sunrises // hiatus

awkward conversations

It's 2 AM, and Luke is too tired to be dealing with this bullshit. 

        "I don't have one! What the hell am I supposed to do? Magically pull one out of my ass?" Luke snaps, rubbing his eyes. 

        Rooming with Michael is his biggest regret hands down. He can't believe he subjects himself to the torture of living with him and his many conquests. It's such shit, honestly. 

        Michael glances back at his room where Carrie (Caroline? Carla? Whatever) is whining, one hand on the door frame and the other covering his dick. "Do me a favor and get me some condoms from the corner store," he says, adjusting himself. Luke's seen enough of Michael's junk to last him a life time, thanks. 

        "Michael get the fuck out." 

        "Luke!" He stares at him pleadingly. "Please?" 

        Luke turns around on his bed, shutting his eyes and praying the next time he opens them, there won't be a naked Michael in his room. 

        "Luuuuuuuke," he whines and for a brief second, he's terrified Michael will lean over and rip the blankets from his head. 

        "Fuck off Mike." He then promptly burrows himself further into his cocoon of blankets, wrapping them tightly underneath his body so if Michael does try to take them away from him, it won't be easy. 

        "I'll owe you forever just please, for God's sake, pick me up some condoms," he begs. 

        Okay at this point, it's getting fucking ridiculous how desperate Michael sounds. Hell with him. 

        "I'll do the laundry for the next month." And he sounds so defeated that it takes everything in Luke not to cackle.         

        He's up within a second, in a notably cheerier than he was moments before. "You just signed yourself up for hell, buddy," he practically sings as he puts on some sweats and a hoodie he found lying on the floor. He hopes it smells decent enough. 

        "Whatever, just hurry up," he mutters, backing out of the door. 

        Luke grabs his wallet and shoves it into his pocket, not fully wrapping his head around the fact that he's going to the corner store at 2 AM to buy condoms dressed as he is.

        If that's not sketchy, he doesn't know what is.

*

At 2:15 AM, he's standing in front of aisle 7, nicknamed the Lucky Aisle for it held all the condoms he could dream of. Or, you know, as many condoms as most gas stations hold. 

        He doesn't know whether to laugh or sigh at the predicament he's in. He's buying condoms for his best friend. Not himself. How pathetic. 

        Luke's halfway down the aisle when he sees her.         

        Or rather he hears her. 

        Truth be told, he almost falls flat on his face because he stops so suddenly, and what the shit, there's a girl here?  

        He blinks. There was a girl. In aisle 7. Trying to buy condoms. This type of thing doesn't happen in real life. Especially ot his life. 

        Luke's not an idiot. For the most part, at least. He's aware girls these days buy condoms and have sex and whatnot, but he didn't expect to come across one actually buying them. 

        He's more nervous than embarrassed because he's never learned the proper way to handle this situation other than the cheap ass movies he's seen with Calum, and he's pretty sure he doesn't have some witty, sexual pick up line on the tip of his tongue that won't get him kicked in the balls.