we don't care [muke af]

thirty seven

thirty seven

Michael's morning alarm went off once more but he failed to actually get out of bed. He turned it off—for good this time—but kept his eyes closed. He had his arm bent, shielding his eyes from the light flowing into their room.

Luke rolled onto his side (he wanted to lay on his stomach, but his thirty-week belly stopped him from that). He reached out his hand, booping Michael's nose. He did it once more before Michael let his arm fall to his side, his eyes looking down at his lover.

"What're you doing?" Michael's voice was quiet and deep and Luke found it extremely attractive. He wouldn't admit it, though.

"Annoying you," he responded.

Michael smiled a kitten smile. "Why's that?"

"You're gonna be late for work."

Mike shrugged, closing his eyes once more. "Can't I just stay here?"

Luke stretched out his cold, bare feet, placing them on Mike's thighs. He began pushing out, pushing Michael off their bed. "Get out, I want this bed to myself."

Michael tumbled to the ground, not really caring much. He got up, already beginning to strip off his layers of pajamas. "What do you even do all day?" He pulled a plaid sweater and black undershirt for his drawers, dumping the items on their en suite bathroom countertop. He headed back to the bedroom, picking out slacks and underwear.

"I lay here," Luke responded.

"That's it?" He asked with a laugh.

"It's actually not that bad. Especially when wifi exists." Luke fluffed up the pillows, surrounding himself with the comfort.

Michael put on deodorant and cologne before sliding into new clothes. "Do you want to ever learn how to drive or something?"

"Not really. I want to live in New York one day, and, like, no one drives there," he confessed.

"Really? I didn't know that."

"Now you do."

Michael ran a hand through his hair, trying to mess it up while looking as if he tried. He felt over his jaw line, debating if it was okay to skip another day of shaving. It simply took so much time and so much effort.

"Can we get a cat?"

"No." Michael began brushing his teeth, turning around to lean against the doorframe. "Maybe in some other alternative world, but not this one."

Luke rolled his eyes. He placed his hands on his stomach, softly rubbing the skin. "Can you bring me home Burger King?"

"You hate that place." He turned around to spit in the sink. He rinsed off his face then left the bathroom, his dirty pajamas in hand to be brought downstairs.

"I know, but I'm craving those chicken nuggets."

"Will you be craving that in about seven hours?" Michael sat down on their bed, crawling up the sheets and molding himself around Luke's body.

The blonde debated it. "Ask me in, like, six and a half hours, okay?"

Michael laughed. "I'll text you before I leave work." He leant up, pecking Luke's cheeks before sitting up once more, getting ready to leave. "I love you, don't forget to eat."