50# Waking up next to you
A/n - I've been working in this on in like forever
Michael fixed his rearview mirror, positioning it down so he can see your sleeping face half covered by his favorite blanket in the backseat of his beat up Camry. Something he had paid for himself from doing small time gigs with his bandmates. It was a piece of shit and he knew it, but the fact that he paid for it himself was enough to bring a smile to his face every time someone reminded him of how much of a dump it really was. He ran through memories of last night as he drove and drove with no destination other than “away from here, away from everyone. Just me and you Mikey.” He ran his hand through his hair and considered how stupid this little scheme really was. He knew you well, he knew how self-destructive and impulsive you were, and damn him straight to hell, but he loved that about you. He loved how everything you did kept him on his toes. He loved how much of a short fuse you had with everyone but him. And fuck did he love how your eyes glazed over when you went deep in thought, deep into the small crevices in your mind that he knew no one would ever reach, because that’s who you were. You were the girl who could lose herself in her own mind, but you were also the girl who often had trouble finding a way out of there. Which, in all honest, scared Michael to bits. He loved you, but he was terrified of you, simply because you were the one thing he was afraid he couldn’t save you from. He pulled up to an old donut shop in the middle of some interstate he didn’t even know. But really, what was the point in knowing when there was no place to go. He parked the car and left it running so the heater would keep you warm, making sure to lock all the doors as quietly as possible. He quickly paid for two coffees and a half dozen donuts. He added an unholy amount of sugar to his coffee while leaving yours untouched. “I like it black, like my soul…” He chuckled, remembering the first time he had asked you out for coffee. It was crazy to think how long ago that was. How he had fallen so fast for you, but that’s what it always was. The friend hopelessly in love with the girl who didn’t know how to love.
Michael opened up his door and drove off, hoping to not wake you until he could find a nice place to hide out for the day. Maybe then he could talk some sense into you. He soon found a cheap motel that looked shady at best, but he wasn’t sure how much longer you both would be here and he couldn’t risk running out of money so soon. He paid for a room and carried you in while still completely passed out, laying you down on the bed as gently as he could. He moved your hair away from your face, frowning when he could now see your mascara stained cheeks. The sun would be rising soon and he knew he wouldn’t get much sleep unless he took advantage of the couple hours you still had on you time clock. He brought the donuts and coffee and quietly locked the door, pulling the blanket off of the bed and laying as far as possible from you. As much as he wanted to hold you and touch you, he knew now wasn’t the time, and there was no one else he could respect as much as he did you, so he fell asleep for what seemed like 10 minutes to him. He woke up scrunching his nose from feeling your hair rubbing up against it. His hands were wrapped around your waist while your fingers intertwined in his, holding them there. Michael tried to move away before you realized what he’d done, but you let out a small whine and pulled him closer to your backside. He bit his lip, trying to control every dirty thought that flashed in his mind. “Stop it, Mikey,” you said sleepily, “just one more minute.” Michael sighed in contentment, daring to kiss your exposed shoulder before whispering “okay,” against your skin. You were wearing an old sweater of his that was big on him, ridiculously huge on you, but you loved how it smelled, and he loved how it fell off your shoulder, making you look so effortlessly breathtaking. He became so lost in thought that when you started squirming in his hold, he spazzed a bit and nearly pushed himself away from you. “No, please don’t let go,” you pleaded, leaning closer against his chest and reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. “Good morning, babe” - “Morning, (Y/N)” he smiled, kissing your temple slightly. “I got coffee and donuts,” Michael offered and nodded towards the night stand. “OOOO!” You hoped up and bounced over to the side of the bed, taking a sip of the closest cup. “Blej!” you winced, handing him his cup. “That’s like diabetes in a cup!” “Well, yours tastes like cat piss,” Michael sat up and looked at the time. He slept for a little over an hour. “Does not, you just have to acquire a taste for it,” You smiled over your shoulder before turning back to the donuts and bringing them to the center of the bed. You chewed in silence, making small noises of appreciation and looking over at Michael with such adoration. “God! These are amazing!” You said with a mouth full of donut, “eat some please, you look dead” You pouted, shoving a piece of your donut in his face. Michael chuckled and did as he was told, nipping at your finger before you could pull your hand away. “Heeeeeey!” You laughed, shoving him over slightly and jumping on top of him. You became a giggling mess as soon as he decided to play along, flipping you down onto the bed, donuts and coffee forgotten. “That’s no fair, you’re bigger than me!” “That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?” He winked, subconsciously getting closer. He hated to admit it, but half the time he fantasized about kissing you. It wasn’t like you hadn’t kissed him before, but the rare times that you did, you were either too drunk to remember, or too emotional for it to mean anything. It hurt him, but he just couldn’t stay away. “Hey, Mikey?” You asked, attempting to keep your voice steady. You’d never admit this to yourself, let alone him, but if there was ever anyone you wanted to be with forever, it’d definitely be him. You knew better than to say those things out loud. Once they were out in the open, you couldn’t take them back, and that’s something you always did. You were impulsive. You kissed boys and then turned the other cheek because you decided they meant nothing to you. It was only a matter of time before they left, too. But not Michael. “Yeah?” he asked, all too aware of his body pressed onto yours, but too afraid to move and cause this whole situation to be awkward, for you to go and hide behind those walls he could sometimes catch glimpses of. “Kiss me.” Was your only response. Before his mind could register what he was doing, his lips touched yours. This was different, though. He knew you were upset about something that happened last night before you two took off. But he knew this was you talking. It wasn’t your emotions and it wasn’t the alcohol or the drugs that some idiot had convinced you to take at some party to try and take advantage of you before Michael had a chance to swoop in and save the day, like he always did. This was you. (Y/N). Sober. Awake. Asking him to kiss you. And this kiss feltdifferent. He could almost feel like you liked him back, like you wanted him, even a fraction of how much he wanted you. He pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, the taste of your powered donut lingering on his tongue. “(Y/N), we can’t stay here.” He finally spoke, pressing his nose against your cheek, then moving down to rest his face against your shoulder, inhaling your perfume. “I know,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, Michael. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I’m such an idiot.” “Hey,” he rolled off of you, laying on his side so he was still facing you, “I’m here because I want to be. You didn’t force me to drive you away from that place. I wanted to be the one you came to. I will always be here for you.” You nodded, hesitantly. “Can we stay? Just for a few more minutes?” You asked, scooting closer to him and grabbing his hand, tracing patterns on the back of his palm. “Of course (Y/N)” He smiled, leaning over to place a small peck on your lips, hoping that was okay, but too selfish to ask for permission. “I love you, Michael.” You whispered, closing your eyes from fear of what came next. Every ounce of emotion you could muster you put into those 3 little words, making sure he knew you meant as more than just friends. You meant it the way he means it when you returns those same words to you. You weren’t sure why you decided to let him in entirely now. Maybe it was the donuts, or the coffee, or even this shitty room in the middle of God knows where and the fact that he did this all for you, all because you ran to him crying about some stupid thing you had caused at the party you had went to last night. But you couldn’t hold back anymore. If anyone had a right to hurt you and break you into a million pieces, it was Michael. It had always been him.