L u k e
I walked into me and Michael's bedroom, and began getting ready for bed. I put on his Metallica tank top, with my long grey socks, leaving the shirt to barely cover my pink panties.
After I combed out my hair, and brushed my teeth, I walked to Michael's in-home art studio where he's been for the entire day.
He's been working on something, and I try not to disturb him because sometimes he can get a little annoyed when things don't go his way, or he messes up on what he's working on, and I don't want him to snap at me. But, I'm very tired, and I can't go to sleep without him.
I knocked quietly on the door, and opened it at the same time slowly.
"What Luke?" He asked, and it sounded like he was stressed out.
"Michael, it's past midnight." I said, and bit my fingernail. He didn't even look back at me, and shook his head. "Then go to bed." He said, and sounded angry with me.
"Please come with me." I said quietly.
"Luke, shut up, and just go, okay?" He snapped. I crossed one arm over my stomach, and decided if I should just leave, or ask him what's wrong.
"Michael, are you okay? What's wrong?" I asked, and he slammed his pencil on the table.
"What's wrong?! What's wrong is that you can't see I'm busy. Go!" He yelled as loud as he could, and I jumped, quickly running out of the room, closing the door behind me.
I ran to our bedroom, and turned off the light.
I laid in the center of the bed, holding a pillow to my chest as I laid buried under the blankets.
Michael has never yelled at me like that before.
He's gotten annoyed, and said some choice words before, but he's never yelled at me. It takes a lot to make Michael raise his voice like that, so I must've really annoyed him tonight.
I held the pillow as close to me as I could. I muffled my sobs, not wanting to cry over this. I didn't do anything. He was just exhausted, and he didn't mean it. I know he didn't mean it.
"Luke?" I heard, so I stayed silent, trying to dry up my tears. He walked over to me, and I felt him sit down on the bed. I looked up, and he placed his hand on my cheek, making me flinch. He leaned down slowly, and placed a kiss to my forehead.
"I'm so sorry." He whispered. I sat up, and crawled onto his lap, hugging him tightly. I laid my head down on his shoulder, and he rubbed my back.
"I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, Luke." He whispered, and I shook my head. "You didn't. It just scared me." I said softly, and he ran his hand up the back of my shirt.
"You want to see what I was working on?" He asked, and I nodded. I turned and sat sideways on his lap while he leaned down to grab his canvas. He held it in front of me.
I always loved looking at Michael's work because he's unbelievably amazing, but this time instead of mostly meaning something to him, this meant something to me. He made this for us.
Me and Michael were standing in the middle, and there were crowds of people on both sides of us, grabbing onto our shirts, trying to pull us away from each other, but we stood together, his hands on my waist, and my hands gripping his biceps as we kissed.
Before I moved in with Michael, our families did not like us being together. My family didn't like me being gay, and Michael's family did not like me at all. They thought because I wore girl clothes I was a little cock slut, and I could never actually love Michael. I just wanted his body, according to them.
I looked back at him, and kissed his lips quickly.
"That's so beautiful, Michael. I love it." I said, and kissed his face all over. He laid it down on the bed, and pulled me back over to straddle his lap. I pushed him backwards so he was laying down.
I kissed his neck up and down while his hands traveled further down. He quickly flipped us over, and attached his lips to my neck. I ran my hands through his hair, and tugged on the ends.
"Michael." I whispered, and closed my eyes, arching my back up to feel him more.
"I love you so, so, so much. You're so beautiful, baby." He whispered into my neck, and held me on my back. He moved between my legs, and laid down, causing me to let out a long, drawn out moan.
"You like that baby girl?" He whispered in my neck, making me whimper at the pet name. I tugged on his hair again, and threw my head back into the pillows.
Make up sex is the best sex
