blondie [muke af]

seventeen

seventeen

"Luke, tell Michael about online school," Cy demanded as they sat at a coffee shop around one in the afternoon. It wasn't much of a lunch, but it was enough to last until dinner. Then their second dinner. And some midnight snacks. 

"Gladly! I could write an entire thesis about this." Luke sat up straight, turning towards his boyfriend, "Alright, Mr. Clifford, ask me questions."

Michael smiled, letting a small chuckle leave from his lips. He wiped the crumbs from his upper lip before speaking, "I just don't feel like it's a real school, don't get all defensive on me."

"It really is, Mike. There's a certain number of hours you have to do each week. You have to be in contact with your teacher weekly. They follow all the same standards the state does, just in a more mentally-satisfying way."

Michael looked at Cy, "I just want what's best for you."

"But I'm miserable. Why can't you be more like Luke? Can he be my legal guardian instead?"

Luke laughed, tearing apart the croissant in front of him. "Cy could come to the office with us. He'd have so much fun."

"School isn't supposed to be fun," Michael said, kicking his boyfriend under the table.

"It's not supposed to be dismal, though," Luke shot back. Over the past few weeks, he's started to grow brotherly-type of connection with Cy, he feels like he needs to protect the younger boy. 

They eat breakfast together almost every morning, chatting over random nonsense. Luke really likes Cy, and Cy really like Luke. 

"When are you gonna move in with us?" Cyril asked, wiping his over-grown fringe from his eyes, "I need this type of persuasion at all hours of the day."

Luke smiled a ridiculous smile between bites of his mini-lunch, "Soon, maybe."

"Or now?" Michael offered, "I mean you practically spend every minute at home anyways."

Luke rolled his eyes, "But then, a month later, you're gonna tell me I don't need to work, that you'll pay for everything."

"Well, yeah," Mike spoke expressions with his hands as he shrugged, "That's kind of the point."

"I just don't want to be that type of person." He crossed his leg, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, "You saw the way people were looking at me at the restaurant last night."

"I did?"

"Yeah, especially after they saw me sit with you. I'm, like, the gossip of the industrial world. I don't want people to think I'm a gold digger," Luke responded. 

"No one thinks you're a gold digger," Cy cut in. "People respect you."

"I just feel like it sometimes." Luke never liked his insecurities show. He liked pretending to be a big power-house type of person. He liked pretending to be tougher than he is. He liked pretending to have a quick mouth, always up for a fight. 

But, that's not who he is. He's a weak boy who cries too often. 

Michael tilted his head to left, not liking his princess to be feeling so low. "Don't be like that. Who cares if the lady with the fake Chanel bag thinks you're using me for my money? I know you're not, you know you're not. It doesn't matter."

Luke sighed, wishing he didn't bring it up. 

"So, move in with us," Cy broke the silence, causing a smile to rise on Luke's stressed face. 

The blonde looked at Michael, waiting for some type of reaction. "There's no harm, I'll let you make it all artsy like your shitty apartment," Michael added, "I'll let you buy new furniture, too, because I know you hate our living room."

"Nothing matches! Why would you have brown pillows on a black couch?!" Luke defended, "And stop calling my apartment shitty, I love it."

"Just move in before I slowly take your stuff without you noticing."