The Perfect Crime [ABANDONED]

Starry Night

Dean walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, yawning. He ran his fingers through his still-wet hair and walked back into his room. Michael was pulling on a Metallica t-shirt and looked exhausted.

"Dude, did you even sleep at all last night?" Dean asked. Michael nodded and tried his best to look less tired. He straightened his back and flashed a brilliant smile at Dean.

"I caught a few hours on the car ride," Michael said. Dean sat down on his bed and stared at Michael. "Why are you staring?" Michael asked.

"Because there's something you're not telling me," Dean said. Michael rolled his eyes.

"Like what? What could I possibly be keeping a secret, Dean? We've shared a room for like, four years and we're in the same grade. It's not like I could do much without you noticing," Micheal huffed.

"Unless it has something to do with your soulmate," Dean said. Michael went quiet. Dean talked about his soulmate all the time, but Michael practically acted like he didn't have one.

"Look...I just feel weird talking about it. Like...most of the time before I never really noticed. You know how sometimes you can tell that your soulmate is doing their thing just for you?" Michael asked. Dean nodded. He did know what that was like.

Sometimes, he barely noticed when Lisa was at ice skating practice or competition. Her movements were for the judges, for her partner, for herself. And was almost like elevator music, or watching your favorite movie in the background while you're doing homework. But sometimes, he could tell she was skating for him. He could tell she was thinking of him, feeling it for him. And that was the best feeling.

"And that's what's happening with you and your soulmate?" Dean asked.

"Yeah... like last night I was writing on the car ride. And I was sort of thinking about my soulmate. And then...then they started singing. Like...like they wanted me to fall asleep to their voice," Michael mumbled, shoving notebooks into his backpack. Dean didn't say anything for a long second for two reasons.

The first was that he wasn't dense enough to notice Michael was saying "they". Which meant that his soulmate was a guy, or at least Michael hoped it was. Which sort of hurt Dean's feelings, since he had hoped Michael would be comfortable enough to tell him if he was gay. They were best friends, after all. And the second reason he didn't say anything was that he wasn't used to seeing Michael over-emotional. Dean was the loose cannon, he was the angry one, the sad one, the moody one. Michael was always there, stoic as ever, to help Dean through the rough patches. And now it was Dean's turn and fuck him if he messed this up.

"And? Isn't that a good thing?" Dean said. "I mean, the guy obviously is worried about you, so he's not a douche. Can he sing well?" Dean asked as he walked into the closet to change. Michael was quiet for so long that Dean poked his head out from behind the door. Michael's cheeks were red even as the rest of his face had drained of color. Dean realized with horror he had said he. He hadn't exactly meant to confront his best friend about his sexuality in this specific conversation.

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry, I didn't..." Dean started.

"No, you're uh, you're all good," Michael said, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. "No need to apologize." Michael picked up his sports bag from the floor and looked like he was about to book it out of the room.

"So I was right?" Dean asked. Michael's back stiffened and he turned around, blue-gray eyes filled with tears. Dean cursed himself. The last thing he wanted was to make his best friend cry. "I'm sorry." Dean exited the closet, despite the fact that he was only wearing boxers to give Michael a hug.