how the mighty fall to the bottom

“it’s okay, really,” he said with a soft chuckle. he bit back a smile when judah mentioned being clumsy for no reason. could it be there might be one? “the rest of the night, that works out perfectly, because you’ll get to really let it marinate, let the feeling fully sink in,” he laughed softly. he couldn’t help but tease him, but, really, michael didn’t feel there was anything to be embarrassed of. “hey, i wasn’t doing anything,” he said, putting his hands up defensively. “but anyway, when does your associate come in?” michael asked, looking at his watch. “cause i’ve got time to distract you a bit more. over a drink, maybe? dinner?”

michael chuckled. “oh, yeah, mind numbingly so,” he teased in a sarcastic tone. “yeah, i have. i had a date, made this nice dish i found on your channel. she was allergic to something in it, and we spent the night in the er, so thank you for that one,” he laughed. “i’ve tried a lot of your recipes, actually. never been disappointed—everything is five stars,” he assured the younger male, offering him a smile. “i would watch it. you’ve got a really nice voice. i can’t speak for others but i know i’d have that shit on repeat.” he wasn’t much for weird asmr videos, but dylan had a tone and rhythm of voice that was really soothing to the man. “my name’s michael, by the way,” he stretched out his hand to him. “and if you ever want someone to cook for you instead of having to do the cooking, you’re more than welcome to come to my bistro. brigitte bistro down on madison street.”

“i don’t know what to tell you, man, i didn’t get a last time. barely got a first name. but now you can play a fun little game whenever you bump into someone in your list of ryans. you can wonder if they’re the ones with the fucking nosferatu neck fixation,” he chuckled. “if you do end up finding him, i’ll buy you a drink,” he chuckled. “yeah. kinda went at it like he’d been in solitary confinement for the past twelve years. sorry. tmi. then again, this thing kinda tells the fuckin’ story for me,” he chuckled. “you’re better stocked than a fuckin’ sephora. she won’t mind if you use some?”

“hi. good, i’m glad,” he said with his crooked little smile. he was stumbling over his words and just embarrassing himself, and he wished the earth would just swallow him whole right now. “i’m a little tongue tied today, sorry,” he could feel his face heating up. “i’ll refill your glass right up,” he winked and went off with her glass, shaking his head at himself for being so damn awkward. he came back with her drink, making sure it was perfectly decorated and had just thee right amount of ice. because good service is important, or something. specially when your customer’s uber beautiful. “here you go.”

@mochareblogs​

he smiled softly when anastasia said he wasn’t hurting the flowers, and that they’d make them feel better. he watched as she reearranged the way they’d been separated and explained he hadn’t matched them correctly. he did as she said, fetching the roses she had asked for. “i just don’t really have an eye for the aesthetics.”

“sounds like a plan. i do need a good sweat,” he said. “mm, well, gordon ramsey is quaking,” he said and laughed softly. he listened to mat talk, not sure where it all had come from, but appreciative of him sharing nonetheless. and he always liked hearing family stories, specially because he didn’t have many good ones of his own to share. “well, i’m glad you’ve pulled yourself out of that rut. it’s good to enjoy things, i’m sure she’d appreciate you finding joy in food if that was something she liked,” he said with a soft smile. “oh, you’re fine. don’t worry about it, i don’t mind,” michael assured him. “i love potatoes too much not to try to put them on everything.”

“i’m a jackass, i’m sorry,” he said, looking down at her shirt. the fact that it was white was just the cherry on top of the cake. “i’m fine, i’ve just left my wallet on the counter, and i’d barely stepped foot outside—wasn’t really expecting to bump into anyone.”

"really doesn’t matter as long as they’re edible,” he replied. at this point... he couldn’t exactly get picky. and either way, it was lyric, so it was bound to be good no matter the flavor. “i’m really sorry. it just completely escaped my mind until the very last second. what else is new. you’re really saving my life here, i totally owe you. i mean, i’ll pay for these, obviously, but i’ll still owe you.”

“yes... i can see that now,” he chuckled. he put the shirt he was holding back on the rack. he’d given up on finding the right size on the one shirt he liked after browsing for what felt like hours. “oh, i love morrison’s!” he said with a smile. he figured that might not be where he knew him from, though, and he definitely confirmed that when he brought up the youtube channel. “yes!” he’d had that on the tip of his tongue. that was definitely why he looked familiar. “i have your videos on a playlist, i always watch that to fall asleep. i mean- not that you’re boring or anything, i just, watching people cook relaxes me.” something about not being the one fucking cooking for once, perhaps. “and you’ve got this very... asmr vibe to you.”

michael leaned in closer to the flowers. “hi,” he said, and although his voice was kind of deep, he spoke softly. “you’re pretty.” he chuckled softly. hey, maybe he’d try it. not like he had anyone else to talk to at home, anyway, right? he’d play them some music too. michael was smiling from ear to ear when he saw him write down his phone number on the note. he’d find a cute surprise in there, too, when he got home and saw a message from the flowers as well. all seemed to be going smoothly up until the young man bumped his head. there was a moment of hesitation, but he decided to go over to the other side of the counter and check on him. “woah, woah, woah, you okay?” he asked. “you should sit down.” the space behind the counter was tiny and crowded now with the two of them, so there wasn’t much space between the two. “sorry. i’ll just go back over there.” he took a step back before returning to his original spot. “are you sure you’re alright?”

“it’s been a minute since i’ve been to vegas. but i do remember having fun there—from what little of that trip i remember anyway,” he chuckled. he’d definitely been wasted practically the whole time, so it was all a little hazy. “chicago’s great, though. i feel like there’s everything you could possibly need out here, y’know?” he said. “oh, for sure. i’m pretty sure that’s the sugar intake of a few days worth, at least. can’t be healthy at all. and i guess i’m more of a tea guy. infusions. that sort of thing?”

michael snorted at noel’s reply. “he might’ve. you never know with babies these days,” he replied. michael was definitely the kind of person to get roped into things like helping friends move, picking them up from the airport, and all sorts of shit. he always figured he would like to get that same treatment should he ever need anything, right? “uh. i don’t know. you might? his name’s ryan. he’s a singer or has a band or something. he’s full of tattoos and apparently has a thing for leaving hickeys behind, if you could even call this abomination a hickey,” he said. “um. i guess i’ll try makeup. but i might end up making this mess ten times worse.”

michael was making a quick coffee run before getting his day started running errands. he was already a little late, stepping out of mocha with an iced coffee in hand. he then remembered leaving his wallet at the counter. “oh, shit,” he quickly turned back around, bumping pretty hard into someone who was leaving the establishment. “oh, fuck. shit, i’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“hey, excuse me,” michael said and approached the woman standing a few feet from him. “were you in that... play?” he asked. he couldn’t remember the name for the life of him. he’d seen it a while back, so it was fuzzy, but he remembered loving it. “just wanted to say you were really really good in that. and if that wasn’t you, well, you look like someone who’s very talented.” 

“would you believe me if i said... i got punched in the neck by a baby?” stef raised a brow. yeah, this hickey was... bad. no way he could walk around the bistro looking like he got into a fight with a vacuum cleaner and lost. “i mean, at least i had fun, right?” he wiggled his brows playfully, then shook his head. “seriously, though, how do i hide this? do not say turtleneck sweater.”

“okay, so i volunteered to bring cupcakes to this event, right? like, a hundred cupcakes. no big deal, i can bake,” michael shrugged. “except, um, i totally forgot about it until just now, and i need them,” he looked at his watch. “now, pretty much. “seriously, if you could help, it would mean a lot to me. if not, well, it’s alright. no hard feelings. you’ll just have to deal with the guilt, i guess,” he teased, a charming, crooked smile appearing across his lips.