Dynasty Decapitated

I'm Wishing You're Here But I'm Wishing You're Gone

((HO HOOOO ITS BEEN A WHILE. I'M SORRY DON'T YELL AT ME.

Title from Shots by Imagine Dragons (specifically the Broiler remix because I hate myself)

Luv u

-Mel))

Luke's fingers are gentle when they brush against Michael's throat. He gently picks at the tight suit until he catches an edge, so he can peel the mask up slowly, making sure Michael stays in place. He doesn't squirm until Luke pulls the mask up to his nose, so he stops, pushes it up more carefully, and smiles at the older boy.

“Wanted you to stop there ‘cause it's perfect blow job height,” Michael tells him. Luke ignores him and swipes his thumb across Michael's bottom lip smoothly.

The mask is pushed just under his nose, so Luke can cup his jaw with both hands and hold the fabric in place with his thumbs. “I love you. Most of the time,” Luke tells him. “And I know you don't, but I love your face. You're- you're cute as fuck, dude.”

Michael quirks an eyebrow at his ineloquent boyfriend, making sure Luke can see the expression through the mask. “Thanks.” Luke pinches his cheek. It doesn't hurt, but Michael still flinches because he pissed off Luke, apparently. “Uh, I mean, I love you too. Bro?”

Luke pushes the mask up more firmly, nearly breaking Michael's nose with his thumbs, and leans forward. He lets his lips hover over Michael's because they always, always, need to have consent for even the smallest things. Michael smiles fondly at his dumb blonde boy and leans in to slot their lips together. Luke's fingers tighten on his jaw and his eyelashes flutter shut as he falls forward, into Michael's chest even more. 

“I need to fix your mask,” Luke pulls away and brushes his nose against the bump of Michael's under the fabric. Not that Michael (or Luke, frankly) will admit it, but he loves this sappy shit. He loves when Luke gives him butterfly kisses and rubs their noses together and takes care of him. But, still, he has a reputation to uphold and his ability to handle sappy shit without crying or kissing his dumb cute boyfriend is quickly diminishing. He pulls his head back enough so their noses aren't touching anymore and allows Luke to assess the damage.

There's several holes shot through Michael's suit, bare, blood flaked skin underneath, and a long hole torn through the left arm. Luke looks frustrated at the sight.

“Why can't you get a suit that repairs itself? They have those, Calum has one,” Luke tells him, like Michael should know what kind of fabric Calum puts on himself. Calum probably doesn't even know what fabric he puts on himself. Michael is willing to bet his entire life savings that Ashton dresses the stupid spider- probably designed the suit and the fabric, too.

“I don't think that's a thing,” Michael decides. He vividly remembers ripping a hole in Calum's suit, right over his chest, to piss him off. “I'm positive that's not a thing.”

Luke clicks his tongue and nods; apparently,  they're stupid sappy moment is over. “It's a thing. I'll ask Ashton, we're getting coffee later.”

Michael nudges him and smiles lightly, then remembers the mask isn't over his mouth to cover his fond, in love expression, and schools his face back into an impartial look. Luke, obviously, notices and grins. “Don't get kidnapped. I'm too busy to save you today.”

“Like you fucking would,” Luke snorts. He starts reaching behind Michael and fumbling around on the kitchen table, leaning into his masked boyfriend slightly. “You'd probably finish the season of My Name is Earl you're on before coming to look for me.”