we don't care [muke af]

two

two

"Ashton, this is literally child abuse," Luke inquired. He kicked his feet back and forth on his bed as they went over their AP French project.

"This isn't child abuse, Dimwit. This is school."

Luke pretended to vomit, "This is hell."

"We have like a month left, I'm so sick of you," he joked around. Ashton sat up, gathering his hair into a small bun on the top of his head. "You excited for college? Or are you still content on your gap year?"

"No," he groaned, "College sucks. I'm dropping out of everything." Luke rolled onto his back, wiggling his phone out of his pocket and reading through his missed notifications. His thumb scrolled through text messages from Michael, skimming over key words.

"But there are going to be so many people, my pansexual heart is screaming," he continued, not caring that Luke wasn't listening.

He closed his laptop, knowing Luke wasn't going to help much with the project anyways. Even though they've taken four years of French, Luke knew nothing. Ashton already accepted that he was going to be doing the entire project by himself.

"That's so gay," he said, his response delayed by an odd thirty seconds.

"What're you doing that's more important than me?" Ashton zipped up his leather satchel and retied his loose shoe lace.

"Nothing," the younger-by a week-boy answered. He turned off his phone, throwing it onto his nightstand.

Ashton stretched out, his toned chest poking through the thin muscle tee cladding his body. "I should get going soon," he said with a yawn, "I have to babysit the younger ones-," he paused, looking down at Luke's phone.

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked between Luke and Luke's phone a few times.

He lowered his voice, knowing Luke's eldest brother was across the hall. "You're still fucking with your teacher?" Ashton asked, a disgusted undertone fell under every word.

A vermillion shade enchanted his pale cheeks as he tried to deny it. "No," he lied, "I stopped that way back in tenth grade."

Ashton crossed his arms over his torso. "You didn't kiss him until eleventh grade," he pointed out.

"Did I say tenth? I meant eleventh."

"Dude, what the hell? I'm your best friend, you're supposed to tell me this stuff!"

Luke sat up, crossing his legs underneath his body. "You'd get mad like you always do!"

"I'm mad because you're fucking a thirty-year-old teacher!" He whisper-shouted. Ashton stood up straighter, rolling his eyes. "I can't believe you right now."

Luke started to lean over, reaching for his phone. "Okay, Ash."

Ashton picked up his bag with a huff. "Are you serious right now? He's practically your father, Luke."

The blonde tried really hard not to make a nerdy Star Wars joke. "How many twelve-year-old fathers do you know?"

"Luke!"

"I'm just sticking to the facts!"

"This is illegal, Luke."

He shrugged his shoulders, "So is weed but here you are getting high every night."

It was using all of Ashton's will power not to lean over and punch the sly smile off of his friends face. "Weed and non consensual sex are two very different things!"

"It's consensual!"

"You're a minor! No, it's not!" His voice finally rose above their whisper-yelling fight.

Luke just really wanted Ashton to leave now. "This why I don't tell you anything!"

Ash opened his bedroom door, completely not in the mood to deal with the boy at the moment. He barged down the stairs, letting himself out of the Hemmings house.

Luke laid down in his bed, resting his head between the many pillows. He rested his fingers on top of his stomach, tapping a rhythm out on his hipbones.

He didn't know what he was feeling, but he wasn't feeling good.