Dynasty Decapitated

Let's Cause A Scene (Like Lovers Do)

((Title from Indie Rock and Roll by The Killers. Michael and Calum on top. 

-Mel))

Luke crosses his arms over his chest and turns towards the window, nose pushed in the air slightly so Michael understands he's pissed off. Michael, unfortunately, doesn't understand body language (More likely, he doesn't care), and is animatedly singing along to A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton. He's tapping on the steering wheel and singing at the top of his lungs, shaking his shoulders and hips in the driver's seat.

Luke huffs after a minute or two. He reaches over and rips the aux cord out of the car's radio, abruptly cutting off the music and leaving Michael screeching in a solo. Michael slumps when he realizes his song's been cut and shuts his mouth. Not that Luke can fucking see it.

"Are you," Michael pauses and looks over to Luke in the passenger seat for a second before returning his eyes to the road. "Are you mad at me?"

Luke turns his glare ask onto his boyfriend, all dolled up in his red and black suit, and readjusts his firm arm crossing. They roll to a stop at a traffic light, so Michael glances over and quickly turns back around when he catches sight of Luke's pissed off expression.

"Is it the su-" he asks carefully.

Luke shouts over the end of his statement. "Yes, it's the fucking suit!"

Michael doesn't answer, probably because he knows exactly how to piss Luke off. Luke scowls and turns back to the window. Luke seethes and broods silently while the light turns green again and waits until the next stoplight to speak.

"Take it off," he demands.

"Take it- I mean, yeah, I'm gonna, how will I fuck people if I don't, you know?" Michael glances over and wiggles his eyebrows- that much Luke can see because of how snug the red fabric is over his nose. Luke glares at him, so Michael quickly turns back to the road. "Just not right now. I don't like to, you've seen me."

"Unfortunately," Luke mutters, turning his nose up at the window again.

Michael scoffs, but Luke doesn't believe he's actually offended for a single second. "Come on, it'll be fine, Luke. Just- I don't know just don't look at me! I know it'll be hard, but-"

"Just once," Luke huffs as he readjusts his arms,which are still crossed over his chest. "Just once I'd like to go out with you and not your fucking-" Luke gestures to his red and black suit wildly, while Michael blinks at him. Eventually, he finishes with, "Your fucking persona!"

As if on cue, the light in front of them turns green, and a loud thud sounds around their car, which jolts violently. Luke shrieks and grabs onto Michael's bicep on instinct. There's a lump of what appears to be clothes and, probably, a human laying limp across the hood of their car. One hand is outstretched so bloodstained fingers are resting lightly on their windshield, while more of the dark liquid spills down the hood and onto the pavement below.

Michael reaches forward with the arm that isn't in Luke's death grip and flicks the windshield wipers on. Silently, they both watch the black blades slide across the glass and knock the hand off, letting it fall to the hood with a quieter thump. Unfortunately, that use makes blood smear across the lower half of their windshield.

Luke releases Michael's bicep and smacks him upside the head, eliciting a quiet but bitter "Hey!" from him.

"Do something," Luke gestures frantically to the front of their car.

Michael copies him and gestures to the blood smear. "I did!" The car behind them honks it's horn, so Michael holds up his middle finger and gives Luke a pointed look.