vegas ➳ muke

nine

Michael had been stood in front of the mirror adjusting his fringe for the past ten minutes. He was naturally self conscious, but it wasn't everyday that he and Luke had the opportunity to go out. Especially not on a proper date.

But that morning when Michael woke, a dozen white roses were propped in a vase on the bedside table. A scrap of paper hanging from the blue ribbon read 'will you go on a date with me?' in Luke's messy scrawl. Michael had squealed 'yes' several times, although he couldn't psychically see the other boy.

And now, that evening, Michael couldn't decide if he looked well enough to go out. He had dressed himself in a pair of black skinny jeans, a Blink 182 tee, and his favorite pair of Vans. He didn't have the slightest clue where the pair were going, but he had been instructed to dress casual.

Luke came out of the bathroom, dressed remotely similar despite for his button down flannel. Michael gapped at the view, his jaw practically resting on the floor. Luke smirked, biting his lip.

"You look amazing," Michael stated, approaching the blond and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Luke smiled, "Are you ready?"

Michael nodded shyly in agreement.

The pair decided against driving and opted to walk to the location. Michael thought it was romantic, holding hands with his lover under all the Vegas lights. Luke was just all around happy.

Michael genuinely looked well. His skin had gained slight color, his eyes were more alert. But most of all, Michael was sober. And Luke could not have been more grateful.

Luke opened the door of the restaurant for the older boy, who blushed as he stepped inside. The place was nice, but not overly nice. Luke chose somewhere casual, where he was certain the other customers wouldn't pay any mind to them. He wanted Michael to feel as comfortable as possible.

The waitress led the two into the rear of the building, setting them up with a private table upon Luke's request. They ordered drinks, non-alcoholic, and shared small talk as they studied the menu.

"You can order anything you want," Luke pressed, hoping that Michael would eat something, anything really.

Michael just smiled, staring at the menu to avoid meeting Luke's gaze. He was hungry, very hungry, but he also felt fat. His skinny jeans hugged his legs a little too tight, his shirt defined his features.

"Do you see that, Michael? They have Chicken Alfredo on the menu."

Luke knew just how to work Michael's thoughts. Near the start of their relationship, Michael was an avid eater. And when the pair went out, Michael always requested Italian for one reason. Chicken Alfredo. The boy could put down pounds of it if given the opportunity. But then, things changed, and Luke couldn't recall the last time the other had eaten it.

"I'm not sure I'm hungry enough for all that. The portions are big," Michael informed, looking up to meet Luke's gaze.

But Michael did decide to order the dish. And when it came, Michael ate until he couldn't fit another bite. He had cleared the plate and Luke felt like cheering. He had never been so proud.

After dinner, Michael suggested they take the scenic route back to the hotel. Luke couldn't tell if Michael had wanted to burn calories or enjoy the view of Vegas. He hoped for the latter.

"The lights are so beautiful," Michael said in awe.

Luke squeezed his hand, "They remind me of you. So bright. So mesmerizing... So alive."