Work Text:
They're out for a late dinner when it happens. Not anywhere fancy, just the sandwich shop a fifteen minute walk away from Colin's house that had sounded like a better idea while still laying around in the air conditioning.
Just as the waiter sets their baskets down in front of them, the overhead lights flicker and go black. Positioned around the dining room for maximum coverage, the five fans also die, along with the hum of the machinery in the kitchen.
Michael finds himself frowning and looking at the ceiling as if that would help in any way. He doesn't feel too stupid though, because everyone else in the shop is doing it too. Except for maybe the chef in the back who is just cursing really loudly.
"Enjoy your meal," the waiter tells them distractedly before dashing off. Michael can't blame her.
His sandwich looks delicious, but Michael ignores it in favor of pulling his phone out to do the same thing everyone else is doing now that they've established that looking at the lights will not bring them back on: trying to figure out why it was happening.
Preliminary reports seem to point to someone crashing their car into a power line. "A fourth of Richmond is without power." Michael says. "Look at this."
He turns his phone so that Colin can see the map of the affected area. "That's a lot. Imagine being on the tube right now, it'd be terrifying."
"Yeah."
"Where'd you even find this? The city's social media didn't have anything I could find." Colin taps at the screen, trying to get out of the map and Michael quickly pulls it back.
"I'm just that good. Hurry up and eat your food, it's going to get really hot in here soon." The heavy heat from outside is already creeping in.
"It's not like it'll be any better at home." Colin reminds him, picking up a sauce packet and ripping the top off. "My house is definitely also out, and I think everyone I know lives in the dead zone too. Even the stadium would be black. The only option would to to find a pub that still has power and all of those will be packed. Face it, the heat is unavoidable."
He punctuates the final word by squeezing the packet, which expels sauce all over Colin's white shirt. "Shit!"
Michael can't help but laugh as he passes Colin a handful of napkins. "I told you white was a bad idea."
"Yeah, yeah." The napkins do basically nothing so Colin spends the rest of dinner with a large brown stain slowly drying. "Man, this is designer."
A very large part of Michael still can't believe he's dating someone who wears designer white t-shirts with ugly designs on them. That part of him had balked at even hooking up with Colin the first time. Michael was overall glad he'd ignored it, but still. Sometimes he felt like pinching himself.
Under the expensive clothes and sports car he had no business driving, Colin was sweet though, and so fit, and way smarter than he gave himself credit for. He raged against the British monarchy at the drop of a hat. He loved football so, so much that it was infectious. Michael had fallen for him before he even realized it.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"No reason." Michael clears his throat and looks down at his own food, embarrassed to be caught staring. "Come on, your place might not have power but I've got backup generators. We can just go back there for the night."
"Oh, you should have led with that."
Driving is tedious without the streetlights working but there are uniformed police officers at most intersections. Michael drives because another car wreck would not improve the current power situation.
(Colin objects to the joke, as he does with most of Michael's cracks at his driving, but only weakly because they both know it's true.)
They safely make it back to Michael's place in almost twice the time it normally takes. Michael unlocks the door and disarms the security system using the panel next to the front door. The same messages he'd got on his phone earlier flash on the screen. It had taken forty five seconds for his generators to kick on and return power to the house. Not bad.
"I'm gonna run downstairs and make sure nothing got messed up, you can change into one of my shirts if you want." Colin did have some clothes here, a fact that delighted both of them, but he'd probably steal from Michael's closet anyway.
Boyfriend's clothes were just more comfortable than your own, it was a universal law.
"Got it."
They split up. Everything looks fine in the basement, where Michael keeps all his work equipment. Just to be sure he sets the computer to run a full systems check. The half finished and fully abandoned projects scattered on the work tables look to be undisturbed. Satisfied, Michael goes to leave.
As he does, his eyes catch on the pile of candles in one corner. He doesn't even remember what they're from. Only that Rex had been involved somehow and she'd stubbornly refused to take them with her. So here they'd sat for probably a year, just gathering dust.
Unlike a lot of people right now, they had the option of overhead lights. But candles were romantic, right? Especially with champagne and a bubble bath. Michael's tub should be able to fit both of them so long as they didn't mind being close.
He can't imagine Colin not wanting to be close. Michael's boyfriend was one of the clingiest people in the world, when they were in private. They'd almost blown their wingman cover at Sam's restaurant gathering that one time because Colin's hands kept lingering. Not that Michael had been blameless in that department either but he was at least a more skilled liar than Colin.
They would need music, he decides as he heads upstairs with the candles, which he'd packed into a spare box. Mostly classical but Colin whined about any playlist that didn't involve Drake in some capacity. Michael loved him enough for one, maybe two songs. Then he'd draw the line.
In the master bedroom, Michael finds the adjoining bathroom door half open, steam creeping out. Colin seems to have hopped in the shower to wash off the semi permanent layer of sweat that comes with summer. If Michael does the same, they’ll both be clean for their bath. Not that that means they can’t take turns rubbing soap into each other's hair.
"Colin, did you put your shirt in the laundry basket?" Michael calls. "I'll try and get the stain out later on."
No response. Colin probably can't hear anything over the sound of the water. Michael shrugs and sets down the box of candles on the floor then frowns. There's stuff everywhere, mostly his boyfriend's.
It's a sign that Colin feels comfortable enough here to leave things, but it's also sloppy. Michael starts tidying up and placing candles in some spots around the room. Then he gathers most of his loose books (he really needs to just get another shelf or two for downstairs) and places them out of the way. The fire department would have their hands full enough tonight without adding "bookworm sets fire to home while attempting romance" to the list.
Bedroom cleaned and decorated, Michael still has more than enough candles for a nice romantic bath.
But if Michael goes into the bathroom now there's a good chance he'll get distracted and they'll not end up anywhere near the bathtub…
Michael shakes his head, clearing the thought. "Lighter and champagne. Romantic night. Very fit footballer boyfriend… Focus."
The champagne is easy to find. The lighter, not so much. Michael goes through every drawer in the kitchen and dining room and sitting room. He even checks the home office desk. Nothing. Not even some matches.
Just as he's about to run downstairs and grab one, he hears a knock on the door.
People don't knock on Michael's door. That's why he has a gate. Even if it had been left open, there was no reason for anyone to be here. They'd just gotten dinner, Michael wasn't friendly with any of his neighbors, and pretty much everyone who knew his address was from work. They wouldn't knock.
If only I was dating a professional cricket player, Michael reflects as he grabs an umbrella from the stand next to the door. A bat would work better.
Whoever it is, they’re impatient. There is another knock as he prepares to open the door. Clutching his weapon, Michael turns the knob and pulls the door open.
“Isaac?”
“Hey bruv. You expecting a storm?”
“What? No.” Michael tosses the umbrella in the general direction of the stand without looking. Judging by the clatter, he misses. “What, uh what are you doing here?”
Eyebrows knitting together, the captain of AFC Richmond explains. “Colin invited me, innit it. My AC went out at home. Hot as balls in no time and I just bought a bunch of ice cream. He said you’ve got some fancy generators keeping the lights on.”
The explained the several containers cradled in his arms at least. Michael can’t turn a man with melting ice cream away. Especially the best mate of his boyfriend.
“Michael, did you get champagne out for a reason?” Colin asks, wandering into the entryway, still wet and soft from his shower. Michael simultaneously wants to throttle him and drag his fingers through Colin’s damp hair that would soon be as soft and fluffy as a young puppy. “Oh, hey boyo. I didn’t think you’d be here so fast.”
“I was highly motivated.”
There’s no point in hanging out in the doorway, wasting precious air conditioning. Michael lets Isaac in and points him in the direction of the kitchen to put the ice cream away. As soon as Isaac is clear, he rounds in his boyfriend. “Babe, in the future I would appreciate a heads up before you invite your mates over. Please.”
“I’m sorry. We were texting before I got in the shower, and I really did think he’d be at least another thirty minutes. If you mind I could—”
“It’s fine.” Michael interrupts. He knows that if he lets Colin keep talking, he’ll just working himself into an anxious, guilty mess over something that isn’t a big deal. “Really, it’s okay. Just let me…ugh.”
Unable to resist the urge any longer, Michael surges forward and kisses Colin. Thoroughly. Against the wall and everything. The fresh from the shower look combined with the hoodie Michael had picked up on a trip to New York ages ago is too much to resist.
Colin kisses back just as enthusiastically, hands dropping easily to Michael’s waist to draw him closer. Something about Colin makes him feel like a teenager in love again. He could kiss Colin all day long and be perfectly content. But there will be other days to do that. Pulling back, he rests his forehead against Colin’s and whispers, “Shame we can’t all fit in the tub.”
“What?”
Laughing at the confusion on Colin’s face, Michael lets him go. “It’s nothing. Tell Isaac to make himself at home, I’m going to jump in the shower.”
___
After a very quick and very cold rinse off, Michael pulls on something comfortable but more modest than he would normally lounge around the house in. It’s more than he’d expected to be wearing tonight. Quit thinking about it.
He tosses his street clothes into the basket and leaves the bedroom swifty, plodding downstairs. Colin and Isaac are in the sitting room. Like most people when they first visit Michael’s house, Isaac is examining the decor.
Any of the walls not covered in shelves have art, or lines from his favorite poems done in calligraphy and then hung. The shelves not home to books hold trinkets from his travels. Colorful rocks, glass figurines, a ship in a bottle. Michael was a maxamalist at heart and the sitting room shows that off.
When he walks in, Isaac is staring at the newest addition: a newspaper clipping framed and given a place of honor.
“I can’t believe he kept this.” Isaac says, addressing Colin who is lounging on the couch, watching Issac explore. Neither of them notice Michael.
“He thought it was funny, and I kinda agree. Me mum kept a copy too.”
The article in question came out two days after AFC Richmond’s win against West Ham. It featured a picture of the kiss Colin and Michael had shared, just a freezeframe from one of the hundreds of cameras recording the victory celebration on the field. Colin had purchased the paper with trembling hands then made Michael read it outloud to him in the car, unable to bear seeing his biggest secret laid out in black and white, even if he’d thought himself ready at the time.
Instead of scandal and speculation, the author of the piece had pointed to their fierce embrace and kiss as a show of healthy masculinity and excitement. He’d called them good friends. No other story had run. No other theories, like say these two men are obviously deeply in love, had been floated. Overall very anticlimactic.
“It is funny.” Michael says to announce his return. “We got and they were roomates ’d and I want to commemorate that forever. Budge up babe.”
Colin obediently removes his legs from the half of the couch that they’d been taking up, swinging them back into Michael’s lap. “‘Close friends, besties, roomates, colleagues.’’' he quotes with a small smile. “‘Anything but lovers.’”
Clearly Isaac is unfamiliar with that song. He scrunches his face up then has to readjust his glasses when the movement screws them. “Glad it all worked out, anyway.”
At Michael’s insistence, Isaac takes a seat in the armchair across from the couch. They chat for a little while about casual things with no real weight. What their team members have been up to, if anyone has heard from Ted Lasso since he boarded the plane for America, the new movies coming to the cinema soon that they’ll have to go watch together, the entire pint of ice cream Isaac had panic eaten before Colin invited him over.
It’s…nice. Michael has hung out with Isaac before, obviously, but normally with a lot of others around. Never just the three of them in Michael’s quiet house, talking about how they’ve been spending the summer. Isaac tells them about seeing his family a lot. Helping with his youngest sister’s new baby. Colin catches Isaac up on the gossip from Wales.
He’s been bouncing back and forth between his home town and London according to Michael’s work schedule. The names he uses are only names and blurry Snapchat photos to Michael but Isaac obviously knows them all personally. Of course he does. Isaac has been Colin’s best mate for years and Michael’s only been dating Colin a few months. He finds himself a little bit jealous anyway.
“What exactly is it that you do again, bruv?” Isaac asks when it’s brought up that he’s just gotten back from a week and a half in Indonesia but a few years ago spent almost a month in the Midwest, a stone’s throw from where their former coach was from.
“I work for Leverage International, which is an expansion of Leverage Consulting & Associates.” Michael says, playing with the hem of Colin’s trousers. “We have crews in a lot of major cities that work the surrounding areas, including London, but I’m pretty freelance because my skills are more specialized. A lot of my work actually can be done remotely or in advance and when I travel it’s because a crew is short staffed or they need me on site.”
“I have no idea what the fuck that means.” Isaac’s admission makes Michael grin. Most people heard that spiel and nodded like they understood then moved the conversation on to other things. “But good for you.”
“Thanks.”
“If you ask any more questions he’ll go off about security systems, international law, and the papermaking methods of the seventeen hundreds.” Colin warns, but not in a mean way. They had an understanding when it came to talking about their work lives. One that was more precarious, now that Colin was out to his teammates, but that still stood.
Michael was only interested in football to support Colin, and Colin allowed Michael to plan dates to museums then get completely ignored. It worked.
Their balance did not account for Isaac’s curiosity or nerdiness.
“ ‘m not a nerd.” Isaac objects, puffing out his chest and flexing his muscles. It draws Michael’s attention to his plentiful muscles (and his thighs, which are just plain unfair ) but does not actually prove anything.
“Whatever.” Colin stretches out his arms then settles down with them tucked behind his head, eyes closed like he’s about to take a nap. “You two both are, honestly. That’s why it took so long for me to introduce ya, cause I knew the instant you met you’d ditch me to discuss Shakespeare and watch Mythbusters .”
“Don’t you bring Mythbusters into this,” Isaac warns at the same time Michael says, “Only one of us has been to numerous Doctor Who conventions and it was not me.”
There had been costumes involved, Michael knows, though he’s yet to get photographic evidence. He’d found the long coat in Colin’s closet and when his (at the time not quite yet) boyfriend had gone red, pushed until Colin gave up the truth.
“That wasn’t nerdy though, that was cool.”
Michael stares at Isaac. “Did you go too? Wait, more importantly, did you do cosplay?”
“Course, woulda’ been real weird to be the only person not dressed up.” says Isaac with such casualness you would never know he’d just denied being any flavor of nerdy. “Was the fittest Doctor there, too.”
“Because your leather jacket was way too tight.” Colin says with a roll of his eyes. “Every time he moved I thought it was going to break, but he refused to buy a size up no matter how many times I told him.”
“Come off it, the fitting was perfect.”
It’s clearly an old argument that the two mates have had enough times that they don’t have to put any thought behind their words. Michael opens his mouth several times to pitch in but his mind is spinning too fast for any words to form. After a couple minutes of this, Colin notices and softly presses a socked foot into his stomach. “Babe?”
“Sorry, I just…” How to ask this? “Did you two go to a convention together dressed as the Ninth Doctor and Captain Jack? Ow!”
Colin’s foot is not so gentle this time.
Isaac looks between them with the expression of a man who knows he’s missing something but isn’t sure what. “Yeah, so what?”
Planting a hand on Colin’s foot to pin it to his lap and ensure that he can’t get kicked again, Michael asks, slowly, “So you, as a straight man who thought that his best friend was also a straight man, agreed to dress up as the characters who shared one of the first queer kisses ever broadcast on the BBC?”
“What, in the series one finale? That was platonic, innit.”
Wincing, Colin corrects him. “No, it was romantic, at least on Jack’s part. He’s canonically been in love with the Doctor pretty much the entire time. But since you didn’t seem to realize it and I didn’t want to make you question why I was so obsessed with him I just. Did not contradict you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You can’t just not believe me, it’s the truth!”
“Fine, then prove it.” Isaac challenges, crossing his arms. “Let’s do it, rewatch, right now. Like it’s our first season at Richmond all over again. Rolo popcorn and everything. Show me all the bits I didn’t pick up the first time about Captain Jack being in love with the Doc.”
All thoughts about how Isaac had clearly never seen Torchwood go out the window. “Sorry did you say Rolo popcorn?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s actually pretty good.” Colin admits, looking upset about it.
Culinary crimes are avoided by the fact that Michael doesn’t have any Rolos at his house and no one feels like leaving their air conditioned utopia to go to the shop and buy some. Isaac agrees to settle for normal popcorn and the rest of the ice cream he’d brought over. While Colin wrestles with the air popper, Michael gets down the champagne glasses because they might as well use the bottle tonight.
Snacks in hand, they head upstairs. Unfortunately their Doctor Who through a queer lens marathon is held up by two problems.
The first is that Michael’s only TV is in the bedroom. He’d not even owned one before he and Colin decided to make their relationship official, since Michael tended to watch most shows and movies on his laptop. Since Colin insisted that huddling around a tiny screen was a disservice to the media and threatened to never come over again, Michael had conceded and bought one with Colin’s input. They’d installed it on the wall together then celebrated with their first night of ‘Netflix and chill’.
That would be fine, except that he has no other seating in the room except for the bed. Even sitting on the floor in front of the bed is out since the angle would make it impossible to see the screen. Sure it’s a big bed with plenty of room for all three of them but the two footballers freeze as they step into the room.
The second problem is the candles Michael had brought up earlier. Even someone who’s never set foot here before can tell that it’s been set up for a romantic night in. Case in point: Isaac, who glances guiltily at Colin. “Sorry mate.”
“Not the first time you’ve cock blocked me.” sighs Colin. “Won’t be the last, I’m sure.”
“I could just uh,” Isaac jerks a thumb over his shoulder, a clear signal that he’s about to leave.
“No.” The steel behind Michael’s voice surprises everyone but none more than himself. This wasn’t how he pictured tonight going but now that Isaac is here, Michael doesn’t want him to leave. He tells himself it’s for Colin’s sake, because sharing this part of himself (his boyfriend, the media that had brought him so much hope as a child) with Isaac is important. But just as much as Michael wants that for Colin, he wants Isaac to stay for his own selfish reasons of liking Isaac, of wanting to get to know him better. “Ignore the candles. We can do all that tomorrow, Col.”
“Promise?”
Michael turns to Colin and kisses him best he can when both of them are holding stuff. Their teeth clink together at a weird angle but they make it work. “Promise. Now quit being idiots, you two have probably seen each other naked more than we,” he gestures between himself and Colin, “have, at this point. Just get on the bed already.”
Awkwardly, they do. Michael takes the middle, tugging the large bowl of popcorn from Colin’s hands and settling it into his lap for easy access from all sides. He makes Isaac open the champagne and pour it into the three glasses. They pass the pint of Cookies and Creme around whenever requested, all using the single spoon that didn’t get dropped while trying to get comfortable.
Sitting sandwiched between Colin and Isaac is warm but Michael can’t bring himself to mind because it’s comfortable as hell. Again he imagines trying to tell the Michael of a year ago about how life is going now. Two gorgeous, ridiculously fit, designer clothes wearing footballers are laying in his bed, throwing popcorn at each other as they cue up Doctor Who . One of them is his boyfriend.
The power in Richmond comes back on around midnight, but by then Isaac has already fallen asleep and is drooling slightly on Michael’s pillow, thoroughly convinced of Jack Harkness’ undying love for the Doctor. They have plans to start Torchwood together some other night.
“No point in waking him,” Michael whispers to Colin, mostly asleep himself. With care, Michael removes Isaac’s glasses, folds them, and leans over Isaac to place them on the bedside table with the empty bowl. When that’s done he eases back down and arranges Colin’s arms around himself even though overnight Colin will shift and inevitably end up sleeping face down, somehow. The position leaves him face to face with Issac. “Goodnight boys.”
My boys, Amy Pond says in his memory. Michael has no claim to Isaac, and barely a claim to Colin when considering the vast history between the other two men laying in this bed. But it’s a nice thought.