Michael was looking somewhat like a drenched rat standing outside of his own house and Aaron was about to make a James Bond-esque escape away from a potentially awkward situation until he heard the voice call him.
“You don’t have to avoid me, you know. It’s not like I can’t keep my hands off of you, or that you’re even practically the Robin to my Batman, really. Because I’m totally managing without you. Really. The fact that I’m locked out of my house is neither here nor there. So just shut it.” Michael’s head was still facing towards his house, almost mournfully, Aaron thought to himself before remembering that he’d thought that Spock and Kirk were totally having it on and he’d obviously been mistaken about that because his dad watched that show and the idea of his father having fantasies about Leonard Nimoy made him want to scrub his skin with acid. Or something like that. Pouring burning wax into his eyeballs would have sufficed.
“I wasn’t avoiding you.” Aaron attempted to make an outright lie before remembering that Michael was kind of Vulcan-y in the aspect that he always seemed to know what Aaron was thinking. Which would certainly explain the snort given from the other boy that seemed to twist uncomfortably at his gut. Who was he kidding? The whole situation was uncomfortable, and that wasn’t even mentioning how Elinor was standing in the front bedroom staring out of the window at him and- Wait, was she giving him the finger? “Why’s Elinor looking at us through the window like we’ve gone on a mass puppy-killing spree?”
Michael seemed to pause for a minute before turning to face Aaron like they were re-enacting that scene from The Notebook that girls always seemed to love. “Because she seems to think-“ He stopped dramatically and heaved a sigh. Aaron resisted the urge to punch him in the stomach to see if he’d stop looking so damn tortured then. “She seems to think I’m in love with you.”
Aaron kinda wished he hadn’t finished the sentence, since it had him choking on nothing.
“And-“ He decided to use the dramatic pauses to his advantage, messing his hair up with a free hand before continuing. “And are you?”
“No!” Michael’s eyes kind of resembled an owl’s, or Hiro Nakamura’s when he was just about to get the shit kicked out of him. Before he transformed into Hiro 2.0 and learnt how to kick ass, that was. Michael really wasn’t cool enough to rival the badassness of Hiro Nakamura 2.0 and his Bad-Ass Big Sword.
