the last brushstroke destroys the painting [muke af]

twenty six +

twenty six +

Michael rolled his hips, Luke yelled out in pleasure. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there, right there." He arched his back as Michael lowered down more on Luke's length. His hands lay flat on Luke's stomach, giving him height to grind down rougher.

Luke panted, his breath falling out of his lungs with every movement Michael made. He has never felt this much pleasure shaking over his body. "You look so good on me, Princess. So, so, good." Luke's darkened blue eyes were barely able to stay open as Michael sped up his pace.

Mike quite liked how vocal Luke seemed to be in bed. It was much different than his usual quiet persona.

Michael leant down, his lips leaving bruises on Luke's chest. "I love you," he whispered. His nose fell to the crook of Luke's neck, his mouth biting down quickly as he began to release over their sweating bodies.

Luke screamed out, his body shaking. He screamed the younger boy's name as he came inside of him. "I love you," he said, "Fuck, I love you and your fucking body."

Michael collapsed on top of him, his arms falling to the pillow behind Luke's head. Their breathing was fast, words unable to form in either of their throats.

Luke wrapped his arms around Michael's shoulder as he hid a smile on his face. He held Mike close, kissing the shell of his ear. "So good, Baby Boy, so good."

Michael kissed his neck before rolling off of him. He took the corner of his bedsheets, wiping off Luke's stomach of their reminisce. He threw the blanket on the ground, pulling up the under-sheet to their chests.

Luke cuddled into the pillows that smelled of him more than Michael. He spends so much time in his bed. He turned on his side, his eyes batting to look at the younger boy. "Hi."

Michael laughed. "You're so fucking weird."

Luke analyzed his face, he never wanted to forget Michael's features. He never wanted his enchanting green eyes to leave his memory.

Michael cuddled into his own pillow, making himself comfortable on his sheets. "If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

Luke turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling above him. He bit his lip, chewing on the skin. "France. I want to paint there, hundred of canvases at once. I think that'd be nice."

Luke knew that wasn't going to happen, though. He could feel it, he could feel the end.

"I could make that happen. I'd do anything for you," Michael said with stars in his eyes.

Luke rolled his eyes, though. "Okay, Mikey."

Michael scooted closer, his junk pressed tight against Luke's thigh, making the blonde laugh. Mike pressed his lips to Luke's collarbones. "Don't roll your eyes at me, I'm being cute and honest."

Luke turned his head, pecking at Michael's lips. "Okay, I want to sleep, though."

Michael brushed his head into the crook of Luke's neck, his hair tickling the warm skin of Luke. "Promise you'll still be here in the morning?"

"I promise, Mike. Love you."

"I love you, too, Luke. I really do."