Thorn Bush +Muke ✔

9

Michael woke up around noon, his head pounding and his fingers gripping unfamiliar sheets in an unfamiliar room.

Everything was in black, white and grey except for the band posters that littered the walls. He sat up and grabbed the pain reliever bottle from the bedside table.

He took a sip of water from the glass on the table. Standing up slowly, he caught sight of himself in the mirror in the bathroom that was connected to the room.

Michael's eyes were bloodshot and his hair was going in a million directions. A big, black shirt with an unfamiliar smiley face logo hung from the small boy's shoulders. Grey boxers loosely gripped his hips, going to his knees.

Stumbling down the hall, he listened to the guitar coming from downstairs. Once downstairs, he went into the living room and saw Luke strumming away on his acoustic.

"Hey, you're awake."

|Luke|

Michael gave me a small nod, holding the hem of my shirt in his small hands. He looked down and curled his lilac painted toes into the black carpet.

"Where are my clothes?" He asked.

"They're being washed." I said, putting my guitar on the black stand.

I stood up and stretched my arms over my head. I watched as Michael glanced up at the strip of skin on my stomach my shirt exposed when I stretched.

"Do you want breakfast? Calum and Ashton should be getting up soon." I said, heading for the kitchen.

He followed me but stopped for a moment, catching sight of himself in the metal toaster. His fingertip brushed against his neck as he tilted his head to look at the damage.

"What happened? I look like I got in a fight." Michael murmured to himself.

"Just a little fun. You should see your legs." I replied, putting my palms down on the counter and leaning forward.

He looked down, lifting the hem of the boxers up, spotting the dark marks. Michael sat down, wincing as he did so.

"You don't have to sit. I know it hurts, baby." I said.

He looked up at me, squirming in his seat uncomfortably. I knew that he understood what happened just probably didn't know what it was called.

The blond finally stood up, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he stared at the marble countertop.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

He shook his head, "Not really."

I sighed and went back into the living room. I flopped onto the couch and turned the tv on. Michael sat down towards the arm of couch while I stayed in the middle, right where I could put my feet up on the coffee table.

"Come here." I said, patting my lap.

He scooted over, moving to be about three or four inches away from me. I grabbed his hips and picked him up. Setting him down into my lap, I leaned back and wrapped my arms around his stomach.

Michael awkwardly twiddled with his fingers, watching the boring infomercial. I pulled him back and connected my lips to his neck.

He shivered under the contact, pulling away. I frowned and slid my hand up and down his goosebump-covered arms. Michael carefully leaned back again.

"You can, um..." He mumbled.

I smiled, bring my lips to the tinted flesh. I got his sweet spot and he let a small moan out. I knew he was holding it back from his flushed cheeks.

"Be loud, baby."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Luke works fast...
But will it last???

~Cookie Xx