twenty four

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twenty four

Luke hunched over the toilet, tears rolling down his eyes at he let his contents flow from his stomach. His knees rested on the ground, his back arched.

Michael moved his arm over to Luke's side, surprised when his hand hit their mattress instead. He opened half an eye, finding the sheets thrown off the bed.

He sat up, cracking his neck from side to side. Mike ran a hand through his dark hair, still looking fairly lost.

Groans were coming from the en suite bathroom as Michael finally got out of bed. He walked over to the closed door, raising his athletic shorts higher up his waist. "Babe?" He called out, knocking a single knuckle on the door.

"I hate everything," Luke responded in a weak voice. He reached a clammy hand to the knob of the toilet, flushing it quickly. He fell backwards, leaning his head on the bathtub siding.

"Can I come in?" Michael asked, peaking his head through the door anyways. He caught sight of his unusually pale fiancé, his eyes closed shut and face scrunched up.

Mike kneeled next to Luke, placing the back of his hand to Luke's steaming hot head. He stood back up, going to the cabinet to grab a deep blue wash cloth. He rinsed the cloth underneath cold water, carefully placing it over Luke's eyes and forehead.

The sun was rising over the hills, the bathroom having a natural blue glow from the sun roof above.

"What's up, Buttercup?" Mike asked, still in a quiet tone. He sat next to the blonde, pulling his frail body onto Mike's lap. Luke groaned out in pain as he rested his head on his lover's thighs.

"I don't feel well."

Soft hands brushed through Luke's flat hair, scrunching at his scalp. "I see that."

Luke groaned once more, curling himself up into a tight ball. His head hurt, his feet hurt, his stomach hurt. Overall, his entire existence hurt. "I think I'm sick."

Michael continued to run a hand through Luke's semi-sweaty hair, softly pulling at the end to get it to stay off of his forehead. "You should stay home until this is over, rest up a bit."

The blonde closed his eyes tighter, stars appearing in the darkness of his eyelids. He yawned, causing the back of his throat to gag.

Luke quickly shot straight up, leaning over the toilet and vomiting profusely. Michael stood on his knees behind the boy, holding his hair back with his right hand and rubbing soft circles with his left.

He felt bad for the blonde knowing that he never liked getting sick. Mike flushed the toilet for him, trying to coax him back to lean against the bath tub. "Cy is home, obviously, but I can stay back if you'd like."

Luke shook his head from left to right slowly, trying not to trigger his headache. He knew he'd be better in only a matter of time, it was just morning sickness, but Luke wasn't ready to pull his act.

It's been a week since the tests and he hasn't told his lover quite yet about the child growing inside of him. He doesn't know how to, he's never been through this before. Hell, before Michael, Luke barely had a boyfriend before.

"Let's get back to bed," Mike said, pulling at Luke slowly, "I want my last few hours of sleep." Michael stood up on his bare feet, leaning back down to pick up half-dying Luke. His arms flexed as he raised the boy in a bridal style. Carrying Luke reminded him that he really needed to head to the gym once again.

Regardless, Mike placed Luke on the left side of the bed with a kiss pressed to his forehead. He tucked him in with their summer sheets before heading to his side and making himself comfortable.

blondie [muke af]Where stories live. Discover now