5SOS Smut

We Work Well Together -Michael

We Work Well Together
ketchupfromyoutube

Summary:

You and Michael don't get along at all. And as the stars would have it, you two are paired together for a school project. What you don't expect is how alike you are. Lost, worried, perhaps a little sexually frustrated.
You two work together to fix that right up.
Work Text:

"No way."

Michael just shook his head and rolled his eyes beside you, choosing silence here.

"Seriously...?" You dropped your shoulders, swinging your gaze over to the blue haired boy. Michael's lips stretched to one massive smile.

"I...what are you smiling about?"

"It's hilarious how pissed off you are," Michael said around the fucking lollipop he had in his mouth, staining his tongue a bright red.

"I fucking-"

"Look. I'm not thrilled about this either y/n. But we have to do it so...quit whining," he punctuated his words with yet another eye roll and a lick of the candy.

Then he was walking out, leaving you to stand by the project partners list posted on the white board.

+++

"Okay so...we have to make a powerpoint on the effects of consumerism on society so I was thinking...." you trailed off as you watched Michael close his eyes. He was lounged on your ottoman in your living room because the boy insisted you both work at your place. Which was fine...it was just peachy. If only he would actually listen.

"Michael? Are you listening?" You sighed and decided the best way to stir him would be to clap your hands really loud...right in his face.

"Fuck!"

"Good afternoon and thank you for joining me, Clifford." You're laughing and don't feel one fucking ounce of pity for his scrunched up face of pain.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you're just a joy...aren't you?" Michael affronted while rubbing his eyes again and again.

"Whatever...you were falling asleep and we have to work on this! Seriously...I don't know why you have to give me such a hard time."

Michael blinks at you, the way you sort of deflate. So stressed from all of this and it shows. You know it does. Sure...people called you obsessive about your grades and thought you were just some "over-achiever", but they were just judgmental pricks. Like Michael. They didn't know how much you needed to get into college...to be the first one in your family to make it there. Needed those scholarships. And fuck this, getting paired with the one person at school you just couldn't stand.

You didn't know exactly when the whole "enemies" thing started. But there was the conflict with Michael's affinity for being the class clown and you preferring a quiet learning environment. Maybe it was his pranks or his crude jokes or that he was your next door neighbor and always played his music so fucking loud....

But you digress.

Plain and simple...Michael Clifford was sort of an ass and you needed an A in this class. In every class. Needed a full ride because mom couldn't take another job. You couldn't take another job for fuck's sake....it was all too much.

And here Michael was...catching some Z's.

"Hey...are you...alright?" Michael asked, his voice alarmingly soft. Disturbingly so, in fact. You blinked, turning to him to see his hands folded on his lap. Calm.

"What...are you okay?" You countered, swiveling on the cushion to face him.

"Uh...what is that supposed to mean? You're the one looking like your cat just died." Michael is so animated when he speaks, big hands circling the air around him. His sharp canines poke into those plump lips...and huh, you never noticed how big those things were. But why would you? You avoided this kid whenever possible.