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

(Thursday, November 21st, 2019)

(Thursday, November 21st, 2019)

Luke slowly made his way off of the couch. He placed a hand on his lower back as the babies were giving him pain. He wobbled into the kitchen, spotting Michael working on his computer.

Luke squeezed past him, opening up the fridge and grabbing a cold drink. The Polaroid-covered door closed, revealing the calendar. He hummed a tune as his blue eyes scanned over the pages, just killing time as he tried to come up with a conversation.

"Mike," he called his husband's name in a warning tone.

"Hm?" He barely acknowledged. Michael stared at his computer screen, trying to focus on an extremely long and unnecessary email from his promo agent.

"We missed your birthday, what the fuck? Why didn't you tell me?!" Luke whined, he sipped at his drink, his eyebrows furrowed with hurt.

"It's just a birthday, calm down," he answered. He pressed the reply button, starting to answer the many questions.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Luke cried.
Michael's eyes flickered up from his computer, landing on his husband. "Are you seriously crying again?" He put his eyes back on his computer, his fingers clicking on the keyboard.

"I'm not crying!" He wiped at his wet eyes. "I don't want to cry!"

"Baby, I promise, I don't care." Michael said the words he knew so well. This seemed like a regular conversation this had. Luke would cry, Mike would comfort him.

"I forgot your birthday! You always remember mine!"

Michael shrugged his shoulders as he signed off the email under his fingertips. "I love you, Baby."

"Don't patronize me!" Luke yelled. He ran (wobbled) up the stairs, collapsing into their bedroom.

Michael gave him a few minutes alone before he closed his laptop. He ran a hand through his hair as he started to stand up. This was Michael's life. He knew he had to be there for the stressed out, hormonal boy he loves too much.

He slowly made his way up the stairs, Luke's sobs echoing the open hallway. The sound used to break Michael's heart. Deep inside, it still does a little bit. Once their four girls are safely born, then it'll probably begin breaking his heart again. But, when Luke is crying because they don't have enough watermelon for both of them, or they ran out of yellow ink, or he forgot Michael's birthday, then Mike doesn't feel as bad. He understands it's just his emotion. At least, he tries to understand.

Michael has never been pregnant, so he will never fully understand what Luke is going for. It's like a white man trying to understand what a black women is going for. One can only try.

Michael put a warming smile upon his face as he walked into their bedroom. Luke laid flat on their bed, his belly sticking out. Mike climbed up, his legs in-between Luke's. He tilted his body to the right, making sure not to crush the babies. He wrapped his arms securely around Luke's chest as he pressed his lips to Luke's neck.

"Please don't cry, I don't like it when you cry."

Luke shook with sobs. "I'm s—such a terrible husband."

"You are not," he said softly, "You're an amazing husband. You make me happier than any human has ever done. You're carrying our beautiful sunshines, and I understand it's a little stressful on you sometimes."

Luke liked Michael's voice. Regardless of the situation, it always seemed to calm him down. "I'm s—so, so sorry, Mikey."
"Nothing to be sorry about. Nothing at all," he promised.

Luke bit his lip as he tried to subside the sobs. "You don't want that babies, do you?"

"Where the hell did you get that idea?" Michael sat up, concern filling his entire body. He looked at Luke with curious eyes, one million thoughts running through his head.

"You s—said you didn't want them."

"Months ago, Luke!" Michael tried not to raise his voice at Luke ever, but sometimes his pregnancy brain drives the younger boy insane.

"How can you change your mind that fast?!" He yelled back.

"Suddenly you peed on a stick with a plus sign, and I realized that you and this," he put his hands on the top of Luke's belly, "Was all I needed."

Luke cried more. He sobbed, his entire body shaking as Michael didn't know what to do.

"Sh, Princess, the girls can hear you now."
That made Luke cry more. "I suck at being a husband and a father!"

"Luke," he dragged out his husband's name, trying to suppress the laugh escaping his lips. "I promise you, I, nor the babies, hate you. We all love you and think you're the greatest human being to walk this planet."

"They're gonna hate me!" Luke yelled again. His voice became hoarse as he screamed out his lungs.

Michael ran his hands up and down Luke's sides. No matter what he was planning on saying, it was going to upset the pregnant man.

He comforted him in a cuddle, his fingers tracing circles on his bloated stomach. He could feel them kicking, one of them was constantly active.

Luke fell asleep, tears still falling from his eyes. He was beyond stressed out, and Michael figured getting involved would make it worse.

He did wipe the tears from his pretty eyelashes, though, making sure he was comfortable for his typical three in the afternoon nap. Michael tucked him in with a quilt before heading back downstairs, getting more work done with their fat cat on his lap.