[For Michael]Just like old times.

[queer_as_brian]

Michael's room was empty when Brian barged in without announcing himself, so he looked around, fucked with the french guy's stuff a little, then draped himself across Mikey's bed, one arm propped behind his head and one knee bent, watching the door and waiting for Mikey to return. No matter how long it took, he'd just wait. And if the other one

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[always_zephyr]

Michael wasn't paying attention to the fact if anyone was in his room when he walked in, too wrapped up in trying not to drop the pile of clothes he was carrying. Some were his and some were Enjorlas' and he walked over and dumped the pile on Enjolras' bed so he could sort it.

When he turned around to put some of his clothes on his bed, he started when he saw it was occupied. He sat down hard on Enjolras' bed, blinking in surprise. "Brian? What are you doing here?" Before it had been a common sight, but not in the last few months.

[queer_as_brian]

"Laundry? How domestic of you, Mikey," Brian drawled, not moving to sit up just yet. "I'm waiting for you. Let's go smoke." He produced a joint from somewhere, waggling it in the air in Michael's direction. "Maybe then we won't care that we're freezing our nuts off," he added with a low chuckle.

[always_zephyr]

Micheal was still just kind of staring at him, his brain not quite catching up that Brian was in his room and acting like nothing had happened between them. "We haven't talked in months and now your waiting for me so we can go smoke a joint?" He wondered if the island was up to one of its tricks again...

[queer_as_brian]

Brian made a face and sat up. "Christ, you're not still pouting about that, are you? Come smoke with me." His posture was relaxed, but something in his eyes was almost wild, like it had been after his father died. Brian was adrift, lost, and he needed his anchor. Just as it had always been.