blondie [muke af]

eight

eight

Luke's hands shook, his knees wobbled, his teeth clattered. He held the papers in his hand, trying to get up the courage to knock on Michael's door. He doesn't know why he's still so scared to talk to the CEO. 

His cold hands picked at his tight leather pants, trying to get himself looking as good as he possibly can. Luke felt confident, and that's all that mattered.

He knocked softly, waiting for a reply. 

Michael wiped at his dry eyes, rubbing circles on his forehead. "One minute!" He yelled to the door. He turned back around in his chair, facing the skyline again. He pressed his phone back to his ear, "I'll be there in half an hour, just keep him calm for now," Michael told Cyril's school's dean.

A mumbled response came from the bulky phone as he threw it onto its cradle. He leant his elbows onto his desk once more, pressing the palms of his hands into his cheekbones. 

"Come in!" He groaned as he heard another impatient knock. 

Luke walked in as he rolled up one sleeve of his plaid crop top, the papers in his hands were folded over as he squeezed them in his hands. "Hi, Sir."

"What do you need?" Michael asked. He started typing in his computer password, not looking at the blonde.

"I have my resignation here," Luke whispered, placing the papers on top of a binder.

Michael nodded, not listening to the twenty-nine year old. He pulled up his email, going through the long list of people he probably did not care about.

"Michael, are you listening?" He looked at the older man with full concern. 

"Yeah, what do you need?" Mike asked again, finally looking up. 

"I'm quitting."

The dark-haired boy scrunched up his eyebrows. "Why? That's stupid," he scoffed, "I'm not accepting your resignation." Michael had so many things to deal with today, and Luke wasn't one of them.

Luke stopped playing with the paper clip on Mike's desk and stood up tall again. Michael almost laughed at his effort to become tough, "I wasn't asking. I'm giving you a month's notice."

"You've worked here for, like, one year, you can't just quit. That'll look bad on your résumé."

"Jesus, Michael, I've worked here for six years and you don't even know my last name," Luke pouted, kicking his white Keds against the dusty floors. He didn't know why Michael's office was in such a bad state. Every other part of the building was spotless, was happy. 

"Hemmings," Mike quickly responded, "Lucas Robert Hemmings." He sent one email, going through the reminders his secretary sent him last week. "Are you going to that conference in London next month?"

"No! I'm quitting!" Luke spoke with his hands, his golden rings almost falling off his slim fingers.

"No, you're not," he responded once more, closing out his files and shutting down the desktop. "I have places to be, this conversation is over."

"You're such an asshole, I miss your dad," Luke sighed, not listening to himself speak.

Michael stopped what he was doing, his leather jacket falling back onto his chair. His teeth clenched together as he couldn't control his breath. He stared at nothing for a few seconds, the inner corners of his eyes filling with water as he clutched his fists. 

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't—," Luke went back to stuttering, suddenly remembering why he was so scared to come in. "That wasn't supposed to—."

"You don't know anything," Michael told Luke.

"You're right, I don't—."

"You don't know what it's like to have both your parents dead and to leave you with a suicidal teenager, do you?" Michael picked up his coat again, throwing it over his shoulder. He was looking at Luke with such rage, such anger. 

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't—."

"Here I am, though, running a multi-billion dollar business that I never wanted. My father was a selfish dick, don't you dare try to tell me you miss him." 

Luke took a step back when Michael got closer.

"I try so hard to keep this all running, and worthless nothings like you come around trying to tell me how I can and cannot run my job." Mike kept his voice steady, which petrified Luke more and more with every breath. He hasn't seen truly the angry, screaming mess Michael, and he doesn't think he ever wants to. "If you want to quit, go ahead, I don't care anymore." He brushed past Luke, heading out his office door.

Luke stood frozen, his heart could be felt in his throat as he comprehended the conversation. "Fuck you!" He shouted, turning around and marching towards the elevator, "I'm not worthless!"

The upper office turned their heads, every conversation coming to a dead silence. Michael gave Luke a glance before pressing the down arrow. Michael didn't need to defend himself. 

Luke caught up to him, pressing his hands to Michael's back, trying to push the broad frame. "I'm not worthless!" He repeated, louder.

"Okay, Luke."

"Stop it!" He yelled, causing the rest of the office employees to turn towards the commotion. They weren't used to someone speaking to Michael with such tone.

Mike sighed, turning to face the blonde, "Stop what?" His eyes were low, the bags underneath them a light purple. 

"Everything! You can't patronize me like that then just leave!"

Michael stepped into the clear glass elevator. The doors started closing as he hoped to be filled with forty-four floors of dead silence to internally cry about his life. 

He was wrong. 

The blonde jumped in after him, pushing him against the wall once more, "Apologize!" He demanded.

"What are you, five?" He brushed Luke off of him, rolling his eyes. 

Luke took a step back, sending off rays of anger, "You can't treat me like this! I'm not a child! Have you ever thought that maybe you're the reason I want to quit!"

"Technically, you already quit, I just need to sign your resignation," Michael corrected, watching the red numbers decrease. He blinked heavily a few times, trying not to make contact with Luke. 

"Michael!" Luke's voice cracked. 

Mike looked at the man standing in front of him with water dripping from his eyes. "Please don't start sobbing. You're almost thirty years old for Christ's sake. It's just a word, a label, a demeanor I've set on you. Don't get so offended."

Luke wiped his eyes, a smudge of liquid eyeliner coming off on the back of his hand, "I've been obsessed with you for four years now, and you don't even care," he whispered. His hands hit the open doors button as the elevator came to a stop around floor twenty-two. "I'll have someone clear out my office for me."

Mike had nothing to lose, so he acted that way. He dropped his laptop bag and coat, grabbing Luke by his wrists and pulling him into an embrace. He wrapped his arms around Luke's neck, pressing their chapped lips together. 

Luke froze once more before digging his fingers into Michael's biceps, leaning into their kiss. His shoulders which were once so tight and stiff relaxed as the dark haired boy didn't let go of him. 

The doors closed again behind them and their position didn't change. 

Mike slipped away. "I'm sorry I told you that," Michael whispered with his eyes shut tightly. Their noses were pressed together as their lips were only inches apart, "You're not worthless and you don't deserve to be stuck here with me."

"Do me a favor, and don't let go."