misa’s easy. misa’s down. misa’s not difficult. you ask him to come somewhere and he comes. you ask if he minds grabbing you a drink or giving you a ride or going to some event he absolutely does not care about and he’s like “yeah sure” because it’s the easiest thing to say. and the fact that he says “yeah sure” to whatever is one of the things people like most about him.
sam doesn’t get it, because there are way more interesting things about mike than how agreeable is. but he also does get it, thinks about how it could be... fun in other situations. okay, sam just maybe doesn’t really care. he doesn’t mind actually, that mike doesn’t make every single thing into a whole production. after spending his whole life around hockey guys who have their heads up their own asses, it’s kinda nice. except then he starts noticing that mike doesn’t just go with the flow. he goes with it like he has no bones. like if someone else creates enough momentum, he’ll just get carried along by it and disappear.
it gets pretty bad. toff asks him to come to home depot after practice, needs to get some shit for the dog run he’s building, and mike says yeah even though he’s standing there with wet hair and that dead-eyed expression he gets when he wants to be horizontal for the next eight hours. delly asks him to come to the pga superstore and sit around while he gets his clubs regripped and mike says okay even though it’s so nice out and he really wants to hit the links. someone from the social media team asks if he can “just stop by for a bit” and mike is like i guess so even though sam can tell from across the room that he would rather eat glass. every other guy asks him to do a favour that is not technically huge but is definitely annoying and mike says sure before he’s even thought about whether he can.
sam doesn’t get that, because it’s not like mike is a pushover. on the ice, he’ll skate through 195cm tall dmen like it’s nothing. he’ll take a hit and come up skating harder. but off the ice, if someone hands him a next step, he takes it, and that’s insane to sam, who says no to stuff all the time. poorly, usually. rudely, definitely. but still. no is a thing sam can just say and then the world keeps spinning. sometimes people get mad, and then sam gets to be not doing the thing and they get to be mad. pretty simple.
mike doesn’t seem to know that the same is true for himself, or he knows it in theory but not in practice. like if you asked him can you say no to stuff? he’d get all offended and be like obviously. but then someone actually asks him for something and he immediately starts building a little prison out of yeah, maybe, for sure, it’s fine, whatever.
so sam starts getting involved.
not in a soft way. not in a “hey man, you should advocate for yourself” way. it’s more like mike will be sitting there staring at his phone, thumb hovering over some text where someone has asked him to do something he very clearly doesn’t want to do, and sam will look over and go, “say no.”
mike rolls his eyes and says “it’s not a big deal.”
“if it’s not a big deal then say no.”
and the first few times mike is terrible at it. genuinely brutal. he’ll write like so sorry i don’t think i can make it. maybe tomorrow?, and sam is like, “what are you apologizing for?” and mike gets pissed and goes, “i’m being super normal,” but it works, is the thing. eventually. baby steps.
sam makes him delete the sorry. makes him take out the possibility of another time. makes him stop giving a fake reason when the real reason is he doesn’t want to. mike sits there acting like sam is waterboarding him, but he does it. types no, can’t tonight. sends it. then immediately throws his phone facedown on the couch like it’s going to explode.
and sam’s like, “see? easy.”
mike says, “i hated that.”
“yeah, but you’re not going.”
and mike doesn’t have a comeback for that, which is how sam knows he won.
the hookup thing is where sam gets actually weird about it. actually gets mad, and it’s not because he’s jealous. he’s just looking out for his friend. his dumb little friend who could get blown over by the wind. just looking out. promise.
because it’s one thing when toff’s asking mike to do some bs chore he could definitely pay another person to do, or his agent is asking him to come to dinner with some wack ass brand. arby’s or something. it’s another thing when this girl mike’s hooked up with maybe twice before is texting him like come overrrr, and mike’s sitting there looking at his phone with that blank, delayed expression. sam knows that look now. unfortunately. humiliatingly. against his will, he has become fluent all the different faces mike makes.
so he goes, “do you wanna?”
mike shrugs. “she’s nice.”
sam just stares at him, because what the fuck does that have to do with anything. lots of people are nice. the guy at chipotle is nice. that doesn’t mean mike has to go let him put his tongue in his mouth because he asked politely.
“do you want to go?” sam says again, slower this time, because apparently they’re doing a remedial lesson in growing a backbone.
mike deflates, finally gives in, says “whatever. no, i wanna play cod with you and reavo.”
and sam is like, “then don’t go.”
so mike does. badly. he types like four different versions of no and deletes them all and gets increasingly furious, and sam sits there beside him on the couch feeling completely insane because this should not be doing anything for him. it’s literally just mike learning how to send a text. it’s not hot. except it is, because mike is mad and embarrassed and listening so well, and sam is sitting there telling him what to do and mike keeps doing it.
finally mike sends no, not tonight.
then, because he is apparently trying to punish sam for being so kind, he looks up, puppy eyes, forcing a scowl, and goes, “happy?”
and sam has to take a second.
because yes. obviously yes. offensively yes. mike said no to something he didn’t want, and he did it because sam told him to, and now he’s sitting there all flushed and cranky with his thigh pressed into sam’s. and sam is proud of him, maybe. or something adjacent to proud that is worse and lower in his body.
“yeah,” sam says. “happy.”
mike tells him to shut up, but he doesn’t sound mad enough. 'cause, haha, sam likes when there's a little fight in 'em.
ths is probably where the whole thing should end, lesson learned, whatever, except sam makes one huge, fatal mistake, which is thinking this is a skill mike will only use on other people.
because once mike figures out no is a thing he can say, once he realizes the world does not actually split open and swallow him if he disappoints someone, he starts getting a little too good at it. comfortable. dangerously self-satisfied for a guy who needed sam to bully him through a two-word text a week ago.
sam will be like, “arms up,” fingers curled in the hem of mike’s pullover, and mike will look at him and go, “no.”
that stops sam in his tracks because. sorry?
mike is standing there with his chin tipped up a little, eyes all glassy, brat mode, smirking like he has discovered a new button and is about to press again and again and again. still wearing the hoodie, cheeks all ruddy, sweat dampening his hairline, still clearly too warm, still very much needing sam to get it off him, except now he knows he does not have to be easy about it. just for fun!
mike says, bites his bottom lip. (is that a move?) “you told me to say no.”
this is technically sam’s fault. he gets that. he wanted mike to stop going along with things he didn’t wanna do. he wanted him to have a spine. he wanted him to mean it when he said yes, which unfortunately means he also has to deal with mike meaning it when he says no.
except mike is not moving away.
that’s the thing. he says no and then just stands there. waiting. mouth doing this barely-there smug thing. letting sam look at him. letting sam figure out whether no means no, or whether no means make me, or whether mike has become the most annoying person alive because sam personally taught him how.
and sam, who has no one to blame but himself, is standing there wondering if this is better or much, much worse.
