Work Text:
Mike doesn’t want to be here, not really.
He’s at a party that is unbearably close, crushing - it’s a familiar experience, but despite his party boy attitude, he’s never liked it. He likes getting drunk, and kissing girls, and kissing girls while drunk, or breaking shit that belongs to the parents of his absurdly rich friends (how the hell had he ended up with them, again?), and running from cops when they inevitably arrive. But he’s new in town, and he only came here because his only friends invited him, having instantly recognised his Coolness Potential. He wishes he could thank them for that; there’s a pleasant warmth in his body from the small amount of alcohol he’s drunk and he’s feeling sentimental, but Jess slipped away to play drinking games hours ago and Emily and Matt were probably making sure she didn’t choke on her own vomit or something.
So Mike is alone. Count that as another strike against this party. He’s standing with his back against the wall holding his drink like some sort of fucking loser, the anxious main character of a movie who’s destined to meet his One And Only Beloved while holding a red solo cup. They’ll run away to Seattle where they can drink hipster coffee and she’ll teach him how to loosen up and stop focusing so much on success, and then he becomes president. All because she decided to talk to his lonely ass while Skrillex blasted over the speakers.
Stuck in these thoughts and feeling lonelier for it, Mike decides to get some food. The house the party is is unbelievably huge. Jess had told him it was where the children of some famous horror movie producer Mike has never heard of live. Everything is gilded, and it’s fucking huge - three stories, with a fucking elevator and helipad on the roof. Who the fuck needs a helipad? Do these people generally have other Hollywood bigshots visit by helicopter? At this point, Mike wouldn’t be surprised if someone told him the President of the United States had visited. He doesn’t even know if he’s going to be able to stress eat. Everything is impossible to find, with the amount of rooms here.
Oh, fuck. He’s going to have to ask someone, isn’t he?
Yeah, he’s gonna have to do that.
Shit.
“Excuse me,” Mike says, with no particular target in mind. The crush of dancing bodies against him as he tries to find someone to help him is suffocating. Some people move out of the way, thinking he means to get somewhere, which he does, but he doesn’t know where, and it’s killing him. “Excuse me?” Mike repeats, louder, feeling like a goddamn fool. Nobody’s going to listen to him. Nobody fucking hears him. People are shoving him around, the music is way too loud, and he’s going to die in this impromptu mosh pit in the middle of some spoiled brat’s house -
“Need some help, buddy?”
Mike looks to the source of the voice, his guardian angel, his new best fucking friend. It’s a guy around his height, stocky build, smarmy smile, dark skin and darker hair. He’s wearing plaid, and next to him is a taller blonde with glasses and an arm around the Guardian Bro, clearly drunk and in need of support.
“Yes,” Mike says, trying to avoid the sigh of relief that’s threatening to give away how much he needs some help. “Yes, thank you.”
Guardian Bro holds out his hand and Mike takes it, letting him guide Mike through the crowd and into an in-home theatre where various snacks are laid out on the counter to the left side of the room. Mike wants to gravitate to them immediately, but Guardian Bro is looking at him rather expectantly.
“Thanks. Thank you,” Mike says again. “I’m really - I was pretty lost. This place is - it’s ridiculous. I don’t know how anyone lives here.”
“Always there for someone in need,” Guardian Bro says, in a slow drawl that Mike can’t help but find soothing.
“You two’re still holding hands!” Blondie declares, giggling. Mike jerks his hand back, unsure how he didn’t notice. Guardian Bro’s hand was warm, just like his voice, and pretty hard to miss.
“I’m Josh,” Guardian Bro - Josh - says, apparently unfazed by Blondie’s declaration and Mike’s reaction. “The drunk asshole is Chris.”
“Not an asshole,” Blondie - Chris - informs, indignant, before leaning harder on Josh and muttering, “I mean, sometimes.”
“Wow,” says Mike, and immediately he wants to punch himself in the face.
“Yeah, you get used to it.” Josh adjusts his grip on Chris and smiles again. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Mike. Mike Munroe.”
“Oh, you’re Jess and Em’s bro!”
“They told you about me?” Mike narrows his eyes. As much as he likes his friends, they can be real dickheads.
“Yeah. Jess told me she was bringing you to the party. She said you’d been shy for someone pretty outgoing, and thought this might help.” Josh starts heading to the theatre seats and beckons for Mike to follow, placing Chris carefully on the recliner. Mike admires the way Josh is so gentle, even going so far to smooth out Chris’ shirt as he sits him down. He takes a moment to get a closer look at the both of them and notes that Chris has light grey eyes, and the way light reflects off Josh’s skin. They seem comfortable around each other, unbothered by sobriety. Mike feels a pang of something akin to jealousy, though he can’t place why. He blames it on the alcohol.
(That is to say, the two drinks he’s had.)
“She really said that?” Mike tries not to be conscious of how he replied a bit late because of his staring. God, he’s a mess tonight.
“She did,” Chris informs helpfully. “She talks a lot, though. And you seem nice! Doesn’t he seem nice, Josh?” Chris giggles. Mike can smell his breath from here, and he isn’t sure how Josh isn’t flinching away.
“He does,” Josh replies, still unfazed.
“Thanks.” Mike sits next to Chris, though he leans so that he’s not in the zone where Chris’ alcohol smell might actually make him tipsier with its intensity. “I mean, not just for that. Seriously, I can’t find my goddamn way around the place. Have you been here before? I mean - you have to have been, right? This house is a goddamn labyrinth.” Mike is vaguely aware he’s rambling, but he’s started on a topic that gets him heated, and therefore cannot stop. “They have a fucking helipad. A helipad! Who needs a goddamn helipad? It’s ridiculous - I almost wanna befriend these kids to get them to pay my college tuition.” Mike huffs, leans back. “I mean, Christ. A helipad. ”
Josh looks at him with a half-amused half-confused smile for a few seconds, not saying anything, before Chris giggles out “Are ya gonna pay his college tuition, Josh?”
Oh, fuck.
“Oh. Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” Mike feels the heat rising to his cheeks. He wonders where those two drinks took his smoothness, and if he’ll be able to reclaim it back anytime soon. “Fuck. You’re - you’re the producer’s kid.”
“One of three, yes,” Josh agrees, smile widening. “You don’t like the house?”
“No! No, the house is lovely. It’s - I mean, it’s really impressive.”
“So you don’t like the helipad,” Josh concludes.
“Well, that’s not - I haven’t - I’ve never seen it, or used it, so I can’t really know if I -”
“Mike,” Josh drawls again, looking like he’s suppressing laughter. “Relax.”
“God, I’m trying .” Mike lets out a long breath, pinches the bridge of his nose. “I swear I’m cooler than this, most of the time.”
“Tipsy?”
“Yeah. Fuck.”
“I’m cool, too!” Chris chimes in, leaning over the arm of the chair in order to get closer to Mike. “Josh can vouch for me. I’m like -” (a pause to think, clearly laborious for Chris at this moment) “- pretty okay, I think.”
“You’re more than pretty okay, Chris.” Josh takes the seat next to Mike, also leaning on the arm of his chair in order to be closer to Chris, who is clearly his best bro.
“Bro,” Chris replies, clutching one hand to his chest and looking genuinely touched, reaching the other hand out over Mike to grab at Josh. “C’mere. I - I love you.”
“Is this your hand for marriage?” Josh asks, also reaching over him to take Chris’ hand, so Mike is trapped between them. Mike wants to move away to, he doesn’t know, die in a hole, or maybe just drink harder, but their bromance has him trapped. “My dude. I was gonna give you mine first.”
“I should go,” Mike says, out of approximately nowhere, compounding once more his newfound reputation for inappropriate and poorly-timed remarks. “I’m - sorry to interrupt your...moment.”
“No issue,” Josh says, drawing his hand back. Chris reluctantly follows, and Mike takes the opportunity to escape, scrambling to his feet a bit faster than necessary and pausing awkwardly once he’s up.
“Thank you,” he repeats, unable to look either of them in the face. “For helping.”
“No problemo. Again.” Josh does the OK sign with his hand, and Chris mimics it. “Have a great night, Munroe.”
“You too, Josh.” Mike says it with enough bravado that he thinks he might be finally getting some mojo back, but he doesn’t stick around to find out, heading out of the movie room and to the huge-ass doors out as quickly as possible.
What the fuck was that?
***
School is a blessing and a curse to Mike. It’s a way to get out of his house and away from his many siblings, as well as his overbearing parents, but it’s also high school. That’s not to say he isn’t good at it - Mike is the best at everything he does, that’s one thing you can count on. And he isn’t being cocky, either, outside of a literal sense; he always works his hardest to be harder, faster, stronger, better at referencing songs. He’s ready for anything, always, highly adaptable, just call him the fucking Terminator. He thinks. He’s never seen that movie, but he’s the best at faking he has, too.
That’s why it’s such a curveball when he can’t work out what to do when his assigned seat is adjacent to Drunk Chris From The Party.
It’s a weird feeling to be confronted with someone who has seen him at a weak point, where he needed help, and then fumbled over himself to thank his saviors. It’s a weird feeling to know Chris, should he remember Mike, won’t have the first impression Mike always strives to give of handsome and calm and cool and with the funniest jokes and shit. He’ll remember tipsy Mike, distressed Mike, ever so slightly awkward Mike.
Mike is disgusted .
But he can’t put off sitting anymore. He’s been staring at the nametag for 1st period for a solid minute now, brow furrowed, baffled by alphabetical order. Chris sits just in front of him, though Mike can’t make out his last name, and although he hasn’t looked around at Mike yet, Mike feels as though he Knows and is Judging. So he sits down, puts his bag next to him, and waits for Chris to notice him.
He’s picturing hellfire and suffering. Chris bringing up every microexpression that revealed insecurity. Every tic and stutter and sigh and awkward avoidance of eye contact. Every single social mistake Mike made that night, weighing on him harder than the globe on Atlas. He feels sick. He feels sweaty. He’s going to throw up. The teacher starts talking and it’s coming to him through water, he’s drowning, he’s fucked up, god he might actually die over this ridiculous shit -
Chris snaps him out of his panic by waving a short stack of paper in his face over his shoulder, not even turning around. Mike takes the papers, peels one off the top, and passes the stack behind him. And then, because he is slave to his impulses, he taps Chris’ shoulder.
His heart is jackrabbiting when Chris turns around in his seat, looking confused. He’s lightheaded, fuck, how is this having such an effect on him?
“Do you - I mean, hey,” says Mike, and oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck come on, Mike, turn on the charm. He clears his throat, tries again, smiles soft and sweet. “Hey, Chris. What’s up?”
Chris blinks once, twice, then scans around the room, as if looking for someone else who can answer the question. He says ‘uhhh’ as he does so, before his eyes finally settle back on Mike; he’s given up on phoning a friend. He cocks his head, opens his mouth to speak - Mike is hanging on his unspoken words, his head is still spinning, he really thinks he might barf all over everything if Chris doesn’t talk soon -
“I’m sorry,” Chris says, smiling sheepishly. “Have we met before?”
He didn’t remember?
He forgot Mike ?
After everything he just put Mike through?
That little shit.
“Yeah,” Mike says, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice and failing utterly. “I was at Josh’s party?”
“Uhhhhhh,” Chris repeats, cheeks flushing. “I’m sorry. I’m so bad with names. Also, uh. I was. Kind of. Totally shitfaced.”
“I know,” Mike says, now openly bitter, but he’s beyond caring. “Don’t worry about it. We barely talked, anyway.”
“I’m sorry!” Chris cringes. His cheeks are bright pink now, and he’s avoiding eye contact. “Jeez, I feel awful. I really didn’t mean to upset you. Are you okay?”
“I’m not upset,” Mike snaps, thoroughly aware of how hard he’s pouting and unwilling to stop it.
“Uhm. Well.” Chris looks down at the paper on Mike's desk and his eyes widen - of course he couldn’t have noticed it earlier and spared Mike his chagrin - as he begins to smile just a little. “Mike Munroe, huh? Jess and Josh were talking about you this morning. You’re the guy Josh helped out.”
“That’s me,” Mike confirms, not even validated by the fact that Josh was apparently talking about him. Well, he was happy Josh remembered him, but at the same time, he was annoyed Chris didn’t. And he was worried about the things Jess would say about him. Though she was coming secondary to these people he was starting to suspect weren’t quite as heavenly as his Drunk Goggles had painted them.
“Oh, God. I should’ve asked for a description or something. Wish I’d known you’d be here!” He laughs, and Mike is taken aback by how genuine it is, even over something so small and...frankly not funny. “I’m so sorry. Can we start over? You seem really cool. I want to get to know you.”
Mike is stuck between saying no, you asshole, you forgot me , and I’m pretty damn important, so how am I supposed to trust you to remember the things that matter? and sure, I’m Mike Munroe, nice to meet you ., so what comes out is a rushed “I’m Mike Munroe. How the hell did you forget me?”
Chris is opening his mouth to reply to that horrifically inappropriate comment when the teacher says “Boys, is there something you two want to share with the class?”
“No, sir,” Mike says, ducking his head down. He hears Chris echo “no, sir” as he turns around. Mike chances a look back at Chris’- well, back. Mike examines the soft blues of his hoodie and the messy way his hair sticks up at the front, styled but clearly not truly contained. He’s hunched over his desk, normal inattentive kid posture, but he seems to be doing his work. Unless he’s drawing dicks or something. Mike takes in his mannerisms for a few seconds, marvelling at how this kid has led his mood on such a rollercoaster ride just this morning, before scribbling a note on an extra piece of paper and tossing it onto Chris’ desk.
All it says is I’m sorry, that was a dick move, but when Chris opens it up he suppresses another little laugh and peers over his shoulder to give Mike a thumbs up. Mike is amazed at how easy it was to do that. He wonders if Chris is actually drunk in class or something. It’s only at the end of class that Chris talks to him again.
“You just moved here, right?” Chris asks, playing with the note Mike tossed him by weaving it through his fingers. Mike pulls his eyes away from the motion and to Chris’ face before he nods.
“I did.”
“That’s why you’re so grumpy, then?”
“I am not-”
“Relax. I’m kidding.” Chris smiles. “I get it. Don’t worry. It must’ve sucked when I didn’t remember you.”
“Kind of.” Mike admits reluctantly as he slings his backpack over his shoulders. “I wasn’t heartbroken or anything.”
“You never know. I am what they call a ladykiller in common vernacular.” Chris winks, and Mike laughs while feeling a strange warmth fill his chest.
“Well, we’d be better be getting to class,” Mike says, trying to shake this new sensation by avoiding the source. “Thanks for being so cool about all this. I would’ve told myself to fuck off.”
“Wow. You’re harsh.” Chris snorts. He turns on his heels with a little wave. “But you’re right. See you later!”
Mike watches him leave before going himself. The warmth in his chest won’t die down.
***
He didn’t plan on sneaking outside during lunch to smoke that morning, but the stress of being called on repeatedly in math class (his fault for letting the teacher realise he was the only person in the class who remembered how to factor, somehow) and the conversation with Chris - along with the possibility of seeing Josh again, maybe even together with Chris - had driven him to. He especially didn’t want to see Josh, since he knew Josh remembered him, and on top of that, had been talking about him, and on top of that , had probably spoken to Chris and learned about how painfully inept Mike had been in first period. He pushed open the door out from the art hall that led to the back of the school, fishing around his pockets for his cigarettes.
He noticed the other figure immediately, and despite them being the completely wrong size and in the completely wrong fashion, Mike almost thinks it’s Emily for a second. She’d said she’d quit, but you never knew with a girl like her.
Instead, as he got closer, he realised it was Washington, because God had no mercy on men like Mike. He’s glaring at his lighter intensely, one hand deep in his vest pocket, fishing for his own cigarettes. Mike clears his throat and Josh’s head snaps up, eyes wide (and wow, Mike hadn’t noticed that weekend how many eyebags Josh had, did he sleep at all?) before realising it’s Mike and relaxing into an easy smirk.
“Hey, Munroe,” he drawls, leaning against the wall and flicking his lighter on, then off, then on. Mike gives a little wave and walks closer, imitating Josh’s pose against the wall. He pulls a cigarette from the carton he’d finally found in the black holes of his pockets and holds it out as a peace offering to Josh.
“Looking for one of these?”
“Aw, fuck, dude, you are a lifesaver.” Josh takes the cigarette with two fingers, twirls it, then puts it in his mouth. It’s so needlessly dramatic that Mike can’t help but snort. Personally, he prefers to just get straight to the point, placing the cigarette between his lips and digging his hands back around in his pockets for wherever the fuck his lighter went.
“So you don’t feel like eating either?” Josh blows a smoke ring, turning his head to face Mike. Every move he makes seems lazy, relaxed, but also calculated. Mike is a little bit impressed by how he manages to be intimidating but totally lethargic at the same time.
“No. I’ll whip something up when I get home, I usually do anyway.” Mike curses under his breath as he checks his jacket pocket for at least the 30th time, still coming up empty for a lighter or matches or fucking anything , come on.
“Having trouble?”
“I swear I put it here when I was getting ready this morning.”
“You know, I don’t even think you need it. You’re already smokin’.”
“No, I need i- wait, what?”
Josh winks. Mike glares.
“Can you just let me borrow your lighter, please?” Mike says, trying not to let that frankly insultingly basic pick up line get to him. Also, it was Josh. Josh, the guy. The guy, Josh. The dude. The man. The definitely not a girl so what the fuck , Munroe.
“I got a better idea.” Josh says, and before Mike can object, he leans in to light Mike’s cigarette with his own. Their faces are close, close enough that Mike can see every detail in Josh’s face, from the way the late summer sun makes him look paler than he really is and the hint of green in his eyes and the acne scars (curses of being a teenager). Despite himself, Mike thinks he’s handsome, in a less traditional way than Mike, but Josh’s good looks are definitely just as prominent. From a purely objective standpoint.
And just as quickly as Josh leaned in, he’s moved back to his original position, blowing smoke meditatively. Mike takes a drag, hoping it will calm his nerves. Instead he keeps thinking about Josh’s face near his, and he forces himself to focus on something else, like his homework, or the hot girl in his English class who he needs to get the number of at some point. Josh doesn’t interrupt his silence, instead opting to blow more smoke rings and check his phone. Mike has to force himself not to pay attention. He wants to die every time Josh moves and attracts his eyes once more.
This is ridiculous.
He barely knows Josh, barely knows anything about him. He knows Josh is nice and Josh is flirty and Josh is rich. He doesn’t know nearly enough to care about what Josh thinks, but he does. The obvious solution is to thank Josh for all the help he’s given thus far and then leave. But Mike doesn’t. Instead, Mike says “So, Washington. Do you usually come out here?”
God, why can’t he just do the obvious solution for once?
Josh nods and drops his cigarette, crushing it out under his way too expensive looking sneaker. “Sure. Not usually hungry at school.”
“I didn’t peg you for a smoker.”
“Same to you. Someone as fit looking as yourself isn’t someone I usually think would partake in our good friend nicotine.” Josh leans down to open up his bag, pulling out a little bottle of perfume. Mike raises his eyebrows, and Josh raises his right back before spraying it on his wrists and neck. As he rubs his wrists together, he adds “But I guess the real reason I’m surprised is because at the party you kind of didn’t seem the type. Besides looks, obviously. Once I talked to Jess about you I kind of learned that wasn’t really a great representation of you, was it?”
“No. Not at all.” Mike scoffs and puts out his own cigarette. “I was tipsy. And I’m kind of new in town? Today’s my first day here.”
Josh nods sagely. “I get you. Pre-school nerves, combined with the devil’s drink. Happens to the best of us.”
“Not to me.” Mike pauses to reconsider. “At least, not usually.”
Josh raises his eyebrows. “You’re confident, huh?”
“I’ve moved a lot. This is the first time I’ve ever had trouble like this.” Mike shrugs. “I’m over it.”
Josh hums and nods thoughtfully. “You seem cool to me. Jess likes you, which is an obvious sign of being at least tolerable.” He pushes himself off the wall, stretching. “I should go back inside, though. Promised Chris I’d meet up with him.” He drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “He is so needy.”
Mike rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. And, y’know. Thanks for lighting my cigarette.”
“Anytime. And, hey, if you ever wanna hang out, just let me know.” Josh gives him a little salute and winks. Mike swallows hard, waves back.
This is ridiculous.
***
Josh winking twice and dropping all those lines didn’t mean shit. Just like how he’d gotten all warm and fuzzy over Chris being nice didn’t mean shit. None of it meant shit. Mike was just in his weird new-town funk and he needed to get over his damn self. He had friends. He had girls who liked him already. He was the cool, mysterious new kid, and he hadn’t been playing it to his advantage nearly enough, instead fumbling around with two doofuses who had bad pickup lines and got smashed way too easily.
God, why was he even thinking about this? They had no effect on his life, they weren’t even his friends, not really. He was supposed to be going to sleep, but the combination of regular suburban night noises and the day at school meant he was sitting here, tossing and turning over these two strangers .
Fuck it. He’s going to befriend them and get over this anxiety that has to be from meeting two cool seeming guys in a new town where he doesn’t know anybody. It’s not like he hasn’t felt it before.
He grabs his phone off the charger and unlocks it, sending Jess a quick message, which hopefully conveys how important this is to his emotional wellbeing.
From: Me ;)
Hey.
Perfect.
From: Jess!!
if ur here 2 sext me im not in the mood mike >_>
From: Me ;)
Why would you even assume that?
From: Jess!!
dude have u talked to urself lately lmao
From: Me ;)
That isn’t why I’m here. Also? Rude.
From: Jess!!
ok what do u want then bro? :0
From: Me ;)
I was just wondering if
From: Me ;)
Maybe you knew what Chris and Josh thought about me.
From: Jess!!
GASP
From: Jess!!
u?? caring about what ppl who arent girls think about u OPENLY????
From: Jess!!
slap my ass and call me hozier bc i’m going to church this sunday i believe in miracles now
From: Me ;)
Shut up, okay? I just want to know. It’s a simple question.
From: Jess!!
ur in luck mikey m’boy because i have in fact heard things from both joshington AND chris
From: Jess!!
do u wanna know ;)
From: Me ;)
Please just tell me, I’m not in the mood.
From: Jess!!
alright u dick >:(
From: Jess!!
josh thinks ur cool and kind of awkward but he likes it and chris thinks youre like, the best thing since sliced bread or josh, fsr
From: Jess!!
ur five minute conversation with him has him convinced that youre going to be his saving grace in that class bc its super boring or w/e
From: Me ;)
That’s not at all what I expected.
From: Jess!!
aw were u worried ;3c ;3c ;3c
From: Me ;)
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
From: Me ;)
You put that paw away.
From: Jess!!
awww but mike...the paw is Essential
From: Me ;)
W/e. Thanks anyway.
From: Jess!!
i cant believe my son is having feelings...bless u mikey boy godspeed u go make those friends
From: Me ;)
Kindly go fuck yourself. Goodnight.
He shuts off his phone before she can reply, rolling over in bed to try one more time to sleep. His mind is still buzzing, but it’s died down ever so slightly, and he’s finally able to fall into a deep sleep.
***
“Hey, Mike. Can I borrow your notes?”
Mike nearly drops all the shit he’s holding, he’s so surprised by Chris’ voice. He’s trying to put stuff away in his locker peacefully for the end of the school day, and this joker has to come and interrupt him with that polite inquisition. Mike turns around to give him a piece of his mind, but when he sees Chris’ face, along with the fact that Josh is there too, looking chill as ever, he can’t manage it anymore. Instead, he clears his throat and says “Sure. But give ‘em back to me by tomorrow.”
“I’d never give you a time limit on my notes, bro.” Josh says, smirking at Chris. Chris laughs and rolls his eyes, that sweet, genuine laugh again, and Mike feels his stomach flip.
It’s still ridiculous.
“Well, some of us value our grades, bro.” Chris smirks back and then turns to Mike. “I’ll give them to you in class tomorrow, if that’s okay? I just got really behind. Distracted.”
“What by?” Mike asks.
“We were texting under our desks. Highly illegal, highly rewarding.” Josh’s smirk gets wider, and Mike can’t help but smirk back. How are these two so infectious? “Hey, by the way. Jess gave us your number, but we wanted to ask before we actually texted you. Only seems polite.”
“She did? Oh my god. I’m going to strangle her.” Mike hands Chris his notes, trying to contain his embarrassment. “I swear to God, that girl thinks she can run my life.”
“She’s just trying to help,” Chris replies, shrugging apologetically. “Oh, by the way! We were also wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out with us later…? We’re going to a restaurant for burgers. Bro’s night out.”
“We were gonna invite Matt, but they’re not over the time we rigged their locker with confetti.” Josh drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, leaning in and winking. Mike snorts.
“Sure, I guess. I have nothing else on tonight.” That’s a lie. He has homework for days, and chores, and his siblings to take care of. But for once he wants to do something for himself.
“Great! I’ll text you the address. 5pm sharp.” Chris says, pulling out his phone to do just that.
“If you’re late, we’ll tell Emily.” Josh adds, doing a poor impression of sternness.
“Sure.” Mike rolls his eyes to convey exactly how little this scares him. Except it does scare him, because Emily is terrifying. But Josh and Chris don’t need to know that. “I’ll be there on time, don’t worry.”
“Better be,” Josh re-emphasises before making a ‘watching you’ motion with his hands and walking away with Chris. They seem so natural together, and Mike is reminded of the night of the party. His stomach won’t stop dancing around in his chest, where it absolutely should not be, and he wonders if he can cancel already, say he has a date with a girl or something, just to reaffirm to them how Cool and Desirable and Not Gay he is.
Because he isn’t. He so isn’t.
He curses, slams his locker shut.
So. Ridiculous.
***
It’s 4:55 when he arrives at the restaurant, and he already wants to leave.
The place Chris and Josh sent him to is some dingy local burger joint, with blinking neon lights and dirty walls that suggest it was built long before Mike was born, and he hasn’t even walked in yet. He’s sitting in his car with the radio blasting, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach that are just his apparently never before revealed social anxiety, and waiting to see if he can spot Chris and Josh before he goes inside.
4:56.
This is downright silly.
He hasn’t seen Chris or Josh, but then again, he doesn’t know their cars. They could already be inside, bro-ing it up without him. After all, they’d been so comfortable around each other, he was just third-wheeling even when they weren’t dating. He felt so out of place around them. They complimented each other so perfectly, and who was he? Just some new kid playing at popular and charming.
He wasn’t really either of those. He wasn’t as easygoing and well-known as Josh and he wasn’t as genuine and friendly as Chris. He didn’t deserve to be here.
4:57.
He needs more time to think.
They’d invited him, hadn’t they? He was stressing over nothing. And Jess had said they liked him, so what was his issue?
Unless she’d been lying. What then? Why was he even thinking about this so much? He was charming, he knew it. Smart, and skilled, and well-liked. Hell, since he’d arrived in the middle of the summer, he’d dated at least 5 girls. He was perfectly worthy of these two losers.
4:58. Fuck.
He wants to go inside, but he doesn’t know the plan. Do Chris and Josh have a reservation? What name would he even say? He should text them. But the thought is unappealing. It reveals weakness. Mike should always know exactly what to do, what to say. The fact that he doesn’t is killing him.
4:59. Now or never.
He waits a few more seconds before he finally gets over his damn self and gets out of the car, walking confidently to the restaurant doors. He can do this. It’s easy, just like any other meetup with friends. It’s just like seeing Jess and Emily and Matt. The only difference is he hasn’t known Chris and Josh as long. And really, he should feel more confident in that. He can say whatever he wants to them, and they’ll never know the difference.
He spots Chris and Josh the second he walks inside, because they’re right across from the entrance. Mike checks to see the hostess isn’t there at the moment before walking over to them. He doesn’t feel like dealing with customer service right now.
Chris waves as he approaches, and Josh does a little salute. Despite himself, Mike thinks about Josh lighting his cigarette. His stomach is fluttering again.
He slides into the booth next to Chris, half surprised by how Josh and Chris sit on opposite sides. He’d been under the impression they were constantly attached at the hip unless forcibly separated, but he guesses it isn’t so strange. And he’s kind of glad to sit next to the frankly far less intimidating Chris. Josh still has that easy aura that just radiates ‘cooler than you’. Which isn’t true, because Mike is pretty much cooler than anybody, but still.
“I’m not late, am I?” Mike jokes, leaning his elbows on the table.
“Of course not, bro. We’re just early.” Josh mimics his motion. “You’re in luck. The waitress only just took our drink orders, so when she gets back, you can add yours and get some sweet, greasy-ass grub.”
“When you say it like that, it sounds...disgusting.” Mike makes a face at Josh to convey just how gross he is, and Josh rolls his eyes back, leaning his head on his hand.
“Grease is disgusting, dude. But it tastes so good .” Chris sighs and leans back in his seat. “There’s nothing like heart attacks at thirty to make me feel at ease.”
“Now you’re the gross one.” Josh snickers and Mike hears a light thud under the table. Chris curses.
“Kicking me? Totally unnecessary!” But Chris is grinning, and Mike thinks he could get used to this.
“Your parakeet hair is unnecessary,” Josh says, grinning right back.
“Like you can talk. You’re wearing a beanie inside,” Mike counters, instantly regretting trying to be part of the banter when Chris and Josh give him a slightly surprised look.
“He has a point,” Chris says, finally, after what feels like hours but in reality was at most three seconds. “That's against the unspoken social contract, Josh.”
Josh waves his hand dismissively. “No social contract could ever contain me.”
“Too cool for all that?” Mike jokes, finally starting to relax. This isn't as bad as he thought it would be.
“Absolutely too cool for that,” Josh agrees. Chris laughs and elbows Mike, softly saying something to the effect of “don’t encourage him”, but Mike isn't going to let anything stop his new momentum now.
Well, besides the waitress arriving with drinks. It turns out Josh had actually ordered him a coke (“It seemed like a safe bet. Didn't want you to feel left out. And hey, if you bailed, that's more soda for us.”), which Mike is disproportionately touched by. He doesn't let that show, though, instead just saying “thanks” as casually as possible and sipping from his drink.
“Hey, now that we all have our drinks, we should play never have I ever!” Chris says, twirling his straw around in his drink. Mike gulps.
“No thanks.”
“Aww, why not, Munroe?” Josh asks. “You chicken?”
Aw, fuck no.
“Like hell I am.” He sits up straight and puffs out his chest just a little. Emily would call him out on his hypermasculine posturing, but she isn't here, and Mike can do whatever he wants.
“Cool. So you can start, then.” Josh twirls his own straw around lazily, and Mike realises he’s been played. Curse the competitive spirit.
“Alright.” Mike tries to keep his voice as chill as possible as he thinks. “Never have I ever gone snowboarding.”
Josh takes a sip, then raises his eyebrows. “That it?”
“Public place. I have shame,” Mike replies.
“Mhm. My turn, then,” Josh says. He barely pauses before adding “Never have I ever made out in a public place.”
Mike glares at him before taking a drink.
“My turn? Uhhh.” Chris scratches his chin thoughtfully before snapping his fingers. “Got it! Never have I ever had a dog.”
Josh and Mike both drink.
“You two are fucking boring. And here I had Munroe pegged for a bad boy,” Josh sighs.
“Shut up, Washington. Never have I ever…” Mike trails off, thinking hard. “Never have I ever dated a guy.”
There's a thick pause before Josh drinks.
“What!” Chris sputters, indignant. “What! You didn't tell me that!”
“Need to know basis,” Josh says. He’s drumming his fingers on the table and avoiding looking at either of them, instead opting on focusing on the roof. “Sorry, Cochise. I promise you'll be first to hear next time.” And then, far too quickly, “Never have I ever had a crush on Ashley.”
Mike doesn’t know who Ashley is, but judging by how Josh is looking at Chris, Chris does.
But he doesn’t drink.
“And what's this?” Josh asks, raising an eyebrow. “You get mad at me for a curveball and then don't drink for dear Ash?”
“Look, I just - I thought I did. But, uh. I think I was just making myself? Because everyone expected it?” Chris is blushing furiously. “Anyway, uh. It's not as surprising as yours!”
“Never have I ever gotten in an argument in a restaurant,” Mike says pointedly. Chris and Josh look at him for a few seconds before Josh takes a drink.
“Good one,” Josh sighs, seeming relieved. “Chris, your turn.”
“Never have I ever had a cigarette.” Chris fiddles with his hoodie strings, still bright red. Mike can't help but watch him while he takes a drink, not even checking to see if Josh does too.
“Never have I ever had a cat,” Mike says, tearing his eyes away from Chris. Chris and Josh drink.
“Never have I ever dated a girl,” Josh says. Mike drinks.
“Never have I ever failed a class,” Chris says. Josh drinks.
“Never have I ever...fuck, I don't know. I’ve done a lot. Of like, romantic stuff, at least.” Mike groans, leaning back in his seat.
“It doesn't have to be romantic!” Chris objects. “Half of them haven't been!”
“This game was getting boring anyway,” Josh says.
“We’d barely started,” Mike protests.
“Yeah, and Chris was going to win. Let's just talk more in depth about this stuff. Like,” Josh turns to Chris, bridging his fingers, “you not liking Ash.”
“Oh my God. I already told you, it's no big deal.” But the way his cheeks turn red again tells a different story. Mike finds himself fascinated by this drama he has absolutely no part in.
“Look, I’m just saying, you could’ve told me.”
“But I knew you'd get all weird about it!” Chris tenses up. “And like you can talk, since you didn't tell me you'd dated a guy!”
“That's different!” Josh is blushing too, now, although it's harder to tell.
“How is it different?” Chris turns to you. “It’s not, is it, Mike?”
Mike stares at Chris, amazed he’d even ask the question. He looks at Josh to see if there's any help there and gets another expectant glare in response. Mike considers every decision that has led him to this point, and decides he wants to redo at least 70% of them.
“Uh,” Mike begins. “I think both of you were justified? For your own separate reasons? And it's not the end of the world if you didn't know it about each other. So, just, uh. Relax a little. In my opinion. Hey, the waitress sure has been a while, hasn't she?”
Mike thinks he might be sweating when they don't turn away from him. In desperation, he adds, “Honestly, I figured you two liked each other when we met.”
Fuck, wait, no.
This is met with an even louder silence than before. Mike is struggling for something else to say - he wants it to be eloquent, fitting of the situation, and able to diffuse it all at once, but he knows planning it and waiting will just make things worse. So he says, “And like, uh, watching you two together is really weird, but in a good way, since you two obviously know each other so well. To let something like this throw that off is - kind of dumb, if you ask me. When I see either of you talk with each other or with me, I can tell where you get mannerisms from each other, and it's kind of...cute, I think, is the best word? Because you two are so obviously best friends. And I felt kind of weird coming here because of that. Because I’m new and haven't been able to be my coolest around you for whatever fucking reason, and it's mind blowing to me you two could even argue. It feels like - like infringing on a date, being here. And then being brought into married people drama at the restaurant. Like, Christ in a cream cheese sauce, I don't belong in this at all. I guess what I’m trying to say with this completely off topic rant is, uh, don't get mad at each other over something this little.”
The silence stretches out into what feels like centuries and Mike is more and more tempted to bolt like a fucking scared deer when Josh says “If it was a date, you would've been invited. Like, not as a third wheel.”
“What?” Chris asks, cocking his head. Mike couldn't have said it better himself.
“I mean, if I’d asked one of you out, I would've asked the other too. Because Mike is cute. And he seems cool enough.” Josh stirs his drink again, eyes focused on it even as he tries to seem cool and unbothered.
“Are you saying,” Chris begins, gripping the table, “that you like us?”
Josh shrugs. “Depends what the answer would be.”
Mike’s mind is about to implode.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, his stomach doing all the flips again and his heart trying its very best to break out of his ribcage.
Can he do this? He barely knows them. And he likes girls. But it doesn't seem to matter to his traitorous emotions, which are totally freaking out. Thoughts of kissing Josh, holding hands with Chris, amd snuggling with both of them in bed are coming to him unbidden and refusing to leave. He’s scared, suddenly, because he knows he wants this, and he can't deny it anymore. He’s falling hard and fast and it's ridiculous but he really, really wants to know them. He’s dated girls after less.
“Uh,” says Chris, seemingly going through a similar process. He fidgets with his hands nervously and bounces his leg up and down. His nervous energy is radiating from him in waves. Josh is still stirring his drink, seemingly unbothered, but his shoulders are tense. This is unpleasant for all three of them.
This was a new town. A new life. As long as Mike has been there, he still hasn't made many connections. What reputation did he have to lose? And besides, no one has to know.
Mike takes in a deep breath through his nose, lets it out through his mouth. He can feel something inside of him changing, but he doesn’t know what. He wants to explain this all to Josh and Chris, but he knows he can't. Instead, he says “Never have I ever had a crush on two guys.”
Then he drinks.
Josh looks at him with wide eyes for a moment, before catching on and taking an enthusiastic swig himself. Mike avoids looking at Chris for as long as possible, because he’s seriously this close to leaving, bold confessions aside. When he finally does look, Chris says “uhm” and hesitates before bringing the straw to his lips.
Mike doesn’t know what to say, so Josh is the first to speak, saying “Well, we’re already here, late service aside. What do you guys say we make this our first date?”
“Sounds good to me,” Chris says, voice strained. He’s still jiggling his leg and flushed, but he’s not white knuckling the table anymore.
“I’ll drink to that,” Mike says, raising his glass in a corny imitation of a toast. Josh clinks his glass to Mike’s, and Chris quickly follows.
It’s an absurdly small gesture, but Mike feels like it's finally the start of something he won't regret.