#muke au

Summary: A drunk, terrified Luke is trapped in a mosh-pit at a festival. Thankfully, a red haired stranger pulls him out and helps him through a panic attack.

Word count: 911

Warnings: Minor panic attack, some violence.

A/N: Eyyy I’m actually quite proud of this one!! It’s a little shorter than my other ones but I think it’s pretty adorable, if not a little creepy.  Also I really need some new ideas for more fics soooo please send me any prompts or anything you want me to write okay bye thanks. Based off a prompt I found from @graciedaydreams

-

Luke thought this would be fun. He thought he'd be dancing with his friends to songs he's never heard, and flirting with the singers backstage, and watching the sun set on the hill, screaming the lyrics of bohemian rhapsody and come on Eileen drunkenly.

But instead of screaming 80's songs at the sunset, he's being pushed and shoved around in a giant mosh-pit by two drunk, dancing brutes, on the verge of a panic attack, blood running out of his nose and filling his mouth, slightly tipsy from the three bottles of beer he's drained.

He spins around, not knowing which way is the way out, trying to get past the huge men on either side of him.

He tries taking some deep breaths as he's crushed against the metal gate separating the crowd from the stage.

Tears stream down his face. The sobs he lets out are swallowed instantly by the screaming mosh-pit.

Stars appear in the corners of his vision as an elbow meets with the side of his head and he cries harder, pushing as hard as he can against the oblivious swarm of people around him.

He can feel his chest tightening painfully and his breath is quickly escaping him.

Just as he's about to fall to the muddy ground in exhaustion and fear, there's an arm locked firmly around his waist. Immediately, he clings onto whoever is holding him steady.

Disorientated, tired and tipsy, he looks up.

A boy not much older than him with furious red hair and a smear of mud on one of his cheeks is screaming over the crowd at the two men previously surrounding Luke.

"Watch who you're fucking stepping on!" He roars before making his way to the exit of the mosh-pit, careful not to lose Luke in the swarm, not like he could if he wanted to. Luke clutches onto his shirt for dear life, sobbing and shaking.

"Get out of my way! Fucking move, asshole!" The boy shouts at erratic drunks, elbowing them out of his path and shoving them with his shoulders.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Luke is onto the soft grass, surrounded by food-stands and fluorescent lights.

His mind races as he tries to pace his breaths, taking in huge gulps of fresh air.

His head throbs painfully and he lets out a shaky groan, more tears slipping out of his eyes.

Suddenly he's being sat down on a hard camping stretcher.

His surroundings spin and he clutches the sides of his head.

A hand lifts his chin up gently and he whimpers as the sleeve of a leather jacket is pressed up against the blood gushing out of his nose.

"You alright there, Darlin'?" The red haired boy asks affectionately, brushing a curl out of Luke's face.

He lets out a shaky sob.

"You're okay. You're safe now. Just take some good, deep breaths." The boy's angry demeanour has completely disappeared.

Luke looks at him through his eyelashes as he begins to get his breathing patterns back to normal. 

Tattoos, piercings, leather jacket. Not the type of person Luke would expect to save someone from a mosh pit.

The boy grabs a tissue and offers it to Luke, who takes it and quickly holds it against his nose.

He watches as the boy kneels and begins to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

"Good. It's not broken."

Luke swallows the blood in his mouth and grimaces at the metallic taste.

"You want some water?" The boy offers.

Luke nods.

"You ever been in a mosh-pit before?"

He shakes his head as the boy fills up a plastic cup under a plastic water jug.

"Here." He hands Luke the cup, who drains it in a few gulps.

"Can you squeeze my hand for me?"

Luke hesitates for a few seconds at the boy's outstretched hand before taking it and squeezing it as hard as he can, his hands still shaking quite violently.

"Is that all?" The boy smiles.

Luke nods.

He chuckles. "You're very talkative."

Luke's face flushes red. He opens his mouth to say something.

"No, no. I was kidding." The boy laughs. "You don't have to say anything. It's probably better if you let your voice rest, anyway."

Luke frowns. "C-c-can I...have some more water?" He croaks out.

"Yeah, of course." The boy fills the cup once more.

"Th-thank you." Luke says, once again draining it.

After a few minutes of silence, he rubs an eye with his knuckle and lets out a yawn like a sleepy toddler.

"You tired?" The boy asks. He nods.

"Do you have a tent or a van you're staying in tonight?"

"M-my friends and I were gonna stay at the hotel a few miles away..." Luke takes a deep breath. "But...they're all drunk...so..."

"So you're stuck here?"

He nods.

"You can sleep in here tonight if you want. I know my bed's kinda shit, but...it's better than sleeping in the middle of a festival ground full of drunk assholes, right?"

Luke is too tired and out of it to say no. He shrugs his denim jacket off and rolls onto the stretcher.

The boy pulls a blanket over him with a laugh. "I'm gonna go grab something to eat. You rest, yeah?"

Luke nods, his eyes closed.

Just as he steps out of the large tent, the boy turns around and pops his head back in. "I'm Michael." He smiles.

"Luke." Luke says softly.

Summary: Michael’s school is hosting a fundraiser for the football team, and Michael has his eye on one stall in particular, where a pretty boy in blue is selling ice cream.

Word Count: 2,453

Warnings: None

A/N: Hi I’m new here

(P.s, this is loosely based off this fic! ^-^)

-

“Dude, talk to him.”

Michael sucks in the smoke from his cigarette and stares at the boy across the football field.

He shakes his head.

“Michael, come on.” His best friend Calum says, rolling his eyes and blowing out a cloud of smoke from his own cigarette. “That’s Luke Hemmings.” he jabs a finger at the boy handing out ice cream. “Luke Hemmings. Who all the guys for fifty miles are drooling over, who’s face is plastered around the school because he’s a straight A student that teachers fucking adore, and who has never and will never notice you, unless you grow a pair, go over there and talk to him! Because you can, for once and only once.”

Michael watches as Luke laughs at a customer and hands them an ice cream.

He shakes his head again as his heart pounds against his ribcage. “I don’t like ice cream.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a loser.” Calum laughs, pushing himself up off the grass and stamping his cigarette out with his boot.

“What? I’m not aloud to dislike ice cream?” Michael says, glaring. He gets up too, leaning against the tree behind them.

“Look, what I’m saying is, this fundraiser shit’s only on this week, and then you won’t get a chance to talk to him again.”

Michael rolls his eyes.

“If you’re gonna be an idiot, go get me an ice cream.” Calum shoves a gold coin into Michael’s hand.

“I…Fine.” He says, stamping out his cigarette and trudging away into the crowded field.

He plays with the coin in his hand and almost drops it as he gets closer to the ice cream stall. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he should just go get a cupcake from the niners’ stall and tell Calum to shove it.

“Hi!”

He turns around quickly.

“H-hi.” His voice shakes as he looks into Luke’s eyes. “Um…can I…get an ice cream?”

Luke laughs and Michael melts.

“Sprinkles or no sprinkles?”

“I-um…sprinkles, please.”

Michael looks the boy up and down. He’s wearing an oversized light blue sweater with the school emblem sewn onto it. It’s obviously from the uniform shop set up a few stalls away. The sweater is paired with black skinny jeans, and Michael quickly looks down at his boots as Luke turns around.

He clears his throat and Michael looks up. “Huh?”

“What kind of cone do you want?”

“Oh…u-um…” Michael fiddles with his rings.

Luke laughs once more and grabs a waffle cone.

Michael scolds himself quietly. Just be cool, idiot. What the hell is wrong with you? He clears his throat and rolls up the sleeves of his leather jacket, showing off his inked arms.

“So, you don’t seem like the type of guy to be supporting the school. Did your parents force you to come?” Luke asks, busying himself with the ice cream.

Michael shakes his head. “N-no. I just decided to be nice, for once.”

“Oh, really? A change of heart?” Luke smiles, swirling the white ice cream perfectly.

“Uh, yeah.”

“That’s nice.” He hands Michael the ice cream, who fumbles with the coin, almost dropping it again, before placing it in Luke’s outstretched hand.

“You know,” Luke says quietly, leaning in close to Michael. “Sprinkles are actually a dollar extra. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

Michael smiles and turns to walk away.

“Bye, Michael.”

He stops and turns back around. “Y-you know my name?” He asks, watching the boy’s lips curl into a smile.

“Why, don’t you know mine?”

He looks down at his black boots with a smile. “Of course.” he mumbles, immediately regretting it.

Luke laughs, his nose scrunching up, making Michael’s stomach flip.

Michael nods at the grinning boy, biting his bottom lip.

“You know, I would’ve preferred chocolate syrup. I’m not really a sprinkles kind of guy.” Calum says when Michael walks over to him.

“Fuck off.” Michael pushes him away and begins to eat the ice cream.

✰✰✰

The next day is unbearably hot, and Michael wears a plain white shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans, along with his Docs.

He finishes his cigarette and makes his way to the other side of the oval where the ice cream stall is. Calum refused to come, so Michael’s stuck here, alone.

He looks down at the coin, before taking a deep breath and stepping up to the ice cream stall.

His breath catches when he sees Luke, and he instantly wants to run the other way. But it’s too late, Luke’s caught sight of him.

“Back again? Is our ice cream that good?” He smiles.

Michael tries to form a sentence, but just nods.

“Same as yesterday, then?”

He nods again.

As Luke fills up the waffle cone, Michael looks down at his hands, willing himself not to look at the boy’s bare skin where his cropped shirt doesn’t reach.

“T-that’s definitely not from the uniform shop, huh?” He says.

Luke laughs and pulls at the small shirt. “No, I got it made.” He’s wearing his skinny jeans again.

“That’ll be two dollars, please.” He smiles at Michael.

Michael puts the coin on the table.

As Luke leans out to give Michael his ice cream, he chuckles quietly. “You should really drop that smoking habit, by the way. It’s bad for you, if you didn’t know.”

Michael’s face goes red. “How-”

“I can smell it from a mile away, silly.” Luke gives Michael his ice cream and a breathtaking smile to go with it.

✰✰✰

After an hour of nagging him, Michael finally persuaded Calum to come back to the fundraiser.

They sit under the tree like always, Calum with a cigarette between his lips, Michael spinning the gold coin in his hand nervously.

“Can you just go get your ice cream, already? I wanna leave.” Calum whines.

“Shut up.” Michael says.

Today is the same as yesterday. Hot, too hot. Michael wipes away the sweat above his lip and fans himself with his loose black tank top. Today was not a good day to wear all black.

“Just hurry up. It’s too hot here.” Calum thrusts his cigarette towards Michael, who shakes his head. He put on extra deodorant and a spray of cologne before leaving his house this morning, and forced himself not to sneak out the back and have his morning cigarette.

“Really?” Calum asks, surprised at his friend’s refusal.

“What? I don’t feel like one right now.” Michael says, pushing himself off the tree.

“Fine, whatever.” Calum sighs, watching Michael make his way to the ice cream stall.

Two days. He thinks bitterly to himself as he walks down the hill. Two days before I become invisible to Luke Hemmings once again.

Luke’s not wearing anything fancy today. A light blue cotton shirt with the emblem printed large in the centre, tucked into yet another pair of black skinny jeans.

“I didn’t think you were coming.” He says as Michael puts the coin on the table.

“You underestimate my school spirit.” Michael smiles.

“Same as yesterday?” Luke asks, walking over to the ice cream machine.

“Actually, I think I’ll just have a popsicle today.”

He grabs a blue double stick popsicle out of the cooler and pulls off the plastic before handing it to Michael.

“Share one with me?” Michael asks, pointing the ice block towards him.

Luke smiles and takes the other stick, pulling the ice block apart perfectly.

Michael notices Luke’s painted blue nails. “I like your nails.” He says.

“Thank you, I got them done on Monday.” Luke replies, taking his half of the ice block out of his mouth. “I like your tattoos.”

Michael’s skin burns as Luke runs his fingers down his arm, tracing his tattoos.

“Th-thank you.” Michael stutters.

They sit there for a few minutes, not talking, just enjoying each other’s company, until Luke sighs. “I should get back to work.”

Michael straightens up. “Well, I’ll um…I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says, placing the coin on the table.

Luke smiles as he walks away.

✰✰✰

The weather has changed dramatically. It’s windy, dark clouds fill the sky, and the air is absolutely freezing.

Michael shivers and buries himself in his leather jacket as he makes his way down to the football field. He still hasn’t had a cigarette, and though his body aches for one, he repeats Luke’s words in his mind.

Barely anyone is at the fundraiser today.

The wind whips tents and blows styrofoam cups off tables.

Michael sprints across the field and squints against the wind, searching for Luke.

He’s there, wearing the same shirt and black skinny jeans torn at the knees.

“Don’t tell me you want ice cream in this weather.” He laughs when he sees Michael.

Michael shakes his head. “Just felt like donating.” He puts his coin on the table and Luke takes it with a playful scoff.

The wind whips his shirt up, exposing more of his chest, but Michael’s doesn’t notice. He’s too busy looking at his arms. Completely covered with goosebumps, and his entire body shakes.

Immediately, Michael takes his jacket off, exposing his arms to the cold.

“What are you doing?” Luke laughs.

“You need it more than I do.” He offers the shivering boy the jacket.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll manage.” He declines.

Michael rolls his eyes. “Luke, this weather isn’t gonna die down any time soon. Put on the jacket. I’m serious, you need it.”

“Really, I’m fine!” Luke smiles and steps back.

Suddenly, a large gust of wind comes and he wraps his arms around himself.

Michael sighs and steps around the wooden table.

He opens the jacket and Luke gives in, slipping into it gratefully.

He breathes in the scent as Michael zips the jacket all the way up. Coffee and cigarette smoke.

It’s way too big, and fits Luke like a dress, but he doesn’t care. It’s warm, and he likes Michael’s scent. The cigarette smoke doesn’t even make him sick like it usually does with his father.

“Thanks, Michael.” He grins, clutching the jacket sleeves.

Michael’s skin is covered with goosebumps from his neck down to his ankles, but he hides it as best he can from Luke and smiles back.

“I guess you’re gonna have to come back tomorrow to get this back.” Luke says.

Michael doesn’t stop grinning as he walks away.

✰✰✰

It’s raining. Hard. Harder than it has in ages.

Michael looks down at the football field. There are no stalls set up. It’s completely empty.

He’s wearing a thin black hoodie, and is drenched to his skin.

He sighs and starts walking away. He doesn’t know where to, just around the school.

On Monday, Luke won’t talk to him again. Michael will watch him flirt with some brain-dead jock in class, and will turn away red-faced when he catches him staring at the bare chests of the other guys in the change rooms.

Michael’s gonna become a nobody to him again. Just the kid who gets in a fight with someone in the hallway every so often, or the guy who stinks like cigarettes every time he’s late for class. He knows it, he’s nothing special. He’s not on any team, he doesn’t do extracurriculars, he sucks at school in general. The football team would dunk his head in the toilet or throw him in the pool if they weren’t so afraid of him.

He ends up at the back of the school, leaning back on the brick wall. His hair’s matted and stuck to his head, but he doesn’t bother trying to fix it.

As he puts his hands in his pockets, he touches something. His box of cigarettes. The box is drenched and crushed, but the cigarettes inside are, miraculously, fine.

He searches around for his lighter, eventually finding it in the back pocket of his jeans, and, shielding the flame as best he can from the rain and wind, he lights a cigarette and breathes in the smoke.

He hasn’t had one since Tuesday, and it fills him with relief.

Halfway through the cigarette, a voice startles him.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

He looks up. Luke stands there, an umbrella over his head and Michael’s leather jacket hung neatly over his left arm.

He’s wearing a baggy white sweater with horizontal blue stripes, and a pair of light blue jeans, along with some white Docs.

“Why are you standing in the rain?” He asks. “You’re gonna get sick.”

Michael shrugs and Luke walks over to him, shielding him from the rain with the umbrella.

“You know,” he takes the cigarette from between Michael’s fingers and flicks it onto the ground. “Smoking’s really bad for you.”

“So I’ve been told.” Michael smiles.

Luke holds his hand out and Michael looks at it for a second.

He sighs. “The cigarettes, Michael.”

Slowly, Michael takes the cigarette packet out of his pocket and places it in Luke’s outstretched palm.

“Did you know that cigarettes contain tar?” The boy puts the cigarettes in his jean pocket. “And cyanide?”

Michael chuckles. “I’m not in eighth grade.”

Luke sighs and tuts, hiding his smile.

“It’s freezing out here, what are you doing at school?” He asks, looking Michael up and down. He’s completely drenched, and Luke thanks his mother for forcing him to take an umbrella before he left home.

Michael shrugs, looking down at his feet. “I could ask you the same question.”

“I came this morning with some friends to pack up the stalls, but I figured you’d be around here somewhere, so I stayed behind and they all went home.”

“How’d you know?”

“Just a hunch.” Luke smiles.

“You should probably get home. You’ll get sick if you stay out here too long.” Michael repeats Luke’s words.

“Walk me to my car?” Luke asks him, holding out his hand for Michael to take.

Michael bites his lip, trying to stop his stomach from twisting in knots.

“Come on.” Luke giggles.

Michael quickly grabs the boy’s hand and he grins, entwining their fingers as they walk together.

Luke’s hand is soft, and feels strange against Michael’s calloused palm.

He smiles at how well their hands fit together.

As they’re walking across the basketball courts, the rain picks up, and the umbrella barely shelters them.

Immediately Luke starts running, and Michael follows, not wanting to let go of his hand.

They run until they make it to the sheltered car park, where Luke’s little white Volkswagen is parked.

Both of them stop to catch their breaths, laughing and wiping the rain out of their eyes.

“Thanks for coming these past couple of days.” Luke says after a little while. “No one really bothered to show up except you.”

“I told you, you underestimate my school spirit.” Michael replies, raising his eyebrows.

Luke laughs and lets go of Michael’s hand.

“Here’s your jacket, by the way.” He says, taking the jacket off his arm.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Michael unzips his soaking hoodie and pulls it on. It smells less like cigarettes and coffee now, though the smell lingers, and more like sweet perfume and laundry detergent.

They stand there awkwardly until Luke opens the door of the car.

Before sliding in, he leans up and kisses Michael on the cheek softly.

Michael’s face heats up and he hides his shaky hands behind his back. “I…um-”

“I’ll see you on Monday.” Luke smiles, starting up the engine.

As he drives away, Michael brushes his hand across his face, his stubble poking his fingertips.

Summary: For $100, Calum pushes Michael to embarrass Luke in front of half the school. What Michael doesn’t expect is a headlock that makes him see stars and a face-full of pepper spray.

Word count: 1,707

Warnings: None

A/N: Hi I haven’t posted in ages. If you want to unfollow me I promise I won’t be mad 😂. This story is pretty ridiculous, but you know what? I don’t really care. Okay I’m rambling now but uhhhhhhhhh shit I don’t know. My head’s all over the place right now. Hence why I haven’t posted in months. Okay anyway please send me prompts so I can get out of this writer’s block pls and thanks k love you bye 

-

"$10."

"Fuck off."

"$15."

"No!"

"$20."

"Shut up!"

Michael shoots a glare at his best friend.

"Come on! It'll be funny!" Calum grins.

"When has harassing strangers ever been funny?" Michael scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"You used to do this all the time!"

"Yeah, when I was 14."

"Just go over to him and tell him!"

"No fucking way."

"It's Luke Hemmings. He'll probably take it as a compliment."

"Just because he wears that stuff doesn't mean he sleeps around."

"Michael, come on. You know damn well he sleeps around, no matter what he wears."

Michael looks over at the young boy grabbing books out of his locker. The white skirt hanging from his waist is definitely too small, but Michael knows he doesn't care.

Luke was one of the first people Michael laid his eyes on when he moved to this school. Constantly in dresses and heels, he isn't easy to miss.

Michael sighs. "Can you just leave it? M-"

"$100, and I'll do your homework for a month."

"How desperate are you?! Jesus, you're such a fucking tool," he throws his hands in the air, annoyed.

"True, but are you gonna refuse?" Calum smirks, crossing his arms.

Michael looks from the ridiculous boy next to him and back to Luke a few times, gritting his teeth.

"You're gonna fucking pay for this," he jabs his finger into Calum's chest.

"Make it believable!" Calum calls as Michael begins to walk away.

With a large sigh and another glare at the dark haired boy, he saunters past Luke, hands deep in his pockets.

And in the most genuine voice he can muster, he calls out to the boy across the corridor.

"Nice legs, sweetheart! Did you wear that for me?!"

He speedily walks away, cringing at the stupid sentence. 

‘Why did you say that? Why did you agree to that? Who cares about $100?! You sound like a dick. Wh-’

Before he can take another step, he's being thrown into the lockers, an arm pressed up against his throat.

"What did you just say to me?" Luke whispers dangerously as he watches Michael struggle for air.

The older boy sputters, tapping Luke's arm frantically.

The entire corridor has gone dead silent, eyes wide, but Luke couldn't care less.

"You say anything like that to me ever again and I'll chop off your entire dick with a butter knife. Do you understand?" he growls.

Michael's eyes bug out of his head. He nods quickly.

The moment he steps back, Michael is falling to the floor, holding his neck, gulping in breaths.

"Get the hell out of my face."

He does as he's told, scrambling onto his feet, running from the boy as fast as he can.

Luke stands up straight, walking the other way coolly, his heels clicking against the linoleum floor.

-

Michael has been staring at the boy across the corridor for more than ten minutes, leaning against his locker, trying to figure out what he can say to him.

Refusing to stand there any longer, he sighs deeply, rubbing his face before walking over to him.

He clears his throat, and is met with a car key a few inches from his eye.

His hands shoot up, surrendering to the young boy, who glares at him for a few seconds before walking off.

"W-wait!" Michael chases after him.

"Unless you want a face-full of pepper spray, I'd back off," Luke says nonchalantly.

"I-I just want to talk to you! I'm sor-"

"Don't be. Just leave me alone before I change my mind."

"But, I-"

Before he knows what's happening, a can of pepper spray is looking him right in his face.

"I wasn't kidding. Back off."

Michael sighs, scrunching up his eyes. "I didn't want to say that bullshit. My friend, Calum-"

"I truly and genuinely do not care."

"Please just hear me out."

"What part of 'leave me alone' don't you understand?"

"I'm not that kind of person-"

"Are you really trying to tell me this while there's a can of pepper spray a centimetre away from your eyes?"

"I'm willing to take the risk if you'll just listen to me."

With an annoyed sigh, Luke lowers the can slightly. "Why? was it a bet? A dare?"

"Yes! He promised me $100!"

"And you'd take $100 to verbally abuse and objectify somebody? In front of half the school? Which isn't even embarrassing. It's borderline mortifying. You'd make somebody feel like a piece of meat and like everybody was staring at them-"

"I-"

"And you'd be willing to make them feel unsafe, and like everybody around them is staring at their legs and their ass, just for a piece of paper?"

"I'm poor as shit!"

Luke's face flushes red as he pulls out his wallet from his bag.

Before Michael can open his mouth, the younger boy is pouring every cent in the little wallet onto the floor in front of him.

Notes and coins go flying every-which-way, and-without batting an eye-Luke stomps off down the corridor, leaving Michael dazed and utterly confused, once again.

-

As Luke jumps down the stairs to the kitchen, he sighs.

The past two days have been complete hell. If he so much as catches sight of that red-haired, punk wannabe, ball of grease, he's driving a heel straight up his ass.

Quickly, he runs through the kitchen, grabbing an apple off the table and grabbing his bag.

Just before he can get out the door, his father's voice is behind him.

"Luke."

He turns around.

"Morning, warden," he smiles awkwardly at the man, who is clad in his police uniform.

"Am I seeing things or did I catch you stealing a can of pepper spray from my office?"

Luke puffs out his cheeks. "I'll give it back, I promise."

"Luke, what are you doing with a can of pepper spray?"

"I just...I need it."

"For what?!"

"Dad-"

"Luke."

There's a long silence before Luke rubs his face.

"There's just...this guy at school-"

"Did he hurt you?"

"N-no...no...he just...he said something about me. I just..." he groans. "I need to make sure I'm safe, alright?"

His father eases off, taking a step back.

"Okay. But it's back in my office by Saturday."

"Yeah."

"And if this boy lays a finger on you-"

"I-I know, dad."

The older man smiles softly. "Give 'em hell."

"I learnt from the best."

And with that, Luke is walking out the door.

As he steps down the first stair, his blood runs cold at the boy in front of him, sitting in a shiny black car with red leather seats. Not what Luke would expect a 'poor as shit' boy to own.

"Oh, so you're a stalker, too?!" Luke is fuming, bruising the apple in his hand.

"No, I...I can't relax knowing that you think I'm like that."

"Oh, so this is about you wanting me to know how incredible and noble you are. News flash, I don't care."

"Please would you just listen to me? I'll give you a ride to school."

"After calling out that I have nice legs and totally objectifying me? No, thanks. I'd rather take the sewer pipes."

"Please. I don't want you to hate me. And I don't want you to feel unsafe around me."

"Just leave me alone! Jesus Christ, how fucking hard is it?!"

As the boy opens his mouth, Luke's body begins to burn.

Before he can stop himself, he's lobbing the apple in his hand right at the red-haired boy.

It hits him directly in the face.

Luke holds his head high as Michael sits there, holding his face, and makes his way down the sidewalk, adjusting his bag.

"Jesus fucking Christ, kid. You ever thought about trying out for softball?!"

Luke doesn't turn around, but he can hear the car following him.

"Just let me give you a ride to school. Please?"

Luke wants to scream. How stupid can you be?!

"If I get in your fucking car, will you leave me the fuck alone?!" he spins around so fast he's surprised he doesn't get whiplash.

"I swear. I'll never talk to you again."

With a groan, he shakes his head and jumps into the backseat.

"Okay, look, I'm sorry for what I said. Really, genuinely sorry. It was pathetic."

"Yeah, it was. Is this something you normally do, or is it just because you thought you could say it and get away with it, because you think I'm some kind of prissy little child that can't defend themselves?"

"I wasn't thinking. At all. Calum promised me $100 and a guarantee that he'd do my homework for a month. It wasn't worth it."

"What kind of dumbass agrees to saying that to somebody just for a little less homework?"

"Because I'm poor and I'm a total idiot. Calum's the smart one, not me. I've never gotten anything above a C. He gets all A's, even if he doesn't look like it."

"If you're trying to make me feel sorry for you-"

"I'm not. Not at all. I just don't want you to look at me as some kind of airhead that goes around shouting shit like that to whoever I want. And I don't want you to be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt a fly, honest to God."

"Well, whether you meant it or not, it was still a total dick move."

"I-I know. I know it was. And I promise I won't say anything like that to you again."

"Or anybody else."

"Right. Or anybody else."

Luke sighs, taking his hand out of his bag.

"Where the hell did you learn to throw like that?" Michael says after a few minutes of silence. "And where'd you get the pepper spray?"

"My mom's a personal trainer. My dad's a cop. I got taught how to defend myself when I was 6."

"Sounds pretty intense."

"I grew up with an army of athletes. Mom's a personal trainer, Dad's a cop, one of my brothers is off at a football college, the other's training for the military. I'm pretty sure they'd have killed me if I didn't know how to play football or defend myself."

"So...how'd you end up like this?"

Luke narrows his eyes, which Michael sees in the mirror and jumps. "I-I-I just mean...I mean...you'd think that if you were raised like that...you'd end up like your brothers..."

Luke rolls his eyes. "I guess. I don't know. I'm the only gay one in the family. I don't know how brains or genes work. It just...happened."

"Right...sorry."

Eventually, they're in the school parking lot, looking out at the bustling students.

Luke sighs, picking up his bag and vaulting out of the car.

"You're still not completely forgiven, by the way. And especially not your dumbass friend," he says before he walks off.

Michael lifts his eyebrows in protest, but instead of trying to defend himself, he sighs.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I kicked him straight in the balls for what he made me do!" he calls as Luke walks up the steps.

Will I Catch Up To Love I Can Never Tell // Muke

Sequel to Mr. Houdini You’re A Freak Show

Michael never thought in his seventy three years of life he would be standing in the sold out stadium, watching his favorite artist. He didn't think it would ever be okay for the young man in front of him to be wearing a skirt, and he didn't think it would ever be okay to hold the other man's hand. Michael didn't think he would live so long to watch the world turn.

Michael was thankful how much the world changed. He was thrilled to see young men falling in love every day in the exact same way he did. He is thankful that they don't get as much ridicule, and bullying as he did. He is happy they get to fall in love in peace, and live happily together.

sorry im replying so late but here’s a couple of good muke fics ive read! 

five in the morning and it all comes out pouring (not chaptered, short lil read but super super cute)

Arcadia (chaptered, one of my all time favorites. if you have a lot of time, read this!!) 

the only reason (read this a while ago, kinda angsty but i loooved it) 

but here’s my book mark tag of all the good stuff i’ve read :-)

pairing: luke/michael

word count: 1700

read on AO3

Luke was always the first awake in the house. He didn’t mind, he enjoyed the silence as the sun rose in the sky, until the whir of distant lawn mowers and chirps of birds outside the window interrupted it. It gave him time to prop up against the headboard and slip his glasses onto his nose to scroll through the latest news and buzzfeed articles on his ipad as his husband slept soundly by his side. It was his moment of peace before the chaos of his day.

Over the years, Luke had become very good at waking Michael up. When he was bored of the silence and being alone, he slid back into the covers beside the sleeping man, and nudged up into his space. Luke would whisper his name, soft and sweet, while gently scratching at the scruff that lined his jaw. “Mike, I’ll make you breakfast if you wake up,” Luke bargained as Michael’s eyelids began to flutter. The older man let out a hum to notify his husband he was awake, settling his arms around the blonde man’s waist as he opened his eyes. “Morning, muffin.” Luke beamed.