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“Stop the car.”
Arms crossed over his chest, Michael squeezed his bicep tightly, knowing that even through his thick winter coat, his nails would be leaving indentations in his skin. He was one swerve away from grabbing the door handle and the emergency break, hoping with all of his might that Don didn’t send them tumbling into a ravine somewhere in the Swiss Alps.
Don, who was currently ignoring his backseat driving after enduring it for going on four hours, continued to ignore him, slowed the speed of the car just so, but nowhere near enough to satisfy Michael..
“Don Lorenzo, I swear to god if you don’t stop this car, I will be buying a one way flight back to Munich as soon as we arrive.”
Don snorted, finally slowing the car to a stop on a gravel coated shoulder. The snow had already been scraped away to allow lovely travelers, such as themselves, safe passage through, but Michael felt anything but safe as Don whipped around corners like they were driving through the streets of some backwater town in Italy, rather than through the mountains.
“What is it now, Micha? If you need to use the bathroom, be careful. Don’t want to get your dick frozen off or worse, eaten by a bear.”
“There’s no bears , you complete and total imbecile.”
“Well, Micha, that’s not very nice. And, also, tell me how you are going to get to an airport? There isn’t one in St. Moritz, which is why we decided to drive in the first place. Three hours from the closest airport, four from Munich. Going to drive all the way home just to take a spin in an airplane, my love?”
Michael rolled his eyes, staring out the window at the snow coated scenery. It was perfect, picturesque almost, like a classic Christmas card. It was exactly why they had chosen to come here, rather than a more metropolitan city like Zurich. Just a little vacation before the holidays, away from the hustle and bustle of life and their careers. Rarely did they ever have a moment to just exist together, and never for this long. It was just a consequence of being professional football players on different teams in different countries.
But, another consequence of them being long distance was never really spending any time in a car with each other. When Don visited him in Munich, he was the one who drove them around. In Turin, they often found themselves walking or taking taxis, as neither of them were ever fit to drive after Don took him out on the town for the evening.
This was probably not the time to learn that Don was an awful driver, but there was nothing he could do to take back the last few hours of clenching his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, or the sweat drenching his shirt from the stress and the heater blasting fully in his face.
“So, Micha. What’s the issue? Can I start driving again or do you have something you need to say?” Don looked at him with a faked look of concern written all over his face. It was almost like he was mocking him. Teasing him for his discomfort and frustration with his poor driving.
“I’m hot,” Michael stated plainly, finally uncrossing his arms to open the car door. Unclipping his seat belt, he slipped out of the car, boots crunching on the gravel beside the road. He winced slightly as a car whizzed by, driving just as quickly (and just as poorly) as Don had been. Leaning against the door, he crossed his arms over his chest again, staring out at the landscape.
He just needed a breather. A moment to gather himself and collect his thoughts so he could convince himself that his dear, darling boyfriend was not trying to kill them both, and that he was genuinely trying his best to get them safely to St. Moritz.
Most of all, he was trying his hardest to not completely lose his cool every time Don did something that upset him. Especially when he knew Don wasn’t trying intentionally to upset him.
For most of their relationship, if you could even call their “friendship” slash rivalry slash hatred for each other a relationship prior to their romantic relationship began, Don and Michael had not really gotten along. And that was putting it lightly.
Don, who intentionally aggravated him just to see him get angry. Michael, who retaliated in anger and hatred with cold jabs and burns that were meant to cut Don deeply. So deeply, that he was surprised it hadn’t been successful. He was shocked really that Don was still with him now, and that his commentary for all of those years had not been effective. Even the harshest, meanest comments he could muster never seemed to phase him.
If anything, the comments just lured Don in closer and made him want him more. A sucker for punishment, a masochist even, Don never left him even on Michael’s moodiest days.
But that didn’t mean Michael still enjoyed being mean to him. He never really did, because the dynamic he and Don had cultivated prior to beginning to date always made him out to be the bad guy. It sounded childish to say that “he started it!” but it was typically true. He did start it, and Michael just finished it, though he rarely got the last laugh. Don just smiled, with those gold teeth (that he surprisingly didn’t hate as much once he found out why he had them), knowing he had gotten under Michael’s skin. Knowing he had caused a reaction.
Which was all he had ever wanted from Michael to start. To get closer to him and get under his skin. His initial attempts were just a roundabout way that was successful in some ways, and a complete failure in others. Maybe it was the maturity that came with growing older that allowed them to come to some sort of agreement that led to friendship and then eventually this , but some of the old childish antics still remained.
Don still loved to see him squirm. Loved to tease him and make him whine and fuss. Don told him that his pouting face was perfect, and that he resembled a disgruntled cat whenever he stuck out his bottom lip.
But unfortunately, while Michael could tolerate some of the simpler, sillier jabs, other times, he was still overwhelmed by the frustration that Don’s lackadaisical, laid back personality caused.
Like now. Not only was he terrified to get back in the car, lest Don dash them against the rocks, but he was also certain that they weren’t going the right way, and that they hadn’t been for the last thirty minutes. He had closed his eyes for just a short amount of time, hoping that maybe, once he opened them, they would be outside of their rental house and they could go inside and start a fire and just relax with a glass of wine and some of the snacks that they had picked up along the way. A nice first evening of their vacation, not tainted with Michael’s less than stellar mood.
But here they are, standing alongside the edge of the road, no longer sweaty and overheated, but frigid and stiff and disgruntled.
Michael felt the car shift as Don opened up the driver’s side door, stepping out into the cold with him. He heard the door slam shut, and noted that Don hadn’t turned the car off. Probably hoping he could coax his grumpy kitten back inside so they could be on their way. He heard the crunch of the rocks on the road as Don walked around the car, sliding up beside him and wrapping his thin arm around his shoulder. Michael didn’t look at him, still staring out at the snow and trees.
“Micha…tell me what’s wrong? I can’t figure out why you’re being so cold,” Don coaxed, leaning down to his ear to whisper to him. Michael shivered, shrugging his boyfriend’s arm off of his shoulder. He knew that was mean, but he was trying to not let the frustration this trip has already caused make him snap.
“Do you want to drive?” Don offered, figuring that that might appease him, but Michael responded by rolling his eyes.
“You know I don’t like to drive in the mountains. I already told you that.”
“I know, which is why I’ve driven this whole way, so you could relax. I promise I’ll slow down, so please, just get back in, Michael.” Don was not deterred, and wrapped an arm around his shoulder again. “Pretty please? We’re almost there I’m pretty sure.”
Huffing through his nose, Michael rolled his eyes once more. Tightening his arms tighter over his chest, he turned towards his boyfriend.
“Pretty sure? We’re lost, aren’t we?”
“Lost? What makes you think we’re lost?” Don grinned sweetly, trying to cover up his obvious lie. He was such a terrible liar when Michael was involved. Couldn’t tell even a small fib to save his life. He just scratched the back of his neck and tried to make himself look innocent, like he hadn’t ignored Michael the last three times he had asked where they were. Don had even pulled the classic “look over there” distraction by pointing out things in the passing scenery, hoping that would mean Michael would get off his back for just a second.
But nope, that was impossible because Micahel wasn’t exactly looking to get lost in the backwoods of the Alps. He just wanted to get there, safely, and relax with maybe something a bit stronger and warmer than the Italian red Don had stashed in the trunk of the car.
Throwing his hands in the air, Michael reached down to the handle of the door and pulled it open so he could get back inside. He looked at Don one last time with a scowl on his face.
“I know you can barely read, so I don’t know why I thought you could read a simple map. I will figure it out.”
Sliding into the car, Michael grabbed his phone and began searching up the address of the rental house. He noticed that Don stood by the side of the car for a moment before walking back around to the driver's seat. He slammed the door a bit harder than necessary, and fastened his seatbelt without saying a word. Michael ignored him as he pulled up the directions, and sure enough, Don had been taking a route that would eventually get them to St. Moritz, but an hour after they had planned. At least an hour, maybe two.
“Turn back the way we came, and I will tell you when to turn. The first turn will be a right.”
Don didn’t acknowledge him verbally, but followed the direction, peeling off the side of the road before driving almost maddeningly slowly until Michael gave him another direction.
By some small grace, they finally pulled onto the road of their rental. Finally, Michael spared a short glance at his boyfriend. He had spent the surprisingly short drive from their previous location trying to regulate his emotions, not engaging in small talk so as not to risk making himself upset again should Don give some quip that irritated him. He was happy that Don had given him the silence he needed, but even so, there was a tension in the air that Michael only noticed once he looked at him.
His jaw was set, his golden teeth clenched together inside of his mouth.Thin lips set in a frown, and hands clenching the steering wheel tightly. His bangs fell over the right side of his face, obscuring it from Micahel’s view, but he didn’t need to see it to know he had crossed a line.
The words had come out in the heat of the moment, though really, in hindsight, the bickering wasn’t so bad that he was justified in pulling out those words. There were certain things in Don’s life that you just didn’t joke about, because it genuinely wasn’t funny. He was the only one who was allowed to lightheartedly joke about his time on the streets and his childhood, because he was the only one to truly know what he went through.
Don had grown to trust him with these things. Namely, the details about the life he lived prior to meeting Michael. The life before his adopted father found him. The things he had to do to survive…. The things he didn’t get to do because survival was more important. He didn’t get to finish school. Didn’t get to have the normal experiences a child or teenager would have had. So not being able to read well… not a shock at all, though Michael was surprised the first time Don had shared this with him.
It was an insecurity. A shameful fact that Don was working hard to correct. It wasn’t like he couldn’t read at all. He was simply slower, having to think harder about the meaning of the words on the page. It was why he always preferred to call Michael on the phone rather than texting, and why he tried his hardest to not be caught looking like he wasn’t smart. He was very smart, actually, a fact that Michael had been amazed by when they actually started speaking more civilly. He probably would’ve been a great student, had life and his family not gotten in the way.
Michael knew it was wrong of him to attack his insecurities, something he really and truly couldn’t help, just to take out his frustration on his partner.
A weight of guilt hung in his stomach, twisting and turning and making him feel terrible. Don didn’t look at him as he turned off the car, getting out and walking to the trunk to grab their things. He was already heading to the door, bags in tow, when Michael got out of the car, locking it behind himself before following.
Punching in the code he was given for the rental, Michael allowed Don in first, letting him go in and set their things down. Even after rolling their suitcases to the bedroom and peeling off his outdoor coat, Don still did not look at Michael, instead busying himself with scoping out the home they would be sharing for the next week.
And because they would be alone with little escape for the next week, Michael knew he needed to put this awkward, tense air behind them once and for all so they could actually enjoy their holiday, rather than masquerading as a couple who is one bad fight away from a breakup.
When he finally decided that an apology was the only option, because it really was his fault this time, Michael found Don in front of the fireplace, sitting cross legged on the floor as he set a starter log aflame. Michael stood nearby, watching him with his hands folded in front of him, until Don acknowledged his presence by looking up at him.
His face was blank, devoid of any emotion. Michael would have felt better if Don still looked angry, or even sad, but this empty face was so unlike his boyfriend… and he hated himself for putting that look there.
After a deep inhale, steadying himself as he steeled himself for his least favorite thing, he finally spoke.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that back there. I know… I know you’re sensitive about your reading, so I shouldn’t have said anything just because I was mad.” Hanging his head, Michael stared down at the floor, unable to look Don in the eyes anymore. Sometimes, it was so hard to remember that he was a person with feelings too, simply because he was typically so happy and carefree. He hadn’t wanted to hurt him, but he had.
He finally lifted his head when he heard Don sigh and begin to lift himself from the ground. The fire had been started, and was now crackling away happily, in contrast to the thick layer of tension that hung between them.
Don, still silent, reached a hand out, gently grabbing the blue strand of Michael’s hair that hung over his shoulder. He ran his fingers over his hair, stroking it softly, lovingly, as he often did when he needed to ground himself. Michael didn’t stop him, he just watched Don’s face, feeling some relief as his expression finally softened and relaxed. Don never outright said that he was forgiven, but it was close enough.
After a moment, Don dropped his hair, reaching down to grab his hand instead. He held him tightly as he walked him to the fire, grabbing cushions off the nearby couch to toss onto the floor so that they had something to sit upon as they enjoyed the blaze. Don watched the fire for a moment, still holding Michael’s hand in his own. Michael was hesitant to say anything else, wanting to Don to at least verbally acknowledge his apology, or to say anything else.
“You know, I really wasn’t lost,” Don explained, finally breaking the silence. He shifted his gaze, finally looking upon Michael again. Don had looked at him so many times, but this time, it felt like a small blessing, knowing that Don wasn’t so angry anymore that he could once again look at his face. “I was actually taking us on a scenic route. I know it was a bit longer, but there was supposed to be a road that looked out over the town. I’ve heard it’s really pretty, and I thought you might like to see it.”
Michael bit the inside of his lip, realizing he had fucked up on more than one front. Being controlling and ruining Don’s surprise, and insulting his intelligence.
“I’m sorry…” Michael mumbled, apologizing again so that Don would understand how regretful he was. He very rarely apologized for anything, but he knew when he had to. “Maybe we can go back? Can we go now before we settle in?”
Don shook his head, looking at his watch briefly before giving Michael a regretful smile. “It’s going to get dark before we get back, and while you may not want to drive in the mountains at all, I definitely don’t want to drive in the mountains in the dark.”
“Oh… I’m sorry…” Apologizing once more for good measure, Michael squeezed Don’s fingers, hoping that he wouldn’t be upset for too much longer. There was still a sensation of regret and tension in the room, and he just wanted it gone. There was no room for any of that between them.
“It’s alright. Maybe another day. But, I guess I’ll have to give you the ring another time then, since even if we do go, we’ll only ever remember this fight when we think about it.”
Now Michael’s turn to be left speechless, he furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to process what Don had just said.
“Ring? What ring?”
“I didn’t say that,” Don responded, sly, feline smile on his face.
“Oh, you’re such a liar , Don,” Michael pouted, yanking his hand away as Don continued to grin.
“Oh! Yes, I did say ring. It’s in my luggage. Nice and shiny and new, even made out of a bit of gold, but I’m pretty sure you’d hate it anyway.” Don shrugged, pushing himself off the floor, and heading in the general direction of their bedroom. “Forget I said anything, unless you’d like to see it?”
Michael narrowed his eyes, feeling very clearly like he was being punked. He nodded his head, curious, but skeptical. Sure, they had known each other for years, but they were still relatively fresh in their relationship at just over a year in. It was nowhere near time for rings , especially not gold rings.
Don held his hand behind him when he returned, sitting beside Michael fireside before pulling out a black, drawstring velvet bag. Not even a box, just a little bag that fit in the palm of Don’s hand. Whatever scheme he was trying to pull was poorly concealed, and a goofy grin spread across his face as Michael plucked the bag from his palm, opening it to reveal the contents inside.
A gold ring was in fact in the bag, but it was much too big for any normal human’s finger. It was gold, but it felt too heavy to be real gold, and that combined with the size confused Michael as he inspected the piece.
“It’s our new cockring. Bought specially for the occasion, and only lightly used by myself to test it out for the trip.”
Gasping in disgust, Michael let the ring drop to the floor with a thud. Don laughed at the expression on Michael’s face, and leaned over to grab him by the hips, pushing him to the floor before he could make an escape.
“What, Micha? Don’t like it?”
Ah yes, this was the Don he knew best. The one who pulled pranks and teased him and made him pout. The playful, cheerful Italian that he called his boyfriend, however reluctantly that might be.
“I hate you,” Michael grumbled, struggling to get Don’s hands off of him as he tried to push himself off the floor, but he had no such luck. Despite being so skinny, Don was remarkably strong, and he used his height to his best advantage.
And that grin, that godawful grin that showed off his silly golden teeth, only spread as he struggled.
“Now who is the liar, Micha? I know you love me.”
And so what if he did?
What if he did? He knew he did. It was impossible to not love someone like Don. He was under his skin, just like his goal was all along. Michael didn’t know what he would do without him now, and the thought of ever losing him was like a brick in his stomach.
Kissing Michael’s cheek, Don finally allowed him up, grabbing the ring from the floor and tucking it away in its bag once again. Don’s smile was still wide, crooked and genuine as he looked at Michael. Sometimes, he wondered what Don saw when he looked at him like that, because he rarely said it out loud.
“I love you so much, Micha…”
And sometimes he did.
He was really, exactly what Michael needed, and Michael just wished he could always be what Don needed, too.
He didn’t want to be the one to make him sad.
“I love you, too, Don…” Michael mumbled, still unused to saying it out loud. He cast his gaze to the floor, knowing that soft smile on Don’s face had shifted to one of pure joy, as it always did whenever Michael said those words out loud.
And Michael loved that, even if it was hard to look upon sometimes, because it was hard to imagine anyone being that happy that someone like Michael Kaiser loved him.
But he did. And even if it was uncomfortable, he would say it.
As long as it continued to make Don that happy.