Work Text:
Look, it’s complicated, okay?
You hesitated to call whatever happened with you and Michael a month ago (yknow, the guy you used to hate) a date. But it was, wasn’t it?
You didn’t really talk about what happened on that night.
But you two were friends now, it was nice.
“Hey, Mikey!” you shouted, walking over to Michael. He waved at you, smiling.
“Hey! What's up?” Michael asked, walking down the main entry to the school with you.
“Oh well, yknow, I was thinking, no good friendship doesn’t have a sleep over at least once, so, what do you say big guy, sleep over tonight? Yours or my house?” You asked and Michael looked at you, a funny little smile appearing on his face.
“Jeez, you say that like the only choice I have is to choose which house we do it in.” Michael says and then realizes how his words could be twisted. He turns red.
“Well, basically, yeah. So what house do you want to ‘do it’ in.” You ask, using air quotes around the words. Michael rolls his eyes.
“We can do it at mine, if you want…my fam-..uhm. My dad will be home though.” He said and you nod.
“Okay, as long as you’re okay with it I am!” You said and he nodded.
“Cool. I'll pick you up and bring you to the house, sounds good?” Michael said and you give a thumbs up.
“Great, see you at..six?” Michael asked. You say yes and the bell rings, you both go off to your respective classes.
What do you even bring to a sleepover?? You haven’t had a sleepover since you were a girl. What do guys even do at sleepovers?
You brought some clothes to sleep in, and some clothes for tomorrow. You threw in some comic books and movies, just in case.
There was a knock at the door.
“I got it mom!!” You shouted, grabbing your overnight bag and satchel, running down the stairs.
You open the door, and Michael is there in a ratty tshirt and jeans.
“Hey! You ready, dweeb?” Michael asked and you rolled your eyes.
“Yes but don’t make me break your nose again.” You duck under his arm, walking to his car. He laughs and shuts the front door.
“Damn, yes sir!” Michael said, following behind you. You look down, smiling. No one has ever called you sir before.
“So to your house? Sure you don’t want to get any snacks on the way there??” You asked, grinning.
“Oh fuck, I didn’t even think of that, Star!” Michael said, getting in the drivers seat. You looked at him, your cheeks turned red.
“Did you call me star?” You asked and Michael looked down, nervously fiddling with a bandaid on his hand.
“Yeah- sorry, I won’t call you it anymore.” Michael said, and you laugh.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, I just asked, is all.” you told him and he looked up at you, smiling.
“Oh. Okay! So uh. What snacks do you want?” Michael asked and he started driving to the convenience store.
~
You and Michael raided the convenience store in a mad dash, piling up bags of snacks and drinks up beside a pile of crumpled up money you both scrounged to pay for it all.
You were both infinitely more excited as you ran back to the car, the cold wind whipping around you both as you got into Michael's dorky car, shivering.
“Jesus fuck it’s cold.” Michael chattered, putting the bags of snacks in the backseat, on top of your bag.
“Right? I swear it wasn’t this cold last year, oh my god.” you huddle into your jacket, and Michael turns on the heater in his car. Michael shivered, slipping deeper into his leather jacket.
“Hey y/n?” Michael asks after a quiet pause in the conversation, both of you trying to get warm.
“Do you ever think of leaving Hurricane?” Michael asked, keeping his eyes on the road, not looking at you as he asked.
“Sometimes. I think about how it’d be easier, being me, in a bigger city. Yknow?” You say and Michael nodded along.
“Me too. Sometimes I wish I could just escape this town but…it’s my home.” Michael said and you nod.
“Yeah.”
“Sorry, that was out of the blue. I just…wanted to know if this was a normal feeling, I guess.” Michael said, gripping the steering wheel tight.
“Then you have a poor sample size for a study like that.” You told him and he laughed.
“Yeah I guess so. It’s big enough for me though.”
You got out of the car, and Michael helped grab the bags. Michaels eyebrows were furrowed, his lip curled nervously.
“Hey, you alright Mikey?” you asked and Michael looked up, he flashed a charming smile.
“Yeah! Just uh. When we come in, try to be quiet? I don't know if my dad is home yet, and I really don’t want to talk to him today.” Michael hurriedly explained and you smiled.
“No worries, man, I totally got you.” You said and Michael smiled softly at you, before closing the car door.
He opened the door quietly, just wide enough for both of you to slip in. The house was quiet and dark. You close the door behind you, sneaking behind Michael to his room.
“Ah-hem.”
You yell, scrambling away from the voice behind you. Michael held onto you, looking up at the tall man that was right where you stood only a moment ago. Michaels shoulders tensed in the presence of who you could assume was his dad.
“Son, I didn't know we were having guests.” the man you rightly assumed as Michael's father said. He was tall and in a nice suit, his hair was slicked back.
“Yeah. We won’t bother you, we’re planning on staying in my room.” Michael said and William looked down at you, his eyes boring into your skull.
“That would be rude, to seclude a guest in one room of the house. I’m Mr. Afton, you can call me William if you’d like.” Mr Afton said, reaching his hand out to shake yours. You try to discreetly wipe the clammy sweat off your palm, quickly shaking his hand.
“Nice to meet you sir, uh. I’m y/n.” you hastily said.
“You as well. I will leave you two to your fun, I have business to attend to.” Mr afton said, quickly leaving the room. Michael practically drags you into the nearest room, the door had caution tape on it, taking a good guess that it was his room.
“What the fuck dude!? That was your dad ????” you whisper shouted at Michael who locks the door, throwing the backs of snacks on the full bed.
“Uh, yeah, sorry about him.” Michael said, rubbing his temples. There was a long pause in between his words, as if he expected you to say something. “Uhm. anyways, do you want to see if there's anything on tv? Or whatever?” he asked, diverting the conversation quickly. He slipped his shoes and jacket off, flopping onto the bed.
“Oh, sure, I brought some movies and comics, uh, just in case.” You said, doing the same as Michael, flopping onto the bed beside him.
“Ooooh what movies did you bring?” Michael asked, leaning over to your side of the bed.
“Welllll I brought The Thing, and The Lost Boys. I probably should have asked if you liked horror movies..” You muttered the last bit and Michael smiled.
“Dude, I love The Lost Boys!” Michael exclaimed, grinning. You hide a smirk, looking away.
“Is that why you call me star,
Michaelllll
?'' You tease and Michaels face turns red. He stares at you blankly.
“N-no, not at all.” he swallowed, looking away. You chuckled, looking at the floor.
“You’re a bad liar, Michael.” You told him and he keeps his eyes focused on his nightstand.
“Let's watch The Thing.” He said quietly, and you handed him the vcr tape.
He turned the light off after he started the movie. You piled the snacks on the floor in between the two of you. It was quiet, but nice, Michael silently leaned closer to you during the movie. You wanted to tell yourself that it was because he was scared and wanted you to protect him.
It probably wasn't, so no need to dwell on it, right?
The scene came to where the monster busted out of the person. You had gathered from Michaels comments that he hadn’t seen this movie before, you were excited to show it to him. You had to guess he picked this one so he wouldn’t have to deal with the onslaught of teasing you would’ve given him everytime Michael and Star were on screen together.
The Thing busted out of the stomach of the character on screen and Michael visibly flinched, looking away quickly. You grabbed the vcr remote, pausing the movie.
“Hey, are you okay?” you asked softly and Michael was quiet for a moment, staring away from the tv, his face scrunched up in horror, almost like he was lost in a memory.
“Hey, Mikey? Earth to Mikey?” You said, and you gently shoved Michaels arm. He jolts, looking at you.
“O-oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt the movie.” Michael said quietly, as if he had just been scolded. His breathing was shaky and ragged.
“No,it’s chill man, I wanted to make sure you were alright.” You tell him and he silently nods. You continue playing the movie and he looks away from the screen until the gore is gone. He doesn’t touch his snacks for the rest of the movie.
“Soooo, did you like it?” You asked, the movie was over, and Michael had turned the light back on.
“Oh uh. It was cool, not my type of horror though. I-i-it was a cool premise though, I thought it was neat.” He stumbled through his sentence, sitting back down on the edge of his bed.
“You know if you didn’t like the movie you could have told me to turn it off.” You tell him and he looks up from his lap at you.
“No no I…it’s okay, really.”
“Okay Mikey, it’s your turn to inflict me with your bad movie taste.” You told him, trying to switch the topic. He looks down, his cheeks reddening.
“Well uh- it’s not really a movie but…do you like soap operas?” He asked hesitantly. You tilt your head at him confused.
“I- I mean yeah…you like soaps?” You asked and he laughed nervously.
“Yeah…it’s nice to watch family drama that isn’t your own, y'know? It’s cathartic or something.” Michael tells you, grabbing a beaten up cardboard box from under his bed.
“Okay so I was going to ask you to pick where you want to start but if you want to have any idea about what's going on in the Maria and Andrew divorce arc you want to start with the first season.” he told you, grabbing the first tape, the box was full of them.
“Jesus, Mike, where did you even get all of these?” You asked and he smiled softly.
“Oh, my mom gifted them to me before she left.” He said softly, looking down at the tape. It had messy cursive handwriting on the label.
“Is that where you get the whole liking for them? Your mom?” You asked and he nodded, taking your tape from the vcr and replacing it with his own.
“Yeah, she was great.” he said bittersweetly, slumping back onto the bed.
You sat together for hours, pausing the episodes to talk about them. Michael seemed so excited to have someone to talk about them with.
By season three you two had migrated to the floor in front of Michaels bed, leaning on each other as you eat shitty gas station snacks.
You yawned, leaning past Michael to look at the clock. It was two am.
“Fuck, it’s late.” you commented, Michael pausing the soap.
“Oh, yeah. Uh. Do you want to go to sleep? You can take the bed.” Michael said, and you shake your head.
“I can take the floor, I wouldn’t want to like, steal your bed or whatever.” You said and Michael laughed.
“It only counts as stealing if you can get it out the door, yknow.” He said smiling. you stared at his warm, freckled face, his dimples showing cutely.
“You’re right, I’ll have to make sure it can fit.” You said and he laughed, shaking his head.
You hop up from the floor, your legs stinging with numbness.
“Okay, I am going to get ready to sleep.” you said to no one in particular, and Michael gave a thumbs up, turning off the vcr.
~
It was late, later than it already was when you heard him- Michael- scream.
You jolted awake from your admittedly cold place on the floor, looking up at the bed to where Michael was sleeping. He was crying. He let out whimpers and pleads in his sleep.
“No- stop, please- it’s all my fault… I'm sorry- stop! Stop!! EVAN!” he screamed, jolting awake, his heavy tears were mixing in with the sweat that had accumulated on him. He held his head in his hands, gripping at his hair tightly.
“Michael, are you alright?” you asked gently, placing a hand on the side of the bed. He jerked away for a moment, pulling his hands away from his face to look at you, he must have forgotten you were there.
“F-fuck- sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up- j-just- go back to sleep- everything is fine.” Michael rambled, his hand softly covering your own. His tears were still pouring down his face. You shook your head, slipping out from under the thin sheet you had, sitting on the side of the bed.
“Michael, I want to make sure you’re okay, is that alright?” You said, looking at him. He didn’t keep eye contact with you, looking around the room.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” you asked after a long, broken up silence. Michael looked almost shocked.
“Could you just…be here? I really don’t want to talk about it- I don’t want to feel like I’m explaining myself to them again .” he pleaded softly, his hand was still clasped gently around yours. His other hand was in a tight ball, a little bit of blood seeping from his fist, where his fingernails were digging into his skin. You acknowledged what Michael said, but didn’t press him.
“Michael you’re hurting yourself.” You said softly, and Michael looked down, slowly letting his fist go, looking at it, bewildered, as if he didn’t even realize.
“Do you want me closer?” you asked and he nodded softly, his skin red and blotchy from crying.
You gently slip under the covers to sit beside him, side to side. You gently wrap your arms around him and his sobs stutter for a moment. He curled into you, his hands gripping onto the back of your shirt tightly. He was clutched onto you like a little kid.
You had nuzzled your face into his hair, and he seemed comforted by it, you stayed holding him as he tried to slow his breathing.
“I miss them…” Michael whispered quietly, his voice gravelly.
“Who do you miss, Mike...?” you hesitantly ask him, curiosity getting the best of you. He balls his fists up tight in the back of your shirt.
“I-I..I miss my siblings- I miss how fucking annoying they were, it- it’s so fucking quiet in the house without them- I-I miss mom…” his voice broke when he started talking about his mom. Michael sucked in a quick breath, “I want them back- it- it’s all my fucking fault.” he cried softly, his voice hiccuping through words.
“Michael it’s not your fault, what happened to them.” You didn’t know what happened to them, you have to be honest, but whatever did happen, fucked up Michael bad .
“YES IT IS.” Michael shouted, pushing himself away from you. You flinched at the loudness of his voice. “It’s all my fucking fault!” he sobbed, his arms tucked tight to his sides.
Michael was quiet for a moment.
“Shit- sorry star, I-I didn’t mean to raise my voice- fuck…” He holds his head, letting out soft whimpers, rocking himself softly.
“Hey- it’s okay. You have a lot of emotions right now. How about you clean up a little, wipe the tears and sweat off, while I get you a glass of water. It always helps me when I’m upset.” You told him and he nodded after a while.
“I’ll be right back, promise.” You said, getting up from the bed. It took Michael a moment to let go of your hands. He apologized after.
You quietly tip-toed back to Michaels room, fresh glass of water in hands. Michael was still sitting in bed, his knees curled up to his chest. He was looking blankly down at the floor.
“Jesus, do I have to do everything myself?” You joked, and Michael flinched, looking away.
“Shit- sorry, that was meant to be a joke.” You said quickly. You walk over to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of bed. He stumbled after you.
“Which way is the bathroom?” You asked quietly, he pointed the way to the bathroom.
You turned the yellow-y light on. You put the glass of water beside the sink and sit Michael down on the closed toilet.
“Wash cloths?” You asked and he pointed out the cabinet. You take one out and wet it in the sink.
“Look up at me?” You asked him, and he looked up at you, his eyes were soft and watery. You gently hold his chin as you push his hair out of his face, wiping his face with the soft cloth gently. His eyes fluttered closed and he leaned his head into your hand, soft tears spilling down his cheeks. He looked like a wreck in your hands. He looked like he could be in a painting. You didn’t know someone could be both. It was painfully beautiful.
You wanted to kiss it better.
You didn’t kiss him.
You tilt his head up a little more. You wiped his neck of tears. You saw his Adam's apple bob softly as you ran the cloth over it. Once you tilted his head back to a comfortable position, he leans his head back into your hand. You smiled, leaning to grab the glass of water. You had to lean just out of reach to get it. You hand slipped from Michaels cheek as you leaned over to get it and Michael audibly whimpered at the loss of touch. You looked back over to him, his cheeks were redder than they were before, his eyes were open and he looked away from you, embarrassed.
“Hey, drink.” You tell him, smiling. you bring the glass of water up to his lips. He drank it greedily, his hand covering yours as he held it.
He finished off the glass in one go.
“I-I’m sorry again, y/n.” He said, coming back to his senses a little more. You shake your head.
“Nonsense, it’s not like you can control it. I’m just glad I was here to help.”
Michael nods.
“Me too.”
You lead Michael back to his room by his hand. You could fix up Michaels hand tomorrow. Tonight you just wanted to make sure Michael could get back to sleep.
You closed the door, and Michael sat on his bed.
“Do you need anything else while I'm up?” you asked and Michael shook his head. You started to kneel down to the little mat where you were sleeping.
“W-wait.” Michael whispers, and you look up at him. His face was red, and he was fiddling with the strings of his sleep pants nervously.
“U-uhm. Sorry if this is weird, but uhm- could… Could you sleep up here with me? It’s probably warmer than the floor- you don’t have to though- sorry for asking, forget I said anything.” Michael answered himself before you could and you chuckled. Michael had already turned over and hid himself under the covers. You opened the covers and slipped in beside him.
He slowly turned to look at you.
“Sorry there’s not a whole lot of room..” he whispered, and you shake your head, smiling.
“I don’t mind.” you whispered back and he nodded, reaching out to you before stopping halfway. You sighed, gently moving an arm over him, pulling him close.
“Good night, Mikey.” you say and Michael was a little too stunned to speak.
“Y-yeah. Good night star.” he whispered back. You closed your eyes, smiling as you fell asleep with the prettiest boy you knew.
You woke up the next morning, Michaels head laying on your chest, his fluffy hair pillowed out over his forehead and shoulders. You already had your hand in it. Birds chirped outside the window, and the light bled through the curtains over Michael, shining over the part of his exposed back where his shirt was pulled up.
You could live with this.