we don't care [muke af]

five

five

School was constantly hard. Luke had less than a month left, and he was anxious for the end. The anxiety rising through his veins and boiling his brain constantly made him sick.

It makes his stomach churn, losing any meal he's had for a week. It makes his head pound, making it hard to even rise from bed. It makes his body break into sweats, yet he still felt cold.

"You'll be good home alone?" Luke's mother asked, the back of her hand on her youngest son's forehead.

He nodded, keeping his eyes closed. "Mom, I'm almost eighteen."

"You're still my baby," she cooed. She took her hand from his head, taking a step back to look over Luke. He looked weak, his head squashed between three pillows. He cowered into the sheets even though the red blush on his cheeks signified his overheating body. "I'll be back around 5, your brother should be home around 2. Stay safe, don't open the door to anyone."

"Bye, Mom."

He let his eyes rest, the watering around the bottom lid practically impossible to stop. His eyes simply became so dry when he became ill. It hurt to stay awake.

Luke picked up his phone—probably the worse thing to do for his sick state of mind and body. He ignored other notifications, going straight to his messages.

To / Mikey

Come over

He turned on his vibration and rested his phone on his chest. His eyes closed once more as his breathing stayed slow.

From / Mikey

I'm teaching Honors Algebra until 10:45. I'll pick up something good then be there around 11. Is anyone else home?

Michael put down his phone, letting it rest with full volume on his desk. The perks of being a teacher in the academic union is they can do literally anything. His students can't complain about anything he does nor says.

He stood back at the front of the class, flipping through papers and handing a stack to the kid next to him. "Your homework is being passed around right now," he paused as exaggerated sighs flew across the classroom. "Listen: I'm the one who has to grade all of your failing papers. Feel bad for me."

From / Lukey

No one's home until 2, Ben's always late though.

From / Mikey

Your brother?

From / Lukey

No, my other boyfriend, you idiot.

Michael picked up his phone, smiling down at the text. He left it open, knowing it'd annoy Luke with the Read sign at the bottom of the text but no response.

A few minutes past eleven, Michael kept his promise. He let himself in—with the help of the garage code—and headed up to the room he knew fairly well.

Luke was sound asleep, his phone still open in his hand. His nose was an irritated red as his mouth laid open.

Michael placed the Panera on his side dresser as he sat himself on the end of Luke's bed. He placed a hand on Luke's knee, slowly shaking him awake. He watched the blonde's eyelids flutter open as his blue eyes scanned the room.

He stretched out, groaning as his spine cracked and muscles ached. He kicked his feet from the blankets, resting his ankles on Michael's lap.

"Well, hi there," Mike greeted.

He turned to the right, spotting his early lunch. He sat up, eager for food.

"You just love me for food, don't you?"

Luke nodded, digging through the bag for his mac and cheese and plain bagel. Michael knew his order, Michael practically knew Luke better than Luke knew Luke.

He started to eat his own food, his legs crossed underneath his body as he tossed the bag back to Michael, letting him get his own asiago cheese bagel.

"You feeling any better?"

Luke shrugged his shoulders as he took another bite of his meal. He suddenly became aware that he was a mess. He was in boxer shorts two days old, a tee shirt that smelled even older. He hadn't put on deodorant nor cologne since he first started to vomit out his stomach. He scooted further away from Michael, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"I don't really feel that sick. I think I'm just tired."

Mike looked up at him, scanning over his sunken eyes and pale color. "You look a little sick, just sleep it off."

Luke stirred around the cup in his hand, "Sorry to change topics, but are you ever, like, scared to sneak around?"

It was now Michael's turn to shrug his broad shoulders. "Yeah, all the time. It's scary sneaking around." He tore apart the pastry in his hands, slowly eating it without looking up at his boyfriend. "It's worth it, though, don't get me wrong."

"I can't figure out how to even approach my parents. Even after I'm legal and all. I want to be open with them about us, but I don't want it to turn out negative." Luke relaxed back in his bed, trying not to spill his meal. "I know you're an adult an all, but have you told your parents?"

He nodded. "They know about you."

"Really?"

"They don't approve, but they're still talking to me so it's alright." Michael put the empty bag on the ground, pushing himself up and crawling next to Luke. He loosened his tie, giving him more room to breathe.

"Do you think my parents would be the same?"

"I'm not sure. I've never met your dad, would be try to beat me up?"

Luke laughed and shook his head. "No, Dad doesn't talk much. I think you'd intimidate him more than he could ever intimidate you."

"What about your brothers? Would they try to cut off my dick or something?" Michael rested his head against Luke's lower torso, pressing a kiss to his warm stomach.

"They might," he joked. He wrapped his arm around his boyfriend, letting him take a quick rest before going back to work. "We're gonna live happy ever after, right? Like some fucking fairy tale?"

Michael nodded. "Yeah, for sure. You're gonna graduate in a month. I'm gonna keep being a fucking math teacher. Do you wanna have kids?"

"No, kids are annoying."

Mike laughed. "I agree on that one." He rested his arm around Luke's waist, nuzzling his face deeper upon the radiating warmth of the smaller boy. "So, we'll get a house and a dog and it'll all be alright. We won't need to hide anymore."