his majesty - michaelandluke

1.1

Luke

The sun shined in through the window, making me squint my eyes and curl into the warm chest of my prince.

"mmm. Good morning, my little Lukey." Michael spoke, his voice low and husky. That was still literally the hottest thing I've ever heard and I'm still not used to it.

"Morning, oh great and powerful." I joked, kissing his cheek. I saw him smile and shake his head, amusement sweeping his features.

"I am pretty great, huh?" He said, playing along. "The best." I confirmed, actually meaning it.

"So, I was thinking.." Michael started, me cutting him off.

"That's a first." I snorted, him playfully glaring at me. "Anyway, as I was saying, I was thinking....Did you want to practice sword fighting together? It would be rather interesting seeing how you would handle a sword."

I actually never thought about it and it seemed like a pretty cool idea. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Me getting stabbed? Michael would go easy on me.

"Sounds fun. Why not?" I said, smiling at his face lighting up. "Great! Let us get dressed and we can go!" He buzzed, standing up to leave my room.

Before he reached the door though, he stopped and turned around, reaching out for my hand.

I linked our fingers together and he pulled me into him, our chests pressed against the others. I felt his burning touch on my hips and I curled my fists into the base of his neck.

"But not before this." He said, pressing our lips together. I swooned inside, a smile dancing across my lips as he pulled away.

I was left with a huge grin and tingling skin, wondering how I got this damn lucky.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I ducked, Michael's sword grazing a piece of my hair.

"You said you would go easy on me!" I complained, catching my breath while Michael wasn't even breaking a sweat.

Stupid Michael and his stupid good body and his stupid face and his stupid eye-

"Luke? You there?" Michael asked, snapping his fingers in my face. "Yeah. But go easier. I feel like I'm going to pass out." I heaved, drawing my sword back.

He nodded curtly, drawing his as well. "Now!" Michael yelled, us bringing our swords down. The clanking of metal, steel, and my heavy panting were the only sounds that could be heard.

The more we fought on, the more I'd fear I'd slip and hurt myself.

Or worse, I'd hurt Michael.

And with just my luck, I tumbled over a wet patch of grass. My breath caught in my throat as I watched, In almost slow motion, as Michael's sword left its damage across my shoulder and part of my arm.

A nasty gash took up my pale skin, blood spilling out. I gasped as the pain suddenly hit me all at once and I clenched my eyes shut, screaming into my knuckles.

"Damn it! Luke! Oh god, I'm so dead jesus just bury me in the dirt right now! Wait, wait Luke! Shit! Come on! I know it hurts baby boy, I know. Cmon it'll be alright, come on." Michael stressed, picking me up bridal style and watching the tears spill from my eyes.

I howled in pain as Michael rocked me particularly hard, and he just shot me a sympathetic look.

He ran in, yelling for their doctor, which I didn't know they had. So much for telling me everything.

The doctor, I assume, ran into the room, and Michael set me down on a bed. "What happened?" He asked, examining and trying to stop the, rather heavy, blood flow.

"I accidentally hurt him when we were practicing with the swords." He wheezed, guilt laced in his erratic panting.

The doctor just shook his head and grabbed a small brown bottle, and poured it on a cotton wash cloth.

"Now, Lucas, this will hurt but it will help." The doctor wanted, waiting for my reaction. I caught a glimpse of the bottle and my stomach dropped.

Iodine.

I just nodded, Michael grabbing my hand. The doctor glanced at our intertwined fingers but didnt say anything as he pressed the cloth on my wound.

"You'll need stitching." He spoke, eyeing me.

I didn't get to respond as my eyes rolled to the back of my head, me blacking out.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

A while later I woke up in Michael's arms, it being night time already.

"He said you'd need stitching." Michael spoke, digging his face in my neck, not the damaged side, thank god.

"When is he taking them out?" I replied weakly, burying my face in his neck now. "Soon, my little angel. Soon." He whispered, playing with my hair, making me even more drowsy.

"Go to sleep, my love. You've had a long day." He coaxed, pulling the covers fully over us. I nodded and drifted off into drug-induced dreams.

AN: hello! I've had major writers block and like this was all I could come up with I'm sorry. I love you. -Franki