wasting time » lh ; mc

nineteen

:: 19 ::

       Michael has learned that he says very unnecessary things. Even worse: he says those unnecessary things at the most inappropriate times. And, as a result, has yet another crisis. Sometimes he does cause his own problems; the filter that is apparently nonexistent between brain and mouth gets Michael in so many preventable situations.

Like this one.

An uncomfortable feeling made home in Michael's stomach as he thought about what he was doing. How was he going to do this? It's not like he's going to get a positive answer out of Luke. But, having it out there in the open would be better than holding it. Besides, what happened should be a sign that it's okay, right? This is okay; Michael will be fine.

He's kidding himself. Luke didn't do anything to reassure this moment. He simply listened to Michael cry about his life, again.

He sat on Luke's bedroom floor, familiar with the surroundings and feeling comfortable with them. He could hear Luke talking to his mother downstairs, where he was in the kitchen getting junk food for the pair to eat. Michael doesn't think he could hold anything down even if he tried.

He'd have to acknowledge it sometime, so as soon as Luke returned with an arm full of snacks and handed him a drink, Michael took a breath. "So, the other day..."

"Oh, yeah..." Luke coughed, a tinge to his cheeks. He wouldn't meet Michael's eye.

"That was weird, I'm sorry," Michael apologized. "And I'm also sorry for breaking down on you like that. Again."

Michael saw Luke smile and look up from the floor. "It's alright. We're over it, right?"

"I actually wanted to talk about it, I guess? Not I guess, because I really do, but—"

"Whenever you stutter I get nervous," Luke interrupted, "because you never stutter unless you get nervous."

"Can I just say it? Like, you don't have to say anything back—I'm not expecting you to." Michael squeezed his eyes shut and felt every muscle in his body tense with anxiety.

Luke chuckled lightly and reached for a bag of chips, unaware of the confession he was about to be faced with. "You're kind of scaring me, Mikey."

"I think I might like you," the hockey player confessed, peeking one eye open and letting himself relax. "No, I don't think. I do have feelings," he corrected, more confidence surging through him.

Luke stopped reaching inside of the bag and glanced back up, staring at Michael. "Oh," he said.

"Yeah," Michael whispered, "oh."

Luke hesitated, "That's okay."

"I didn't ask if it was okay," Michael muttered. "I know I'm free to like whomever I please."

"No, I didn't mean it like—"

"Like that, yeah," Michael rolled his eyes. But, his attitude quickly depleted when realizing what he'd caused. "Look, I'm just gonna go."

Luke stopped Michael before he could get up from his place on the floor, freshly-opened soda dribbling down the blond's chin as he jumped up. "Wait! I—you don't have to."

"I don't have to; I want to."

Luke's eyebrows furrowed and he stood up with Michael, blocking the door so the boy wasn't able to leave. "Why are you being an asshole now? What did I do?"