star wars [muke]

chapter twenty four

BUT MY TASTE IN MUSIC IS YOUR FACE :-)

A slurred laugh escaped Michael's mouth as Calum slung a hand around his shoulder. The trio (Calum, Ashton, and Michael) had went out, courtesy to Calum. He said he wanted to apologize, the red headed boy had no idea why he would apologize to him, he owed Luke an apology; he just shrugged it off and tugged on a flannel and met him at one of the only bars that had a accepted his fake I.D. 

So, they had some fun (not like that), it was mostly Calum and Ashton teasing Michael and asking about his relationship. He had a perfectly fine time. He stumbled home, completely wasted and fell on the sidewalk a couple of times but he still got there.

Michael had told Luke he was spending the night out with his family. He had figured this one out. Rule one: don't ever lie to your boyfriend. He'll always find out the truth. Always.

He swears that hangovers are the reason Luke found out he was drinking, not that he was hanging with Calum and Ashton. If he found out he'd be absolutely furious. Well, that turned to shit too.

Anyways, Saturday morning hurt like a bitch, Michael threw up a few times and stumbled down his staircase and into the kitchen to be met with his blond headed boyfriend, ears tinted pink and a scowl on his face. Michael's face paled from the light shade of green it was turning. He was fucked. Absolutely and utterly fucked.

Luke's thick hair was messy and wild as he crossed his hands over his Metallica shirt and sat down at the island counter. "So, how was your night, Mr. Clifford." It was confirmed: fucked.

"Uh, here?" Michael winced, throwing two pain killers in his mouth and ducking under the sink to get a gulp of water.

"Are you sure?" He glanced at his boyfriend, peeling a orange and pulling it apart.

"Well," Michael groaned, leaning up against the counter, rubbing at his eyes as Luke ran his fingers through the greasy mess of hair that sat on the boy's head. "I went out with some friends."

"I know."

"You do? I'm super sorry, Lukey. Please forgive me my king."

"I know now, idiot. I don't care if you go out, but next time don't let it be Calum or Ashton, Sweetie." He growled, hopping down and planting a kiss on his lips. "I'm going home to binge watch Marriage Bootcamp and sulk in my room. Bye, loser."

"What did I ever do to receive this type of abuse," Michael whined, padding behind the blond to the door. "Forgive me."

"Take a shower."

"Or, you could take one with a me."

"Okay." Luke grinned, letting Michael carry him all the way up the stairs, bridal style. He only had to stop three times because Luke's legs kept hitting the wall, ("Seriously, I'm gonna fall over this railing with your abnormally giraffe legs.")

They did end up taking a shower, soap got in Luke's eyes when he tried to give Michael a blowjob. He cried for twenty minutes.