forty eight

                                    

                                          


                          
          
                          
forty eight 
                          
	Luke washed over his body, the hot water from the shower head burning the skin on his shoulders. He faced away, looking down at his feet. At least he tried to. 
                          
	He still couldn't see his feet. The bump—a reminder that broke him down—would be there for a few more weeks. Then there came the baby weight, something that would take quite some time to lose, especially with Luke's current state of mind. 
                          
	He felt like it was fault. He felt like it was his fault that Michael thought it was Michael's fault. Everything felt like Luke's fault and he was miserable. 
                          
	"I'm home!" Michael called as he entered their apartment. 
                          
	Luke didn't hear him.
                          
	He stayed in the shower, slowly swaying on his feet until he could see his toes. He leant back, unable to see his toes. Then he leant forward, seeing his feet once again. 
                          
	Michael took off his shoes, throwing them into the hall closet. It was Friday—the end of another week. It was a long week, his first one back at work. 	
                          
	He knew Ashton (and Matty) were coming over every morning then leaving in the early afternoon by the pots of mac and cheese residue left in their kitchen sink. Sometimes Ash would still be doing the dishes when Mike got home. 
                          
	He was a good friend for Luke. 
                          
	Today was Friday, though, which meant Matty was partying and Ashton was home babysitting his siblings. It was Luke's first day completely alone since the loss of their child and Michael wasn't sure how it went. 
                          
	He knew that if he didn't let Luke stay alone then he would never become the independent queen he used to be. Michael wanted to hold him for hours and promise to never let go. He wouldn't let go, he never would. 
                          
	Michael pulled off his button down and stripped his undershirt and slacks. He stood at the closed bathroom door in his briefs and socks, debating if he was allowed to go in.
                          
	"Luke?" He called, knocking on the door. He could see the steam and knew Luke has been in there for hours. 
                          
	"In here," he said underneath his breath. Luke knew Michael couldn't hear him but he wasn't able to raise his voice any more. 
                          
	Mike opened the door, a hot gust of steam brushing through the doorway. "Can I join?" He closed the door behind them once more, stepping closer to the shower door. 
                          
	"Yeah," he said, a little louder. 
                          
	Michael finished undressing himself before stepping underneath the hot water. He stepped behind Luke, protecting him from the scalding water. Mike reached behind him, turning the shower knob to the right in order to cool the water.
                          
	He pressed his lips to Luke's shoulders, then to his neck, then to a space between his ear and hairline. "How're you feeling?" He asked quietly, knowing he didn't have to talk so loudly while so close to Luke. 
                          
	"I don't know," the blonde responded. He rested his chin downwards, close to his own collarbones. 	
                          
	"That's okay," Michael responded. He wrapped his arms around Luke's waist, pulling him closer until they were skin to skin. "What did you do all day?"
                          
	"I'm not sure." Luke remembers waking up, he remembers eating the breakfast Michael left him in the fridge. He remembers turning on the television and watching reality shows until noon. He ate the lunch Michael left him. He went upstairs and blacked out. 
                          
	Luke wasn't sure what he did between noon and four. He simply existed. Existed in bed with his eyes at the ceiling. 
                          
	"Okay," Michael said. He slowly swayed them to a beat in his own head, humming out from the back of his throat. "You know I love you, right?" 
                          
	"Yeah."
                          
	"I love you," he said once more.
                          
	"I love you, too, Mikey." Luke rested into his lover's hands, closing his eyes. 
                          
	"Do you remember the first time you told that you loved me?" Michael asked. He kissed the shell of Luke's ear slowly, completely filled with lust. 
                          
	The younger boy nodded, "You didn't move for a solid five minutes."
                          
	He let out a chuckle, "I was scared, to be honest. I don't know what I was so scared of, though. It was the beginning to my everything."
                          
	The corners of Luke's lips curled into the tiniest of a smile. "Me too."
                          
	"I can't wait for our future, Luke," Michael said, "No matter where it takes us."