I'M IN SPANISH CLASS RIGHT NOW THIS PROBABLY ISN'T VERY SMART BUT OKAY
~
Luke looked up in horror as he heard his window break.
"Shit! Sorry!" Michael yelled from below, and Luke got up quickly, not even caring that he looked terrible. He threw on a shirt anyway, and he was pretty sure it was Michael's.
He avoided the glass and looked down at Michael, who had a small pile of rocks next to him. Michael looked down and kicked half the pile away, clasping his hands behind his back and giving Luke one of his award-winning, please-don't-hate-me smiles.
He was wearing his signature red flannel with a band shirt underneath and combat boots, along with ripped-at-the-knee, skin-tight skinny jeans that the parents of everyone in the entire town hated. And Michael's friends - Calum and Ashton, and although they didn't wear skin-tight jeans like him - were definitely in on the black skinny jean trend that Michael had started. Luke was, too. He might've been wearing black eyeliner, too, but Luke couldn't tell from the distance. But the thought of Michael wearing his eyeliner again? Oh, it gave Luke chills. He loved Michael's eyeliner, but he only wore it for special occasions, or when he was privately hanging out at Luke, for his parents had found out, and he'd gotten smacked by his mother for it.
Luke shook his head. "What the fuck are you doing?" He asks. "It's two in the morning!"
"Pebbles didn't work, so..." Michael trails off, his feet crossing over each other.
"And so you threw a bloody rock through my window?"
"Yeah, not a great idea, now that I think about it."
"It's a terrible idea, Michael."
Luke shakes his head, even though he's smiling at the faux redhead.
"Can I come up?" He asks, quickly throwing another rock to the side and hearing a bird squawk. Luke looks like he's trying not to snort and laugh. "Don't laugh at me!"
"You're an idiot. Yes, you can come up," Luke chuckles, going to find a broom and pan to clean up the glass.
After a solid ten minutes, Michael has climbed through Luke's window and is now helping him clean up the glass. By picking it up with his hands, no less.
"I'm telling you, you're going to cut yourself," Luke sighs.
"I got it, I got it," Michael says, dumping the smaller shards of glass that Luke didn't get into the dustpan. "See? No cuts." He holds up his hands, and Luke rolls his eyes.
"Idiot." He gets up and dumps the glass into the trash can.
"Oh come on," Michael pouts at him. Luke rolls his eyes, but takes the chance to glance at his waterline. He was definitely wearing eyeliner, and it definitely make Luke's cheeks heat up.
"I see you finally noticed the eyeliner." Michael teases. Luke glares at him, even though he adored the way it made Michael's eyes pop even more.
"Shut up," Luke mumbles, looking away as Michael laughs.
"Roof?" He asks. The way Luke's eyes snapped back to Michael's twice as bright made Michael grin.
"Let's go."
Michael helped Luke out of the window and onto the fairly small ledge above them, pushing him up onto Luke's slightly slanted roof. He then pulled himself up and laid next to Luke, looking at the sky.
Luke absolutely loved stargazing like this - on his roof with Michael holding his hand, where nobody could see them. It was their favourite way of hiding in plain sight, besides the discreet kisses in bathroom stalls. And the occasional heated make-out session when they should be in class, but are tucked away in the bathroom where all the toilets are broken and only two of the sinks worked. It was generally a safe place for them to do anything, really.
Besides here - Luke's roof, in the dead of night. That was where they could say and do anything, and the only way they'd be caught is if someone drove by in a car and happened to hear them laughing and giggling, or looked up to see them holding hands. It only happened once, and that was how Calum and Ashton managed to find out that they were a thing. Their parents wouldn't accept it, but they didn't care. It's not like it was a disease, in their minds at least.
"Remember when Lawrence thought we were a thing?" Luke asks, rolling on top of Michael, who wraps his arms around Luke, chuckling.
"He didn't have any proof, though. Besides that one time he caught us staring at each other. That was difficult to explain." Michael recalls.
"Oh, yeah, and didn't you say that you were trying to get an answer out of me for one of the homework questions?"
"Yep." Michael smiles, pecking Luke's cheek. "It worked, didn't it?"
"Barely." Luke giggles. Michael puts a hand on his neck, starting to pull him down.
"Shut up, I got us out of that situation. I deserve some credit."
"Yeah, sure." Luke smiles and leans down, kissing him softly. Michael hums, flipping them over and biting his lower lip, dragging it back towards Michael and letting it snap back into place. Luke grabs at Michael's shirt, wanting it off of Michael.
"I think," Luke whispers, "that this should come off."
Michael grins, sitting up and shimmying out of his flannel, playfully throwing it over Luke's eyes, and laughing as Luke throws it back at him.
Luke watches as Michael takes off the shirt, admiring the few tattoos that he'd gotten - probably illegally - over the past two years.
"I think you just like me for my tattoos." Michael teases. Luke snorts.
"I think you just got them to make me like you even more." Luke counters. Michael shrugs.
"I think it worked."
"I think you're an idiot." Luke smiles.
"I think you're amazing." Michael says sincerely.
Luke grins even more and leans up to kiss him sweetly, one hand on Michael's chest, the other cupping his cheek.
Michael runs his hands underneath Luke's shirt, rubbing circles into his sides.
"I think you're great at this," Luke breathes, diving for his collarbone and sucking a mark, even nibbling at the skin a little bit, which always made Michael hum and hold on to Luke just a little bit tighter.
Michael stops Luke before things get too carried away, but Luke was satisfied with the three different hickeys - one on his collarbone, one near the bottom on his neck, and the other on his jaw. He'd probably get questioned by most of the school - who was the girl? He'd just smirk and walk away, and Luke would eye him when nobody was looking.
"I think you really love giving me hickies," Michael chuckles.
"I think you look hot with them."
"I think you look hot all the time." Michael says. Luke smiles and lays back down, blushing like crazy.
"I think you just like seeing me all flustered."
"I think you're cute when you're flustered.
"I think you're an asshole." Luke covers his face, giggling to himself.
"I think you're adorable," Michael pushes away Luke's hands and kisses his cheeks, "and smart," he kisses his forehead, "and perfect." He pecks his nose, making Luke smile and scrunch it up.
Luke doesn't say anything for a while and just stares at Michael, who rolled off of him after he'd scrunched up his nose. He was looking at the stars, and Luke was looking at him.
"I think I love you." Luke whispers. He's completely serious, and Michael turns his head towards Luke's. They're not very far apart - he can hear Luke breathing.
Michael doesn't say anything for a second, and Luke doesn't get nervous or afraid of rejection. He knows Michael's gonna say something good, he just has to wait for it.
"Love is an awfully strong word, you know." Michael whispers.
"This is an awfully strong feeling." Luke matches his tone.
Michael keeps staring at Luke for a while, and Luke doesn't look away. Sure, he's blushing like mad, but he doesn't look away.
"I think I love your cute little nose," Luke starts, "and the way it flares whenever you get mad." He's smiling at the memory of Michael being mad at Calum, but Luke still smiled, seeing as his nose was flaring, and it was one of the cutest things he'd ever seen. "I think I love the way eyeliner makes your eyes look twice as magical than they already are, and I think I love the way your eyes light up whenever you're genuinely happy. I think I love the fact that you're literally as pale as a sheet of paper," Michael laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "And I think I love how your earrings move whenever your head moves and make a little jingle-y noise that I can barely hear unless you're right next to me. I think I love the way you blush whenever you're trying to convince me to go to some crazy place at two in the morning with you, even though I know I'm gonna say yes," Michael's smiling now. "And I think I love the way you smile at everyone because you just want everyone to be happy. I think I love the fact that your lips can either be a deep, rich, natural red, or the lightest pink I've ever seen, depending on the season. I think I love how you dye your hair crazy colours every few months to keep your roots hidden because you think your natural hair looks like shit, and I think I love how you always make me play with your hair when you finish drying it. I think I love how you're a little shorter than me, but you don't care - you'll lean up to kiss me anyway. I think I love how your hips are kind of big, making you look just a little bit girlish all the time, and I think I love the fact that you don't have a six-pack, or even abs, really. You have a soft little tum and it's absolutely amazing, and your arms and legs aren't twigs, and your tattoos pop out at everyone whenever they're in view, and your fingers are short and kind of stubby, but that doesn't stop you from playing the guitar or running them through my hair, and god damn, I really do think I love you, Michael Clifford." Luke smiles and looks at the sky for a second, but going back to staring Michael in the eye once he finishes.
Michael's got a gleam in his eye, Luke notices, and he's got a fond, loving grin on his face. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it after a second.
"I think I love how you just made me speechless for the first time in my life." Michael says, almost laughing at himself. "And I think we could spend hours out here, just listing what we think we love about each other. Well, I could, at least, about you." Luke laughs a little bit. "But then again, that list would be so damn detailed, you'd probably think I'm a stalker, because I notice literally everything about you."
"Prove it." Luke automatically responds. Almost as if it were a challenge.
"Your nose has little freckles on the side, where most people don't notice, and you have a flee blackheads all over it. You have the tiniest little scar on the bottom left side of your lips from your piercing that can't be seen unless you take it out, and you have white speckles all over your eyes that make it seem like there's pure fucking glitter in them. You've got that little.. I don't even know what to call it, a freckle? Mini mole? What the hell is this?" Michael giggles, poking right under his right cheekbone. Luke smiles. "You have that thing. You have a single little dimple," Michael pokes his dimple. "And you have a little, like, line that separates the inside of your lip from the outside, almost like a little scar."
"I got a paper cut there when I was seven. That's why it's there." Luke explains. "Don't ask how."
Michael shakes his head. "Should I go on, or have I proven my point?"
Luke grins. "I got it." There's a small silence. "Do you love me?"
"No, you're my arch nemesis." Michael smiles.
Luke laughs, smacking his chest. "Come on, Michael. Do you?"
Michael rolls on top of him, hovering, and his firetruck hair falls down from his face, almost like a curtain with how long it was getting.
"I don't see how I couldn't, really."
"You are going to be the reason why I die of overheating one day," Luke groans, feeling his face heat up. Michael laughs, resting his forehead against Luke's. "No, get away, murderer," Luke giggles, although doing nothing to stop him.
"No, you see, I have this theory," Michael hums.
"What theory?" Luke plays along.
"That you just want me to kiss you."
Luke smiles. "Maybe, maybe not."
Michael grins and leans down, kissing Luke softly. Luke melts into it, bringing his hands up to Michael's sides and holding him close.
They pull away with a wet plopping sound, and Michael smiles a bit.
"You didn't answer me." Luke says. "Do you love me?" He repeats his question, looking at Michael, who's just staring fondly.
"Yes, Luke, I love you." Michael says. "And you?"
"I love you, too." Luke says back, feeling his heart swell. Michael leans down again, deciding to give his the slowest kiss he could muster. Luke tangles his fingers into Michael's hair, bending his leg and completely giving up all rationality to enjoy himself for a while.
But then again, all good things for the couple are, usually, ruined by Ashton and Calum.
A bottle of water is thrown near Michael's head, and he doesn't suddenly pull away. He makes the two wait until he's finished having his share of Luke's lips, then turned to glare at them.
"The roof is not the best place to screw, guys!" Ashton says. Michael rolls his eyes. "Wanna come to the bridge?"
Michael looks to Luke, who nods. "Yeah, we're coming." Michael tells them, careful not to shout.
"Fucking idiots," Luke mutters. Michael just smiles and helps him down. "They ruin everything."
"We do not!"
~
okay but I'm actually super in love with this one I might start an actual book that has this kind of scene and stuff and it's 2400 words you're welcome
then again I have 23 book drafts oops