Work Text:
It’s a late afternoon as Michael is gone for dayshift at the pizzeria. This isn’t new at all, he’s gone to work practically every single day, yet you can’t help but miss him a lot more than usual.
The view doesn’t help either, the weather being hazy and grey after a light morning rain. It could be the seasonal depression talking, as you’ve been feeling a lot more down lately and you don’t know why. It doesn’t even matter if Michael’s back from his dayshift, as a couple hours later, he has to go pizzeria for his night shift all by himself. There’s simply not enough hours to spend time with him, and you're always spending both the day and night waiting for him to come back.
With a sigh, you haul yourself out of bed, although it feels like a 90 pound weight is lifted on you even with such a small action, your movements feeling sluggish and heavy despite not even doing anything. Your eyes feel like it's just barely open as you struggle to focus on your surroundings, even if it's the same room and house you’ve lived in for all this time. Maybe that’s the reason. Maybe you’ve lived in this house so much everything starts bleeding into each other.
You aren’t sure what to do to pass the time.
Make yourself a cup of coffee to try and get through today? Distract yourself with TV until your mind goes numb? It’s the same goddamn routine every same goddamn day, and you’re trying to find some shiny new thing to occupy yourself with until he gets back.
It’s then you find a peculiar looking book laying on the kitchen counter. A brown book with the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria’s mascots drawn on the cover. The cover says “Security Logbook”, but the “Security” is replaced by the word “Survival”, written in a hasty red pen. Michael’s. You can recognize it anywhere. That peculiar red scrawl.
With the thought that this is Michael’s (The inside cover even had the name “Mike” written on it), drawing you to this peculiar book, you open it up and start flipping through the pages, carrying yourself over to the kitchen to a comfortable spot on the couch.
From what you can tell, this was supposed to be some kind of logbook the establishment gave to their guards, but it looked more like a children’s activity book than anything else, (You wouldn’t be surprised if it was, and they just..didn’t say otherwise.) the mascots of the Freddy Fazbear establishment littering every page just to make sure you knew exactly which company this belonged to.
You scoff at that. Well, at least there’s a lot of Foxy in this book. You knew he was Michael’s favorite, ever since he was little, and he even kept the plush and mask of him he used to have when he was a child. Although the memories of the latter were partially stained as he used it to terrorize his little brother. The book is filled with basic questionnaires and puzzles to help distract the average guard during their work at the pizzeria. They look harmless, but knowing Freddy’s, it’s probably just a way to cover up all their wrongdoings. And Michael too, likely knows this, judging by the way he answered all these questions. You can just imagine him grumbling to himself as he filled out this book begrudgingly, trying to pass the time during shifts. He’s always been a sarcastic person, it’s one of your favorite parts about him, and you can just hear it coming through his answers.
“List ten reasons why applying to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza seemed like a good idea at the time.”
The book says.
His answer? “Employees get free pizza.”
You snicker at that. Obviously it’s not, and the answer is certainly more..complicated. (To say the least.) But it’s such a Michael answer that you can’t help but laugh. And if you try hard enough, you can almost imagine that adorable laughter of his as he’s reading it with you, as if he was never gone in the first place.
You skim through the pages as you see the small remarks he’s written toward the animatronic characters, the Michael you know and love shining through in every single one.
An illustration of Freddy Fazbear as a stand up comedian, Michael’s scrawl saying “Not funny!!!” in the corner. Him crossing out mentions of “success”, with “survival” hastily.
But there were also a lot of answers that showed off who he was as a person, and revealed a lot about himself despite seeming simple at first.
One of the prompts said to “List ten bad habits you would like to break.”
“Chewing gum excessively”, is what he wrote, which in of itself started from his smoking habit. He started chewing bubble gum now instead of cigarettes, and it certainly tastes better, although he’s still prone to smoking during work and leaving them strewn on the floors after his shifts. He’s gotten in trouble for it several times by his managers for “giving the place a bad image.” (And not the several child murders they managed to get away with.) The image of that cracks a smile out of you without you even noticing.
Something about being in shape and planning some activities for the week. The answers read “Run five miles”, “Run even faster”, “Take a self defense class”. The thought of that makes your cheeks heat up just slightly.
You saw him work out a few times, another habit he picked up to try and better his mental and physical health, and he looked sexy as hell doing it. You remember him using one of the lifting machines that you had in your garage during the summer. Sleeveless top, forehead and arms glistening with sweat, his thin shirt just barely riding up to reveal his navel and the line of hair that disappeared down his sweatpants...
Your mind was racing with thoughts of being trapped underneath those biceps of his, and once he realized what you wanted, he was sweeping you off your feet and carrying you to the bedroom, laughing and kicking your feet all the while.
You wondered how someone like him could be so cute yet so hot?
You flip through the pages until you find one that catches your eye. One with a surprisingly detailed drawing in the corner for what was supposed to be another one of his doodles he drew with his red pen while bored at work. The question read,
“If you were a child, what prizes would you want to see behind the prize counter? Draw them here.”
In the corner was an elaborate drawing of a guy (probably himself) riding a jetski amidst a tropical beach, holding large bags filled with cash money. He even drew arrows pointing at himself and the scene saying things like “Free trip!” and “Cash money!”.
The scene itself was wonderfully goofy like all of his drawings, and yet, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of sadness because of it.
He wants to take you on a tropical vacation one day. Somewhere like Los Angeles where he can smell the sea salt and feel the warm sun amidst his skin with you by his side. Alas, he was stuck here in Hurricane. Stuck working in dingy animatronic restaurants shadowed by a dark past.
He once joked that he would’ve bought you a wedding ring already had Freddy’s paid him better. You wonder if a part of him said that because he really wishes he could, but he’s condemning himself to stay here in Utah.
You know he does this because he’s uncovering the truth about his father and bringing justice for his victims. But you also know he’s doing this because he himself can’t let his past go. He can’t let himself rest or properly forgive himself for what he’s done, so he feels trapped. But you want nothing more than for him to be free. You want your dream honeymoon with all the cash money you guys could want. But for now, it’s left only on this page as a hopeful dream. And you hope it doesn’t have to stay one for long, because it sounds so perfect you could almost taste it.
He’s always been a good artist, that much was a given. It was one of his few ways of expressing himself ever since he was little. It helped reveal his more sensitive side. One that he doesn’t let himself show often. And nothing revealed that more than one of the last pages of the logbook, a small gasp escaping you when you saw it.
The page itself was littered with messy red hearts, as if he was back in his teen years doodling about silly high school crushes into his notebooks, and maybe he was while drawing this. Complete with him trying to stifle that stupid, adorable fucking giggle and kicking his feet.
And the best of all? It’s all because of you.
The question at the top of the page read, “List ten people you would like to see at the end of the day”, and at the top read…your name. Written in his perfect red scrawl.
Because of course, he thinks about you. Because of course, he misses you every minute and hour he’s away from work, because of course, you're his reason to live and keep going despite everything else he’s been through. The person he wants to fight every day, just so he can fall back into your arms once more.
A part of you wonders why he only keeps this to himself in a logbook of all places. He’s always been a secretive person, and not entirely good with his words, but you don’t need that to understand how much he loves you. Rather he’s always shown it through the little things, the actions that speak louder than words. He might not say that he loves you directly, but he can write a million love letters to you, draw a million portraits of you in the way only he could. And it truly warms your heart to realize that he has always longed for you the way you longed for him.
You’ve gotten yourself so engrossed in his logbook that you didn’t realize it was 6pm, and Michael was back from his shift. You don’t hear him fumbling with the keys and unlocking the door, but you do hear that lovely british accent of his greeting you as he says;
“Hey love! I’m back from my shift and–”
He pauses, looking down at you on the couch, looking rather amused.
“Hey…is that my logbook you're holding there?”
He asks, and you hug the logbook to yourself in a failed attempt to hide it after being surprised by appearance.
“I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to steal it just-”
He stops you with a wave of his hand, seating himself on the couch.
“It’s fine, it’s fine, I figured I left it in the house after not being able to find it at work today." He raises his eyebrow. "What, did you enjoy reading my private diary?”
You snicker.
“Yeah, your answers in this book were really funny.”
You reply, and he chuckles back. “Good, I’m glad.”
He’s able to relax himself on the couch after he sits down on it. He needs it after hours of standing around and watching hyperactive children all day. You reach out to hug him, despite him still clad in his grimy uniform and he embraces you back like it’s a natural instinct.
“I missed you Mike…” You say with the utmost sincerity. Even just reading that freaking logbook had you almost tearing up for him, despite how stupid it may sound. He only coos at that, stroking your back and resting his lips against the crown of your hair.
“I missed you too, love. I always do.”
And you know he’s telling the truth, based on the way he wrote about you in that book. He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of you that he missed for so long, stroking your back in a comforting gesture. For others, it's probably a bit dramatic, it’s really just a normal 9-to-6 that he’s gone for, but for you two, it’s everything.
“I just feel like we never have enough time to hang out together. I mean I know you're gone for a reason but…” You murmur in a way that feels as if you didn’t mean to say it out loud, but now that Michael was here, you couldn’t help but say your inner thoughts out loud, not knowing how Michael would react to it.
He thinks on your words for a moment with a hum, continuing to rest his chin on the top of your head. Then, he pulls you away just slightly so that you can look at him, his (unfairly gorgeous) blue eyes twinkling with partial excitement.
“Hey, how about this. How about I call off my night shift tonight and we can go out for dinner? Maybe try that one bar you always wanted to go to?"
You pause at that. “Wait, actually? I mean I know I said that you're always busy but still, I wouldn’t want you to ditch your job…”
You just said you were sad over how busy Michael always is, yet you didn’t actually expect him to straight up say he would ditch his job on the spot for you. He shrugs nonchalantly.
“I would choose you over my job anytime.” He says as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. The way he says it so casually yet so confidently makes your heart skip a beat. He then smiles knowingly.
“Besides, Freddy’s hates me and I hate them. If they want to fire me for choosing you over working in their shitty restaurant then so be it.”
“And get another pink slip for the 5th job in a row?” You ask with a raised eyebrow as he sits himself off the couch with you following suit.
A click of his tongue. “Eh, might as well go for a world record.”
You laugh at that, because he really could if a record like that existed. You always joked that he was destined to get himself fired from every job he worked at. You playfully slap his shoulder as the two walk to your bedroom together.
“You’re insufferable.”
“You love it.”
You do. But you’re too prideful to admit that so you just stick to rolling your eyes. As you hold the logbook in your hands he asks,
“So, did you see the page with the red hearts in it?”
“I did. Don’t tell me you drew them while thinking of me, Mike.”
“I did. Maybe next time, I’ll draw an entire portrait for you.”