baby, I'll show you the world [muke af]

(Sunday, June 9th, 2019)

(Sunday, June 9th, 2019)

Still in Lisbon, they had their first official day off. Not a single interview nor show for an entire day. 

Obviously, that meant sleep. At least to Michael it did. 

Luke lifted up his heavy arm, it still had remains of marker in-between the superlative lines of his tattoos. The blonde began to move off the bed, but Mike grabbed the back hem of his shirt. "Stay," he whined, "You're warm."

"Is that all I am to you, a heater?" Luke asked, a chuckled leaving his lips.

Michael shrugged his shoulders and opened one eye. "Please?" His left arm was still laying flat over Luke's pillow, the side of Luke's face had a red mark from leaning against his skin for so long. His other hand was resting upon his curvy hips, ready to tackle Luke into a warm cuddle session once again. 

"I need to go make breakfast, go back to sleep," he whispered this time. 

Michael groaned before rolling over in the sheets. He found a comfortable position and sooner rather than later, snores filled the hotel room. Mike always snored, they were like dad-snores. The big kind that sometimes wake them up. Luke would often worry that the younger boy was choking or being killed because of all the constant noise. 

He got out of bed, his white socks sliding against the carpeted floors. He passed the small family room area where an interview was being conducted only fourteen hours ago. Luke turned the corner and made it to the kitchen. He stretched out his back, his arms almost hitting the ceiling. His light blue boxer shorts were loose on his hips which made him 90 percent positive that then were actually Michael's. His plain white tee shirt had a hole under the arm showing his lack of underarm hair. 

Most of their mornings of the last few years were like this. They moved out of Calum and Ashton's house almost three years ago and into their own proper house. Michael didn't really want to buy a house, he was most comfortable in a loft or apartment where he didn't have to worry about it when he was away. But, Luke insisted. Whatever the princess says, seems to always go. 

Luke turned on the stove, placing a pot with oil over the fire. He cracked an egg, beginning to make their breakfast. 

The first real tour Michael was on was an opening act job for The 1975. Luke cried more than Michael. Don't get him wrong, they both sobbed like babies when Michael came home with the news that he was opening for the band that maybe-sorta-kind-of brought them together. 

That was the first time Luke was truly alone though, and it was scary. He'd hear a noise in the middle of the night, and he wouldn't know what to do. Does he cower into his sheets? Does he grab the metal baseball bat by the bedroom door? (Yes, Luke put it there just in case). 

The scared blonde boy ended up spending more nights with Ashton and the twins than in their own house. Luke would wake up on the couch, recognizing the house that he spent a year in with his three best friends. Sometimes he'd wake up to a crying baby, sometimes to two cry babies. Sometimes it'd be Ashton getting ready for the day. Sometimes Ash's alarm. It was never his alarm, he'd never make it all the way to his alarm. 

He always woke up, helped out Ashton with the girls, then head off to his job. The whole thing got old fast. He missed Michael, he missed him a lot. 

Luke flipped the egg as it started to fry the opposite side. The hotel room smelled good, now. The sun was fully up and Luke was sure he was getting sunburnt through the window in the kitchen. He's very pale, very sensitive. 

There was one night during the first real tour that got really bad. Luke was in his actual home, the clocking was ticking on and sleep was not coming. He watched the wall clock tick on, every minute taunting his hazy head. 

Michael sent his good morning text to Luke, because it was morning where he was. Back in LA, it was barely two in the morning.

Luke picked up the phone with tears in his eyes, he dialed Mike's number with shaky fingers. A tear dropped onto the screen and a prism of colors showed. He wiped it away before bringing the phone to his ear. 

Luke doesn't remember what he said, he doesn't remember what Michael said either. He just remembers crying into the phone because he was alone, and he was sad, and he wanted to be held. He doesn't remember if Mike was even listening or just holding the phone to his ear listening to his husband sob. 

Luke does remember throwing the phone against the wall, yelling that Mike shouldn't have gone. It took hours for him to finally fall asleep, the numbers on his phone still ticking as he did not realize Michael was still on the other line. 

Present day Luke took one of the eggs, placing them on a plastic plate. He cracked another egg and put two pieces of bread in the toaster, ready to heat them, hoping not to burn them. 

After that incident, Michael felt awful. Yet, he didn't know what to do. This was his job, this was his life. Luke got used to it, slowly. He's not afraid to be alone in their house anymore. 

They were both forced to grow up faster than they wanted to. 

(a/n) fillersakjsghoaigj