thinking about you [muke af]

two

two 

Luke stirred the mac and cheese as he moved his hips to Merry Christmas, Kiss My Ass. He sung the All Time Low lyrics at full blast as his roommate scuffed, not believing he’s lived with this idiot for three years. 

“Do you know that one kid in our class?” Ashton asked, kicking his ankles against the kitchen cabinet like a five year old. He knew it annoyed Luke when he sat up there, but he did it anyways. 

“Our class has six hundred kids, you’ve gotta be more specific,” Luke answered. He moved to the sink, draining the extra liquid. 

“The one you chased after earlier.”
“I did not chase after him. I just wanted to make sure he was okay,” the blonde defended. He placed their dinner on the stove, grabbing two bowls and spoons. If it was up to Ashton, they’d be eating out of the pot every night (“less dishes!”).

“I don’t know, man, you had some hearts in your eyes.” Ashton jumped down, the noise probably bothering the cranky old women the floor below them. He grabbed a bowl, pouring himself their Spongebob-shaped dinner. 

“I don’t have a crush on Michael, leave me alone,” he whined, jutting out his lower lip into a pout. 

Ash rolled his eyes, “You have a crush on anyone who breathes.” He navigated himself around the corner and sat at their magenta-colored couch. 

Luke, being the civilized human being his mother taught him to be, sat at the small table by the window. He started to eat his macaroni, proud of himself for making such a good meal. “That’s not true. I don’t have a crush on you.”

“You did kiss me that one time.”

“I thought you were someone else!”

Michael and Calum switched between eating their Chinese take out and playing a new mission on Call of Duty. Mike put down the controller, scratching the back of his neck, “So, I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“Shut up,” Mike whined, biting his bottom lip. He positioned his body so that he was facing his best friend, his knees crossed below him. “What are we going to do when we graduate? I don’t really have anything set up.”

“Well, you’re going to go gig more than you are now, do some self-tours, then you’ll get signed, and go on bigger tours,” Calum said, digging a fork into his cashew chicken. “I’ll be your photographer, and we’ll see the world like we always wanted.”

Michael shrugged his shoulder, “I’m just scared it’s not going to work out. Like, I’ve been working so hard for so long, and I feel like it won't ever pay off.”

“You’ve worked so hard, I know you have. It’s going to pay off soon, you’ll be on the charts, on the magazines, you’ll be everywhere,” Cal reassured him. 

Michael sighed, kicking his feet out until they were between Calum’s hips and the cushions. He let his head fell to the arms of their beat up couch. When he was younger, he promised his parents that when he was older, he would make them proud. He’s older now—much older—and he feels like he hasn’t made them proud. He’s not sure he ever will.

Ashton moved over with a groan as Luke pushed him to his side of the couch. The blonde hit his roommates’ legs, ushering them off of the glass coffee table. “I hate living with you.”

“Is it weird to think that this is our last semester as grad students? Like, we’re actually adults after this,” Luke ignored Ashton, going on with his own thoughts instead.

“You’ve been an adult for, like, five years now.” Ash was already on his third bowl of mac and cheese, his curly brown hair was falling over his eyes as he leant down to eat a spoonful. Luke was only slightly disgusted.

“I don’t want to grow up.” Luke wanted to be the small seven year old again, running around the playground and crying when he fell and scraped his knobby knees. He wanted to be nine and hiding the 65% on his math test. He doesn’t want to be twenty three, crying to his mother because he can’t find a job. He doesn’t want to be twenty three, nobody likes you when you’re twenty three. 

“Go get laid.”