Michael grimaces as he hears an annoying, very familiar noise which drags him slowly out of a deep sleep. Turning to his left towards the sound, he rolls over, stretching an arm out of the covers to turn the alarm off and then collapses back, sighing as he does so.
A hand arrives on his left shoulder, a very warm hand which makes it's way over his chest, and he turns towards it automatically, still more than half asleep, snuggling into the welcome warmth of the body next to him.
Body next to him.
Opening his eyes quickly at the same time as raising his head off the pillow, Michael looks down at the blonde haired boy lying next to him who slowly opens his eyes and smiles at him.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" He asks groggily and more than a little irritably.
"You said I could stay."
The disappointment expressed in both Luke's face and his body language doesn't seem to affect Michael in any way. This isn't how Luke thought it was going to be. He'd woken first, only a little before Michael, but it was enough time for him to fantasise about how they'd wake up together and how they'd have early morning sex and how they'd make plans to see each other again and how...
"Right, your parents." It's the way Michael says it, in a mocking condescending manner, that sends an instant worry message to Luke's brain and heart. "They think you're at a friends."
Sitting up slowly, Michael puts up a hand over his eyes to protect them from the very bright early morning light that's shining in from the unprotected windows.
"Jesus Christ, what the hell happened?"
The apartment, that was pristine when Luke had walked into it for the first time the previous evening, looked trashed. Furniture, that had previously been carefully and aesthetically placed, was now turned over or piled on top of each other, with window blinds pulled every which way. The place is a fucking mess. Luke starts to smile again, turning to Michael, wanting to tell him the story but is halted by Michael's raised finger.
"Don't tell me. I was doing handstands."
"And juggling. You're not very good."
"Shit. Why do I do these things?" Michael asks himself, groaning softly as he rolls his neck to get the kinks out. "I'll tell you why, it was that fucking pig Rosita. She told me that was E. That wasn't E, that was some shit they cooked up in a bathtub out in Woop Woop."
Luke can't help himself; it had been funny to watch Michael's antics last night, but now all he feels is deflated about his stupid fantasy of waking up with the man of his dreams compared to this current reality, so he opens his mouth and regrets it instantly.
"They say you shouldn't take drugs that aren't prescribed by a licensed GP or recommended by a reliable pharmacist." Shit, he sounds condescending, even to himself.
Michael can't quite believe his ears. Who the hell is this kid that he brought home last night? Spluttering sarcastically, he mocks Luke, "What the hell are you? A public service announcement? Get dressed, I'll drive you home." Michael grimaces as he tries to sit up; shit, exactly how many handstands did he do last night?
"You can't, Calum has the car."
"Why's he got it?"
"You were too high..."
Michael cuts Luke off, again with the finger. "I know what happened. I was there, I remember everything...perfectly."
Whilst Michael was talking, or rather lecturing Luke, he'd turned slightly towards him, the bed sheets falling down to his waist exposing the lithe lines of his body that Luke had been so admiring of last night. A flutter awakens in Luke again, a brief flash of hope that his daydreams are going to come true, that he will get the morning after that he's been waiting for, only for everything to be dashed once more as soon as Michael opens his beautiful mouth.
YOU ARE READING
Queer as Muke
Fanfiction"The thing you need to know is, it's all about sex. It's true. In fact they say men think about sex every twenty-eight seconds. Of course that's straight men. With gay men it's every nine." Twenty nine year old advertising executive Michael Cliffor...
