Hey Bartender, Hit Me

Chapter 13

[This is where shit hits the fan. Just an FYI...]

***

"Okay, Luke. You can do this." Luke said to himself as he got out of the limo. Michael had gotten out moments earlier, and after a really tense car ride home from the bar, Luke wanted nothing more than to just get back inside and tell Adam to keep driving until he was braver.

    He didn't even understand why Michael was upset, they'd barely interacted all afternoon. Luke had made sure he was good, he didn't speak to anyone besides Harry and Naba, he never answered back, and he did what he was told. Maybe Michael was just having a bad day, but he was uncertain about what was going to come from this. 

    Luke walked inside, hanging his jacket up, as well as the one Michael had thrown on the couch in the foyer and searched for the boyfriend he'd been trying to ignore for a couple days.

     He had finally made his decision, and he needed to talk to Michael.

    "Hey, Michael? C-can we talk about something?"

    Michael sighed heavily, slamming the refrigerator door shut.

    "Did you go shopping yesterday?"

    "N-no, I told you I had rehearsal."

    Michael scoffed, heading to the pantry instead and pulling a box of pasta from the cabinet.

    "So uhm, I just..." He'd been rehearsing the lines in his head the entire day, but he couldn't seem to form the sentence when it counted. "Recently I feel like...What was the reason—"

    "Luke, if you're not going to actually say anything, just let me make my food in peace." Michael snapped, slamming the pot full of water on the gas stove and igniting the burner. "You're so annoying, god."

    "Well, that's sort of what I want to talk about,"

    Michael glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

    "You want to tell me how annoying you are?"

    "No," Luke shook his head, wringing his fingers as he sat on a stool on the island across from the stove. If he didn't have to look at Michael, it might make things easier. He focused on the bills and other pieces of mail that were on the counter in front of him. 

    "Then what is it? It's been a long day, Luke."

    "Uhm, just don't think everything has been okay." Was what he managed to say. That was not what he'd rehearsed, but all that went out the window the second he stepped inside. His mind was blank, all he could feel was panic and stress. 

    Why was this so hard?

    Michael rolled his eyes, turning around to face Luke.

    "You're gonna need to elaborate more. I don't know what that means."

    "With...with us," he whispered.

    "Excuse me?" Michaels face hardened. He ditched the pasta, extinguishing the flame and leaving the pot on the stove before making his way over to Luke.

    It was hard because he knew Michael wouldn't react well. 

    "I just...we've been distant and, I don't know...you seem unhappy with me so often. We just need to t-talk," Luke stutters as Michael slowly invades his personal space.

    "We need to talk?" he growled, face inches from Luke's. The smaller boy tried to lean away but was stuck between his angry boyfriend and the countertop. "Exactly what about?"