Slow Beat to the Rhythm

We're Waiting For That Moment

A/N: Thank you for voting, commenting, adding this to your library/reading list, and most of all, reading!! Although this is a fast-paced story, it's over now :) This chapter is different from the version on my Ao3 account, so if you're not satisfied with this ending, check out the alternate ending. [Due to procrastination as well as personal life, the alternate ending will be published somewhere near November 20th]

This story was so fun to write... usually I'll have Writer's Block or a long hiatus if I reach like five chapters. And the ending is actually not that logical, because they can easily blow their cover if someone sees them, haha.

Shout-outs to bmocirl + strangelyaddixted + Rsipley + arrow-flash-back + peachschnapps + SensitiveGemini +  InRealLifeisbae + jjhavoc + kaguragrl16 for voting/commenting/adding to reading list. Yo, you guys are amazing. 
I appreciate every single reader who has put their own free time to read this story. It's crazy, because this story couldn't have happened without all of you. Honestly, you guys motivate me into continuing this. As long as someone reads it, even one person, I'm happy.
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"WE COULD try to sing only," Michael says.

"Really? You're not just saying that because we're, like, y'know?"

"I think I get your point of view. Maybe this one time I won't rap." Michael shrugs, moving on to a question that's essential to him. "What are we?"

"Boyfriends? Friends with benefits? Anything you want." Chance looks at Michael. "This all seems fast. Like, I just . . . wow."

"You don't like going fast? We can go slow, then."

Chance nods his head. "We'll start by sitting next to each other, watching the sunset. Then we'll stare deeply into each other's eyes," he says with mock seriousness, but it's actually not that bad of an idea.

Michael snorts. Just like their very first song session, he's sitting on the chair and Chance is sitting on the bed. The only difference is that both of them are in Chance's room. Well, they prefer their room, but for a technical matter, it's still Chance's. They've spent a month in California, together. Tentatively they went on dates, watched movies together, spent time cuddling and even kissing. "You have no idea how long I wanted to be with you," he admits.

"I imagine it was when I went shirtless."

"No, that was like a . . . that was way later. I just. I really like you, and I-I just want to be with you."

Chance stands up. "What was your first impression of me?" Immediately, it reminds them both of the conversation they had back in the park in Los Angeles.

Usually words are Michael's forté. He can think of lines on the spot, but this is different. It takes time for him to formulate a reply that's personal, and to a person he loves and cares for so much. "You looked so confident, and amazing. Your singing blew me away. You're kinda like a firework, 'cause I couldn't take my eyes off you on that stage."

Chance looks so happy, even though it's kind of a sappy line and all he wants to do at the moment is kiss Michael. He walks over to his boyfriend. "Want to make it official?"