thinking about you [muke af]

thirty two

thirty two

Luke leant down, cleaning up the many crayons laying on the table. It was a successful open house, kids were climbing on his shoulders and putting tiaras on his head. He lied when he said he didn't want to do this forever. Luke had the time of his life, he loves these children. 

Ms. Nancy, the main teacher, came over, giving him a friendly pat on the back. "You're a natural," she said, "You don't have any of your own?"

At first, he thought she was talking about the half broken crayons in his hands. That would've been embarrassing. "Er, no. I'm just out of college," he responded, putting more supplied in red, plastic bins. 

He stood up straight, towering over the sixty-year old women. Luke placed the bins in their right spot, redoing a few of them so they'd be in color order. 

"Do you have a lady at home?" She asked, pointing to the silver band on his fourth finger. 

He turned to her, shaking his head once more. "A guy, actually. He was supposed to be here, but he must be in the studio still."

"Oh, LA. Everyone is a musician," she laughed. 

Luke smiled, he liked Ms. Nancy with her dangling earrings and pink lipstick. She had a gentle voice, he felt like he should confess his sins every time she opens her mouth. "Yeah, I've lived here six years. All I hear is, 'I'm a musician, I sing, I write songs, I paint, I'm an artist'."

Ms. Nancy was pushing in a few miniature chairs under the small desks. Luke tried to sit in those chairs, but they were far too small for his bum and long legs. "You should get home to your man, I'm sure he's waiting."

He smiled, "I'll see you next week."

Michael laid in their bed, his eyes closed shut. His shoes were still on as well as his tight jeans and leather jacket. He was sweating to death in leather. He was so exhausted, he can't remember the last time he slept. Mike always thought recording would be the easiest part, he just had to show up. But, it took so much out of him. 

Calum and Ashton were in the living room watching a movie when Luke walked in. Cal automatically laughed, "Nice crown, Princess."

He tried to look at his forehead, feeling for the object in his hair. "It's called a tiara, Fucktard." Luke dumped his bag and keys by the door, marching up the stairs. His ankles and back were sore from all the bending down he had to do. He was replaying all the conversation with the students' parents he had today, cringing at the stupid things that came out of his mouth.

The bedroom door was open, the light on. His future husband laid upon the sheets like a starfish, his eyes closed, his breathing slow. Luke sighed, going to the end of the bed and untying his combat boots. 

Mike raised his head, "Oh, hey."

"Hard day?"

He shrugged, "Just tired. How was preschool?"

Luke liked the way he said that. It made him feel like he was in preschool again. He never wanted to grow up. "It was so much fun. The kids are so cute, I mentally cried a few times." He got off one of Mike's boots, starting to work on the other. 

Michael wiggled his toes, brushing his sock-clad feet against Luke's arm to make him laugh. "Sounds adorable, you lucky bastard."

Luke climbed on top of him, starting to unbuckle his belt and pop the metal button on his jeans. "There are these two twins—one's a girl, one's a boy—and they both wear matching tutus. And their parents are totally cool, like, fuck gender roles." He slid down the tight material, struggling around the heels of Mike's feet. 

Michael rested his hand over his eyes, the light from their bedside lamp hurting his dizzy head. He peaked over as Luke finally got off the jeans. The blonde looked so pleased with himself. "Sounds like a hippy school, I love it."

Luke stood up, sliding off his matching jeans and throwing it on the ground. He made sure his outfit was appropriate for school wear, even though the secretary had blue hair and two lip rings. 

He climbed back on top of Michael, straddling his waist. He pressed his cold hands to the patch of skin between his boxers and tee shirt. Mike flinched, letting out a chuckle. "What're you doing there, Baby?"

"Mikey, I want kids," Luke sighed. He ran his thumbs up and down Michael's sides, playing with the cotton shirt. 

Michael closed his eyes once more, rubbing his hands over his face. "I figured you would, but right now is the worst possible time. I'm not impregnating you, yet."

Luke leaned down, pressing his lips to Michael's chin, the rough stubble was something the blonde grew accustomed to. He rotated his hips, thrusting their clothed crotches together. "But, I'm gonna be so lonely without you."

"Get a cat or something."

He left a mark on the pale skin of his fiancé's neck, thrusting slowly on top of his body. "Come on, you know you want a baby."

"Not now, Luke." Michael moved his hands to Luke's waist, ushering him off and on to his side of the bed. Mike got under the thin sheet, turning off the side lamp. He laid on his side, his back to Luke. 

Luke jutted out his lip in rejection. He was closest to the wall, the only way out would be climbing over Michael's body. He sat up, jumping over the almost asleep body and standing on the wooden ground. 

He left the room, closing the bedroom door harshly behind him. 

Maybe he cock-blocked the couple on the living room couch by laying on top of them for an hour and a half, but he felt that it was necessary.  

(a/n) hahahah just finished writing the ending so much shit is gonna go down hahahahahahahhahahhahahahhUSKFJHHHHHAHAHHAhahahahahahha good luck, friends.