internal matters

quatre

The next few days, Michael stayed with Jim. He felt bad that he was taking up Jim's bed and apologized repeatedly, but Jim told him he didn't mind it at all, as long as Michael was comfortable.

They were a lot closer now, and it gave Michael too much time to think about Jim. He liked thinking about Jim, but sometimes his thoughts got around to Jim taking him in his arms and kissing him hard, and it left a pang in his chest; he knew it couldn't happen.

"Morning, Michael."

"Morning, Jim. You should let me cook sometimes."

"Please, Fears, you'd burn down my kitchen." In Michael's head, this is the part where he'd go over to Jim and peck him on the lips, and Jim would pull him in for a proper kiss.

In reality, it was the part where he sat down in the kitchen and watched Jim cook. He thankfully hadn't started wearing shirts, and Michael liked to watch him and imagine kissing all of him.

"I'm going back to work today. You'll be okay on your own?" Michael nodded.

"I'll be alright. I'm twenty-three. I have stayed home alone before." Jim rolled his eyes and sat down, slid a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Michael.

"Watch it."

"You love me too much to do anything." Jim's heart skipped a beat.

"Yeah," he said softly.

"I can come back today. If you want."

"Don't worry about it. Just take your time. Stay home. Relax." Michael nodded slowly, chewing in silence. The conversation turned around to their usual playful banter, something familiar, and everything felt right.

-

"Michael, I'm home, where-" Jim stopped in the doorway. He usually had a very clean house, but this was different. It was spotless.

"I'm in your room!" Jim shut the front door behind him and made his way upstairs, looking with disbelief at how it all was. He thought of Michael spending all day tidying up for him, and his heart swelled.

"Hi." Jim looked around his room. He was almost afraid to touch anything.

"Hi... Michael, did you do this all?" A shrug from the younger boy.

"It was no problem."

"You cleaned, like, my entire house. I've only been gone four hours." Michael smiled sheepishly.

"I wanted to say thanks. For helping me out."

"You didn't have to do this. Thank you."

"Of course. Um, your closet- I organized it by designer, or at least I tried, but I don't really have any clue what the difference between them is."

"Michael- Michael, put something on."

"Sorry?"

"Something... Something nice. I'm taking you out to dinner." He looked down at himself. He had a pair of ripped jeans and a t-shirt that might have been Erianna's at one point. It was far from anything Jim would consider to be nice.

"This is the nicest thing I have."

"Hold on." He went to his closet and pushed a few things out of the way, then pulled something out of the back. It was a suit, a shiny gray, and probably the most expensive thing Michael had ever touched. "Here. It might be a little big, though."

"Jim, I can't wear this."

"Why not?"

"You already let me stay in your house. I'd feel bad if I wore your clothes, too." Jim shoved it into his arms.