any other sign that Michael was trying to give him. 

There were more words inside the card, this time not in the golden cursive, but in Michael’s own neat handwriting.

I love you.

A loud sob shook Daniel’s entire body. The relief that he felt was conflicted and overwhelmed by all the existing exhaustion and despondence, and Daniel couldn’t find the strength to do anything but bend over and cry. 

This was what Michael had been trying to tell him the entire day, while Daniel was so woefully trying to avoid him, against what every atom of his being was telling him to do. While Daniel convinced himself that he was too busy to care. He would never be too busy to care about Michael.

Michael loved him.

And he wasn’t too afraid to say it.

That very thought gave Daniel enough strength to stand up and run straight into the pouring rain in search of his Michael.

------

Michael didn’t remember walking so far from the building the exhibition was in, but it seemed like hours had passed before he saw it again, a street away from where he stopped to catch his breath.

He looked up and saw Daniel bursting out the front door, looking briefly left and right before he spotted Michael keeled over with his hands on his knees.

The biggest, brightest, most familiar smile broke on his face as the rain drenched him, making his beautiful curls stick to his forehead. Michael had missed that smile so fucking much. It had always brightened his day. Especially when it was directed at him, like it was right then. 

Michael ignored his burning lungs and started running again, just as Daniel started doing the same.

They met in the middle, bodies crashing clumsily against each other as Michael grasped Daniel’s face in both his hands and kissed him. 

Michael felt the smile on Daniel’s face not only on his lips, but deep in his soul. Daniel’s happiness would always be intertwined with Michael’s; it had always been, no matter how hard Michael had tried to reject the notion. His hands ran through Michael’s slick hair, cradling Michael’s head as he went slightly on his tiptoes to kiss Michael harder. 

Michael hadn’t realised exactly how much he’d missed these lips. How much he’d been craving them again. 

“I love you,” Daniel whispered. The rain was deafening, but all Michael could hear was Daniel.

“I love you, too,” Michael whispered back.

Daniel pressed his forehead against Michael’s. “Yeah?” he asked.

Michael nodded, gulping down the lump in his throat. “I thought you – you didn’t –”

“No,” Daniel interrupted with a finger on Michael’s lips. The rain dripped off his nose as he pressed it softly against Michael’s, then kissed Michael to punctuate each word. “No, no, no. Don’t say that. Don’t even think that. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Michael closed his eyes, letting himself revel in the feeling of Daniel’s curls between his fingers as he carded his hands through them. “Daniel,” he said, the word comfortable on his lips, though he was still panting from his run. “I’m sorry.”

Daniel’s arms curled around Michael’s waist, pulling Michael tightly against him. He tucked his head into Michael’s shoulder, a breathless sigh escaping him.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispered. “It was never your fault.”

“I love you,” Michael pulled Daniel so tightly against himself, he felt all the air getting squeezed out of Daniel. Once he started saying it, he couldn’t stop. He repeated the words into Daniel’s wet curls. “Daniel. I love you. Do you know that? I love you.”

“I know now,” Daniel said, and Michael heard the smile in his voice.

The rain continued pouring down on them, but Michael was numb to it. All he could feel was Daniel’s warmth in his arms. The tightness of Daniel’s arms around him. 

“Let’s go back inside,” Daniel eventually said. “It’s getting cold. Your muscles may be keeping you warm but let’s remember I don’t have any.”

Michael couldn’t help but laugh. He’d missed Daniel’s jokes so much. Just Daniel, making him happy without even trying. 

Daniel pulled him along as he ran back to the exhibition hall, and though the meaning of it escaped Michael because they were already drenched to the core anyway, he let Daniel drag him along for the sole purpose of hearing Daniel’s delighted giggles.

They stood near the door dripping off before Daniel grabbed some cloths that had been used to cover his art pieces. He wrapped one around Michael, and the scent of dried paint engulfed him. Michael raised his eyebrows as Daniel stood there staring at him, the corners of his lips hooked upwards slightly.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Daniel’s face morphed into the softest smile. His hair, only a hint of his usual curls left underneath the wetness, hung framing his face as they continued dripping off on the floor. 

“I just think that you look so beautiful,” he said.

Michael leaned forward, and Daniel did the same, the both of them meeting in the middle again. Daniel’s lips were still as soft as Michael remembered. As Michael craved. And now, he could kiss them whenever he wanted. 

The thought that he’d ever doubted any of this almost brought a bitter laugh to Michael’s lips.

Daniel stepped closer, letting Michael wrap him up in the cloth as well. His grip was strong as he held Michael, one arm on his bicep and the other in the small of his back. He kissed Michael deeper as Michael gasped.

“Let’s not fuck in front of Aphrodite again,” Michael found the voice to say.

Daniel laughed directly into Michael’s mouth, which – honestly, just made Michael feel like he was floating in the air. He unwrapped Michael and the cloth from around himself, then when he was convinced that they were dry enough, took Michael’s hand and led him further inside.

They stopped in front of Michael’s sculpture, itself only actually medium-sized but looking rather tall on its pedestal.

“Thank you for making this for me,” Daniel’s voice was as soft as the golden light that was cast on the guardian angel.

“You can take it home,” Michael suggested, before realising he didn’t know the protocol for any of this. “I mean, if it’s allowed.”

Daniel chuckled like he found Michael’s confusion adorable. He hooked his arm in Michael’s and pressed his cheek on Michael’s shoulder as he leaned on Michael. He had a dreamy glaze in his eyes as he looked at the sculpture. “Thank you. I really love it.”

“Dan,” Michael whispered, unsure if he should bring it up. He decided to go ahead with it. “I...noticed that the number seven is missing? From your pieces. What was it supposed to be?”

A smile appeared on Daniel’s face. He lifted his head from Michael’s shoulder only to gesture at Michael’s pockets. “Do you still have the...letter?”

The letter was intact in Michael’s waterproof jacket, fortunately, though a little damp around the edges. Michael handed it to Daniel.

Daniel turned the folded piece of paper over until he got to the side he was looking for, and placed it back in Michael’s hand for Michael to read the single line of handwritten words that Michael hadn’t seen earlier.

7: Union.

This time, when Daniel kissed Michael back, it was hard and fierce and passionate, Daniel’s entire body wrapping around Michael like a vine. And Michael. Michael’s feelings towards so many other things in his life ebbed and flowed, but he hoped – he knew that his feelings for Daniel would always be this intense, blazing with the same heat. 

The ability of Michael to resist Daniel in any way didn’t exist in his bones, but when Daniel pulled him to the ground this time, Michael had to say, “Well, we’re not fucking in front of angel Daniel, either.”

Daniel’s giggle was but a soft rumble in his throat. He let go of Michael and just. Just lay on the ground, on his back, the dreamy look back on his face. Michael lay down next to him, taking his hand and sliding their fingers together.

It just felt so fucking perfect.

“Are you tired?” he asked Daniel.

“Very,” Daniel sighed. “But I’m alright. I’m happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. My advisor really liked your piece, by the way. I think you’ll get a good grade.”

Michael smiled. He let go of Daniel’s hand and pulled him close, pressing Daniel’s head into his chest. “You’ve done such a great job with everything, Dan. Thank you. For everything.”

“Stop it,” Daniel chuckled, giving Michael two light pats on the chest.

He went quiet then, and Michael thought maybe he’d fallen asleep. He knew the venue was booked until the evening to allow Daniel time to clean up, so they weren’t in any rush for time, and Michael let his hand run lazily down Daniel’s arm as he listened to Daniel’s calm breathing.

The door to the exhibition hall creaked open a while later, and Charles’s head popped in for a split second before it popped back out and the door closed.

“Oh my god, are they, like...fucking?” Michael heard Charles ask.

Daniel burst into laughter on Michael’s shoulder, so it must’ve either woken him up or he hadn’t even been asleep.

“I didn’t see, Charles, you were in my way,” Max said, his voice muffled by the door.

“Well, they were on the floor.”

“I can’t...really hear anything, though.”

“Hmm,” Charles said. The door opened again, though only the slightest. “You’re right.”

“Come in, weirdos,” Daniel called, putting them out of their misery. 

Charles's head popped around the door again, followed by Max's above him. "Are you guys…?"

"Fucking? No," Daniel smiled, propping himself up on his elbows over Michael's chest. He looked...mesmerising, like a piece of art, striking against the grey ceiling above him. In a whisper, he continued, "In love? Yes."

Michael almost caved again, almost keened up to kiss him, but he stopped himself because he knew the third time was the charm and they were going to end up fucking, and it was not going to happen in front of Max and Charles. 

Daniel sat up, his hair flat on one side from where he’d been lying on Michael. It was the most adorable sight Michael had ever seen. “Where are my parents?” he asked. “Did you abandon them in the rain?”

“We left them at the history museum. Max thought maybe you needed some help packing up,” Charles said, looking around, then staring at Michael, a grin slowly appearing on his face. “I’m guessing you probably don’t.”

“I could use some help,” Daniel retorted, jabbing a finger at Michael’s shoulder. “This one only knows how to make my legs go jelly.”

“Please,” Max said in a warning tone, already starting to unroll some more bubble wrap for the sculptures.

“He’s just jealous because you guys nearly became a couple,” Charles squatted to whisper to Daniel.

The roll of bubble wrap that Max threw hit Daniel square in the face as Charles dodged it, making all of them laugh.

“I told you!” Charles squealed excitedly, prancing away to get a broom for the floor.

Michael got up to help Max with the sculptures. Daniel continued lying on the floor, but everyone worked around him, not a single one of them complaining that he wasn’t helping. It reminded Michael of Daniel’s little birthday party at the art studio. He was swayed by the fact that they all understood how tired Daniel was even though Daniel didn’t mention it.

“So are you guys okay now?” Max asked as they moved Daniel’s covered sculpture – they found out it was made of styrofoam and required no more than two layers of bubble wrap – near the stacked canvases.

“Yeah,” Michael smiled. Max had always quietly cared for the both of them, he’d noticed. Michael wasn’t sure how much Daniel had told him, but it couldn’t have been too much, so the fact that Max seemed to instinctively know more than he was willing to show, it was...really nice. “We’re…”

“More than okay?” Max finished for him. 

Michael nodded. Max burst into proud laughter and punched him lightly in the arm.

“Look at you, all red and everything,” he cooed.

Michael felt like his cheeks would never recover from all the smiling he was doing. He took little breaks to massage them as they packed up. They had wrapped up most of the things when Charles finally shouted at them.

“Is anyone else hungry here or am I the only one?” he waved to get their attention. “There’s an assortment of sushi somewhere in this town with my name on it, and I’m ready to find it.”

The mention of food made Michael’s stomach rumble. He thought of the coffee he had abandoned earlier, and instinctively turned to where Daniel was, smiling when he saw that Daniel had dozed off in the same spot he was in earlier.

This was sweeter than anything he would ever taste.

“You’ll join us and Daniel’s parents for dinner, right?” Max asked, making Michael turn back around to help him place Michael’s now wrapped up statue in its box.

“Sure, let me just get Daniel,” Michael said, dusting his hands off on his damp pants.

He left Max with the packed up art by the door and went to where Daniel was still laying. Gazing down at him, Michael was still in disbelief over how perfect he was; his curled hair was strewn across his forehead, and most of it had dried off, but Michael could see some of the wet strands tangled under the light. He looked so innocent in his sleep, his usual mischievous smile missing. 

Michael couldn’t help kneeling down and pushing back Daniel’s hair with the lightest touch so he wouldn’t startle Daniel too much. He placed a kiss on Daniel’s forehead. Daniel’s eyes fluttered open, but it took him a minute to focus on him. There was a smile on his slightly parted plum lips, and it looked so inviting.

“Hi,” Daniel spoke softly, as if it was some secret that even the air around them couldn’t know. 

“Hi. Did you have a good sleep?” Michael asked, even though it was barely a nap.

“I dreamed of you. And kissing you. So it was the best sleep ever,” the way Daniel said it made Michael laugh.

Michael placed a kiss on Daniel’s lips as he craned his neck to meet him halfway. It was short but sweet, for they would have all the time in the world to make out later on. Michael ran his fingers through Daniel’s hair as he said, “Such a flirt. Do you want to go for some food?”

“I’d like another go with you,” Daniel glanced behind Michael to where Max and Charles were waiting. “But food sounds good too.”

Michael laughed and helped Daniel up. They loaded the art pieces into the van that Daniel had borrowed for the day, and left it parked in the lot. The sky outside had cleared up once again, though the sun remained hidden behind the remainder of the clouds. Charles led the way with Max by his side. 

Michael walked next to Daniel as they both skipped to avoid the puddles in the pavement. He remembered the night of Daniel’s birthday, and the hesitance he had seen in Daniel’s eyes. He had wanted to hold Daniel’s hand so desperately, and he knew that Daniel had felt the same when he’d hooked their arms together. 

And now they could. Hold hands.

Michael reached in the space between them and grabbed Daniel’s hand. Daniel turned to him and – god. Michael felt like the sun had come out twice in one day. Everything felt so peaceful.

Daniel let his eyes meet Michael’s as his fingers filled the gaps between Michael’s, so smoothly and perfectly it was as if an angel had specially sculpted them to fit that way. He smiled, and Michael saw it in the golden brown of his gaze. 

He pulled Michael closer to him and placed his other hand on Michael’s, too, pressing himself against the side of Michael’s body. And Michael. Michael was so amazed at how Daniel conducted himself, so elegantly and naturally, and yet so...compellingly and so seductive in a way that would make Michael agree to any of his requests without him having to utter a single word.

He was so amazed at the way Daniel’s body and his mind worked, the way Daniel had been so flawlessly put together that his entire being radiated a sort of magical energy.

Daniel gave his hand a squeeze, like he’d noticed Michael had just been staring at him. Michael gave him a sheepish smile.

“Hey, guys,” Daniel called out to Max and Charles, who were waiting by Charles’s car at the end of the street. “You guys go get my parents and we’ll meet you at the restaurant.”

“Why?” Charles asked, like he just really didn’t get that Daniel and Michael just wanted to be alone for a while. And that also, his car literally could not fit all four of them plus Daniel’s parents. 

Max, though, smiled his brightest smile at the both of them, waggling his eyebrows as he called, “Okay!”

Charles honked once as a goodbye as the car passed them along the street. Michael was promptly added into a group chat called ‘Charles and the plebs,’ where Max sent a text with the address of a sushi restaurant. The sight of it made Daniel laugh, the sound of it smooth and warm like honey. 

The restaurant was maybe a twenty minute walk away, so they decided to just continue walking. 

Daniel was quiet, his hand loosely in Michael’s; Daniel was rarely quiet around Michael, or around anyone. He gazed thoughtfully at the ground and occasionally at their interlaced fingers, smiling lightly to himself.

“You alright?” Michael asked as they stopped at a streetlight.

Daniel smiled up at him, and it was like the world had stopped around Michael. He understood now what Daniel had meant when he said that time passed more slowly when he was around Michael.

“I just don’t want to forget any second of this,” he whispered. “I want to remember all of it.”

Michael smiled back at him, turning to take both his hands. “We’re going to have many, many more seconds of this.”

Daniel’s hands gently slipped out of Michael’s, tracing the open front of Michael’s jacket and his collar until they were softly cupping Michael’s face. He held Michael like. Like Michael was a precious, ancient relic that could never be found anywhere else in the world. 

“An eternity of seconds,” he promised with his lips pressed on Michael’s.

Michael held him close, his arms firmly around Daniel’s waist. Daniel – Daniel felt so good against Michael’s body. He always had. Michael had always craved his presence, craved to hold him and to love him. Craved all of Daniel, his hair and his lips and his scent, surrounding Michael like it was meant to be. 

He’d forgotten they were standing on a street corner until a loud honk brought them both back into reality, followed by a familiar car slowing down and the window rolling open.

“Seriously, guys?” Max called, before the window rolled back up and the car disappeared down the street again, towards the sushi restaurant which was only two traffic junctions away now.

Daniel burst into familiar laughter, and Michael really didn’t want to think like he was a character in a cheesy cliche romance movie, but he swore Daniel’s laughter made the post-rain sun finally peek out from behind the clouds, just in time for sunset.

Daniel looked...golden under its rays.

Michael hadn’t chosen to fall in love with him, but he was glad that the universe had handpicked Daniel for him. If given a choice now, Michael wouldn’t have chosen anybody else.

Loud cheers erupted from the table by the window where Max, Charles, Joe, and Grace were sitting as Michael and Daniel finally made it through the restaurant entrance, hand in hand. Grace looked especially delighted to see Michael again, gesturing at Michael to sit down next to her. 

Dinner was light-hearted and full of cheerful conversation. Michael had learnt not to expect anything less than that when it came to Daniel and the people in his life.

And now Michael was part of it, not by sheer will but by the softest of encouragement and the deepest understanding. By being constantly embraced by all the love these people were so willing to give him for no reason Michael could fathom.

The fact that Michael couldn’t choose his family, and the consequences of that, had haunted him for all his life. But if the heavens had decided to gift him a family like this one, whether as a second chance or to make up for the first one – Michael was most definitely not going to complain.

------

Michael woke up every morning to the rose garden stained glass door propped up at the foot of his bed and Daniel curled up warmly against his side.

Daniel’s representation of Cupid and Psyche’s happy ending, and – Daniel himself, Michael’s happy ending.

But he woke up one morning to Daniel missing from his pillow, his presence replaced by a rhythmic tickling on Michael’s thigh, where his scar was.

He blinked himself awake and leaned on his elbows only to see Daniel, armed with a little plastic body paint palette and a paintbrush, sitting cross-legged with a look of deepest concentration, painting colourful flowers all over Michael’s thigh to cover his scar and more.

“What’s happening?” Michael asked, his sleepiness making him thoroughly confused.

Daniel peered up at him. “You know how whenever you think about drawing on your body, it’s always about how it hurts?” he asked. “When you were younger, it was to cover the bruises, and now, you don’t want to get a tattoo because you don’t want it to hurt again?”

“Yeah?”

Daniel balanced the paintbrush on the palette and put it down at the foot of the bed. 

“It doesn’t always have to hurt.”

Michael really could cry at how fucking perfect Daniel was.

And this perfect boy – this perfect boy was in love with Michael. The most imperfect person anyone could ever meet. 

Michael almost believed it was only a dream, a recurring dream of him waking up every morning to a piece of stained glass art on his wall made by the love of his life.

He pulled Daniel towards him, and Daniel climbed between his legs so he wouldn’t smudge the paint on Michael’s thigh. Daniel’s eyes were the softest, kindest brown as Michael continued tugging at the back of his neck until he was hovering above Michael. They crinkled at the edges as he smiled down at him. 

“You love me,” Michael whispered; he hadn’t intended to frame it as a question, but it came out sounding like one.

“I do. I really, really do,” Daniel kissed Michael on the nose. “I love you so much.”

Michael closed his eyes. “It just feels like a dream.”

He felt Daniel’s smile as Daniel kissed him again, this time on the cheek. He rested his entire weight on Michael, pressing his ear on Michael’s chest like he wanted to hear Michael’s heartbeat. 

“It’s not,” he said softly. “The first time I saw you, I thought you were so beautiful. And then we became friends, and I fell in love, and there was no way back. I don’t want a way back. I just want you.”

Michael cradled Daniel’s head as he kissed the top of it, through his fresh, eucalyptus-scented curls. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Michael.”

“I like the flowers.”

“I’ll keep drawing them on you,” Daniel said. “Until you agree to get a tattoo.”

Michael smiled. He would consider getting one, just for Daniel, but. “I don’t know what to get.”

“You will, eventually,” Daniel said. He sounded determined, so Michael just assumed he’d turn out to be right. “Maybe then, I can be the one to give it to you.”

“That’d be cool,” Michael told him. “I’d let you.”

“Really?” Daniel got up, his arms supporting himself on Michael’s shoulders. “So you’ll get one?”

“Maybe. One day.”

“Such a tease,” Daniel cooed, grasping Michael’s chin and wiggling it. 

Michael grinned at him, leading Daniel to do the same. He let himself melt into the pillow as Daniel kissed him deeply.

“The paint isn’t dry, you’re gonna stain your sheets,” Daniel murmured.

“Don’t care,” Michael whispered. “I just love waking up to you like this.”

Daniel’s lips curled upwards. He propped himself up again, this time with his arms next to Michael’s head, framing his face. “Hey,” he said. “Speaking of tattoos…”

“You want another one?”

“No. Not really. Well, kinda.”

“What is it?”

“You know how this baby boy doesn’t have a string in his bow because everything is so fleeting and temporary in modern relationships? Because...he hasn’t found love?” Daniel asked, placing his arm across Michael’s chest so Michael could look at the cherub.

Michael nodded. He remembered Daniel explaining it to him, and how Michael had thought Daniel was a guy who dated around for fun. But what he remembered more clearly was how much he’d appreciated how intricate and mystifying Daniel’s mind and his thoughts were.

“I always thought I’d go back to get the string tatted in when I fell in love,” Daniel said, now in a whisper. “And when I met you, I...I always hoped that it would be you. That you’d be the reason I went back for the string. And now I...would you do it for me? Finish the tattoo?”

Michael honestly didn’t know what he’d be doing with himself if Daniel hadn’t walked into the tattoo studio that day and made Michael think that he and Max were boyfriends.

He’d probably not have been this happy. He would probably have never found happiness like this, in his life.

“Okay,” Michael said.

“Yeah?” the softest smile appeared on Daniel’s face. “You’ll do it?”

Michael nodded. “And I think I know what I’d like my tattoo to be, if I get one.”

“Yeah?” Daniel asked again, his smile growing into the brightest grin. “What is it?”

“A little arrow that your little boy hit me with,” Michael tapped on the cherub with two fingers. 

Daniel’s laugh was...childlike, reminding Michael that he could always, always be silly, always be himself, in front of Daniel. “Quite the romantic, aren’t you?”

“You unlocked that in me. But I won’t get it until I feel ready.”

“Okay,” Daniel agreed, resting his head on Michael’s chest again. “You ever think about how love doesn’t wait until you’re ready? Love doesn’t care if you’re ready.”

“Yeah,” Michael whispered.

“It’s magical, isn’t it?”

Michael smiled at the stained glass roses across from them, the translucent pink glass shards reflecting the morning light as little specks on the ceiling. They sparkled almost with a life of their own, decorating the room with a unique sort of glow.

Just like how Daniel had so casually walked into Michael’s life and sprinkled it with his own kind of magic.

Michael hadn’t been ready when love had come knocking, but Daniel was the embodiment of every sort of perfection that existed on earth, and that was something Michael would willingly get knocked off his feet for, forever.