"Luke, get the fuck off me!"
Michael and Luke had been best friends since the two met in elementary school, fourth grade. Now they were twenty one and twenty two, laying in Michael's room, the window open wide to clear out the smell of Luke's disgusting aftershave. Luke had his arms around the other, which left Michael squirming to get out of his grip, the room filling with laughter from both mouths.
"Why would I ever want to get off of you? You're comfy, and you obviously just love having me on top of you," Luke laughed to himself as he let his head bury against the crook of the others neck, peppering soft kisses against the skin, looking up at what he could of Michael through his eyelashes, "You said so yourself, remember."
"Did I fuck say that!" Michael was quick to retaliate and become defensive, his hands immediately shoving the other in an attempt to get him off, but nothing would work, "When have I ever fucking said that?"
"Give me a fuckin' minute," Luke immediately sat up as he spoke, mocking Michael's curses as he did so, grabbing his phone from the others bedside table, unlocking it and clicking onto the messages between them.
It took a minute of scrolling up through messages - the two messaged each other almost every minute they weren't together (which wasn't very often).
"Ahh, here we go," Luke started, clearing his throat.
"Don't you fucking dare embarrass me like this," Michael groaned and he sat up, reaching for the others phone, but groaning as he missed.
"Embarrass you by doing what? Reading out the dirty messages you send me? I would never," Luke laughed and he looked back down at his phone, taking a heavy breath, "But let me tell you, Michael Clifford, there are some unspeakable things I'd love for you to do to me, especially things you've mentioned."
"Luke! That's enough of that," Michael rolled his eyes and he sat up properly, grabbing the others phone, locking it and putting it back down onto the bedside table, before he laid back down on the bed. "How is it my fault that I like spending time with you, sexually and romantically and platonically?"
"Are you trying to say that you love me, Michael Clifford?" Luke faked a gasp, and he let his hands move up in front of his mouth, shaking his head playfully, before he laid back down, but this time next to Michael.
"Luke, fuck off. You know I love you, I just don't want to fucking say it because you never say it back," Michael rolled his eyes and he turned to face the wall, letting his arms cross over his chest, a deep sigh leaving his lips.
"Hey, I only don't say it because it's gay!" Luke was now the one defending himself, sitting up, letting his hands rest on Michael's bicep, gently shaking him in an attempt to get him to turn back over.
"Luke, I don't know if you've realised or not yet, but it's a little fucking gay what we do. You've fucked me in the ass several times," Michael turned around as Luke wanted, rolling his eyes again, but letting one hand take the others.
"Right first of all, shut up! It's not my fault you're super fucking hot, okay?" Luke laughed a little, looking down at the sweet boy below him. "Second off, you know that I love you and stuff, but I just don't like saying it, okay? Get out my ass about it, I'll say it when I'm ready to,"
Luke rolled his eyes this time, laying back down, pressing a kiss to Michael's forehead, before he let his head rest against the pillow. The two laid facing each other, their fingers slowly tracing over each other. As Michael had his eyes closed, Luke couldn't bare to close his. How could he? He had the most beautiful man in front of him, and he wouldn't want it any other way. His soft pink-blonde hair, and his sweet green eyes. His large jumpers and sweatpants. His hands against his own.
Luke wouldn't want it any other way.
