Johnny And Mike

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       About a week later, our pair walked home together as usual. "Today was great," Johnny beamed. "Everybody sang so well! Except, well, Gunter, but you gotta admit, Rosita more than made up for it!"
       "You're not wrong.." Mike admitted shyly. "That Meena seriously stole the show. Now if she can only perform like that in front of a thousand people next week.."
       "Oh, she'll do fine."
       "Right, cuz she did fine last time."
       Johnny's head whipped over to the mouse on his shoulder. "Meena did great last time!"
       "She literally destroyed the stage!"
       "The place was practically falling apart anyway. What can you expect from a sunset-long reconstruction session by a bunch of broadway geeks!?"
       Mike laughed, unrestrained. He was so happy for some reason. Fall had set in, it was ugly cold, and the wind pierced his sweater. He should have been complaining. He practically deserved to complain. But here he was, losing himself over some kid calling him a broadway geek. "Hey hey hey hey, I'm no broadway geek! I've got class. Style." He said this while puffing out his chest and tugging up his collar. Johnny nearly fell laughing, almost sending Mike tumbling off his shoulder. "Hey, easy!" the mouse warned as he held on.
       He caught a glimpse of Johnny's laughing face. It was all red. He knew Johnny would hate him for it, but he whipped out his phone and snapped a photo with the falling-apart Johnny.
       God, he felt like such a kid with this gorilla. This freaking 18 year old gorilla. Ugh, he couldn't handle it. He steered Johnny into a nearby alley and kissed him, between laughing fits, on the mouth. That snapped Johnny out of it eventually.
       "Heheh, what am I gonna do with you?" Johnny giggled.
       "I could say just the same thing! You almost killed me with your little episode over there. I had to get you..." He looked out. People passed by. A few noticed. A little girl stared.
       "..Outta the public eye," Mike finished, clearing his throat uncomfortably.
       "You alright?"
       Mike looked back.
       "You look sick all of a sudden."
       "Move." Mike dropped into Johnny's pocket.
       "Mmkay." Johnny stepped out onto the street, hands in his pockets, shielding the mouse. He glimpsed the bears as he went.
       "Run," he could swear he heard Mike say.
       "No. They'll get suspicious. I'll turn this corner and run."
       "Please. I have more experience with these guys than you d-"
       "Shut up or we're dead." Johnny heard Mike's breath seize. He turned the corner, took a few steps, and was the wind. Mike heard wheels screech.

       Before they knew it, they were at the garage. Johnny tore off his jacket, limping over to the couch. He took out the mouse, who had his eyes squeezed shut. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "H-hey, you're okay. You're okay. Please don't cry," Johnny tried comforting Mike between gasps for air.
       Mike opened his eyes and blinked a few times. "Oh my god, Johnny, Johnny, it's you." He covered his eyes with his arms. Johnny moved the arms and held him close. They sat like that until Mike was done crying.

       "Wanna watch something?"
       "...Odder Stuff. I'll make popcorn."
       Johnny suddenly kissed Mike passionately and hugged him tight, then let go. "Thanks, Mikey."
       "Hehehehnything for you, sweetheart..." Mike drawled, stumbling away.

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