Michael was listening to all of this with wide eyes. It didn't feel like new information anymore. It was like a missing puzzle piece that made sense of everything, something that was always there that he couldn't, or wouldn't, understand. But there was something else here that he wasn't getting, and it irritated him to no end. It wasn't something that came from Damon though. It was from himself.
And that made it worse. At least Damon could identify his own feelings. Mike was smart and charming, so it never really made sense to people when he told them that he didn't understand so many things that were obvious to them. Complicated feelings. Sentiment. Love. They felt so foreign, intense, too much at once. His heart was in overdrive. He wanted to turn everything off so he wouldn't burn out.
"That was like the first day we met!" Michael snapped back, voice trembling. Suddenly celebrating ten years wasn't so appropriate anymore. Ten years, Mike. He's been in love with your toxic ass self for ten years. God, that was a sick thought. He wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy. He wanted to throw up. No more of this.
He remembered that time in his apartment, when he got so choked up that Damon offered to cuddle, and he was looking at all of it now with this information. It warmed him. It made the memory... softer.
He felt that strongly, despite it all. Affection. Warmth. Elation. His heart was doing somersaults, it was nuts. Over this? Over love? Was that how it was supposed to go? He loved this, didn't he? He... loved him. He was in love. He was in love! Oh my fucking shit. He was in love? He wanted to be disgusted, but there was nothing about this nightmare man that he was disgusted about. Nothing at all.
The conflicting feelings mixed with the good again, but this time, he was regretting all this time. Ten years of being in love, wasted on friendship???? Pining???? Pain???? Damon didn't deserve that. This needed to end.
"You should've told me..." he started, cheeks flushed, still processing but with a newfound certainty. "You should've told me! Damon! We're thirty years old! Oh my god, I'm growing gray hair, and you tell me this now? I can't believe this!"
He didn't know a lot of things, when it came to this, and heaven forgive him but he did know he didn't want to spend their twentieth friendversary in ten years. It wanted something deserved and meaningful.
"We wasted so much time together being friends when we could've been married already! I could've entered my thirties settled down instead of being a partying douchebag! I'm so old now!" He went over to him and held him, kissing him all over his face, not passionate but... grateful and apologetic. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm such a douche, but marry me? Like, hopefully before my hair grays? Who even has time to date in our age, anyway?"
And that made it worse. At least Damon could identify his own feelings. Mike was smart and charming, so it never really made sense to people when he told them that he didn't understand so many things that were obvious to them. Complicated feelings. Sentiment. Love. They felt so foreign, intense, too much at once. His heart was in overdrive. He wanted to turn everything off so he wouldn't burn out.
"That was like the first day we met!" Michael snapped back, voice trembling. Suddenly celebrating ten years wasn't so appropriate anymore. Ten years, Mike. He's been in love with your toxic ass self for ten years. God, that was a sick thought. He wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy. He wanted to throw up. No more of this.
He remembered that time in his apartment, when he got so choked up that Damon offered to cuddle, and he was looking at all of it now with this information. It warmed him. It made the memory... softer.
He felt that strongly, despite it all. Affection. Warmth. Elation. His heart was doing somersaults, it was nuts. Over this? Over love? Was that how it was supposed to go? He loved this, didn't he? He... loved him. He was in love. He was in love! Oh my fucking shit. He was in love? He wanted to be disgusted, but there was nothing about this nightmare man that he was disgusted about. Nothing at all.
The conflicting feelings mixed with the good again, but this time, he was regretting all this time. Ten years of being in love, wasted on friendship???? Pining???? Pain???? Damon didn't deserve that. This needed to end.
"You should've told me..." he started, cheeks flushed, still processing but with a newfound certainty. "You should've told me! Damon! We're thirty years old! Oh my god, I'm growing gray hair, and you tell me this now? I can't believe this!"
He didn't know a lot of things, when it came to this, and heaven forgive him but he did know he didn't want to spend their twentieth friendversary in ten years. It wanted something deserved and meaningful.
"We wasted so much time together being friends when we could've been married already! I could've entered my thirties settled down instead of being a partying douchebag! I'm so old now!" He went over to him and held him, kissing him all over his face, not passionate but... grateful and apologetic. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm such a douche, but marry me? Like, hopefully before my hair grays? Who even has time to date in our age, anyway?"