¹¹¹VoidIsMyState¹¹¹

You knew you'd regret giving him a key to your apartment eventually.

"Y/N! Y/N I found-"

His excited voice ended with the thudding of a stack of newly bought comic books to the floor. Michael stood frozen in the doorway of your bathroom, wide eyes focused on your pathetic, quivering form curled up next to the toilet.

"Oh. I- I didn't know you were coming." You tried your best to hide the tremor in your voice. You didn't want Michael to see you like this, ever. Ever since you two had met you had been the stronger one, the one Michael looked up to, the one he always went to with his problems. It wasn't meant to be the other way round. "What'd you buy?"

Michael ignored your attempt to change the subject, kneeling down next to you like you were a wounded animal. "Y/N… What happened? Are you sick?"

His hand rubbed your back. It only made you feel worse. It wasn't his fault, of course, but he was the reason for this panic attack. And your countless other ones. You were stupid. You had went ahead and fallen in love with your straight best friend. And it wouldn't go away. It was only growing stronger and stronger, it was Michael after all. He was infuriatingly perfect. Except for the fact that you'd never have a chance.

You were about to do something stupid and impulsive. But you told yourself it was the only way. Rip off the bandaid before this spirals into a heartbreak you'll never recover from.

"I can't be friends with you anymore Michael."

He flinched back. Hurt flashed in his eyes, lips slightly parting in shock. "What- What did I do? I'm sorry if-"

"It's not your fault." You choked out. "I'm- I love you."

Michael froze once again. He knew you were gay, but… Him? He briefly wondered if this was some weird prank.

The silence stretched on.

He had walked in on you almost throwing up from anxiety on your bathroom floor. Probably not a prank.

"Okay. Wow." He let out a nervous chuckle. Not at you. Just at this entire situation. There were a million thoughts racing in his head, none that he could manage to get into words.

Another silence.

"I- I didn't know." He said softly. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

"That was the point, Sherlock."

His brows furrowed in genuine confusion. "Why? Why didn't you tell me?"

You let out a sound that was a mix between an exasperated laugh and a sob.

"Why would I, Mike? I know I have no chance. All your songs are about girls. You love women. You flirt with every one you meet, for God's sake. And you've said it plainly in every interview that's ever asked, you're straight. I'd just be a fool." The words stumbled out of you, your tears starting up again. This was so pathetic. But now that you started you couldn't stop.

Michael firmly gripped your shoulders, turning you to him. "Y/N! They're just songs! Stories! I- Those metal bands you listen to, its just like that!"

"Not a good comparison Mike."

That got an uncontrolled chuckle out of him. Even in this state, you still found ways to tease him. "Okay. You're right. Not exactly like that. But, you get my point, don't you?"

You sighed, glancing away from him. "Okay. You don't mean your songs. Where are you going with this?"

"I-" Michael breathed out nervously, rubbing his face. "I'm getting there."

You softened slightly. You had put him on the spot after all. "Sorry." You mumbled.

"Y/N." He took your limp hands into his. "Y/N. Look at me. I've only dated one girl. And that was before you." He said quietly. Shy.

You blinked. "Two whole years. You haven't been with anyone. At all." You repeated his words, incredulous. He nodded quickly.

"My entire life I was lonely, Y/N. Until you. You just- when you came into my life, it was like you swept all my problems away. Like some sort of Prince charming."

That got a flustered huff out of you. Which in turn made Michael grin. In private, he had always teased you with that nickname. It had seemed like a stupid joke to you.

"I'm serious, Y/N." His voice went softer, deeper.

His hands, still holding yours, started trembling slightly.

"I wasn't… I wasn't ever gonna say anything. Cause I thought I wouldn't have a chance with you. But…"

You took a sharp breath in, interrupting him. "Mike. Even if.. Even if you do like me for some reason, you're the most famous man in the world. You could have any girl you want. You can't risk everything for me." You sniffled.

Michael's grip on your hands tightened. He couldn't help but tear up as well. To him, you had always seemed so confident and care free. But he had been completely blind. Let your secret insecurity fester. And now he had no idea how to handle it.

"You dimwit... I'd give up everything for you! You're the only good thing in my life!" His voice cracked, desperate. Almost desperate enough for you to believe.

He instantly read your expression.

"You don't believe me." He murmured, dejected.

"Sorry Mike. You mean so much to me, t-that.. I wouldn't be able to handle you breaking my heart. I'm scared." You barely managed to get your words out in a whisper.

"Give me a chance." He pleaded.

You stayed quiet, gaze averted.

Michael ran a hand through his hair.

You expected him to get up and leave. Instead, he pressed a soft, hesitant kiss to your forehead.

"I'll make you see how serious I am, okay? I won't give up on you. Not now that I know you love me back. I promise. I'll make a whole album if I have to, maybe get 'I LOVE Y/N!!' tattooed on-"

"Do not." You groaned. Michael giggled.