Person: @seraphimichael Location: front porch It is perhaps the worst thing he could do. Nate's never been around Michael after drinking aside from the awkward shuffle from Sunday brunch down to their room. This though, this was a lot for him considering he'd been drinking on his own at Atlas's place and had decided he needed to see Michael. Since their last conversation, they hadn't really talked aside from pleasantries, stuff relating to the bar and that was their fault, they'd become even more skittish. Skittish but ever watchful, like he almost didn't believe Michael was even really there. But they sit there now on the front porch as the truck pulls up the driveway under the warm light above the door. Elbows on his knees and hair nearly in his face, Nate's eyes are wet, rimmed red, and there's a bottle of beer in his hand. They don't know why they're there, not really, but they do know they just have to see him.