we don't care [muke af]

seventeen

seventeen

Luke stands in Michael's foyer half an hour before three in the morning. He holds his luggage bag tight to his side. He's never felt out of place within Mike's presence. But, he did right now.

He watched Michael roam around his loft, making sure everything was in place for the next few minutes. He, too, didn't know when they were going to get back .

"Okay, so the Uber is downstairs. You ready to go?" He asked, picking up two other suitcases.

Luke nodded, picking up his second bag.

Mike stepped closer, pulling him in for a kiss. "Happy birthday, by the way."

The freshly eighteen-year-old smiled, his stomach still filling with fear. He was always a little shaky before a flight or while leaving his family. Leaving his family without them knowing was worse, though. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel.

He left them a note on his bed. He knew he wasn't supposed to, but he didn't want them to worry. He didn't want them calling the police thinking he was kidnapped or anything. Luke didn't want to make his mother cry.

They got to the airport half an hour later. Michael sent Luke through security as Mike checked their extra bags. Mike just wanted his pregnant boyfriend to get through security, get some snacks, then get to their gate. He didn't want Luke standing on his sore feet for a bit while they weigh the bags and find the right tags.

Michael joined Luke at the small airport gate a few minutes later. Luke rested his head on Michael's shoulder, resting his eyes and curling up in the seat. Mike put his arm around the boy, holding him close.

"It's going to be okay," he reminded Luke.

"I know," he whispered, "It just doesn't feel right."

Michael kissed his forehead, unsure of what to say. It was early in the morning, and Michael hasn't slept yet. He was too busy making sure everything was going to work out. He needed everything to work out. He didn't want to Luke to go through any hardship that he didn't have to go through.

Luke left his phone at home. He knew his parents would try to contact him, and he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to hear their voices admitting their shame. Luke didn't want his parents finding him, either. They didn't want them bringing him home by the shell of his ears.

They got on the plane, Luke by the window. Michael was protective and didn't want Luke sitting by strangers. He was like a mother, except not really.

Luke gave up on hiding his tears. He turned to his boyfriend, water dripping from his eyes. Michael took out his ear bud, tilting his head as if asking Why?.

Michael pulled up the arm rest between them, holding Luke close. He wrapped both arms around Luke, letting the blonde cry into Mike's chest. They soon fell asleep with their eyes looking at the veins of their city, slowly slipping away from them.

By the time they landed in Denver for their connection, it was close to mid day. Luke knew his family was awake. He knew his mother walked into his bedroom to find her youngest son gone. She was left with all three of her boys gone, and that shattered his heart. He could physically feel his heart being ripped from his chest.

Michael held his hand, freely swinging their entwined fingers back and forth. They walked through the airport, trying to find a way to waste their three hour overlay. They walked slowly, letting people pass around them.

When Luke stopped thinking about his family, he felt okay. He felt okay with his future right next to him, a relaxed smile on his face.

Dear Mom, the note read, I'm sorry.

I'm okay, and I'm safe. Please don't start freaking out—I know you are. Just take a deep breath and let me explain, okay?

I did some bad things, and I'm not sure where to start. I've been lying to you. It's more than just 'No, I didn't punch Ben' (I actually did that time, and I'm sorry for his black eye and blaming it on Jack).

Anyways, it started in tenth grade, Mom. I fell in love.

Luke knew his mother was holding the letter, written in his messy calligraphy. He knew she was reading every sentence of the entire four pages. He felt like he was admitting his sins, and maybe he was.

Luke didn't know what to think, so he stopped thinking.