Brian stopped by Mikey's room on his way up to the party, frowning as he poked his head in the door. "Hey. What the fuck are you doing in here all by yourself? There's a party."
Brian sighed and rolled his eyes as he slipped into the room and sat on the edge of Mikey's bed. "What is it now, Mikey?" he asked, nudging Mikey's hip with his ass so there'd be room for him to stretch out next to him.
As soon as Ben had heard that Debbie was no longer on the island, he'd worked himself to what was the zen equivalent of a pitched run to Michael's room. The celebration mattered little to Ben if Michael wasn't there. Whatever they were working toward was... definitely underway.
He rapped lightly on the doorframe, just in case his roommate was around or Michael was indisposed or not there.
"Michael? It's Ben," he said lowly, a cup of mango juice in each hand.
Micheal had been lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, hands behind his head, thinking about as much nothing as he could.
At first, he thought he'd imagined the light knock, then dismissed it as a noise from the party above him. But at the sound of his name, he looked up. His face was tired and sad, but his expression was still one of surprise. "Ben? What are you doing here?" Despite his grief, he couldn't help being a glad to see him. "Why aren't you at the party?"
When Ben pushed the curtain aside and entered the room, the forward motion was knocked out of him. Michael sitting there, face etched down into a mask of morning would have been too much to bear, but his eyes seemed to dance. He wanted him there.
"I took a look in. I'm not so much the party guy these days," Ben said, offering Michael one of the cups. "Mango juice. And." He set his cup down and grabbed the plates that he set on the floor outside. "There's amazing food down there. So I brought your some lasagna." The other plate had tofu stirfry. The island was doing something right.
Micheal wanted to smile, he did, but he wasn't up for it. Still, his eyes smiled briefly and the corners of his mouth twitched. Ben's presence was...really comforting.
He gladly took the cup and moved so he was sitting with his legs crossed so there was room for Ben to join him on the bed. He sensed the untruth yet honesty but at that moment he couldn't care.
Until the food came. At the sight of the hauntingly familiar dish Micheal's mood dropped before he could stop it. It even smelled like hers. He ducked his head, not wanting Ben to see the tears in his eyes or the disappointment on his face.
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He said flatly.
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He rapped lightly on the doorframe, just in case his roommate was around or Michael was indisposed or not there.
"Michael? It's Ben," he said lowly, a cup of mango juice in each hand.
Reply
At first, he thought he'd imagined the light knock, then dismissed it as a noise from the party above him. But at the sound of his name, he looked up. His face was tired and sad, but his expression was still one of surprise. "Ben? What are you doing here?" Despite his grief, he couldn't help being a glad to see him. "Why aren't you at the party?"
Reply
"I took a look in. I'm not so much the party guy these days," Ben said, offering Michael one of the cups. "Mango juice. And." He set his cup down and grabbed the plates that he set on the floor outside. "There's amazing food down there. So I brought your some lasagna." The other plate had tofu stirfry. The island was doing something right.
Reply
He gladly took the cup and moved so he was sitting with his legs crossed so there was room for Ben to join him on the bed. He sensed the untruth yet honesty but at that moment he couldn't care.
Until the food came. At the sight of the hauntingly familiar dish Micheal's mood dropped before he could stop it. It even smelled like hers. He ducked his head, not wanting Ben to see the tears in his eyes or the disappointment on his face.
Reply
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