Hey, you're that guy

Mike wasn't going to let the whole casual 'dream boy' comment go, was he. Of course not. Damon groaned and regretted his life choices. He was straightforward by nature, and within that, way too fucking gay.

Mike looked determined over something all the sudden, but then it was watered down again, and the nightmare just inwardly shrugged. He wasn't going to ask this time. Nourishment came first! He had a sickly human on his hands, he wasn't going to screw around there. He was fully embracing the caretaker roll.

Which was. Well, natural on his part for other reasons, he guessed, but ones that weren't in his life as much lately. He didn't want to think about it. Being able to have a project of some sort, someone to look after, to talk to, was nice, took his mind off of those things.

Damon beamed at the reaction to the food, proud, pleased, and just a bit flustered, an odd sense of modesty creeping up on him. "It can't be that good, you don't have to flatter me so much. I was just jokin' earlier, but… thank you. I try." After that, other than Mike nearly choking, and Damon almost getting a (far more hypothetical) heart attack in reaction, things continued to feel good.

He snorted at the next line of thought. "Damn, Mike, tell us how you really feel," he replied, lazy sarcasm in his voice. He took a bite of his own burger, and shoved a glass of orange juice across the little kitchen table. "Out of all the local jackasses, I'd put myself very highly on the list. Quality jackassery, got it? Don't underestimate me. Juice?"

"We don't have to get mushy," Damon hummed. "but let's totally get mushy, 'cause, well. I'm glad you're back on your feet. It's only noon, and I'm still worried about you, though, so I hope that's not a 'time to leave' speech you're giving."

He paused. Blinked. "Oh… I'm sure you have a lot to do." A bigger life, or something, even if they were both having a shitty time. "I wouldn't try to keep you from that, or anything, that wasn't what I… just, your presence is perfectly welcome, okay?"

Oh, shit. He'd said something wrong. What was it? Too mushy maybe, was he gross? Damon cringed, and barely managed not to throw more apologies. That didn't help, after a point, he knew that. Or, at least, he was supposed to know. But sometimes, he didn't know what else to do. Sometimes being most times, as of late. If you say them too much, apologies lose their meaning, but what if you've run out of solutions, ways to fix?

Nothing was left. That was the truth of it. And he hated it, so pointless apologies flowed out like the most natural thing in the world. A last resort, an instinct.

Damon listened again, instead, and Mike's situation started to sink in. No wonder he'd found the guy in a dumpster. He tried not to acknowledge a part of him was surprised Mike was still alive, with everything. A lot of people weren't. He was a cop, he knew all too much.

He'd heard about some things. Not about the sister. He never would've considered that happening, not in a million years, not with how they'd been. It didn't fit right in his head, a very ugly idea. It was probably about a hundred times worse for Mike.

Damon mustered a smile. "No, actually, really? Wow, impressive." He meant it. "Police academy took only like, half a year or less? Less for me, I remember, I was ready for field work and uh, 'real life' after all the years having education be the main thing. Not that I didn't like school, it's all fun, just. Was interested in getting to the next stage."

He eyed Mike, and smirked. "Dr. Ashworth. Yeah, that's real nice, doc." He laughed, though, before going on. "Having a whole official title can be weird, and fun. You'll like it for sure. "

Damon nodded slowly at that realization. Was it. That far away? Had it been that long? "Feels like I graduated just yesterday," he mumbled. This was his first proper interaction with Mike, though. Weird. Not just uh. Catcalling from across the courtyard, calling him pretty boy, because wow had he been pretty. Tone was antagonistic, words genuine. And he was still pretty, even more so. Gay.

"Always knew Donny had it in him," Damon said wisely, then blinking. "What? Oh, fucking typical." He rolled his eyes. "I kicked that guy's ass all the damn time, he was always starting shit and then ending up face down in the dirt- woah, I hope he wasn't secretly into that. I mean, y'know, good for him too, I guess? But also, fuck that guy, he was a punk."

Damon cleared his throat, a bit embarrassed he'd slipped back into. Sounding like he did in highschool. "Yep. Good for him."

"Wouldn't you like to know," the nightmare, and comfortable dirty cop, replied. His goofy grin was back, though his eyes were darker for a moment. "Nah, I'm kidding, it's good. I love my job, and my job loves me, even if my coworkers don't. Their loss."

Damon sat very stiffly, heart sinking all at once. "Jesus fucking christ," he said, but with a softness that didn't match the harsh words.

"What happened to us? I always thought you had everything set, and while I didn't, I thought I could earn it. Push towards the perfect. Marry my girlfriend right out of highschool, get the cool job- be an upstanding member of society, because things were starting to get serious. I didn't even realize what that meant until this year, 'cause of my daughter bein' born. My wife- ex wife, I mean- she um. Realized things were real at the same time I did, I think, after seein' Lucette's cute little face." Big blinks. "She realized serious couldn't include a guy like me."

"Divorce is all done. So is custody. I don't have any, and I didn't even fight, 'cause I know it's better like that. I know it's better, but I still missed her first christmas."

"Sorry. I'm rambling. A lot." Damon clawed a bit at the palm of his hand. "I don't know why, fuck, I'm so sorry. This is awful. Why are things like this? I can't believe it took me twenty years to figure out this wasn't just a game, playing human. I'm such a loser. Are you okay? Of course not, I don't know why I'm asking such stupid shit."

Although a bit wobbly for a shameful moment, Damon stood up, going around to Mike's side of the table. He stood over the other, hands together and fidgety. He didn't want to go over boundaries, do anything that would seen as pushing it or further ruining the good thing they'd had, but he didn't want to just. Leave this alone, either. He couldn't. He reached out, fingers brushing lightly against the other's arm, careful. Breathed in quietly.

He scooted away plates with his other hand, and leaned against the table, hovering very close without initiating any further touch than what he already had. Even though he wanted to. He was close enough to feel as though there was static between them. Asking if Mike wanted a hug seemed ridiculous and awkward, even though Damon would give it. He made eye contact, was open in his expression, trying to show how sympathetic he really was. Tried not to think about kissing this man.

Ugh, they were fucking sad, and Damon really wanted to kiss him. Needy, desperate feelings just wouldn't leave him alone.

It was what he expected it to be, and they were both far too similar. It was a relief, as well as overwhelming, raw. They'd already been pushed at so much, keeping it all in- having it finally spill out all at once was stressful to no end, demanding to be expressed, but also exhausting.

Damon was clinging to Mike like it was all he had, and really, it was. He didn't mind the tears, not if Mike didn't mind how tightly he was holding, the way he pressed against him so fully, the need for intimacy. It was just a kiss, an embrace, grabbing at each other without even getting sexual with it, but somehow endlessly more personal and shaky. Damon slept with people all the time, tried to use it to distract. That was all lust, and this… was something else. How much he felt like he needed it made it far worse.

There were too many things to say and do, but this took the breath out of him, took away the energy needed to continue being upset to a panicky level. When they pulled back, aside from being disappointed that he had to stop touching Mike, his mind wasn't exactly settled, but it was slower and his body felt tired. Which was good. His chest rose and fell gently while he tried to catch up on the whole breathing thing.

"I don't know what to do here," the nightmare admitted. "Our shit can't be fixed overnight, because wow, fuck. But I'm kind of. Do you want to go take a nap? Pass out at noon for a while due to stress, not attempt to either talk it out or pretend it's fine anymore? 'Cause that's the only thing I'm feeling is left as an option, and I'd like to give you like, ten blankets to curl up in."

He reached out and held onto Mike's sleeve, not pulling, just holding, no pressure in it. "It doesn't have to be like what just happened, but we can keep. Touching. If you want. I'm trying to casually suggest cuddling without outright saying it, but it just sounds weirder and less innocent so fine. Fine. Cuddling is what I mean."

Damon thought Mike was adorable with his attempts at still acting like he was above this. He didn't have to be. The nightmare wasn't going to tell anyone, and they'd just had a whole other level of weird moment, so trying to cover anything up after that seemed pretty pointless. He didn't doubt their ability to dig the hole deeper, but at the same time, it seemed like the only real way to go was up.

Mike begrudgingly seemed to decide to agree to it, so Damon shrugged and led him along, yawning as they trailed through the hallway. "Whatever, man. It's still the holidays, so I'm indulging myself with terrible sinful things like naps and snugs. Judge me if you will, but no regrets."

While the other man settled down on his bed, Damon first went over the closet to dig out the necessary items. He threw several of the largest, most poofy and cushy blankets he had over the other in one motion, then determinedly wiggled under.

This was pretty damn childish. Nice, soft, and warm too, so who cares? Giggles bubbled in Damon's throat despite all the pathetic stuff. He gave Mike a smooch on the nose, nuzzled him, and tangled their limbs together. He really liked this guy.