School Spirit | Muke/Cashton✔

Thirty Three

Michael's P.O.V

"Hey," I greeted as Luke came up to my locker. He looked around before slightly leaning down to my ear, whispering:

"Come over to my house tonight, my dad wants to know why I've been able to sleep pretty well lately."

I looked up at him with a grin. "You can sleep better now because of me?"

"No more insomnia," he said softly, smiling down at me, catching me off guard a little.

When people started to stare, I knew exactly why.

1. They may have seen Luke talk.

2. I was actually smiling.

3. Luke was actually smiling.

4. We were two boys smiling at each other with heart-eyes.

5. A few probably knew we were sort of a thing.

Sort of a thing... Note to self: ask Luke out properly.

Luke's P.O.V

I was taken out of my cooking when a series of loud and constant knocks irrupted from the front door. I turned the burner on low quickly and went to see who it was.

"Michael, what happened?" I gasped when opening it, seeing Michael standing there bruised from head to toe.

"My-My dad," he breathed, gripping the door frame to stay on his feet.

I grabbed him, helping him inside and onto the couch. "What did he do? Where does it hurt the most? Did he use any object or-"

"Luke?" My rambling was stopped when my father came down the stairs, frowning at us when he saw my worried state and Michael's painful one. "Who's this?"

"It's Michael," I answered him quickly, too worried to even give him my full attention.

"This is the Michael?" I nodded. "What happened?"

Michael surprised me when he actually spoke up. "M-My dad... he, uh, he beats me," Michael sighed, holding back a choked sob, making me gently wrap him up in my arms and start to rock him back and forth.

My father just stood there, unsure of what to do. "Is there anything I can do for you?

Michael pulled away from me, sniffling. "C-Can I-I just stay here for a bit?"

"Sure, whatever you'd like. You can even stay here for a couple of nights if you want?" My dad offered.

"Thank you. T-That's very nice of you."

~*~

After dinner I took Michael up to my room. "Take your shirt off," I instructed.

"What?"

"Take your shirt off," I repeated. "I want to see them." Michael obliged, knowing them meant the marks that his father had left.

I sighed, rubbing my cold fingers down his chest. "Oh, Mike."

"Yeah, I know: they're really bad," he mumbled, sitting down on my bed.

I sat down next to him, taking his small hand and rubbing my thumb over his knuckles. "Remember when you first showed me your bruises?"

"Yeah."

"Do you regret it?"

Michael paused, thinking about it. "In a way, yes, but in another, no."

"What do you mean?" I questioned, leaning my head onto his shoulder.

"No, because I trust you more than anyone at this point. Yes, also because of the same reason. Every time I had decided to trust someone in the past they always ended up screwing me over. It took me years just to get where I am with Sara today. But then you just come in and change everything." He shrugged.

I thought for a moment, hesitating saying what was on my mind. "Michael, move in with me."

"What?" Michael furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What do you mean? Like move in with you here?"

I chuckled lightly. "Where else would we move; I'm broke."

"But why?"

"Why am I broke?"

"No, you little shit, why do you suddenly just want me to move in with you?" Michael asked, staring into my eyes.

"Because Mikey, your home isn't a home anymore, it's pretty clear. There would be no worries here, no fears, no pain," I told him, caressing his bruised cheek.

"What if our feelings for each other are lost?" Michael sighed, unsure how to react fully to my question.

"I've never felt like this. Michael, you're the reason I can actually sleep at night. If it wasn't for you, I'd probably be a full-on zombie by now."

"Wouldn't your dad mind, though?"

"He's never here anyway."

"Okay... yeah, yeah I'll move in with you," Michael agreed, a grin creeping onto his face as I leaned in, connecting our lips and moving them in sync with each other. I easily opened his mouth, slipping my tongue in as he pushed me down on the bed.