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Micro's eyes squint against the force of his own smile. "There is genuinely no way that's true." He's half stretched across the mini bar, watching Thomas laugh lightheartedly as he puts the popcorn in the microwave.
"Sadly, I can't deny my dark past," Thomas replies with a dramatic sigh that makes Micro giggle, "but in our defense when you leave seven college kids in one hotel room after they just had the worst trip of their lives you can only expect a little bloodshed."
Micro shakes his head at this, but quickly abandons his disapproval in favor of laughing his ass off at Thomas. All the while Thomas stares at him warmly. There's a certain feeling that gets stirred in his chest whenever he sees the way Micro looks at home here. Hanging out in the middle of the night, watching movies that Gray has been telling them they just have to see. Micro perfectly comfortable sitting around in… wait.
Thomas squints at the yellow poking out from under Micro's hoodie. "Isn't that mine?" He gets closer as Micro freezes up like a cat hovering over water. A smirk worms its way onto his face as he walks around the counter and tugs at the neck of the hoodie just a bit. Just as he thought, around Micro's neck is his bandana. The same one that went missing a month back, the one he had given up searching for.
"Did you have this the whole time?" He asks with a chuckle, but Micro doesn't reply. His fingers graze the folds of the fabric, trailing a bit down his chest as he looks up at Micro's expression. His eyes are wide and his lip is twitching, but the main event is the look on his face. Red-hot blush trails from his forehead all the way down below his neckline, and Thomas can imagine the heat beneath the spot where his hand rests on the other man's chest.
He is sure that he should find something to say before things get awkward. But he ignores his better judgement in favor of a little curiosity. His hand continues on the winding path of Micro, crossing from chest to shoulder and traveling down his arm, gently wrapping around his wrist and sliding Micro's hand on top of his own. His thumb traces down his wrist into the other's palm and he watches amazed as the skin beneath his fingers practically glows. He feels the way Micro holds his breath.
This is dangerous, Thomas realizes. It isn't a fact that would scare him off, but his journey in seeing just how much one person can blush is cut off but the wailing beeps of the microwave. They both jump and Micro pulls his hand from Thomas' own. Thomas straightens in response and they stare for a moment.
"I- uh. I think the popcorn's done." Micro says with a voice that sounds off-kilter.
Thomas swallows and nods in response, turning around to go grab the food. This was technically still movie night after all.
The movie isn't too bad, just nothing close to their usual level of comfort. They sit on opposite sides of Thomas' already pretty small couch, and Thomas can feel the tension settling in the back of his throat. They make little comments, laugh at the right times, but there's no running commentary like they would typically have. Micro barely even looks at him until halfway through he gives up on stubbornly sitting in an awkward position and turns towards him, using Thomas' legs to rest his own on.
He does it in a silent huff that Thomas cant help but laugh at, which makes Micro pout a bit and complain that "leg rests don't laugh," which quickly devolves into their usual back-and-forth. The tension is lifted as they poke at each other, completely distracted from the movie in favor of each other. It feels like Thomas' little adventure is all but forgotten.
Except it isn't really, because as the credits start to roll neither of the men pay it any mind. Micro rambles on about some roleplay game him and Fiend had gotten into lately and each gesture reveals a bit more of that same golden yellow scarf. Thomas cant bring himself to draw his eyes away from it. There's just something there; something about Micro wearing his things, blushing from his touch. His hand massages Micro's knee as he speaks and all he can think is that he probably blushes all the way down to his feet. He probably blushes everywhere in between that, too.
Micro's story winds down as he reaches the bottom of the popcorn bowl. "You can have the little ones," he tells Thomas. "Eating them makes me feel like a small bird pecking for scraps, and I need to earn back some dignity after that session." Thomas looks at him in amusement and he takes the bowl, putting it to the side instead and then turning back to face Micro.
There's a moment where neither of them have anything to say. They stare with soft smiles that must look painfully sappy from the outside and Thomas keeps his hand resting on Micro's knee. It just feels right not to break contact first. If Micro wants to pull away again, Thomas wont stop him. But he doesn't pull back. He doesn't look away from Thomas either.
They stare into each other's eyes as if in a trance, and Thomas sees the way Micro's eyes lower and flick back. He takes a breath and moves closer, hand trailing up from Micro's knee to his hip and pulling them closer together. Micro bites his own lip as their faces are an inch away, and Thomas uses his other hand to cup Micro's face. He uses his thumb to trace Micro's lip and open his mouth just a bit. Their lips meet for what may or may not be the first time and every part of Thomas' body hums with satisfaction.
It's a feeling of oh, there you are, that he had been missing. A reconnection with a piece of himself that he had been looking for. He leans into Micro and Micro leans back, Thomas' hand now cushioning his head against the arm of the couch as they fold into each other. They break for a moment as Thomas takes a short breath, but Micro draws him back, his groan of dissatisfaction swallowed by Thomas deepening the kiss once more. Thomas can feel the smile against his lips. It makes his heart race even more.
Thomas envisions how red Micro must be now. He adjusts the hand on his hip, snaking up Micro's purple hoodie and pinching at the warm skin. Micro pulls back and Thomas gets a good look at him, beet red and hair wild. He squints at Thomas and Thomas smirks back, eyes lowering to his neck. Slowly Thomas moves to plant a trail of kisses along Micro's chin all the way down his neck, stopping just above his collar. There, he sees his bandana once more.
Thomas stares at it, and Micro watches him. "Sorry I never gave it back," he says, his voice low and a little embarrassed. "I just needed it to cover these for a little."
Thomas watches Micro tug the bandana off, and pulling his hoodie down enough that Thomas can see… piercings. Two silver studs along each of his collarbones.
"I got a little bored not getting any new ones, so I just went for it and got these. Always thought they'd be cool." Cool is certainly one way to describe them, though Thomas can think of many others. "I hated the feeling of them against my clothes and this has been the easiest fix." Thomas nods absently not concerned with the bandana any longer. He blows a shot if air at them and Micro twitches. He leans down, kissing the area around them. They're absolutely gorgeous; or maybe it's just that Micro is.
Thomas kisses his way along Micro's sensitive collar. "Amazing," he whispers. "Beautiful." With every breath he thanks Micro for simply being, sharing every word his mind came up with to describe him over the years. He feels the way Micro unwinds into him with each press of his lips.
Satisfied with himself, Thomas brings his hand from under Micro's hoodie to hold the other man's hand. Their fingers intertwine as Thomas leans away from Micro's neck and brings his knuckles to his lips, planting a kiss on each one. It feels greedy of him to do, but he wants to keep pushing. He wants to see the limit of the wonderful redness that Micro has been swallowed by at this point.
Micro's fingers all match the shade of his face and it all feels so amazing to Thomas. It feels right that he was the one to cause that. That he was the one to draw all this out of Micro. His chest feels so warm that it could burst and he wonders to himself that if he blushed the same way Micro did, they would both be glowing a brilliant shade of red tonight. He likes the thought of it.