Michael makes a decision. Arrested Development fanfiction.
|A/N: This is Arrested Development fanfiction, so the characters are not my own. The scenario is intended to take place after Michael Bluth has met Lucille 2 and Argyle Austero at the Balboa Club in S4(FC) E17. Word Count:689|
Cold water against hot skin. Michael sighed heavily as the rivulets dripped from his flushed face onto the sink. The run-in with Lucille and her tall, flamboyant brother had left him in a state. The garish pink of Argyle's suit still flashed before his eyes, while Michael's heart rate took its sweet time slowing down. He had been aware beforehand that Lucille had a brother, and that the guy was... well, a showman and a dancer. Rumour got around about these things. He hadn't expected colorful Argyle to leave such an impression, though.
Michael looked at his own dark suit in the mirror. Dark on dark. He appeared serious. His suit not quite becoming, but pristine. Somehow awkward and well put together at the same time. For a moment he hated himself. A flash of an old self-resentment that belonged to his younger days searing through his body. Must be nerves about the debt, he thought. Argyle's threatening behaviour, as he'd been shaking him down for money in front of Lucille, had been thrilling in a sickly way that had Michael's stomach in knots. He was used to money worries, and shimmying out of trouble with investors was a familiar scene. It was the only dancing that Michael was good at. This run-in had left him shook, though.
Head bent low, he let all the worries wash over him for a moment. The unpaid loan. The embarassment of hiding that he didn't have the money, and still wouldn't in the forseeable future... The familiar anxious tensions in his body tightened painfully.
Suddenly, a waft of cologne, no... perfume, filled his nostrils. Michael looked up to see Argyle looking back at him via the mirror. Michael inhaled more perfume, the previously pleasant aroma now stinging in his nose. He hoped his eyes were not watering, as he turned around. Argyle moved forwards, confidently crowding him with his body. At a loss, Michael let himself be pressured into scooting up onto the rim of the wet sink. He could feel droplets of cold water soaking through the pants of his suit, but in the moment that seemed unimportant. Currents of hot anxiousness flowed through his body, and with a surge of panic he felt his body respond - hotly and insistently- to Argyle’s strong presence.
"I'll... I'll get the money.." he stuttered, wrong-footed and unable to do his usual dance. Argyle let out a huff of laughter. The warm puff of air breezed over Michael's face, and made him keenly aware of the fact that he wasn't looking Argyle in the eye. Argyle bent a long, graceful finger under Michaels chin, and tilted his head up. Michael felt forced to look up into the other man's eyes, much like when Argyle had been shaking him down for Lucille's money earlier. This time, though, his gestures seemed gentler. Michael had a wild impulse to laugh at the juxtaposition of Argyle's firm pressure against his body, and the sweet gentleness of his gestures.
The older man seemed to wait until Michael was ready to give him his full attention, patiently standing tall and proud between his legs. With a steady intake of breath, Michael finally felt ready to do just that. Despite the madness of the situation, everything seemed perfectly calm for a moment, as he gazed steadily into Argyle's mirthful eyes.
"Are you ready to talk about more interesting things than money now, my dear?" Argyle inquired, his finger still giving a gentle pressure under Michael's chin. There was no doubt as to Argyle 's meaning. Feeling a glorious peace that he felt he'd been lacking his whole life spread inside himself, Michael finally let himself aknowledge his own body's obvious arousal. For several breaths, and for many forceful heart beats, he allowed himself the luxury of letting his attention map out and catalogue every sweet feeling in his own body. All the while, Argyle waited patiently, yet with a deliciously firm presence. At last, Michael felt ready. As a liftime of tensions loosened and gave way in his body, he looked Argyle steadily in the eye, and finally gave his answer: