Murmuration

Sean doesn’t say anything else, just continues brushing a finger over Mike’s face.

He thinks that’ll be it. That they’ll let this go, that Sean doesn’t need to know what drove him here in the middle of the night. They’ll sleep, and in the morning, they’ll blush and stutter at each other, and it will be painfully sweet. Mike will pretend he’s not crazy and Sean will continue being the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

(Are you sure about that? the little part of him asks. How can you know? You only know three years. You don’t know anything more. For all you know, this is heaven. Or this is hell. Or They Came from Outer Space and now you’re on their ship, spinning in a vat of fluid as they experiment on you, and this is nothing but a dream. Or you’re just schizophrenic. And this is yet another delusion. Another hallucination. Wouldn’t that just be the bee’s knees if Sean weren’t even real?)

He can’t take the silence anymore. Not like this. Not now. Not with that thought barreling through his head.

He says, “You’re real?”

It’s a question. It’s not meant to be a question, but it is. It’s whispered softly, but it’s still a goddamn question.

Sean says, “I’m real.” No hesitation.

It’s a relief. “Yeah?”

Sean wrinkles his nose. “Yeah.”

And waits.

He’s not going to push. He’s not going to pull.

Mike’s a little angry at that, though he has no right to be. He lets it go as quickly as it rolls over him. He’s sure there’s something complicated going on with his face right now, but Sean’s trailing a finger over the shell of his ear and it distracts him.

He says, “I think I’m haunted.” And it’s not exactly what he meant to say, but it’s close. It’ll do. For now.

“Haunted,” Sean repeats.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Sean shrugs. “Okay.”

“But—”

“Mike. Listen.”

Mike does.

“I believe you.”

“But you don’t even know what I’m—”

A finger to his lips shushes him. “I believe it because you believe it.”

He doesn’t think it should work like that. He doesn’t know what he’s done to earn such blind trust. He doesn’t say anything as the finger falls away.

Sean’s eyes are locked with his, and Mike has to fight to not look away. “Now. Haunted.”

Mike nods.

“Real or in your head?”

And that’s… tricky. He says, “Both.”

“Okay. How?”