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ONE - SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA
“Hey Cha!”
Michael doesn’t flinch as he tunes his guitar, eyes down on the stage to make sure he hits the right pitch. Doors don’t open for a few hours and soundcheck is happening soon, and this guitar in particular has been wanting to stay out of tune for the short string of shows they had before a three month break. He almost wants to smash it if it weren’t fucking expensive and cause bigger headaches for the tour. He just needs to get through tonight’s show and he’ll be fine. Besides, Isaac is probably talking to someone else, maybe a venue security person, because he doesn’t know any Cha on Louis’ tour.
“ Cha! ” Isaac shouts again, waving his arms and jumping up and down. When Michael doesn’t answer again, his arms drop and he huffs. “ Ch- oh, for fuck’s sake, Michael!”
This time, Michael does look up, seeing the other walking towards him with a frown. “What, love?”
Isaac pouts, scuffing Michael’s shoe like the mature adult he is. “I was calling for you and you weren’t listening.”
Michael blinks. “You were calling for Cha…” he speaks slowly, like he’s talking to a child. The twitch of Isaac’s eyebrow shows he’s not happy with the treatment. “I’m not Cha. I’m Michael.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of a nickname before?” Isaac continues his mission on dirtying his shoes. Michael needs to have him spend less time with Louis, the chaotic energy is rubbing off on him. “Course you have. You call me babygirl.”
“ Everyone calls you babygirl,” Michael corrects, moving his shoe away. Isaac goes for his other shoe. Definitely less Louis time. “You always call me Michael.”
Isaac groans, kicking the ground away from the taped down equipment and taking the guitar from Michael. “You deserve a nickname. ‘m testing them out, gonna see which one fits,” he plucks the problem string a couple times while staring at the tuning box.
There’s something hot about Isaac tuning his guitar that Michael is going to keep between him, God, and the notes app on his phone. His brain goes a little stupid whenever he sees Isaac in work mode like this. Thank fuck he stands in front of him. “You don’t have to,” he says in the silence between them. Michael can’t be blamed when Isaac is doing his job and looking both hot and soft.
He is but a man.
“I want to, you deserve one,” Isaac mumbles as he tries once more to tune the guitar, eventually handing it back over. “You need a new string for this one. I can do it for you if you got one.”
Michael is fully capable of restringing his own guitar. He doesn’t think he’d be here, on a world tour with a huge act, if he didn’t know how to restring his own guitar. But, again, he is but a man, and if he gets to watch Isaac work on his guitar and look good while doing it, well, that notes app will hear about it later.
-
TWO - SAN JUAN, PUERTO RICO
“Have you seen Isaac?” Michael asks various crew members as he passes through, not stopping long enough to hear an answer. He’s a man on a mission, and any more time spent not finding Isaac is more time he doesn’t have the jacket he stole.
He passes by a few more crew members before he’s stopped by Steve, who wants to go over logistics for something in the show that Michael should be listening to. He really should. It’s important that he listens to the musical director of the tour, especially when it comes to his parts in the show. But he can’t. Not when he’s trying to get his jacket back.
“And I think we would need to raise your l- are you even listening right now?” Steve drops his clipboard to his sides, frowning. “This is important.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Michael says as he looks around, clearly not listening.
Steve looks tired of dealing with him, shaking his head. “He’s in one of the green rooms. Third door down,” he sighs.
Michael perks up, grabs Steve’s face and kisses his forehead. Patting his cheek twice, he’s off again. “I owe you one, mate!” he calls back to Steve.
“Fucking listen to me next time, then!” Steve shouts back, only getting a wave in return.
Isaac isn’t alone when he makes it to the green room, chatting with Joshua while he’s spread over one of the sofas. They both look at the door when he pops through, Isaac’s face lighting up. “Micicles!”
Stutter stepping, Michael looks at him, confused. “Micicles?”
“Yeah! Micicles!” Isaac beams as he gets up to walk up to him. He stops short when he sees the frown present on Michael’s face. “I take that you don’t like it. I worked hard on it.”
Shaking his head, Michael is trying to remember why he would need to work hard on Micicles . “Are you still on that nickname thing? I told you my name’s just fine.”
“I, for one, think Micicles is perfect, ” Joshua laughs, leaning back in his seat. “Just let Lou get wind of it. He won’t let it go.”
“ Please don’t let Louis hear that,” Michael practically begs. “I just got my name back from last Odds.”
Isaac tilts his head to the side, considering what he has said. “I think Lou’ll love it, actually,” he smiles devilishly, quickly making his way out of the room in search of Louis.
Michael doesn’t realize he’s fucked until the door closes, leaving him and Joshua alone. “What did you even need him for?”
“My jacket,” he mumbles, still mourning the loss of his name. Again.
Joshua throws his head back and laughs loud. “Mate, you’re never getting it back.”
-
They’re huddled before the show, doing their rituals and getting hyped for their performance. Once they break away, Louis goes around and fist bumps each other band members, saying something encouraging to each of them.
“Kill it out there, Micicles,” Louis smirks when he gets to Michael, not giving him enough time to respond before moving on.
Isaac cackles and claps his back as they make their way to their marks. Michael stands there for three seconds too long, being ushered off by a frantic stage manager while being chastised for delaying the show any further.
-
THREE - MONTEVIDEO, URUGUAY
It feels almost like a date.
Isaac wanted to explore the beaches in Uruguay, having texted Michael the night before asking if he wanted to join. He had assumed others were coming along, grabbing a little camera he’s been carrying around to take photos of everyone while they’re out. When he met up with Isaac in the lobby of the hotel, he was shocked to find just him, hands shoved in his pockets, emotional support cap on his head, looking around whilst he waited for Michael to arrive. His face had lit up when he spotted him, pulling one hand out to wave him over.
“C’mon, we got beaches to see,” he tugs on Michael’s jacket and pulls him out of the hotel.
“What about the others?” Michael asks belatedly when they’re half way down the street, interrupting the other’s ramblings of where they should get breakfast.
He could’ve sworn a blush sat high on Isaac’s cheeks as he sputters, “O-oh. I thought it’d be nice to hang out,” he laughs a bit nervously. “Just us two.”
Michael swallows, not trusting his own voice as they make it to the café. When he does speak, his voice almost squeaks, clearing his throat and pointedly ignoring the curious eyes of his companion. He tries to ignore his own rising blush and become suddenly very interested in his medialunas. Sure, he burns his hand and tongue in the process, but he can’t meet Isaac’s eye right now.
If he could sit back and watch Isaac all day, watch him peruse the streets and sand of Montevideo with a childlike glee, he would. Michael is a bit of a softie when it comes to Isaac, letting the other get away with things he wouldn’t let anyone else get away with. Matt says he’s whipped, Zac says he follows him around like a puppy dog, Steve says he needs to pay attention when they talk shop and not make love eyes at Isaac. And perhaps they’re right, even if Steve’s a bit rude about it, though he won’t admit it out loud to anyone.
That’s between him and his notes app for now.
He can’t help but snap photos of Isaac when he knows he isn’t paying attention, feeling his heart swell every time they manage to catch each other’s eye afterwards. The soft smile he gets every time makes his heart pound. The gentle touches when Isaac pulls him in a new direction makes his brain stop functioning. The need he feels to just lace their fingers together every time their hands brush.
Michael swallows the lump in his throat as Isaac laughs. It feels like a date, but maybe he’s making it up?
Isaac keeps taking sweeping videos of their surroundings, not having a care in the world as watches back the videos he takes. At one point, he turns the camera to Michael, and as a reflex, he brings the camera up to take a photo of Isaac. He smiles as Isaac twists the camera around, snapping photos he’ll look through later.
“Why do you keep taking pictures, Mike-a-roni?” Isaac asks once he stops recording, sidling up to him.
Because I want to keep this moment forever. “You never take enough photos of yourself, someone’s gotta do it,” he teases, before what Isaac says catches up to his brain. “Mike-a-roni?”
Isaac’s eyes glimmer. “You like that one?”
Michael’s mouth goes dry when he looks up from his camera and notices the lack of distance between them, so close that he could count the freckles dusting under his eyes. When did Isaac get so close? He would’ve - should’ve - noticed him getting closer, and has become keenly aware of his movement. Any attempt at speaking is futile, and he really can’t be helped with the rising panic of a boy as pretty as Isaac being this close to him, can he?
It’s made worse when their noses brush when Isaac rocks forward before he pulls away. He gives Michael a teasing smile and pulls on his wrist. “You like that one?” he repeats his question, tilting his head to the side.
“Like macaroni and cheese?” Michael’s brain can only conjure this question, any other thought besides Isaac is out the fucking door.
“Yeah!” Isaac giggles, he fucking giggles. He really needs to stop spending time with Louis, he’s starting to flirt like him, too. Shit , is Isaac flirting? “Me and Louis came up with that one.”
Laughing nervously, Michael says, “I think Lou’s a bad influence.”
Isaac laces their fingers together, tugging him towards the exit. “I think you need to get some whimsy. Maybe find someone to lay with,” he squeezes his fingers. “I might know a guy.”
Michael is too distracted by them holding hands to see the devious glint in Isaac’s eye, implying he might be that guy. His eyes won’t leave their joined hands as they make their way back to the hotel, even when he nearly hits a pole, even when he runs into a table, even when he falls into an unlucky woman and gets smacked.
He secretly takes a few snaps of their hands. His notes app is going to love this.
-
FOUR - LIMA, PERÚ
“Your shoes are a bit dirty,” Louis tips his bottle towards Michael’s feet on the table in the green room. “Have you been running through piles of dirt, then?”
Michael inspects his shoes, tilting his head to the side. They’ve been dirty for a while. They’re his favorite pair of worn Converse, the black making it impossible to see their age. The pristine white is no longer, a well loved pair through the years has seen better days. The tips are much dirtier than normal grime and gunk. Isaac has made a habit of scuffing his shoes now if he doesn’t have Michael’s full attention when he’s speaking. Which is a lot, unfortunately, since he can’t be helped to pay attention while battling his own feelings and the gorgeous boy in front of him.
There’s a sad face that he’s only just now noticed on his left shoe, in the corner toward the outer side of his foot. He knows it’s Isaac’s doing without even checking with the other guys. His right shoe mirrors that sad face. They look to be fresh, probably from that day when Michael was talking with Matt.
He smiles at the thought, shrugging and bringing his own bottle to his lips. “Not even close, man,” he takes a swig and nods towards where Isaac is holding court of the others. “Your mini me is responsible for that one. Need to keep him away from you, it seems. You’re rubbing off on him too much.”
Louis watches him carefully, not speaking for a while. The thing with Louis is he’s very observant. While he loves being the center of attention, he loves sitting back and taking stock of people just as much. He knows things about people, listens when others aren’t and finds information out that he wouldn’t normally know. Michael would love to just sit and pick his brain one day, he’s just a very interesting guy to be around.
Michael gets lost in watching Isaac tell some story he knows is full of shit when Louis clears his throat. As he looks back at him, there’s a knowing smile on his lips. “You should go for it.”
“What?”
Louis nods his head towards the group. “You should go for it,” he repeats.
Still confused, he asks, “It?”
“Your boy,” Louis replies, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “You should go for your boy.”
Michael’s thankful he wasn’t drinking anything, or he would’ve choked on his beer. “I don’t have a boy,” he rushes out, red taking over his face.
“You do,” he smiles, so fucking sure of himself. “You do have a boy.”
“I don’t have a boy,” Michael repeats, voice weak.
“Do you think you can pull one past me, Michael?” Louis sits forward and leans against his knees. “Do you not remember the daddy incident? Or the fact I’ve been right where you’ve been?”
“B-but I don-“
“Michael,” Louis looks over to the group to make sure none of them are paying them mind before looking back. “How do you think me and H got together? Do you think we just kept hemming and hawing until his cock slipped in me? One of us,” Louis coughs, “ me, ” he coughs some more, “had to be the one to take that leap. If it weren’t for that, neither of us would be in the best relationship we’d ever been in.”
Fish mouthing, Michael shakes his head. “He doesn’t feel the same way.”
Louis rolls his eyes. “He does.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Before Louis can answer, Isaac breaks his story to yell, “Mikea! Come over here and defend my honor!”
There is no honor to defend, not when he’s telling a bullshit story about wrestling a pig. “You don’t need to keep up with the nicknames, Isaac.”
Isaac pouts. “Mikea’s a good one though! We could open our own IKEA with it!” his face lights up at his idea. “But come here , I need backup.”
Michael looks at Louis, who shrugs. “He needs backup.”
“I don’t even know where he’s come up with these,” Michael grumbles as he gets up.
“Mikea was my idea,” Louis laughs, only to laugh harder when Michael gives him the finger as he goes.
-
FIVE - QUERÉTARO, MEXICO
Michael is drunk and vibrating, excitement flowing through his veins as Isaac leans into him and laughs. They’re out celebrating after the show for Isaac’s birthday, going a little harder than normal with a rest day tomorrow. Sure, they’re also traveling tomorrow, and while transporting multiple hungover men on a bumping bus isn’t the most ideal situation to be in, it doesn’t stop them from having a good time. Will their morning selves agree? Most likely not, especially Michael since he tends to get motion sick when he’s had too much. But that’s a problem for future him.
You only live once or some shit like that, he’ll tell his morning self. Let them live.
Isaac’s always been a lightweight, and it becomes Michael’s task to make sure he ends up in bed with all ten fingers and toes still attached. When it comes time to take him back to the hotel, the rest of the boys stay out, ribbing him as he gathers Isaac to make the trek back to the hotel. Louis usually has a pretty good filter when sober, but his drunk self loudly tells Michael to always use protection as they leave. This doesn’t make the ribbing end, the guys getting louder and catcalling after the two.
They manage to get to the car in one piece, Isaac’s head in his lap. His cap is gone because he demanded Michael play with his hair, tacking on that it’s his birthday and he has to do what the birthday boy says. Michael would’ve done it regardless, because Matt was right when he said he’s whipped for Isaac. The boy in his lap is humming happily, tapping his knee to a song that isn’t playing. At least he thinks it’s a song, he can’t figure out what song it could even be based on the taps.
Getting out of the car proves to be a challenge when you have a man who turns into a child when drunk. Michael, who’s sobered up quite a bit on the ride over, ends up having to carry him up to his room after several moments of failed convincing to get up. Isaac whines the second his head leaves his lap, that whining stopping when he buries his face in his neck. His heart feels like it beats irregularly the whole ride in the lift, kisses placed on his neck that are so light, he’s convinced he’s made that up.
The plan was to get Isaac to his room, deposit him into bed, and sneak away to calm his frantic heart in the privacy of his own room. The plan does not make it past the second part, when Isaac refuses to get into bed, instead standing in his room as he tries to toe off his shoes by banging his foot into the ground.
“It’s not working,” he pouts, continuing his efforts to take his shoes off.
Michael takes pity on him and helps him out, undoing his laces and letting him brace himself on his shoulders as he gets the shoes off. He makes the mistake of looking up at Isaac, finding fuzzy eyes already staring at him.
“You need help getting into bed, then?” he laughs nervously, slowly getting up to not jumble Isaac around.
Isaac doesn’t answer, rather content staring at Michael. “You got pretty eyes.”
“Uh,” Michael’s brain isn’t off duty, guys. Please leave a message and he’ll kindly deal with this in the morning. “They’re just blue?”
Isaac shakes his head, uncoordinated. “They’re pretty blue,” he hums, leaning closer and closer. “Your face is also pretty, Mi-curious.”
Michael can’t help but laugh, trying to get distance between them before his brain is out of commission for a week. “Mi-curious?”
“I think I’m Mi-curious,” Isaac mumbles as he rocks forward and gets his mouth dangerously close to Michael’s. He catches the corner of it, and he pulls back with a lazy smile. Fuck . “I think I’m Mi-incurious. I think I’m Mi-know.”
This is a problem for their future selves, both completely sober. Now is not the time to deal with this. “Let’s get you to bed, love.”
“Bed with me, Mi-know?” Isaac tilts his head to the side, blinking sleepily at him.
Michael is a weak man, okay? He’s got a hard time of saying no to this man sober, let alone when he’s had a few. Nodding, he gets their trousers and socks off at least, helping Isaac with his jewelry and setting them next his own. He ignores the tugs on his heart when he sees their combined collection together, forcing it to the back of his mind. Getting Isaac into bed is easier than he initially thought, the other curling up to Michael the second he settles.
Isaac kisses his collarbone and mumbles what he thinks is a good night, but it’s not completely coherent when he says it. It takes a while for Michael to sleep, Isaac’s lips burned into his skin and his brain trying to figure out what does this all mean.
-
+ONE - MÉRIDA, MEXICO
“I could’ve walked, you know,” Isaac teases after the festival performance, pulling Michael off course from the green room. “My legs work just fine. See? Even using them right now.”
Michael knows that, and he still can’t explain why he carried Isaac after the photo during their set. The last few days have had him buzzing under his skin, and he did it spur of the moment. His excitement couldn’t be contained, he assumes. Performing with his best mates at Louis’ own festival, the tingling he still has from their almost kiss, it just came over him, he assumes. He kind of just wanted to hold him in that moment.
Is that a crime?
“Proud of you and your legs, Izzy bee,” Michael jokes back, running into Isaac’s back. Stepping back, he’s confused. “What?”
“Izzy bee?” Isaac asks as he turns around to face him.
Fuck, it left his head. “Y-yeah,” he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Izzy bee.”
Isaac tilts his head. “My name’s Isaac.”
Michael swallows. “‘s a nickname,” he explains, feeling dumb. “You heard of ‘em?”
“You don’t have to give me a nickname, Michael.”
“I want to,” he shrugs. “You deserve one.”
There’s silence and Michael refuses to make eye contact. He feels like he’s fucked it up. He hadn’t meant for the name to leave his notes app, where he’d been calling Isaac that for months. It just fits in a way that he can’t explain. It’s special, just like Isaac.
“D-do you li-“
A gentle press of lips against his own shuts him up quickly, and warmth and joy spread to the tips of his fingers and toes. His hand reaches up to cup Isaac’s cheek, earning a soft, happy sigh in return. They wear mirroring smiles when they pull away, Isaac’s eyes shining under the shitty overhead lights outside in the field.
“I love it.”