thinking about you [muke af]

four

four

Michael sat in Music Theory 4100, a class of only four students. Most of the music majors don’t waste their time going up the levels of music theory, but Mike always found enjoyment in the small class. 

He had his notebook in front of him, the boy a few seats down had no interest in what Mike was writing and neither did the lingering teacher. These artsy humans understand that over ninety percent of masterpieces are pure shit, and they won’t try to peak over his shoulder or ask him about a line. 

“You were mine for a night/ I was out of my mind/ You were mine for a night/ I don't know how to say goodbye,” was written in blocky, messy lettering. He stared at each line, his green eyes becoming fuzzy as the lights above flickered. 

He couldn’t get his mind off the stupid blonde who’s hair added six inches to his height. The way his lean fingers felt clutching onto Michael’s tee shirt, pulling at the fabric. Luke had his lean legs positioned in between Michael’s outspread legs, causing their limbs to be entangled in the fluorescent light of their classroom hallway. 

Michael wanted those hands in his hair and on his hips. He wanted their lips attached as breathy words left their mouths. Their sweaty bodies arched as their thin sheets fell off the bed. Michael really wanted Luke. 

It wasn’t just a sexual way though. Michael wanted to wander out to the middle of nowhere with the blonde following close behind. He wanted to argue about what they should make for dinner. Mike wanted to watch the blonde sleep soundly beside him, his eyes closed peacefully as puffs of air left his parted lips. 

“Making all our plans in the Santa Cruz sand that night/ Thought I had you in the palm of my hand that night/ Screaming at the top of my lungs ’til my chest felt tight/ I told myself that I'm never gonna be alright,” he scribbled another line down, the sound of his pen against the paper filling the fairly quiet room. 

Mike slowed down his writing as his teacher gave him a look. 

The dyed-hair boy knew someone like Lucas Robert Hemmings would never fall for him. There was nothing to fall for when it came to Michael. He was a nothing kid who had dreams too big and too little talent. Sure, he was dedicated to his music and worked every hour of the day trying to make something work out, but every day the window gets smaller and smaller. 

Michael closed his eyes, his dark eyelashes blinking. He opened them on his inhale. The taste of Luke was in his mouth, on his tongue, wrapped around his taste buds. He couldn’t get the taste of the twenty-three year old out of his mouth, even after all of these days. Mike was hopelessly in love with the tall blonde. 

He was already imagining their future; one million scenarios were throughout his mind at a constant speed. He could imagine himself curled into Luke’s side, his head rising with the slow speed of Luke’s chest. He imagined meeting the blonde’s parents, having to cover up his tattoos and let his head fade to the undertone of his bleach blonde. He could imagine ring shopping, a golden band for each boy to wear on their fingers for the rest of their lives. He imagined decorating their nursery, their first kid quickly on the way. Michael imagined his life with Luke, even after one kiss, he was already hooked. He couldn’t imagine a day without him anymore. 

“You had me wrapped around your finger/ I’m wrapped around your finger.”

(a/n) what is sleep