the last brushstroke destroys the painting [muke af]

twenty five

twenty five

Michael had his arm around Luke's back a few nights later. He let the blonde boy sob, his heavy head dropping tears onto Michael's pajama shirt. Mike rubbed his fingers in a soothing circe around Luke's spine. Every time a body-shaking sob would escape, he'd pull Luke a little close, just to remind him that's he's not alone.

"I'm sorry," Luke whispered.

"Don't apologize."

"I'm such a fucking mess." Luke laughed through the tears. He brought his dry fingers to his eyes, wiping away the remains of a few tear drops.

"It's okay to be sad sometimes," Michael told him. His tone was hushed. Even though they were the only two in Michael's large loft, he still felt it was accurate to stay quiet at this ungodly hour of the night.

"But I'm always sad, Mike. I keep having all these breakdowns, and, fuck—." Luke coughed, his throat sore from the constant strain.

"Hey, if you're going through hell, keep going."

"Stop quoting Winston Churchill when I'm sad." Luke leant down once more, leaning his head on Michael's chest. He wrapped his arm around the boy's waist, his fingers pulling at the soft tee shirt material.

Mike kissed the top of his hair. At least he was showered, that was a good sign. Michael was looking for all the signs to see how deep Luke has truly fallen. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure what to say, I wish I did." His hands fell down Luke's back before pulling him up the bed. They were face to face.

Michael stared into the battered face of the love of his life. His eyes were sunken deep, they weren't radiating color, they weren't showing any sign of life. His lips were chapped and bleeding from the constant biting. He blinked his eyes a few times before looking down. He wasn't able to stare at Mike like he's done so many times before.

He looked at their entwined bodies instead. He starts to wonder where he'd be if the cocky purple-haired teenager didn't walk in on his shift late one night. He'd be dead, he's sure of it.

"I think you're the only thing keeping me alive," Luke said slowly. He meant it, Michael knew he meant it.

It's not cute, it's not sweet, it's not romantic. Michael wants Luke to have a long list of things keeping him alive. He doesn't want the thought of death to ever cross Luke's mind, even when he's 99 and can't breathe on his own anymore.

"We can keep it that way," Michael said. "I don't mean that in a relationship way, Luke. I will always respect that you don't want to be anything more. But, we are friends. I care about you more than I have ever cared about anything in the entire world."

Luke broke out into tears once more. He was scared that one day he would indeed take a bullet to the head and leave Michael alone in this ugly, ugly world.

"Don't cry, baby. We're gonna get through this."

"It's been so long," he cried, "And nothing has changed."

Michael rubbed his back, starting up the soothing patterns once more. "But, now you have me. You were alone for so long, but you're not anymore. I promise you, you can't get rid of me. I'm going nowhere."

Luke laughed through the tears again. He was semi-laughing at how pathetic he was. He was crying on the shoulder of an eighteen-year-old that he sometimes fucks.

But, Michael has been so good to Luke. Luke sees that, Luke knows that. He can't accept it, though. He can't accept that a real life human being wants to be genuinely nice to him without being forced to.

"I know you hate the whole 'give it time' saying, but, give it time."

Luke shook his head from left to right. He has given it time, and the world has only proven him wrong. "I can't anymore."
"You can, I know you can. Life is going to stay hard for you for a bit, I don't know why, but it will. One day, you'll wake up with a smile on your face. You'll feel happy for no reason at all. All those small steps getting out of this dark hole will finally cross into light, and you will be okay again. You'll be more than okay."

"I don't remember what happy feels like," Luke admitted.

"Then it's time to start learning new things. You'll feel this pit in you stomach, you'll smile, your mind won't be hazy anymore. You'll be confused, then you'll realize it's happiness. Pure happiness.

"It'll be about something you're doing, someone you're with, or maybe just life in general. Maybe, just waking up will make you happy. You'll look back at life and say 'I'm glad to be alive'."

Luke curled close to Michael, their legs overlapping. "Do you feel happy?"

Michael looked down at him, he looked so small, so fragile. He wondered if the slightest of wind would blow over his frail body. "Yeah, I feel a bunch of different kinds of happy when you're laying here next to me. I wish you felt happy, too."

"I was content for a while, but I think I—," Luke paused, he took a deep breath, closing his eyes, "—I think I broke."

(a/n) surprise. guess who's not dead!!