All The Stars We See // muke

chapter ten

Luke was distracted, to put it simply.

He sat in his empty classroom and sighed as his pen pressed into his notebook, words unable to process and formulate in his head no matter how hard he pushed his brain to think. He knew he had to get this done before he left work today, and that getting these papers done was the biggest thing on his to-do list right now, but there were no students to taunt him for his lack of a social life, and there were no teachers walking in to borrow his spare copies or books. There was no rumble of laughter at jokes regarding planet and star names or groans because of upcoming tests or exams. It was quiet, but that's why it was worse than all of his usual disruptions combined.

Now he had his thoughts to fill the empty silence, and they made his head ache with each passing word.

He wanted to get this done so he wouldn't have to worry about it later and his father could hopefully give him something better than a teaching position, but he couldn't shake the feeling and image of Michael from his head long enough to focus on getting it work finished. He couldn't drop the memory of the sparkly glint in his eyes as he saw the sapphire stone embedded in the necklace or forget the pressure of his mouth on his in such an unsuspecting motion. He especially couldn't push the kiss to the back of his head no matter how hard he tried to think of anything else but the feeling. It was an act of appreciation, a custom of his people that he probably believed was normal on Earth — in other words, harmless. Luke had to let it go but he couldn't help but blow it into something bigger than it was.

Two different worlds, two different species, it should feel so much weirder than it actually did to him. It should feel so much more taboo, like kissing a fish on the head. Not that Michael looked like a fish, he was handsome as ever, but he doubts their races would be compatible. Why was he so hung up on it? Why was he itching to make Michael smile that beautiful grin of his again and made those emerald eyes glisten and glow with happiness?

He slammed his papers down on the table and then threaded his fingers through his hair as he groaned quietly to himself. He wants to blame the fact he hasn't had a significant other since he was fifteen years old for acting like such a child over the kiss. He hasn't had an ounce of affection since Ashton left him in their senior year, and even then all he remembers of that day is falling asleep beside him in their dorm room and then waking up to all of his things gone and someone saying he was booted for getting into another fight. He was too busy after that to so much as bat an eye at anyone with his piles of homework and mountains of textbooks. The thought hasn't even presented himself since then.

It's a reasonable conclusion. He's sensitive to things like this. He's just touch starved and sharing a place with someone else is triggering his the emotions he hasn't felt or used in too long. He's not used to being so close with people, especially people as attractive as Michael. A few days or weeks and this feeling will wear off, he's sure of it.

But how many more times is Michael going to kiss him in those weeks? Would his feelings get worse? Would he just get used to it?

He can make these feeling of his platonic, right?

"Stupid alien customs." He grumbled as he hit himself in the head with his notebook and heard his door door open.

He didn't lift his head up. He kept his head down, the smell of ink filling his nose and then a sickeningly familiar cologne as footsteps tapped in his room.

"Professor."

Luke felt his stomach drop and he took a deep breath as he looked up. "Father." He greeted with forced enthusiasm as he walked in with a smile on his face. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"We've done it, son." He breathed out. "We've done what no other scientists have done, or had the chance to do. We are the first ones to make thus breakthrough."

"What, father?"

"We've cracked the power source of the shuttle, I believe. We theorize it is indeed powered by a life force, it's shown through what looks to be an neuromuscular electrical stimulation situation. The wires attach to someone and it runs so long as it's pilot runs." He explained and Luke nodded.

"That's fascinating." He commented as his father grinned like a child on Christmas morning. "And the scientists are working on getting it activated?"

"It's too risky to strap someone to it, so they're working on a way to use an artificial heartbeat and presence to see what it does for it." He replied as he finally looked at the desk full of paper. "Are you busy?"

"Never too busy to talk to you." He smiled kindly, and the older man just eyes him as he tapped his pen on the table. "Anything else?"

"You work on your papers," he decided. "- I'll be back in my office working on emails for parents and explanations to hide our discovery. Don't leave until all that paperwork is finished."

"Yes, sir." He saluted before looking down at his desk and pretending to get to work right away.

He heard the door shut and he waited a few moments to look up. When he saw that his father had left, he let out a breath of relief before chewing on the cap of his pen.

What if they get the shuttle working? Would Michael's information be given to them? Could they find him and trace him to himself!

No, their technology isn't advanced enough to make an extraterrestrial tracker. Worse case scenario is they find out the pilot crash landed and then try to find clues of where he could have gone, not that the tracks were there anymore. They were blown away, so he was safe.

Was he though? What if someone sees him? What if Michael messes up and exposes himself?

"You have more important things to worry about." He snapped at himself before sighing in frustration. "Stop thinking about him."

He wishes it was just that easy.

1097 words