Archive of Our Own

Mike is still coming to terms with the fact that everyone he's met in Paradise City—and others—all managed to escape that zombie infested city alive with all of their limbs intact. Part of it is thanks to the cure that doctor had been developing.

He can't believe the cure actually worked.

But it did. It worked, and it even saved people they'd all believed at one point to have been too far gone in their infected state. Now, Mike and his friends are riding on the Harpy Express as it carries them far away from Paradise City.

Honestly, none of this feels real.

It's like he's living in a dream. After everything that's happened to him since crashing in Paradise City, they all just get to…what, leave? Mike can't help but feel like there's some catch. He's thought of bringing up his concerns with his group more times than he can count, but to be honest? He's scared to look this gift horse in the mouth. Not when it means he gets to be with all of his friends again.

"Mike?"

Mike jolts in his seat.

Oh, right.

He'd been watching Rotation and Grayleigh chat about something while Meagon piped in from time to time. But now all three of them are looking at him, concern seeping into their gazes.

He hates how used he's become to those expressions.

"Sorry…" Mike rubs the back of his neck. "I, uh… I zoned out."

"We noticed," Meagon says, her tone flat. She turns her body to face him and raises a hand to his forehead. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine Meagon," he says, but Mike lets her check his temperature anyways. Ever since the others found him again, he's grown used to the increase in touches.

They've never addressed it, but they didn't have to. Mike's not that big of an idiot.

Though as he looks over at Rotation and Grayleigh, he starts to doubt himself.

Grayleigh… Back when he thought he'd die—for real this time— Mike had preemptively written his final thoughts into a random notebook he'd found when scavenging with the group. He'd done so hoping it would bring Rotation some comfort. But he'd be lying to himself if Gray wasn't also part of the reason.

Even when the world gave him multiple chances to confess, he'd felt guilty at the thought of leaving this world before telling Gray how he felt about her.

Luckily for him, he lived. Again.

Which is why he burned that book the moment they'd all reached the train station.

He doesn't have to rely on some book containing his final thoughts in order to confess to her anymore.

And as he listens to Gray laugh at something Meagon says, Mike thinks that he'll get to it soon.

Definitely.

Probably.

…Maybe.

Mike gets to his feet, startling the other three. "Actually guys," he starts to say. He points behind him, "I think I'm going to get some fresh air."

His friends share a look.

"Do you want someone to come with you?" Rotation asks, but Mike waves it off.

"It won't take long," he says, leaning over to ruffle the blonde's hair. He grins when he's rewarded with a pout, "I'll be back soon, promise."

With that, he exits the lounge car.

Mike proceeds to make his way down the halls of the train. He passes through a few other utility cars, bumping into some other Paradise City survivors along the way. He doesn't stop for anything longer than a brief 'Hey there,' before continuing along. Eventually, Mike reaches one of the few locations on the Harpy Express with fresh air flowing through it. Somewhere that didn't require balancing on the side of the train to get it.

He quickly steps into one of the many semi-enclosed spaces dividing the train cars. He leans against the wall by the door just as it shuts, and takes a deep breath.

For the first time in a long while, he thinks about home.

Mike left for Paradise City with the intention of helping his dad. But now…he doesn't even know if he should go back. Not with what he knows. Not with what he learned.

He sighs, dragging a hand through his hair. What am I going to do now…

The door beside him opens with a hiss, bringing him out of his thoughts. Mike looks over just as a man walks through, wearing a red bandana around his neck. Or at least, he thinks it's red. It's hard to tell with all the dirt on it.

…Not that his own jersey looks any better.

While Mike's time in Paradise City was very turbulent, he's encountered a lot of different people. Some he got to know more than others, but some he only knew of in passing.

Thomas, the one currently interrupting his solace, falls somewhere in between those two categories.

They make eye contact.

"Thomas right?" Mike asks, "From the hostel group?"

Thomas squints at him for a moment before his eyes light up in recognition. "Mike?"

Mike raises an eyebrow. "Did you actually forget my name?" he teases, unable to help himself.

Thomas rolls his eyes. "Actually, I didn't," he states, "I'll have you know that I've kept a notebook throughout the entirety of my time in Paradise City with the names of everyone I've met."

Mike grins. "So… I was important enough to remember?"

Thomas huffs in what Mike can only assume is annoyance, but he doesn't take it to heart. After all, he can just barely see a glimmer of a smile peeking through the other's twitching frown.

"You know, I came out here hoping that the air would help clear my headache," Thomas says, leaning his shoulder against the wall on the other side of the door, "Not aggravate it."

"Well, if you're looking for fresh air, I don't think the space in-between the cars will help you there," he points out. "Seeing as we're, you know, still kind of in an enclosed space and all."

Thomas tilts his head, looking like an inquisitive puppy. "So then why are you out here?"

"…For some fresh air."

Thomas starts to laugh, but abruptly stops as a wince overtakes his expression. Mike feels a flicker of concern as Thomas massages his temple.

"Urgh," Thomas groans, resting the side of his head against the cool metal surface behind him, "Don't make me laugh man."

Mike chokes on his own laughter. "I wasn't even trying to," he argues. "Don't blame your pain on me, you did that on your own."

Thomas shakes his head, but the motion seems to cause him another wave of pain judging by his expression. Actually, the more Mike looks, it kind of looks like he's swaying on his feet.

That's… concerning.

"Okay," Thomas grumbles, pushing off of the wall, "Clearly fresh air isn't helping."

"Like I said, you could always try the observation car," Mike suggests. "I'm pretty sure they've got a balcony."

Thomas closes his eyes, holding his forehead. "I honestly might just go to my room instead," he says.

"I mean…" Mike trails off as Thomas takes a step forward, only for him to start swayi— nope, he's falling.

Before he even processes what he's doing, Mike surges forward, catching Thomas before the other hits the ground. He feels his heart race as he carefully helps Thomas to his feet, steadying him with one hand resting between his shoulder blades. His other arm hovers in front of Thomas in case he tips over again.

"Dude, you good?"

Thomas's head drops down onto his shoulder, and Mike feels a weird flutter in his stomach at the weight. He shrugs it off.

"On second thought," Thomas mumbles, "I don't think I'm going to make it to my room before I pass out."

That really doesn't sound good.

Knowing that the door they'd both came from only led to more utility cars, Mike makes the split second decision to guide Thomas towards the one opposite to them. While keeping an eye on Thomas to make sure he was still steady, Mike grabs the door handle and twists it open.

He looks down at Thomas, who's eyes flutter open. When he confirms that he's got the other's attention, Mike offers him what he hopes is a reassuring smile, "Let's go find you a new room then."

Thomas blinks up at him, before he let's out an amused huff, wincing only a little bit this time at the action, "Lead the way RoGhost."

Carefully, Mike helps Thomas through the door. As Mike closes it behind them, he realizes that they're in one of the sleeper cars of the train.

Perfect.

With caution guiding his steps, Mike makes his way down the hall, doing his best to guide Thomas as he tests each door as he goes. At some point, he repositions them so that Mike is gently holding onto Thomas's hand to make it easier to lead him forward.

Mike goes down the line, getting more and more frustrated with each locked door he's met with. Which is like, fair. But right now, each locked door means Thomas is closer and closer to passing out, and Mike doesn't know how to handle that.

Finally, he hears a click coming from one of the handles. "Oh sweet, this one's unlocked—" Mike calls out, sliding the door open, only to freeze when he takes in the walls of the room in question. Despite the warm dim lighting cast around the room, Mike can still see with startling clarity that plastered all over the room are giant flags, each representing different LGBTQ sexualities and identities. One of which was a trans flag hanging over the large bed at the back of the room.

Now, there's nothing wrong with the room itself, nor did Mike have any problem with the decor. But the sight he was greeted with is so different from his own room on the train that, well, forgive him for being caught off guard.

He flinches as Thomas bumps into his back. "Why did you stop?" He hears Thomas ask. "Is there someone using the room?"

Mike swallows. "No, uh, no one's in here," he manages to say. "It's just, uh—"

He stumbles into the room as Thomas somehow finds the strength to push him from behind. Thomas barely acknowledges the decor besides a brief "Oh it's this room," before stumbling his way over to the bed in the back, flopping down onto the covers face first.

Mike stands by the door, shifting on his feet. Now that he's helped he…doesn't really know what he should do now. He should probably leave, right? Leaving makes sense. Since, you know, he helped Thomas find a place to crash. But for some reason, he doesn't. Leave, that is. Nor—as he's suddenly finding out—does he want to.

Instead, Mike moves over to the door and closes it. It clicks shut, instantly muffling the chugging of the moving train he'd previously heard back in the hall. Now, all he can hear is the sound of his own breathing as well as that of Thomas's. Cool.

A shuffling sound reaches his ears. Mike turns his attention back over to the bed, just in time to see Thomas roll over onto his back, arms splayed out on either side of his body.

Thomas tilts his head on the pillow, as if to get a good look at Mike. "I didn't take you for the awkward type," he says, his voice somehow carrying across the room despite the side walls that kept the bed somewhat enclosed. Thomas taps the foot of the bed with his heel. "I don't bite."

Mike blinks. Well alright then. He maneuvers his body in between the sofas pressed up against the walls and plops himself down on the bed.

Thomas hums, seemingly satisfied. He places his head back on the pillow before closing his eyes, leaving Mike to fidget with the comforter as they sit in silence.

The question from before comes back to his mind.

Why is he staying?

Mike lifts a leg up onto the bed and rests his cheek against his knee. He promised his friends that he'd be back. And yet, despite how he's literally not doing anything besides watching Thomas rest—which is, admittedly, pretty creepy—he can't bring himself to leave.

He looks down at his shoes. Despite his best efforts during the trip, there's still some dirt trapped in the mid-soles of his runners.

His thoughts drift back to his father and his giant house that felt more empty than lived in. If Mike was at home, he'd have been yelled at for going on clean furniture with such dirty clothing. His father would've definitely bitten Mike's head off if he saw him placing his mud-coated shoes on a bed, even if it wasn't even one of their own.

Sucks to suck though, because there's literally nothing he nor anyone else on this train can do about it. Sure, there were showers that they could use, and Mike definitely took advantage of that the moment he could, but none of the survivors had any extra clothes with them. So, they all had to make due with putting on their dirty clothes again after washing.

Mike moves his gaze over to the head of the bed. The orange lighting coming from the main overhead fixture doesn't really reach the semi-enclosed bed space, but still. It provides enough lighting for Mike to take in the other man.

Appearance wise, Thomas is no different from him and the other survivors. Despite the darker colours of his shirt, Mike can still make out from the cuts and frayed edges on his sleeves that his clothes were just as dirty.

"Stop that."

Mike flinches as Thomas's voice suddenly breaks through the silence. His eyes snap up to his face. "Huh?"

Thomas moves his arm away from his eyes and looks at him. "I can feel you staring at me."

Mike doesn't understand why his face suddenly feels warm. "I don't know what you're talking about dude," he denies, pushing Thomas with his leg. He turns his head to face the rest of the room, and away from Thomas's pretty face.

…Pretty?

Thomas hums. When Mike glances back at him, he finds the other's gaze still focused on him. "…Now you're staring," he mumbles.

"Can't help it," Thomas says, sluggishly pushing himself up into a sitting position, leaning back on his hands. "You've got a nice face."

He doesn't know why the comment makes him laugh. "Dude what?" Mike chokes out. His eyes flicker over Thomas's face and finds that the other's gaze is still locked on his. The overhead light reflects off of his brown eyes, bringing out the specks of amber in the colour, giving Thomas's eyes an almost molten look.

The thought catches him so off guard that whatever Mike planned on saying next falters on the tip of his tongue before he can even open his mouth.

He feels weird. His pulse is racing, his palms are sweating. His body feels like a live-wire, his nerves prickling beneath his skin in a way that feels different from when he was forced to run from zombies, and yet identical at the same time.

Mike suddenly realizes that he's nervous. His lips feel like they want to start yapping away at the first thoughts that fly through his head, yet for some reason his words are stuck in his throat. Like his heart is stuck in his throat, preventing an embarrassing rambling moment in the face of eyes Mike is now comparing to a really pretty night sky in the back of his mind.

He wants to get up.

"—ke?"

He wants to move closer.

"H—lo?"

He wants to run.

"Y—re sc—ing me."

He wants to move his hand. He—

He feels something warm against the back of his hand.

"Mike?"

Mike snaps out of it.

Chest heaving, heart still in his throat, Mike's surroundings slowly come back to him. He looks around.

He's still in the flag room.

Mike looks down at his hand and finds a tanned hand cupping it. His eyes trail up the arm attached to it, eventually landing on Thomas.

Grey meets brown, and Thomas immediately sighs in relief.

"There you are," he whispers, gently squeezing Mike's hand. His eyes flicker between his own, hesitant. "Are you okay? You weren't responding there for a moment."

"No, yeah, I just…" It's at this point that Mike registers the fact that the distance between them has decreased since he'd last paid attention. His heart starts racing again and he wills it to calm down. Mike hangs his head, "…I'm sorry."

He hears rustling from the bed sheets before feeling his weight dip more towards the center of the bed where Thomas is sitting.

"Hey."

Mike lifts his head.

Thomas is looking at him. As Mike looks back at him, he notices the way the space between his brows are furrowed and his lips are tilted downwards in a frown.

"You don't have to apologize," he states. "I should be the one saying sorry."

Mike's cheeks puff out before letting out a breath. "But you didn't even do anything wrong," he argues. "I was the one who just…I don't know, reacted, I guess."

Thomas's frown deepens. There's this look on his face that makes Mike think he's deep in thought as his eyes seemingly search for something. "…Was it because I said you have a nice face?" he proposes.

"I, uh." Mike's face feels like it's burning. "Maybe?"

Thomas hums. There's something in his eyes that Mike can't decode. He bites his lip, and Mike's eyes zero in on the action for some reason. Embarrassingly, Thomas notices.

"Mike," Thomas asks, "Can I try something?"

Mike blinks. "Uh..."

"It's okay if you don't want me to," Thomas reassures him. "I won't be offended."

"I don't even know what you're suggesting," Mike points out.

Now it's his turn to blink. "Oh…" Thomas laughs, but there's something about it that sounds…nervous? "My bad."

Thomas shifts closer on the bed, sitting close enough for their knees to touch. He squeezes Mike's hand, which is when he realizes he'd never pulled his hand away.

"Mike," Thomas starts again. "Can…Can I kiss you?"

…What?

"What?" he hears himself ask.

He feels Thomas start to fidget with his fingers, and when Mike focuses on the other's face, he thinks he sees the other blushing. He watches, feeling somewhat detached from his body, as Thomas closes his eyes to take a deep breath, before making eye contact with him again.

"Can I kiss you?" Thomas repeats. This time, he sounds less nervous than he did the first time. The same couldn't be said for Mike right now.

"Me?" he can't help but ask. He even points to himself to make sure. "Why?"

Thomas giggles, his face growing a little redder in a way that Mike can't help but think is adorable.

"Because you're cute?" Thomas says, his shoulders coming up to his ears as if to hide from what he'd just admitted. "But also because I'm curious about something."

Mike doesn't think his pale face has been anything other than red since this entire conversation started. "Do I get to know what that is?"

"Maybe," Thomas relents. "Depends on whether you're actually good with trying it though."

Oh. Right. Mike is also part of this equation.

He doesn't know if it's because he's actually okay with trying, or if his brain is fried from everything he's gone through in the last few minutes, but he hears himself say "Okay," into the space between them.

He expects Thomas to move forward after that, but he doesn't. Thomas keeps staring at him.

"Are you sure?" he asks, and oh.

He sees what he's doing. And for once during this entire conversation, Mike actually knows why his heart is fluttering.

Mike nods. "Yeah," he whispers, swallowing his nerves. "I'm…I'm okay with it."

Thomas's eyes dart between his. He nods to himself. "Okay," he whispers back before slowly leaning his body forward in Mike's direction.

Mike's breath catches in his throat, but he doesn't move. Instead, he shuts his eyes on reflex. He sits there, waiting, only feeling a warm breath over his lips.

He hears a soft chuckle and flinches when he feels fingertips graze against his cheek. At his reaction, they pause, twitching as though to pull back.

"Sorry," he hears Thomas say. He sounds embarrassed. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Mike shakes his head. "You didn't," he reassures him. Keeping his eyes closed, he hesitantly leans forward until he's able to press his forehead against Thomas. "I…don't think you could."

He feels Thomas's breath brush against his lips as the other lets out a faint chuckle. "You barely know me Mike," he whispers.

And it's true, Mike doesn't know Thomas. Not in the way he knows Meagon, Rotation, or even Gray. Everything he does know about Thomas is practically all second-hand information.

Yet despite that, despite everything, Mike doesn't want to leave. Maybe he doesn't know Thomas, but that doesn't mean he can't learn to.

Mike blindly reaches a hand up to clasp the ones holding his face and, heart pounding in his chest, he tilts his head against Thomas's palm and presses a kiss into the skin. He hears Thomas's breath hitch, and his nerves feel alight with a fire he's never felt before.

His eyes flutter open into a half-lidded state and meets Thomas's wide and flushed gaze head on.

"I want to though," Mike croaks out, answering his question from before, pale cheeks tinted pink from the admission. He tilts his head further into Thomas's hold, and lets himself be pulled into the dark, alluring pool of his eyes. "Do you?"

Thomas's eyes flicker over Mike's face before falling onto the other's lips as Mike wets them with his tongue. Mike watches the way Thomas's Adam's apple moves as he swallows.

He moves his hands to rest against Thomas's waist as the other lets his body fall forward, only stopping until the tips of their noses brush against each other.

Thomas looks back up into Mike's eyes. "I do," he whispers, his eyes falling shut before taking that final leap forward.

Mike's eyes fall shut as he feels Thomas's lips brush against his, sending a shock down his spine. Feeling bold, he tightens his grip on Thomas's hips and presses his lips forward. Thomas gasps against him, and he moves to swallow it up.

He feels so alive. Mike's lips move in tandem with Thomas, the tips of their noses brush with each tilt of their head. Mike has never felt so hungry before. He slips his hands under Thomas's shirt, feeling a little desperate. He wants to feel his skin, wants to know the way it feels against his. As he drags his fingertips against the smooth expanse of Thomas's waist, feeling the warmth radiating off of its surface, Mike feels him jolt under his hands. He grins against his lips, tracing circles with the tips of his thumb, enjoying the little twitches as Thomas's body gets used to the cold touches against his skin.

Yet Thomas doesn't pull away, instead settling himself further against Mike's chest to suck on his bottom lip, turning the tables on him as Mike's breath catches in his throat. He can't stop the little noises that slip out as Thomas nibbles on his bottom lip, soothing the sting by gently suckling on it with his own. The two continue on like this, exchanging open mouthed kisses, pressing up against each other whenever they can in a way that leaves their bodies wired and flushed.

Eventually, Mike has to pull away in order to breath. His eyes flutter open, and he huffs out a laugh when he sees Thomas chasing after his lips.

Mike presses his forehead against his, rubbing his hands over the other's waist. "What happened to feeling unwell?" He asks, cheekily.

Thomas' eyes flutter open, revealing the heated look reflecting in his amber gaze. He leans back in, brushing his nose gently against Mike's as he rests his weight forward.

"You know, for a second there," Thomas mumbles, and Mike shivers at the other's hot breath against his lips, "I thought you were going to make a joke about being my remedy." And then Thomas slots his mouth back over Mike's, pulling him into another kiss.

Mike is grinning to himself as they exchange a few more open mouthed kisses. He brings his hand back up to cup Thomas' cheek, caressing it with his thumb as he's forced backwards onto his elbows.

Goosebumps prickle his skin as Thomas starts trailing kisses along his jaw. His heart rate spikes when Thomas moves his mouth around the piercings decorating his earlobe, briefly nibbling the area before trailing his lips back down continuing his path to Mike's neck.

"Why are you so good at this?" He gasps out, clutching the back of Thomas's head just as his teeth graze Mike's skin.

His body tingles as he feels the way Thomas's lips smile into his neck.

"Maybe you're just bad at this," he says. Thomas pulls back and looks down at Mike's flushed complexion. He drags a thumb over Mike's kiss-bitten bottom lip. He leans back in to kiss the underside of his jaw before whispering, "Maybe I've just got the advantage over you when it comes to kissing hot men."

Mike frowns. With a grunt, he manages to flip them over so that Thomas is laying backward on the bed with Mike looming over him.

He rests one hand beside Thomas's head while the other unties the bandanna wrapped around Thomas's neck, causing Thomas's breath to hitch. Neither of them look away from each other's eyes as Mike manages to pull the bandana free, setting it down somewhere beside them before moving that hand down to Thomas's waist.

Mike leans down and starts placing open mouthed kisses over the expanse of the other's neck. "Who says you have the advantage?" he asks, his hot breath brushing over the exposed damp skin making Thomas shiver. He trails his lips down the curve of Thomas's neck, gently nibbling as he goes, fuelled by the breathy gasps leaving Thomas's lips. "You don't know if I've kissed hot men before."

He feels Thomas's hand come up to cup the back of his neck. Mike abandons his task and let's himself be guided back up to Thomas's face, who leans up to capture his lips.

They exchange a few more kisses before Thomas pulls back, puffs of air slipping through his parted lips in short bursts. "Well have you?" he asks.

Mike blinks down at him. "Have I what?" he asks, breathlessly.

"Have you kissed men before?"

"I…"

Mike feels like he's been dumped in cold water.

He abruptly pulls away from Thomas, barely processing the fact that Thomas slowly sits up before Mike drops backwards onto the bed beside where the other had just been laying. He covers his face with his hands. "Fuck."

He hears Thomas laugh, but it sounds almost uncomfortable. "I'm not that bad of a kisser, am I?" he asks.

"No, it's not that. I just." Mike groans into his hands before dragging them down to hold his cheeks. "Fuck, man, this whole time I thought I was straight."

Thomas bites his lip. "Is…that bad?"

Mike suddenly realizes how that sounds. "Wait no, fuck." He sits up and turns to Thomas, grabbing both of his hands in his own. "I really liked kissing you. Fuck, dude I think you actually ruined kissing for me for life."

Thomas flushes. "I guess that's not the worst thing I could be hearing right now," he says, a small grin poking through his expression. Thomas gently nudges Mike with his shoulder. "For what it's worth, I liked kissing you too."

But then he frowns. "But if that wasn't the issue, then what's the problem?"

Mike buries his face in his hands again.

"Thomas, how the hell am I supposed to explain to people that my bisexual awakening happened in the gay room?"

Thomas snorts before bursting out into uncontrollable laughter. Mike rolls his eyes. "Yeah yeah, laugh it up," he grumbles, but he isn't actually all that hung up about the other's reaction. Thomas looks pretty when he's laughing.

Mike's face warms up at his own observation and looks away in embarrassment.

He suddenly feels a weight against his shoulder. He looks over and is greeted with the sight of Thomas resting his whole body against him, his brown hair tickling the space under his chin.

"Who said you have to explain anything?" Thomas suddenly says, tilting his head up to look Mike in the eyes. His eyebrows furrow. "Unless… you're not single?"

Mike blinks. But when he feels Thomas start to pull away, it clicks in his head. "What— NO!" He turns more towards Thomas, slightly dislodging him from his shoulder as he hovers his hands in front of him, hesitant to hold the other's arms. His eyes are wide as he tries to meet Thomas's eyes. "I'm not dating anyone! It's just—"

Mike drops his arms and looks down at his lap. "This whole time, I thought I only liked girls," he admits, fidgeting with his fingers. "There's actually this one girl I like…or, I thought I liked?"

He buries his face in his hands. "I'm sorry Thomas," he says, his voice muffled by his palms. His brain hurts. "I don't know what I'm doing."

Mike feels a pit growing in his stomach when he's met with no response, just the sounds of their breathing and the muffled sounds of the train moving down the tracks outside.

Good going RoGhost, he thinks to himself. You just had the best kiss you've ever had with the first guy you find attractive, and then you go and ruin it.

He's pulled out of his wallowing when he feels two hands gently grasp at his wrists. He lets his hands be pulled away from his face, and he looks up to find amber eyes looking back at him. Thomas brings their hands down to their laps without breaking eye contact.

"You're single?" Thomas asks, as if double checking. It's hard for Mike to tell based on the other's expression.

"I'm single."

"So, the reason you feel like you have to explain your gay awakening has nothing to do with having a partner."

Mike shakes his head aggressively, giving himself a small headache. But he needs to get the point across. "I'm just kind of stupid," he ends up saying.

"I don't think you're that stupid."

"Okay well, that makes it sound like you think I'm a little stupid."

Thomas's lips twitch. "You're the one who said it, not me," he argues, his hands drifting down from the other's wrists to loosely grip Mike's hands. And that's when Mike realizes that he's being teased.

Mike groans and tries to hide in his hands again. Unfortunately for him, his hands are still being held, and it didn't seem like they'd be released anytime soon. "Thomas."

Thomas starts laughing. He refuses to let go of the other's hands, so when Mike continues to try and hide his face, Thomas lets his body be dragged forward. He keeps giggling as he rests his body against Mike's chest, and Mike feels all his annoyance flow out of him at the beautiful sound.

Mike somehow manages to wrap his arms around Thomas. "You're so lucky you're pretty," he grumbles into the other's hair.

Thomas hiccups a little from his laughing, letting go of Mike's hands to hold onto the other's shoulders. He leans up to press a kiss against the underside of Mike's jaw. "So what you're saying is that I have pretty privilege?" he teases.

Mike moves his head to gently bite Thomas's cheek, causing the other to laugh again as he tries to push Mike away.

"Aw come on," Thomas complains. "You have to admit that it's a reasonable concern."

Mike removes his teeth. "It was, but you didn't have to agree that I was stupid," he pouts.

"I said I didn't think you were that stupid," Thomas argues, peppering little kisses over Mike's cheeks, before sinking into the other's arms. "At least I know that I'm not helping you cheat on someone."

Mike lets his intrusive thoughts win and pinches Thomas's side, causing the other to yelp and lightly smack him.

The moment is interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Mike? Are you in there?"

"Oh hey it's Meagon," Mike mumbles. Then his face pales. "Oh fuck, it's Meagon."

Mike pulls away from Thomas, barely getting the chance to mourn the loss he caused, before the knocking resumes.

"I heard that you jerk." He hears from outside in the hall. "Mike what the hell man, we've been looking all over for you! What happened to getting some fresh air?"

Mike shares a look with Thomas before speaking up. "I'm sorry Meagon," he calls out, "I got dis—"

"Sorry?!" Meagon interrupts him. Oh she sounds really annoyed. "Mike, Rotation is going through the train in a panic looking for you. The longer you stayed gone, the more it looked like he was about to burst into tears."

"…You're not exaggerating, are you."

"What gave it away."

Mike closes his eyes and drags a hand down his face. Fuck, he didn't mean to worry them. "I'll be out soon," he promises. "For real this time."

"You better," he hears Meagon grumble, before she raises her voice again, "Just get your butt out of there."

He hears a sigh. "I'm going to go find the others and tell them I found you. Meet us at the dining car."

"Yes ma'am!" he says, doing a little salute with his arm despite knowing Meagon can't actually see it, and listens to her footsteps move farther and farther away.

He lowers his arm back down to his side.

Thomas leans against Mike and takes his hand. "We still need to talk," he states, rubbing his thumb over the other's pale hand.

Mike presses up against Thomas, clutching his hand. "…About the kiss?"

"Well, yeah. But also like, is this just a one time thing?" He looks at Mike. "Do you want this to be a one time thing?"

Mike thinks for a moment. Do I? Right now, in this room—in this train—it feels like they're in a bubble. Like they're in their own little world. But once the train stops, and they step onto that platform… what happens next? Does he want to date Thomas? Does Thomas want him? If yes, they also have to think about how a relationship would even work when they get back to their old lives. They're both still in school, but unlike with Grayleigh, Mike doesn't know what school Thomas goes to. Would it have to be a long-distance relationship?

And speaking of…what about Grayleigh? Does he even still like her like that, now that he's had this moment with Thomas? Something inside him tells Mike that he does, but that leaves him more confused about what to do.

Mike leans forward and presses his forehead against Thomas's, feeling the other's brown bangs brush against his skin. "I…I don't know," he admits. He sees Thomas start to frown and continues, "I don't think I want this to be a one time thing, but you're right that this is something we should talk about."

He moves his head away to drop his forehead down onto Thomas's shoulder. It's an awkward position for his neck, due to him being slightly taller than Thomas, but he ignores it when he feels the other start carting his fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes at the soothing motion. "What I do know," he says. "Is that I wouldn't mind getting to know you more."

Mike tilts his head, still resting against the other's collarbone, to look up at Thomas through the curtain of his own white bangs. "Is that…okay?"

Thomas hums as Mike waits in anticipation. "I think I can work with that," Thomas says, before tilting his head to press a kiss against the top of his head. Mike has to hide his face so that Thomas can't see his smile.

"Just," Thomas pulls away and flicks Mike on the forehead, "Don't ghost me RoGhost."

Mike huffs out a laugh before flopping back down on the bed. "Wouldn't dream of it," he agrees, adding a wink just for good measures.

Thomas shakes his head as he turns to look down at him, but he's smiling enough that Mike can see his teeth poking through. The view from below has Mike wishing he could see this view everyday. His face flushes a bright red as the thought settles somewhere deep within his chest. How the hell did he not realize he was into guys sooner? But then he looks Thomas in the eyes, and Thomas gives him a small smile, and Mike thinks that maybe he just hadn't met his type of man before today.

Despite having promised Meagon he'd join the rest of their group, the two of them stay in the room for a few more minutes, just enjoying each other's company. Eventually, Mike figures that he's tested Meagon's patience long enough and, with a sigh, begrudgingly gets off of the bed.

"I should probably go meet up with them…" He turns around and offers Thomas a hand. "You want to come with?"

Thomas hesitates. "I would," he says, picking at his hands. "But I think that if I don't get back to the Hostel group, Mr. Flux is going to pull a Meagon."

Mike doesn't pull back his hand. "Counterpoint," he says. "If we run into the rest of the Hostel group, you can invite them to join us." He wiggles his fingers at Thomas.

Thomas looks at the hand, biting his lip in thought. He looks back up at Mike before grabbing it. "You're lucky you're pretty," he says, a small smile on his face.

Mike whoops as he pulls Thomas to his feet. "You're the pretty one here," he argues, winking as he goes to open the door. He feels his own smile widen at the pretty flush spreading over Thomas's face.

Thomas rolls his eyes. "Start moving RoGhost," he says, ushering him out of the room.

With matching smiles, the two walk out of the flag room, hand in hand, as the door shuts closed behind them.