Using your spare key, you unlock your best friend Michael's front door and walk inside his apartment. It's silent inside. He isn't eating in the kitchen, like he usually is when you come over, and he isn't even lying lazily on the couch. You check your phone, which reads 10:08 across the screen. He can't be out already, you think.
Wondering where he is, you knock lightly on his bedroom door.
"Mike?" you call delicately.
"I think I'm dying," he responds weakly. You roll your eyes, despite him not being able to see, and push the door open.
As soon as you take a step in, he starts having a coughing fit and you drop your bag and rush to his side.
"Hey, (Y/N)," he says in between coughs, and you smirk.
"Do you want anything to eat? Should I make you something?"
"I can't eat, I'll throw up. I already did last night."
Your eyes open in disbelief. "What? And you didn't call me?"
"It was 4am, (Y/N), I couldn't wake you," he croaks.
You roll your eyes again, even though he was only being thoughtful. "I would've come over."
"I didn't want to make you," he insists.
"Well aren't you just such a gentleman?" you joke, and he chuckles, trying to hold back his coughs.
"Let me just stay and help, okay? I don't have to go to work until noon today, and I can ask (Y/Best Friend's/N) to cover my shift... again," you reason, and he sighs.
"You sure?"
"Positive. We can chill and watch some Netflix or something."
Mikey raises a single eyebrow and smirks. "Not like that, you perv!" you laugh, and lightly slap his arm. "Okay, well, I'm gonna get you some ginger ale and change out of these clothes." You motion to your blouse, jeans, and boots you were planning to wear to run errands.
"Sounds good. Meanwhile I'm going to sit here and cough up my left lung, okay?" Michael jokes, and you smile and shake your head.
You head into his walk-in closet, pulling a pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt out of an unfolded basket of clean laundry that you did for him yesterday.
He's such a slob, you smile to yourself, then proceed to change and walk to the kitchen. As you pass Michael's bed again, he calls, "Wait, no strip tease? I was looking forward to that!"
You give a sharp "Ha!" and say "In your dreams!" while walking into the kitchen and pulling out your phone to call your best friend.
Holding the phone in one hand and rummaging through the refrigerator with the other, you hear the other line click and a tired, "Hello?"
"Hey, (Y/BF/N)! Did I wake you?"
"Uh, yeah actually, but I should've been awake earlier anyway. What's going on?"
"Well, uh..." you start, making an awkward face, even though she can't see it.
"Michael?"
"Yep."
"I told you to stop with him!" she sighs.
"(Y/BF/N), we haven't done anything!" you defend.
"But you want to, right?"
"I mean... yeah. I do," you reply, turning around tin drink cans in the top shelf to find a ginger ale.
