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Mike didn't really get the hype around Disney Princesses. Maybe it was because musicals weren't his go-to, or maybe it's because he wasn't a five-year-old girl, but they weren't exactly his style. So, when the credits rolled on The Little Mermaid, and he saw his little sister asleep on the couch beside him, he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Heather was a cute kid, but he'd seen that movie one too many times.
He looked at his watch to confirm that it was actually her bed-time. 7:44. Close enough, he thought. Usually, he took Heather to bed at seven o'clock - or within a few minutes - but she had insisted they watch a movie. At that point, Mike himself was too awake to even try going to bed, so he'd agreed. What he obtusely hadn't counted on was his little gremlin of a sister choosing the same movie that she watches at least once a month. Regardless, he couldn't be justly mad about it. The movie had gotten her to sleep.
"Alright little lady," he said, scruffing her hair. "I think it's time we got you to bed."
She made a non-committal noise before trudging up from the warmth and comfort of the cushions and groaning. Being five must be very hard. The two of them walked to her room and he made sure that her window was tightly locked and secure before tucking her into bed.
When he was about to exit the room he remembered to plug in her night-light, but as he put the glittery thing into the wall, he was interrupted. "I don't need that! I'm a big girl," came the small-but-angry voice of his sister. Mike pitched an eyebrow up at her but she returned it with an insistent look.
Raising his hands up in mock defeat he murmured "What the lady says goes," and walked out of the room. She was probably going to come to him later about some sort of monster under the bed. It didn't matter at the current moment; he'd be awake - and Barkerwoods did have a sort of boogeyman lately.
Thinking about all of that made Michael's head hurt. He hadn't ever been out of Barkerwoods, but he assumed that a small town in Alaska was meant to be a little more calm than this. One murder was enough to get the town buzzing, but with as many as there were, he was starting to get just as paranoid as the hardware store customers. It didn't help that he already felt like he was closing the store insanely late with the early sunsets and the surge of people buying road-salt. But now? Now it was somehow so much worse. He had to listen to people gossiping all day long or buying the absolute weirdest things imaginable in hopes of protecting themselves from the killer-at-large. Mike didn't blame them, but all of their talk was starting to make him paranoid
He checked all the windows were locked and double checked the doors too before settling back down on the couch. Might as well rewind the tape , he thought. And so, he rewound the movie and popped it out of the VCR.
As he was putting it back in the case, the phone rang and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Fumbling for a second to make sure he didn't drop the tape, he made his way over to the phone. Jesus Christ. Maybe he was a bit more affected by the gossip than he thought.
Setting the movie down, he answered the phone with a quick, but direct: "Brower Household," but realizing that that may have not been enough information for whoever would be calling at eight o-clock in the middle of winter, he continued, "And uh- It's Michael, sorry if you're looking for Greg or Kelly. They're out of town right now for Christmas." He paused again, shorter this time, before tacking on, "Oh, and Brower's Hardware is closed right now if that's what you're-"
The caller interrupted him. "I didn't know your parents left for Christmas, Mikey!" came the cheerful voice from the other end. "I would've called sooner." Michael knew that voice.
"Holy Shi- Dan? Hey man! It's been forever," he leaned against the wall. "How's it going?"
Dan snorted. "C'mon it's only been..." He stopped, thinking, and then finished: "Six months?" and Mike could almost see his dramatic grimace when his friend went on. "I guess that is a long time, huh."
The two drifted into comfortable silence, and the air turned a bit more serious. Before high-school graduation, they'd been inseparable. One did not go anywhere without the other, and that included getting into trouble. Mike's pretty sure that Dan had spent almost as many nights at the Brower's than he spent at his own house in his teen years. It had been an admittedly tearful goodbye when his friend had left for college in Anchorage, but Michael was mostly content to stay and work at the hardware store if it meant helping his family out. He'd missed Dan.
"Yeah, I- I'm sorry I haven't called. But-" A punch of breath sent a staticky sound through the receiver as Dan sighed. "Turns out there's a lot more going on in Anchorage than Barkerwoods, who'da thunk? Um- Well there should be at least- Anyway, I'm back in town for the holidays right now and my parents kind of turned my room into storage? So I've been sleeping on the couch and- That's kind of not important to be honest. I haven't been able to sleep with the whole murderer thing going on and- Well I guess I picked kind of a bad time to come home, you know? It's kind of crazy actually. Shit- Anyway- I was going to ask if maybe I could come over? If I didn't wake you up, that is! I don't mean to mess up your night and all-"
"Jesus, Dan." It was Mike's turn to interrupt. "Have you always rambled like that?" He snickered and Dan scoffed on the other end. "Yeah, man, of course you can come over."
"Cool! Right- Yeah, I'll just..." Mike heard a small shuffling noise.
"Do you need me to pick you up?"
A smile plastered onto Mike's face when he heard Dan's answer. The idiot had finally gotten his own car. It made sense, Mike supposed. How else would Dan have gotten back to Barkerwoods on his own?
Then, Dan teased him. "I'm pretty sure you'd crash into the snow and your car would explode", he said with an infectious laugh.
"Rude."
Mike was laughing along anyway.
He twirled his finger around the phone's cord. "Right, so… how long til you get here?"
Dan hummed for a second, like he was considering his time constraints. "About 10- 15 minutes?"
"Oh- Oh- Hey Mikey?" He hummed in acknowledgment while Dan kept going. "I'll be back," he said. And he said it in possibly the worst Terminator impression that Mike had ever heard him do.
He tried to joke about how stupid that was, but Dan had already hung up. Totally rude.
Mike sat there with a dumbstruck smile on his face for a probably-too-long time before regaining his higher brain function. He first realized that he had completely tangled up the cord during the call. Problem for future Michael, he thought. Second, he realized that he had left all of the movie snacks out. They were a bigger mess than one might expect. And last, he realized the most important thing: the driveway was covered in like two feet of snow. Shit.
Scrambling for the snow shovel and a nice warm coat, Mike cleaned up the snacks on the way. He only got about half of the trash in one go, but he could get the rest of it later.
With the door now open, and the porch light on, he found that 'two feet' was barely an exaggeration. He mentally cursed himself for forgetting to salt the driveway the past few days. Dividing and conquering, Mike set to work on his shoveling. All things considered - the temperature, the time of day, and the small time frame - Michael would say he did a pretty good job at it. But now, he was exhausted, and so he gladly walked back in to finish tidying up.
The remaining snacks were thankfully not nearly as much of a hassle as the driveway. When he finished cleaning those up, he checked the time and- Huh. It'd been twenty-five minutes since he got off the call with Dan. The guy definitely should've arrived by then.
There was probably some sort of normal and explainable and non -freak-out-worthy explanation for Dan's lateness. But Mike was tired and he'd been tense and the whole town was one big ball of nervous energy. So. Sue him. He sat on the couch and organized the random items on the coffee table, decidedly not thinking about all the terrible things his brain was conjuring up. Ten extra minutes really wasn't bad in the middle of winter. Dan had probably just misjudged. Plus, he hadn't seen him in months, he was bound to be a little weird in the anticipation of reunion. When he finally got so bad that he began to chew on his nails like a lunatic, a knock at the front door brought him out of his head. Finally, he thought.
He hopped up from the couch to answer the door, nearly tripping on a rug in his haste. A sudden bout of anxious giddiness hit him as he got to the front door and he brushed a few fingers through his hair to make sure it wasn't too messed up from his shoveling escapade.
Mike opened the door.
"Hey man!" he said, and then he was tackled into a hug.
They laughed for a moment and Dan ruffled his hair. "Oh my god, it's been so long." He made a show of sniffing the air, told Mike he smells bad , and then dissolved back into giggles.
Looking at him after so long was... odd, to be honest. While the two of them walked further into the house and into the TV room, Michael took him in fully. Dan had miraculously gotten even taller than he used to be. The two of them used to be pretty on level with each-other, but now Mike had to tilt ever so slightly up to hold his gaze. His hair had grown too, now reaching around his chin instead of being ear length. It suited him. He looked good. Really good, his traitorous brain supplied. Ignoring that thought, he continued his cursory inspection.
Dan was holding a backpack that looked a little too packed with things. It honestly looked as if it was about to burst open, but it was full of pins and patches, so he must trust it to not explode into millions of little threads. And he had a new jacket, sturdy looking and brown with a fluffy lining. He had a cheeky grin on his face too, like he was about to say something fully too dumb for life.
Before he could talk, however, Mike spoke. "What took you so long?" he complained.
"Can you at least let me sit down first," he groaned. "You're clinging to me like a damn koala." Mike let go at this, but thought that really it was Dan doing the clinging, not him. He didn't really make to create a gap between them, though.
They both flopped down on the couch, and when Dan didn't start talking immediately, Mike gave him a raised eyebrow. He was met with yet another sigh as his friend relayed an entirely convoluted story about what delayed him. It was a bit ridiculous, but knowing Dan's luck? Completely believable.
Apparently, when he first left, he almost forgot his bag. Naturally he walked back in to get it. First obstacle cleared. Then, of course, the main road he wanted to take was completely closed, so he had to turn around and take the strangest and windiest side ride he'd ever had to take in his life. And finally, the cherry on top: On this wonderful road, a simply humongous chunk of snow blew from the top of a tree all the way to the hood of his car. His windshield wipers refused to do the trick, so he had to get out of the vehicle, and wipe the snow off by hand. It was so dark and cold as balls, he complained. Mike felt bad, but was relieved that Dan had to drive in this weather instead of him.
"I passed a cop on the road, too. Freaky. Never used to see cops around here," he added when he'd finished his rant about the drive. "Pretty sure it was that chick... Kate? Bell- Bellerose? Was that her name? Could be wrong, though, it was dark."
"Yeah, it was probably her. She's been all over these murders. Pretty sure the only cops I've seen questioning anyone are her and her partner," Mike said. He didn't really remember the partner's name, just that he was older. Bellerose was older too, but young enough that they knew of her while they were freshmen in highschool.
"Makes sense she'd become a cop."
"Yeah, I guess."
Unlike the silence on the phone, this new one was not comfortable. There was a subtle, awkward tension between them that neither seemed to know what to do with. Mike wanted to ask about Anchorage, and all of Dan's college friends, but he had sounded hesitant to talk about it on the phone, so he didn't bring it up. He'd been scared that something like this would happen; that once they moved on with life, they'd never be able to re-fuse together like they used to. Mike certainly didn't want to say something as serious as that, so he said the next best thing that came to his mind.
"Wanna watch a movie?" he said, as casually as possible.
Dan was back to his signature beaming smile. "What, like, a Christmas movie?"
Mike wasn't actually planning on that, but it was a good idea. Maybe a Christmas movie would help him fall asleep. "Yup," he replied. "How do you feel about Die Hard ?"
A chuckle sounded from behind him. "First of all: Die Hard is barely a Christmas movie. Second of all: You do not own Die Hard ," Dan said.
"I do not own Die Hard. " Mike conceded with a dramatic sigh. He quietly giggled - who the hell giggles - at Dan's teasing, and suggested a 'real' Christmas movie: Home Alone. To this, Dan agreed with what passed for minimal joking around.
As Mike searched for the tape on their small shelf, he heard Dan complain from behind him. "Man, I'm thirsty. Cups still in the same cupboard?"
"Yep," he replied.
He dusted off the case, thinking that it was a bit silly there were movies to only watch once a year. When he opened it up, he was annoyed to find that all the tape was on the right side. They'd forgotten to rewind it last time they watched it. No matter. Mike put the movie into the VCR while Dan came back to the couch with his water.
Dan audibly stifled a laugh when he saw what was on the couch. Not only were there little crumbs just about everywhere on the cushions, but the only remaining blanket was Heather's barbie ballerina blanket. As Mike rewinded the tape, he looked back to see what could've been so funny. Was his hair still a mess, or something? Putting off a grimace - and a bit of a blush - he made his way to try and sit as on-top-of-it as possible. He was neither fast enough nor big enough to stop Dan from fully appreciating it. The guy pulled it right out from under him and gave it a childish hug. He didn't even know why he was embarrassed by the blanket. Dan knew who it belonged to. He didn't need to seem cool. Whatever.
"How is the little goblin, anyway? Is she with your parents?" Dan said, and Mike realized that the two of them were being a bit loud.
It was in a partially hushed tone that he said, "She's home, but it's past her bedtime, so..." He put a finger up to his lips and made a shushing noise. Dan responded with a shushing motion of his own - and a thumbs up - before flopping down onto the couch.
Mike grabbed the remote, pressed play, and he too, settled onto the couch.
The whole one-hour-and-forty-three-minute experience felt nothing but bizarre. Typically, when the duo watched movies together, they'd make near constant annoyance in the theater. At home, it wasn't supposed to be much different. One would lean and whisper something ridiculous into the other's ear. They'd make absurd reactions to boring moments. General tomfoolery and teenage dirtbag-ness . Now, the energy was different. They watched the first half of Home Alone almost in silence, only surrendering a few chuckles here and there for the on-screen comedy. Dan looked a bit tense, barely looking at Mike the whole time. Any time that he shifted closer or something, Dan's stiffness would somehow get worse.
About fifty minutes into the movie, Mike went to the bathroom. As he washed his hands, he took a very good look at himself in the mirror. There was nothing... particularly weird with his appearance. He honestly hadn't physically changed at all during the six months they hadn't seen each-other. Mike decided that when he got out of the bathroom, he was going to talk with Dan. Something had to be up, right?
Unfortunately, his plans were foiled. Walking back into the living room, he saw Dan fast asleep on the couch. He was somehow both curled into the fluffy blanket and sprawled across the couch. It was good that at least one of them could get to sleep , but Mike wasn't just going to let him sleep on the couch.
He felt a little bad nudging him awake, but it had to be done. Mike gently shoved him until he was sitting up and sat next to him. Dan slumped all the way back down onto his lap before abruptly regaining consciousness and practically scrambling off of him. He had a sheepish look on his face, and - although it was dark in the room - Mike was pretty sure he saw a blush creep across his face. He definitely didn't think too hard about that for a few seconds.
"Dude, you're completely wiped out," Mike stated the obvious. "Do you wanna like- Go to bed? Or something?"
Dan stretched his arms over his head while he shifted to sit up straight, riding his shirt up a little bit in the process. Shaking his head, he said, "Nah... I still gotta finish the movie." He slapped Mike's hand away when he tried to grab a little more than his share of the blanket. It was not a very large blanket.
The movie continued, and it was a little less awkward. Dan wasn't being so stiff and Mike was actually able to leach some warmth off of him. The Brower household's heater was good enough, but it was still cold as hell outside - and that transferred to the indoors too.
Seemingly in a flash, the movie was over and they were both half-asleep. Dan had gotten more cuddly as time had gone on but he still sifted away once every time realized he was resting on Mike.
It was stupid, Mike thought. They'd both be warmer and more comfortable if they just huddled together more.
He then realized that maybe he cared a little too much and pushed that thought to the back of his head.
Dan looked... nice, on the couch and under Heather's blanket. He certainly looked cozy. It reminded Mike of all the other winter days that Dan had stayed at his house; or that he had occasionally stayed at Dan's. He resisted running a hand through Dan's hair. The new length and the smoothness that came with it were tempting. Mike still wasn't tired enough to fall fully asleep, but it sure seemed like Dan was. He kept dozing off. All the way through to the end of the movie, he swayed like he was trying to not fall all-the-way-asleep again.
When the movie was finally over, Mike restated his offer for Dan to go to bed. "I mean- We don't really have a guest room, but you can always sleep in my room." Remembering that the last time Dan had been here, he still had a twin bed, he added, "And I got a new- bigger bed, so there's still plenty of space for you."
Although he grumbled something about being too tired to stand, Dan collected himself and they both walked to Mike's room.
The bedroom wasn't exactly clean but it was serviceable. Mike brushed aside his crumpled blankets and made space for Dan on the bed. He made a gesture with boy arms, as if to say huzzah! Here is your throne! Dan laughed.
"Do you mind if I put on some music?" Mike said.
"Nah, dude, go for it. I mean, it would definitely help me sleep and- Oh! Oh my god, I almost forgot," Dan said, searching through his bag for... something. "I swore to myself, I was all ' Dan you've got to show Mikey this, he's gonna love it', I can't believe I almost didn't show you."
When Mike saw it, he was, to say the least, confused. "What is that? Is that-" He stared at the CD Dan in Dan's hand for a moment. It was an orangey-red color, and it said Alice In Chains on it. That's weird, he thought. Mike had never seen it before in his whole life, and he's pretty sure he wouldn't have missed a new release.
Dan pulled it back towards himself before Mike could grab and inspect it, rolling his eyes as he did it. " This ," he said, spinning the CD between his fingers, "May or not be something I stole from the radio station I work at in Anchorage."
Mike smacked himself on the forehead.
"Alright, alright- Before you think I'm an idiot, you've just gotta listen to it, man. It technically comes out next month- we got it early, radio priviliges- but it's so good. You have to hear it."
He agreed to listen - in what universe would he not - and he was rewarded with Dan's cooing about how much he loves him. After holding out his hand and having the CD placed into his palm, he put it into his CD player. It wasn't the best sound quality, but it got the job done. The device was also covered in some of Heather's hello kitty stickers, and a bit of nail polish for whatever reason, but it gave the thing character , Mike thought. He pressed play.
The first song that played wasn't particularly his style, so Mike decided to turn it down and just... talk.
"So," Mike began. "You work at a radio station, now? This song's good, by the way, I just wanted, to- You know," he trailed off, waving a hand in the air.
Ever-so-typically beaming, Dan answered. "Yeah! It's actually pretty cool. I don't actually talk a lot- That's all my friend Laura, to be honest. She mostly just lets me hang around. ...And occasionally take some early releases home with me." As he finished his statement, his smile turned into a grin. Mike grinned as well, something to tease Dan about?
"Laura?" he drawled, batting his eyelashes.
"Ew- Dude, what? No way. Absolutely not. She is so not my type. Plus I'm pretty sure she's a lesbian." He flashed a weird look at Mike, with that. Almost like he was gauging his reaction. Weird, he thought. Was he being too transparent? No, his mind continued. And there was no reason to freak out anyway. Dan seemed cool with gay people. Wait a minute. Transparent about what? "I'm pretty sure she gets more chicks than I do," Dan finished, and Mike had to push his panicked thoughts to the back. He'd unpack all of that later. There was still a weird expression on Dan's face, like he'd made a joke that Mike wasn't in on. He tried not to think too much of that , either.
Clearing his throat, Dan continued. "What about you?" he asked. "Any- Uh- People? Back here?"
"What, like dating? Nah, man." Frankly, Mike wasn't sure he'd had any time to date between picking up more shifts at the hardware store and basically raising a small child. That's just an excuse, chimed the devil on his shoulder. Well. Maybe 'devil' was a mean way of putting it. "No time," he added.
A hum of agreement came from Dan's throat. "I hear that. I think I go to too many concerts. I'm pretty much always sore, man. Oh, and god , don't even get me started on that drive up here?" He flopped even further back onto the bed, seemingly getting acquainted with all the size and texture it had to offer. "That drive is killer, dude."
Mike groaned at that word. "Jesus man, do not say 'killer' right now."
"Oh, do tell. Is little Mikey not getting sleep because of the big, bad, serial killer?" The overdramatic, baby-ish voice almost made Mike laugh. Almost.
He leaned back on the bed, now eye level with Dan. "Ugh. Partially, yes, but really ? I think every. Single. Customer. Has either gossiped with each other or asked me what I know about things," he said, specifically punctuating each word as he spoke. "Why would some random hardware store clerk know jack shit?" Mike rubbed his eyes in exasperation.
"Suspicious purchases?" Dan replied with fake hesitance, removing Mike's hands and playing with his fingers.
"Don't even make me think about that, Dan. I do not want to feel complicit."
"Okay, okay-" he said, before cutting himself off. "Oh! Oh! Turn it up, the next song is so good."
Mike complied, making his weary way to and from the player and allowing himself to drop back down right next to Dan on the bed. God, he was bone tired. The song was more calm, a little more stripped back from the previous one. And then, when the lyrics started, it was just so sad. He probably would've payed more attention to the lyrics if he was alone, but he wasn't alone. He had Dan right in front of him. Of course, Dan had already learned the lyrics. The guy had always been quick to pick up on lyrics, even the incomprehensible Pearl Jam songs on the radio. The song was short, but Dan got into it. He mouthed the words and nodded his head along. Any time it'd get a bit more emotional, he'd close his eyes.
Watching so closely, Mike realized something. He'd been pushing it down for a while, but he definitely felt something for Dan. It was a bit intangible - he'd never had a reference for the difference between romance and friendship between two guys - but it was certainly there.
He noticed that he loved the way Dan would get all up in his personal space, even if he pretended it was annoying. He loved the stupid movie references and jokes he would make. And he loved the way his face scrunched up when he felt extra strongly about something. He's pretty sure he thought Dan was the prettiest guy he'd ever met. The bar might not have been very high for that last one, but hey, it was still something. The last thing Mike realized in this long and winding string of epic realizations, was that he had no idea what to do with any of them.
Just straight up telling him was a no-go, for sure. Dan was chill with Laura-the-presumed-lesbian, but that didn't mean he'd be cool with his best-friend-of-nearly-twenty-years coming onto him.
This is too stressful, Mike thought. And so, he did what he quickly discovered he'd been good at for a very long while: decided to actively not think about it.
Not-thinking-about-it went swimmingly for the rest of the CD. He was content to continue watching Dan sing along or dance to the music; especially content to hear his friend's ramblings about lyric meaning theories or how the music was absolutely genius. Then the CD ended, and he had to move his very sleepy body up to switch the CD to something else. Remarking how it felt a bit short, Mike got his answer from Dan in that it was an EP instead of a full album. Ah, I see, he'd muttered.
Picking a replacement for it was no easy task. It had to be something they could sleep too. So metal albums were out, punk was too, and Nirvana's In Utero was definitely out.
That left only two CDs in his collection. A random church-y CD that he'd taken from the Hancock's house about four years ago. Yikes, no thanks. And Mazzy Star's So Tonight That I Might See. It was, perhaps, a bit romantic of an album to fall asleep to - and a bit sad as well - but it was better than all the alternatives.
He held it up to confirm with Dan, and turned it on.
His walk back to the bed felt like he was trudging waist deep through snow. The two of them had shared beds before, it didn't mean anything. Logically, he knew that. Mike also logically knew, in hindsight, that he’d felt the exact same about Dan then, as he does now. But knowing made it almost too much. The overtly sappy music probably didn't help in his agonizing.
"Dude, get in here. I'm cold," complained Dan.
Oh well, Mike thought. Dignity and peace of mind be damned, I'm getting some sleep.
Shuffling under the covers to get comfortable, he felt his face heat up. Why did he have to figure it all out? Why couldn't he just live in blissful ignorance of his own emotions like a normal, well adjusted citizen?
After Mike lay there stiffly for barely a second or two, Dan spoke. "Hey, Mikey?" he said.
He turned around to face him. "Yeah?" he muttered, as quietly as possible. Mike hoped his voice didn't betray his nerves, but it was probably crystal clear.
"Just... stop me if I read things wrong, okay?" Dan leaned over onto his forearms, facing him completely. He raised one of his hands up to rub softly against Mike's cheek. "Can I..." he didn't finish his question, but Mike gave a soft sound of agreement - that could have been more accurately described as a whimper - and then they were kissing.
To be one-hundred-percent honest, it was a bit of an awkward kiss. They were both angled a little strangely, and their noses hit each other at first - but it was still perfect in Mike's eyes. He'd had a few first kisses before, but none of them felt like this. It was so unexpectedly soft coming from Dan. He loved it. He thought he might love him , but he wasn't quite ready to come to terms with that discernment at the moment. He'd figure it out later.
Dan broke off the kiss and stared at Mike with wide, searching eyes. "Is this okay?" he said.
"Jesus, man." Mike exclaimed, tugging him into another kiss. This one was a little rougher, and ended a little faster, but he enjoyed it all the same. He was eager, sue him .
When they released for the second time, Dan chuckled and said something along the lines of "Alright, no more kissing, I want to actually get some sleep tonight," which made Mike blush even more furiously than he already was. An impressive accomplishment. Then, Dan wrapped his arm around him to seal the whole 'sleep' deal.
Just as he was about to snuggle up like a bug-in-a-rug, Mike leaned back and gave Dan one more kiss, just a peck. "For posterity," he said.
Dan laughed. "Go the fuck to sleep, man."
And so, he did.
And so, it was probably the best sleep he'd had in a long time.