thinking about you [muke af]

nine +

nine +

Luke was siting in his car outside of Michael’s apartment, his knees were bouncing up and down the dirty floors of the car. He didn’t know why he was here. It was 9:30 p.m. on a Saturday night, the younger boy probably isn’t home. 

Michael laid on the couch half naked, his phone in his hand. “Yeah, Mom, I’m doing the paper right now,” he lied. 

“I’m not happy with your grades right now. You only have a few months left, I want you to get them up.” She was using her mother-voice on Michael and that only made him roll his eyes more. 

“I’m not happy at all,” he said, knowing it would get her to lay off of him. 

“Do you want to talk to your therapist again, sweetie? I can schedule an appointment for you.” Her entire demeanor changed and Michael wasn't sure which one he hated more. 

The doorbell rang, echoing though the house. “Oh would you look at that, there is a murderer at the door. I’ve gotta go, love you, bye,” he quickly pushed his sentences together, pressing the end button without another word. 

Michael sat up, his knees cracking. He picked up his Rolling Stones tee shirt, pulling it over his upper body. He figured anyone at the door would love his Spiderman boxers and didn’t bother trying to shove his legs into the skin tight denim. 

There was another knock at the door. 

“Christ, give me a minute!” He yelled, still making his way to the front door. If it was Calum again forgetting his key, Michael was going to kick him out. 

Luke heard the yelling, quickly slumping down to a smaller size. His cheeks lit up a vermillion shade with embarrassment. At least he knew the younger boy was home, now. 

The door opened, Michael leaning against it. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey, s—sorry for being impatient,” Luke stuttered. He looked down at their feet, Luke was in dirty Vans with a hole by the toe. Michael was barefoot, his pale feet even more pale than Luke could ever imagine. 

“Nah, it’s alright. You made me get up from the couch, you might as well come in.” Mike laughed, moving his body to give the broad boy space to come into the messy apartment. 

Luke smiled, sliding his lip under his upper teeth. He walked into the large space, kicking off his shoes by the pile of many other black shoes. 

Michael and Calum’s apartment was a little different than the other two boys. It was all one spacious floor, a small hallway to the left leading to two bedrooms and a bathroom. The walls were white (with a few suspicious stains) along with white carpet (with more suspicious stains). A small seating area with a large television sat in one corner, their kitchen along with a small table in another. A coat closet was empty of coats, instead filled with a dozen guitars and a few smaller amps. 

“Nice place,” Luke commented, shrugging off his jean jacket and placing it over the back of the couch. “So, you know Ashton?”

“The hippy-looking one?” Michael asked as he moved around the couch, sitting down on the soft cushion. He put his feet up on the back of the couch, leaning his head on the shoulders. 

Luke laughed, sitting down awkwardly between Michael’s stretched out feet and the opposite shoulder. “Yes, that’s the one. He’s my roommate, too. He was yelling at me the other night because he thought I was, I don’t know, like, taking advantage of you.” The blonde was staring at his hands, not sure why he was here or why he was telling Michael this. “I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t making you feel that way, or anything.”