we don't care [muke af]

three

three

unedited

Michael sang loudly to The Front Bottoms as Luke sat at his kitchen table, trying to finish that last of his homework. He continued to laugh at his boyfriend screeching lyrics at the top of his lungs.

He wasn't sure if Mike's neighbors hated him for the yelling of lyrics, the loud groans of Luke at 3 in the morning, or the constant burn of food.

Like right now.

"Dammit, I burnt it again!" Michael pouted, pulling the pan from the stove.

"Just cook dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets, that's all I want." Luke closed a textbook, pushing it across the table and away from his view.

"What time am I supposed to get you to the library?"

"Mom is picking me up from there at 5:30, so let's aim 5:15."

Michael wandered to his freezer, pulling out the chicken nuggets he got just for Luke. "You know what would be so nice?"

"Don't say it."

"If you could drive." Michael turned around with a smirk just in time to see the glare lining Luke's eyes.

"You suck, so much."

He pursed his lips, "You of all people would know." He placed the frozen food in the oven, letting it heat up. He made his way back to the kitchen table, sitting next to his boyfriend. "What're you working on?"

"French."

"Je ne savais pas que vous parliez français," Michael spoke, his eyes going over the homework sheet.

"What?"

"Oh, my God. How are you in AP French?" Mike took the paper from him, holding it closer to his eyes. "Jesus, Luke. You didn't even conjugate any of these. Are you failing?"

"It's a C, a passing C."

Michael took the pencil from him, erasing the entire first line. "I swear, I have no idea how you got into college."

"Don't talk about it." Luke stood up, checking on their dinner. He went through the pantry, pulling out pasta and preparing the stove once more. This section of the loft smelled like smoke after Michael's many failed attempts at trying to cook.

"I'm doing your homework for you," he informed the blonde.
"Good." He left their food cook and went back to Michael. He slithered between Michael's lap and the table, his hands around Mike's neck. He straddled his waist, whining when Michael didn't give him attention.

"Stop, I'm working."

"On my homework."

Mike laughed as he looked up. He leant in quickly, kissing the peak of Luke's hairless chin. "You're so cute."

He laughed, turned around to see Michael still working on the French worksheet. "I can't wait until we can go on real dates and stuff."

"Yeah," Mike agreed, "Just give it a bit. Soon, my darling, soon."

Luke stood up, gathering their early dinner onto serving plates.

Michael and Luke got together last year. The tension between the two throughout all of Luke's tenth grade year was strong, and one day it exploded. One day, their lips met in the middle and neither pulled apart. One day, Michael had his hand crawling over Luke's body, and Luke said yes. Luke egged him on, Luke always egged him on.

They ate in silence, Michael finishing Luke's homework like the school nerd he seemed to constantly be. Michael became a teacher because he loved school.

Luke stirred his meal around, not in the mood to eat anymore. It's the words Ashton said circulating his mind. Maybe his best friend was right. Maybe it was wrong to be messing around with a thirty year old, especially when Luke isn't even eighteen, yet.

Mentally, Luke doesn't feel eighteen. He feels much older and sometimes needs to be dragged down in order to realize he was still a child.

"You alright?"

Luke looked up, seeing Mike put away Luke's books and finish off his dinner. "Yeah," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You sure?"

Luke's fork hit against the ceramic bowl as tears he'd been holding in started to fall down. "No," he said, his body shaking as he hid his face in his hands, "I'm scared." He suddenly cracked in front of Michael and he couldn't control it.

Michael stood up, circling the table and wrapping his arms around the smaller boy. He tried shushing him, his fingers running over the seam of Luke's tee shirt. "No, no, no. Why're you scared?"

"I'm a child," he cried out, "A fucking child."

Michael held him closer, ignoring the aching in his knees from squatting so low. "Why is that scary?"

Luke raised his head, giving up on hiding his ugly crying face. "What if we get caught? It could ruin your life, Mikey," he whimpered. He wiped at his eyes, swallowing a lump in his throat that felt like knives.

Mike held him closer, pressing his lips to the side of Luke's neck. "Then it happens, that's okay."

"It's not okay! Can you please react for once in your life?!"

Michael didn't raise his voice, didn't express his opinions, very rarely said no to Luke. He didn't have much of a negative emotional side. He just wanted to see the blonde lad smile like the sunshine he truly is.

He stood up, standing behind Luke. He pressed his hands into Luke's shoulders, his fingers rubbing over the tense muscles. "It will always be okay, Luke, yeah? It's me and you, and it's me and you forever. There's nothing you need to worry about."

Luke's body shook as another wave of tears came flowing through his body. He cried and cried because he felt like he was exploding. It was all the frights he's been keeping in the back of his head finally came out to see the daylight.

"W—What're we supposed to do when I'm finally legal? Surprise, Mom, I'm fucking my teacher? You think she's gonna find that funny?"

Michael sighed. "I don't know, I'm sorry."

"We have three months left, what if something happens? Even after I'm legal, we'll still get shit. You're not gonna wanna talk about me to the other teachers. It's embarrassing."

"It's not embarrassing," he reassured him, "I'm in love."

"Are you?" Luke asked, his voice hoarse.

"So in love," Michael promised, "So in love with you."