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Awsten hadn’t meant for it to happen.
It just kind of did: Michael was in front of him, inching closer and closer for the final shot. The routine was already ingrained in him: Michael lurches forward, he pulls back a little to avoid their lips meeting, someone yells “cut!”, and it’s over.
But they’d already done so many takes of Michael breathing the same air as him, so close their lips could brush but still too far to touch. He’d looked so gorgeous all day – right now, especially, in the set lighting, looking at Awsten, eyes flickering down to his lips, looking like he could devour him whole.
Awsten wishes he would. He is going insane.
Michael, in front of him, is leaning forward again for at least the seventeenth time, eyes flicking down and lips falling open the slightest bit. He looks so enticing, and Awsten wanted nothing more than to press their lips together. But he couldn’t – not in front of so many people, and not with Michael especially.
Sweet, gorgeous Michael, always lively, always there, and so hardworking. Michael, one of Awsten’s best friends, who he’s been in love with since playing She’s Kinda Hot onstage with 5 Seconds of Summer seven years ago.
He couldn’t kiss him. Not now, not ever. That’s something he’d accepted a long time ago, but this damn shot wasn’t making it any easier. Especially, when, the entire time, the closing line of the script they’d written was playing over and over in his head:
“What if the ending wasn't what anyone expected?”
Michael lurches forward again, eyes locked on Awsten’s lips. Awsten pulls back automatically.
“Cut!”
“It’s not quite right,” Michael says as they rewatch the shot just a minute later. “It looks a little forced.” Awsten has to agree, even though he wishes he didn’t. They’re both extremely nitpicky with this music video – a collaboration between them is something people have wanted to see for a very long time. They have to get it right.
Michael immediately turns to the cameraman, asking about doing another shot before turning to step back on set. Awsten sighs, accepting that he’d have to get indescribably close to what he wants the most knowing he can never have it yet again today, before following.
As he turns, he catches Otto’s eye, sitting on one of the tables by the wall. He’s the only one who knows about Awsten’s crush, and he raises an eyebrow at the other silently. Awsten isn’t quite sure what that means.
And then they’re back to filming again, and Michael is abruptly lurching forward with flawless, practiced movements, wet lips glistening in the lighting. This time, however, despite the number of run-throughs they’d had, and the number of braincells screaming at him not to, something in Awsten snaps. Instead of pulling back slightly as he’d been doing for what felt like hours now, Awsten pushes forward too, eyes flickering shut.
Their lips meet, and it’s like everything in his life aligns.
Michael presses a little too hard, and Awsten has to pull back a little, but Michael’s lips follow and then they’re adjusting, falling into a rhythm. Awsten’s head is spinning, because holy shit, this is really happening. The noises around him fade out, and he feels like a teenager having his first kiss all over again: it’s just him, Michael, and their lips moving against each other’s. It’s perfect, and it’s all Awsten has ever wanted.
And then someone yells “Cut!” and it all comes rushing back in.
The spinning of Awsten’s head becomes far too much as he registers how many people are in the room, all silently watching them. Michael is pulling away, mouth forming a grin. Awsten’s heart is racing, but he manages a weak smile back anyway. He isn’t sure if the shakiness he feels is euphoria or panic.
Holy shit.
Michael’s eyes shine. Awsten opens his mouth, but the other beats him to it.
“Dude, that was perfect.”
Awsten’s smile widens. He can’t believe this is actually happening. “Yeah, it was.”
Michael doesn’t stop there, though. “That was exactly the shot we needed! Great thinking, man.”
And Awsten’s world comes crashing down.
Right. That was for filming. The music video. Of course. It didn’t mean anything.
“Right. Thanks.” He manages to choke out, smile shifting off his face in what he hopes is a natural movement. Tears spring to his eyes; in the corner of his vision, he sees Otto stand, sliding off the table. He forces himself to not acknowledge it; if the other sees him, he knows he’ll start crying. Michael is saying something about watching the clip, practically bouncing with excitement, and Awsten is incapable of doing anything but nodding even though the ground is shifting out from under his feet.
As they watch the clip back, Awsten realizes that Michael was right: it is the perfect shot. It looks so natural, so real. Awsten sees his own adoration for Michael reflected in the footage. His eyes shine with love, he realizes, and suddenly he can’t take it anymore.
Michael is still talking, but Awsten cuts him off.
“I–I gotta, uh, yeah. I’ll be right back. Don’t wait for me.” He chokes out, voice cracking as he says it. He avoids the eyes of everyone in the room – Otto especially – as he stumbles toward the door out. He refuses to look back as his hands push down on the door handle once, twice, goddammit, three times before the shitty metal door opens and he practically falls through, almost sprinting down the hallway. Geoff calls after him questioningly, and then Michael does, too, but he ignores it.
You knew you couldn’t have it all, he tells himself, tears blurring his vision, and then you went and tried anyway. What were you thinking?
He steps out of the building, glancing up at the sun. It’s a beautiful day – one he’d normally spend doing fun shit with his friends, or going for a long, peaceful walk, or maybe even finding a nice sunny café to work from. Today, though, he can’t even keep his eyes on the gorgeous clear blue sky. A single hot tear slides down his cheek, and he rubs at it angrily.
God, Awsten. How could you have been so stupid?
––––––––––––
Awsten ends up having a panic attack over it.
It’s stupid, and he knows that, but he can’t control his brain. He keeps thinking about Michael’s lips, the way they moulded together perfectly with his, the way he tasted, way he looked at him…
The number of people in the room, watching them, knowing this wasn’t meant to happen.
This was never meant to happen.
“What if the ending wasn't what anyone expected?”
Oh my fucking god.
It takes Awsten half an hour of walking around blindly on the streets to calm down, and another twenty minutes to realize he’d left his phone on set. Normally, he wouldn’t mind, knowing one of his friends would give it to him, but Otto and Geoff are flying out today, and he wasn’t even sure if he’d see them again before they left. He feels like an asshole, doing something stupid and then running away without even saying goodbye to his best friends.
Michael could also give him his phone; Awsten doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t think he could bear to be near him again. Not for a while, at least. Not when he’d gone and kissed one of his closest friends and then got rejected through the guise of professionalism. Thinking about it almost makes him fall back into a panic attack again, so Awsten resorts going back right before they lock up the building for his phone and praying nobody takes it. Until then, he refuses to think about it.
The rest of Awsten’s shitty afternoon is spent blindly wandering the streets; he ends up lost, finds his way back to somewhere he recognizes, and then gets lost again. He ends up having to ask for directions in some random café that looks more like a crime front than anything else. He knows he could take an Uber back, but if he sits in the same spot for that long with his thoughts, he might explode.
The cashier puts him back on track, and soon he’s approaching the building where he ruined it all again, half-drunk iced coffee in his hand. It feels like his heart isn’t even beating anymore but rather vibrating in its spot in his chest with a force that threatens to tear it apart. Awsten reaches the door, tossing the cup in the trash nearby, so nervous that he feels no air enter his lungs with the breaths he takes. Still, he knows he can’t hide from the rejection forever – even if it’s the only thing he wants to do right now.
Awsten reaches for the door handle. It’s locked.
Fuck.
“Need a key?”
Awsten freezes, whirling around.
It’s Otto.
“Hey, man.” He steps closer, keys dangling from his fingers. He sounds amused at Awsten’s surprise, but there’s also a hint of softness in his eyes.
“Dude,” Awsten chokes out after a minute, “you can’t just sneak up on people like that!” Then, a pause later: “Do you have my phone? I left it here when, uh. Yeah. It was on the dressing table.”
Otto shakes his head, still holding out the keys silently. Awsten reaches forward to snatch the key from his hands without hesitation, but the drummer tightens his grip on them, pulling back slightly.
“You okay?” Awsten furrows his brows. “We were worried about you. You stormed out so fast.” The younger drops his head, an abrupt wave of shame coursing through him again.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just… I had to get out. I’ll be fine, though.”
Otto’s eyes soften fully. “I know.” He seems to consider saying something else, but lets it go for now. His hands loosen their grip around the keys, and he hands them to Awsten.
“Where’s Geoff?” Awsten asks, fingers twisting around the keys in attempt to soothe his still-lingering anxiety.
“Already at the airport. I’m going there now, too.” As he says it, a car pulls into the parking lot beside them. The side of it reads Uber.
Awsten winces, feeling a little bit more awful. “Tell him I’m sorry. And to have a safe flight.”
Otto smiles slightly. “He’s not upset, but he knows something is up. I haven’t told him yet, don’t worry.” He adds the last part quickly at Awsten’s panicked expression.
“Please don’t tell him. Give me some time.”
“Alright. I can do that.” Otto doesn’t ask why he kissed Michael. Maybe he knows. Either way, Awsten is grateful.
They stand in silence for a moment, observing one another. Otto has that look in his eyes again, an eyebrow slightly raised; Awsten still doesn’t know what it could mean.
The Uber honks beside them, shattering the moment. Otto looks at the driver, nodding before turning back to Awsten. “I have to catch my flight.”
Awsten suddenly realizes he really doesn’t want the other to leave. He pulls him into the tightest hug he’s capable of. Otto gives as good as he gets, squeezing the other tightly. They stand like that for the few seconds they can afford, but then Otto’s pulling away again. Awsten manages a smile of sorts.
“Have a safe flight.”
“Thanks.” Otto smiles. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Otto is gone before Awsten can ask why he’d say that. He chooses not to dwell on it, though – enough has happened today already. He unlocks the door and making his way back to the set; his phone is exactly where he left it, face up on the dressing table. A quick glance at it shows a number of notifications, missed calls and texts – they probably hadn’t realized he left his phone behind. Awsten runs a hand through his hair, sighing and pocketing it to deal with later. As he lifts his head, though, he spots movement in the mirror. At first, he assumes it’s a crew member he hadn’t noticed, but then they move again, and Awsten would recognize that blond-black hair anywhere.
“Hey, Awsten.”
His blood runs cold,. So this is why Otto had told him to not do anything stupid.
Fuck. Shit. Motherfucker.
“Can we talk?”
Awsten swallows heavily, trying to get rid of the sudden dryness in his throat. “What is there to talk about?” He doesn’t turn around.
“What do you mean? Awsten… can you please look at me?”
He has no choice but to turn, eyes meeting Michael’s automatically. His eyes are red, but he looks determined. Awsten feels like shit. His hands shake, automatically finding a ring to fiddle with as he leans against the dresser. He feels like he can’t breathe.
“You left so fast.” Michael says, after an awkward pause. Awsten flinches. “We were worried.”
“I’m sorry.” He manages after a moment. “I, uh. I didn’t mean to force myself on you like that.”
Michael furrows his brows. “What are you talking about? I–”
Awsten continues, though, unable to stop the word vomit once it had begun, eyes fixated on the floor. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I really didn’t mean to kiss you, it just kind of happened. Not that I didn’t want to! But I didn’t mean to do it like this. I never meant to hurt you, but, God, you looked so beautiful, and you were so close for so many fucking takes back to back and I’ve been in love with you for so long that– I–I couldn’t help myself. And then you kissed back, and I thought it would be okay, but then you pulled away and I panickedbecause– oh my god.” It takes a few moments for Awsten to register what he’d just said, face paling. Michael stares at him, mouth agape, and Awsten wishes the ground would swallow him whole. He can’t even bring himself to run away; he’s frozen in place.
After a moment of heavy silence, Michael chokes out a response. “You– What– you kissed me?”
Out of every possible response. Awsten can’t help but choke out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I did. And I’m sorry.” He feels like he could cry again.
“I– I thought I was the one who kissed you.”
“What?
“Awsten,” Michael steps forward, eyes gleaming indecipherably. Awsten wants to back away, but he has nowhere to go. “Did you mean it?”
“What?”
“When you kissed me. Did you mean it?”
“Wha– why does that matter?”
“Just answer me. Please.” Michael is in front of him now, almost as close as when they were recording. Awsten straightens up in a last effort to save the last shreds of his dignity.
“I–“ Awsten cuts himself off. He can’t lie about this, no matter what it costs him. He forces himself to meet Michael’s eyes before responding. “Yes.”
A small smile is making its way onto Michael’s face. “So you did mean it.”
Awsten nods shakily. His heart feels like it’s gonna leap out of his chest.
“Because I meant it too. And I can’t believe it took Otto talking some sense into me to realize how much I want to kiss you again. And again and again, if you’ll let me.”
Awsten can’t believe this is actually happening, a small smile making its way onto his face. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.”
Suddenly, Awsten feels a little bit braver than before. “The kiss in the music video” – a weight falls off Awsten’s chest as he finally says it out loud and finds no negative connotation anymore – “was a little bit sloppy, don’t you think?” Michael furrows his brows, but the smile stays. “I think we need some more practice.”
“Yeah. I suppose you’re right.” Now they’re both smiling, inches away from each other, and Awsten feels like his heart is gonna leap out of his chest again, for an entirely different reason this time.
He’s not quite sure who goes for it first. Maybe it’s a joint effort, like the first time, except that this time there’s no crew and no cameras – just them in an empty studio.
When their lips meet again, it’s like Awsten’s heart actually bursts out of his chest.
It’s perfect: their lips move together flawlessly, as if they’d practiced it. Awsten’s hands fly up to Michael’s neck, pulling him closer and tangling in his hair. They stay like that for a couple more seconds before pulling away; Awsten struggles to open his eyes, overwhelmed with it all. When he does, he finds Michael’s immediately. They’re wide with awe, and a pretty blush is making its way onto his cheeks. Awsten feels his own cheeks warm at the sight. His lips look so kissable, and, well, Awsten can kiss him whenever he wants to now, because Michael is okay with it – likes it, even – so he does exactly that, leaning forward to peck Michael’s lips once, twice, three times, his hand pressing against the other’s chest.
“Am I dreaming?” He whispers against the other’s lips after a moment.
“I hope not, because I need this to be real.” After a pause, Michael adds: “If I would’ve known you loved me too, I would’ve done this so much sooner.” Michael smiles down at the older, voice low, eyes sparkling. It reminds Awsten of the look he’d seen on his own face on the recording hours earlier. Adoration. Love, even.
“How would you have done it?” Awsten asks, though he’d much rather spend this time kissing than talking.
“I would’ve gone somewhere a little more private. Away from all this,” Michael says, gesturing to the set. His voice lowers further, to a tone that makes Awsten’s stomach burn with something far different to butterflies “Just you and me, maybe some nice dinner. Maybe we’d go for a nice walk after, to somewhere quiet. Watch the sunset together. And then I’d kiss you in front of a gorgeous view.”
“I’m not opposed to you doing all of that now, either,” Awsten responds, voice coming out a lot breathier than anticipated. “Especially the kissing part.”
Michael laughs softly, lips brushing Awsten’s as he does so, and then they’re kissing again. This time it’s different, though, heat rising between them. Awsten’s grip tightens on Michael’s shirt, pulling him as close as he can. Michael’s hands grip his waist; suddenly, he’s being lifted onto the dresser behind him, the wood creaking with the added weight. He pushes forward, hooking his legs around Michael and pressing their chests together. Michael strokes his cheek with his thumb, the other hand tightening his grip on Awsten’s waist as their lips move in tandem. He presses forward harder; he wants to crawl under Michael’s skin.
And then Michael is abruptly pulling away, leaving Awsten to chase his lips subconsciously.
“Woah.” Michael whispers, voice hoarse, lips swollen from the kissing. His eyes flicker back down to Awsten’s lips, which he assumes look similar. “We should’ve done this a long time ago. We could’ve even practiced for the music video together.”
“Well,” Awsten responds, momentarily startled at the roughness of his own voice, “we have forever to practice now.”
Michael smiles, pressing their lips together again. Awsten is still processing all of it happening. He really does wish he could stay like this forever.
Michael seemingly has other plans though. He bites at Awsten’s lip and then pulls away; the noise the latter lets out is embarrassingly close to a whimper. He sees Michael bite back a smile at the noise before he tilts his head down, placing a kiss directly onto the middle of Awsten’s throat. Awsten’s mouth drops open at the sensation, and he tilts his head up to give the other more space. Michael smiles against his neck as he places a few more kisses before he settles his lips directly over Awsten’s jugular, grazing his teeth over the skin before biting down gently.
“Oh my god,” Awsten whispers out loud, blood rushing through his ears at the feeling. Michael laughs softly before continuing his journey.
He loses himself in it, gradually, unsure of how much time passes. It could be anywhere between ten minutes to an hour; Awsten isn’t sure, and he doesn’t quite care either. Not when Michael is pressed against him like this. It’s like they’ve been doing this for years, and he never wants to stop.
Michael lifts his head, attempting to catch his breath. Awsten doesn’t let him, pressing their lips together again desperately. He never wants to let him go.
“So, I forgot my jacket, but I can come back another time if y’all are busy.” The two fly apart abruptly at the sound of Sara’s voice; they hadn’t even heard the door open. Awsten feels stupidly embarrassed as he meets her eyes, chest heaving. He can’t believe they got caught like that.
“No–no, don’t worry. You can, uh, just grab it now. We’re not doing anything– just, uh. go ahead. Yeah.” Michael manages beside him, clearly thrown off-kilter just as much as Awsten.
“Uh huh,” Sara mumbles, a grin spreading on her face as she walks over to the chair in the corner of the room. The two watch her silently, an awkward silence filling the room. Sara grabs her jacket silently, tossing it over her arm before turning back to leave. She’s visibly trying to hide the amusement on her face. It isn’t working too well.
Sara grips the door handle, pulling the door open halfway before turning back to the duo. She winks, a full grin on her face now. “Have fun, boys.” She says, stepping out, the door shutting behind her with a click. They can hear her giggle in the hallway as she leaves.
“Oh my god,” Michael manages after a moment.
Awsten buries his face in Michael’s shoulder. His face is on fire, his own shoulders shaking against the taller’s.
“Hey,” Michael asks, voice softening, “What’s wrong?” His hand comes up to brush against Awsten’s hair with what the older soon realizes is concern. He pulls away, eyes meeting Michael’s, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Michael gradually mirrors his grin, visibly relieved.
“Did you see the look on her face?” Awsten manages eventually, sending them both into fits of laughter. The easy joy of being around Michael – now with the added benefit of kissing – is so far from how Awsten had felt in the past hours. He can’t even begin to describe the relief at it all working out.
Once they settle down, he reaches forward to wipe a tear from the corner of Michael’s eye, movements gentle under the gaze of the other’s warm eyes. Awsten wraps his arms around Michael, laying his head back on the taller’s shoulder; he fits there perfectly. Michael places a kiss on the top of his head where he can reach, sliding his hands from Awsten’s hips to wrap around him too.
“I love you too, by the way, in case you haven’t realized yet.” Michael says after a moment, voice soft from above Awsten. The latter just smiles, feeling the last bit of the anxious weight he’d been carrying all afternoon drop off his shoulders. “But don’t ever disappear on me like that again, Awsten. I was so worried.”
“Okay,” Awsten mumbles back, pressing a lazy kiss to the side of Michael’s neck. “I won’t. Promise.”
He’s suddenly so tired from the day’s events; he swears he could fall asleep right here, right now. Michael probably senses it, and he begins to rock them side to side gently, humming a song Awsten can’t identify.
Awsten is already halfway to falling asleep when Michael slows his movements. “Stay with me tonight.” Awsten just nods; any arrangement where he can stay close to Michael tonight works just fine for him.
“Come on. Let’s go home.” Michael pulls away softly after another minute; Awsten makes an unhappy noise at the cold air, but pulls away, too, standing on shaky feet. He yawns, and Michael wraps an arm around his shoulder, gently guiding them out of the room in a peaceful quiet. It’s almost fully dark out, and Awsten leans against the wall beside the door while Michael locks it. He’s above asking the other to carry him, but not by much.
They make their way to Michael’s car together, fingers tangling together easily in the darkness of the empty parking lot. When they sit inside, Michael turns to Awsten before starting the car, placing another quick kiss on his lips just because he can.
“Just so you know, when I said it was perfect, I meant the kiss, too.” Awsten grins, leaning against the window. He reaches over, catching Michael’s hand as it reaches for the gearshift.
“I know.”
Awsten watches the other get comfortable, more content in this moment than he’s been with anything in a long time. As he does, he continues to think about that one line from the script.
“What if the ending wasn't what anyone expected?”
“Alright,” Michael says, starting the car. “Let’s go home.”
And, sitting there, in Michael’s car, gripping his hand, half asleep, Awsten finds there’s no place he’d rather be.