Michaels in Love (BoyXBoy) English

Chapter 27 - Season 1: Sweet Angel

02:00 AM, February 14, 2012

The rain had softened into a gentle drizzle by the time Mike and I arrived in Sampaloc. The earlier storm had passed, leaving behind a quiet, damp stillness that clung to the air. The faint glow of streetlights reflected off the wet pavement as Mike pulled his sleek BMW to a stop in front of the dormitory next to our house.

I turned to him, leaning closer to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Take care on the drive home, Baby. I love you," I murmured, letting the words linger between us as I pulled away.

His eyes softened, his smile warm as he replied, "I love you too, Michael."

I stepped out of the car, the cool drizzle brushing against my skin as I reached for the gate. Just as I slid the key into the lock, I heard his voice calling from the open car window.

"Michael... Michael... Baby," he said, his tone carrying an almost desperate tenderness.

I turned, curiosity flickering in my chest. "Mike?"

He hesitated, as if weighing his next words, then said softly, "Baby Michael, can I stay with you tonight?"

The question sent my heart into a fluttering rhythm, and for a moment, I stood frozen in place. "I'd love that," I admitted, my voice tinged with regret, "but I can't. Uncle Jerry will be looking for me in the morning."

Mike's brows furrowed briefly before an idea seemed to light up his face. His voice grew quieter, more intimate. "You don't have to come with me. Can I stay with you? Sleep next to you in your bed, Baby?"

His sincerity hit me like a tidal wave, and I couldn't bring myself to say no. "Okay," I said softly, a smile tugging at my lips. "But park your car inside the dorm. Let me unlock the gate first."

He nodded, his eyes brightening as he followed my instructions. I led him into the small dormitory lot, which I helped manage part-time. The owner trusted me, and I knew parking Mike's car here was safer than leaving it outside.

The dormitory wasn't much—just an aging, three-story building shared by several families and tenants. The houses around us were tightly packed, the kind of neighborhood where privacy was a luxury, but Mike didn't seem to mind.

Once we were inside, the house was silent, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards. Uncle Jerry was sound asleep, and we moved quietly, navigating through the narrow hallways to reach my room at the top floor.

My room was simple, tucked away near the bathroom and a short walk from the shared living area and kitchen. As we stepped inside, Mike took a seat on my bed, the mattress dipping slightly beneath his weight.

"I'll take a quick shower," I said, tossing a glance over my shoulder. "Want to join me?"

Mike blinked, momentarily caught off guard. A grin spread across his face, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. "Wha—?" he stammered, his laughter bubbling to the surface.

"What's with that smile?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him playfully.

"Nothing," he said, though his grin widened as his gaze flicked to something on the wall behind me.

I turned, following his eyes, and felt my cheeks flush. There, hanging prominently on my wall, was a glossy calendar poster of Mike—the very same one he had modeled for Manchester Garden City. His perfectly sculpted body and confident smile stared back at me, larger than life.

He stood, walking over to the poster with an amused expression. "So, this is where you've been hiding it," he teased. Then, striking the exact same pose as in the photo, he turned to me with a smirk. "How do I look, Michael? Did I nail it?"