chapter fifteen - sleep

chapter fifteen — sleep

"I'M GONNA GO TAKE CARE OF THESE," Michael stood up, taking Ezekial's now-empty tub of baby food with him. I didn't like the color of it — it was unnaturally orange — it reminded me of Arrigo-Henry-Bitchface's summer tan when he came back from Italy last year. Bitchface was lucky he could tan naturally, but he always went the extra mile with a spray before school started. I hated it.

I used to daydream about slamming his head into the locker and painting the wall orange with his face — thoughts Dr. Gomez said weren't healthy. Marco shared my sentiments though, and sometimes we'd throw balls of paper at the back of Arrigo's head to see if they'd stick or bounce away smudged tangerine.

Ezekial slapped my thigh happily and I smiled at him. I looked over my shoulder quickly, frowning when Lukas didn't meet my gaze, his eyes focused somewhere over my shoulder and glassy. Ezekiel squealed randomly and I smiled, patting him. I'd just cleaned all the orange shit off his face, and I needed to get it off of me before I upchucked. Michael's smile flit into my head, and my lips quirked into a frown semi-automatically.

"Imma just wash my hands"

Lukas didn't respond and I frowned, heading to the kitchen. I could hear the tap running, and rounded the corner interestedly.

Michael was deep in thought, hands half in the sink, his sweater was way too big. He'd tried rolling his sleeves up, the material sagging down into the sink before he could even wash his hands. I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms and leaning against the kitchen island behind him.

"Huh?" He turned halfway, an embarrassed smile on his face. His hair drooped across his face, the ugly color of dead hay.

"Oh, hey, Kieran. Sorry, didn't see you there. I'm trying not to get my sleev—"

"—I'm not sure what you think this is, but we're not friends"

Michael's smile dropped, guarded confusion replacing his easy smile. My voice sounded flat and tinny, like a penny press. My mouth tasted like metal and I realized I'd bitten my lip too far. Michael's eyebrows drew together, his eyes never leaving my face as he dried his hands.

"I-I don't--"

"Listen," I cut him off, finally finding my stride.

"I don't know how you and Lukas ever became friends, but you need to stop using him for your stupid social-climbing shit, okay?"

"Using him?" Michael echoed, his eyes had hardened now and I was briefly taken aback at how quickly he could compose himself. His green eyes darkened, blank and apathetic before looking at me expectantly.

"You know what I mean," My mouth was twisted into an ugly scowl, my own eyes narrowed and drilling holes into the blank canvas of Michael's face. I hated how calm he was. Maybe that was why Lukas hung out with him. They were both calm, collected. Mature.

Something I could never be.

"I've seen you in the halls before school ended. You don't have any friends. You're just the weird drama club gay kid everyone knows but nobody wants to know" A sick satisfaction slithered down my back as the words left my mouth, weeks of confusion and turmoil unleashing themselves on the short boy in front of me. All of my weird feelings made sense now. The way I didn't like Michael the moment I saw him. His weird relationship with Lukas. The way I tried to see him in a different light each time.

It wasn't hate.

It was pity.

Michael looked at me impassively, completely closed off now. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest, lips pressed into a thin line. I found my eyes fall to his feet naturally, searching out the bright rainbow band around his Converse. Instead, I was met with the sight of plain white Adidas. I frowned, discomfort spawning in the back of my neck as I frantically searched his clothes for a glimpse of his rainbow.

He always had one on him. I knew it. I just didn't know where it was now. It was hidden.

"You ever wonder why Lukas was friends with me Kieran?"

My head snapped up, eyes meeting Michael's cold, green stare. He had a small bitter smile on his lips, and I felt my stomach tug anxiously like I'd done something wrong. My hand squeezed against my side, body fidgeting as my eyes continued to look for the rainbow, scanning Michael completely: his hair, his shirt, his lips.

"You don't think it's funny? A guy like Lukas and a guy like me just randomly befriending each other?"

My eyes flashed to meet his, blood boiling as my mind began to grasp the little hints he was hurling at me.

"It's too strange to be normal isn't it?" A little smug smile slid onto Michael's face, still managing to look nearly harmless. Friendly.

All the shit my Dad had told me flooded forward, a wave of blind rage hitting me momentarily. To think I had defended Michael for the sake of Lukas. Lukas trusted him, so I did too, but Lukas was too soft for his own good, and Michael too good at acting. My jaw ticked, shoulders tense and hunched. I hadn't been this riled up since the eighth grade. If I didn't calm down, take control, I was going to do something I'd regret. Michael was manipulative, and people like him were liars. I hadn't seen it before, but I wouldn't make the mistake again.

"Don't you fucking dare drag Lukas into this," My voice came out abnormally quiet, and for a brief second Michael's walls cracked and something like fear filtered out. I wasn't used to people fearing me, but it was a feeling I didn't particularly regret causing.

"He's not a fucking queer. He just pities you 'cause he's fucking soft sometimes. He tries to fix things, and he thinks he can fix you" My fingers slowly flexed, palm rigidly bending to form a fist. I stretched my hand out, remembering that Lukas and Ezekiel were in the next room.

And that Michael would always be more believable than me.

"I think we both know that you can't fix what I have, Kieran," Michael's voice was soft, piteous. I looked up at him again, shock and rage filling my head until that's all I could feel.

"How would you know? You've never even tried to fix yourself, have you? I—"

Michael's eyes flashed, grabbing onto whatever words could help him float. Little did he know stones didn't float.

"-I've seen it done. I think you could." Michael's eyes shimmered with surprise, the emotion bubbling and sinking back down into his impassive depths.

"I'm flattered that you believe in me so strongly," Michael smiled, a sad little thing that made my stomach churn uncomfortably.

"You really think I could change?" Michael laughed dryly, sarcasm seeping into his throat.

"What about my bracelet? You like it, Kieran?" He rolled his sleeve back up, the rainbow I'd been searching for finally presenting itself to me. I felt myself decompress, the corners of my lips turning up.

"Yeah, I fucking love it"

Michael chuckled, unfazed by my sarcasm.

"Might wanna go make sure I didn't infect Lukas," Michael smiled again, the coldness of his eyes unnatural and strange.

"I will"

I turned to leave, hastily wiping my hands off on a kitchen towel so I wouldn't have to go any closer to Michael. I heard Ezekiel blabbering the room over and cautiously drew my lips into a smile.

"Why're you so obsessed with shirts, huh?"

Lukas was squished into the couch, arms awkwardly cradling Ezekiel as the baby lay sprawled out in his lap. His shirt was in Ezekiel's mouth, the sneak casting me a sly baby-look as Lukas patted his head gently. Lukas looked sad, and I felt my stomach deflate, anger at Michael swelling.

How fucking dare he use Lukas?

My chest tightened uncomfortably and I wanted nothing more than to walk back into the kitchen and kick Michael out. But Lukas wouldn't understand, and I didn't want him to hate me. Never.

I sat down on the couch next to Lukas, almost instantly falling asleep as a wave of warmth washed over me. I hadn't slept at all the day before, and even though that was normal I was still tired as hell. I edged closer to Lukas, trying to keep myself awake and catch any glimpse of a rainbow. I couldn't see any, and my shoulders automatically relaxed with relief.

"He's teething"

I leaned over him, scanning his pants for any little color I could find. They were plain though, save for Ezekiel taking up space. He eyed me suspiciously. I poked his cheek, making a weird face and he finally relented with a chubby grin. I leaned back into the couch, breath catching when Lukas' thigh pressed into mine. I looked at him quickly for a reaction, but his eyes were focused on the little dude in front of us.

He can't be— Michael's a fucking liar.

"How'd you know he's teething?"

"Huh?" I feigned confusion, the back of my neck prickling when I realized how close Lukas and I were. Ezekial made another baby sound, clambering down from Lukas' lap to patrol the room.

When Ezekiel was born I'd read over twenty books on childcare to prepare myself. But I couldn't tell Lukas that. He'd think I was soft. I didn't want Lukas to think I was soft.

Michael could be soft though. He could be whatever, and Lukas wouldn't mind.

"Oh, Michael told me. He knows a lot about babies and stuff," The lie rolled out of me naturally and I distracted myself from the guilt by snatching Ezekiel as he ran past. He eagerly settled in my arms, grabbing onto my shirt with his little fists and trying to sleep against my chest. He was warm and soft to hold and Lukas' firm heat pushed against my side.

"I'm fu-" Oh shit I'm holding a baby, "-fricken tired"

"Same," Lukas slid away from me and my side froze on contact with the air. I held still, trying not to slide over and collapse on him. Ezekiel eyed me weirdly, sleepy hand reaching out to grab at Lukas.

No. Bad baby.

He successfully grabbed ahold of Lukas' pants and I slid over so Ezekiel could lay on both our laps, a content smile on his face. I smiled, one hand one him so he wouldn't roll off. Lukas stiffened next to me and I looked at him quickly, grinning sheepishly when he met my gaze.

I laid my head on the back of the chair, comfortable tiredness seeping in. I was just gonna take a nap. Lukas wouldn't mind, I was sure. He knew that I had trouble sleeping at night anyway. I needed to take advantage of the moment and sleep.

Forget about Michael and sleep.

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I was having a weird dream. It was like I was a set of eyeballs zooming around a hospital, where DJ was a nurse. He was wearing one of those cheap Halloween nurse costumes though, and it didn't suit him at all. It was almost comically small on him, his muscled arms nearly tearing through the fabric every time he moved. Marco, scarily enough, was the doctor in charge of the patient I wanted to see. I couldn't remember who it was though. I'd followed them into a room, my invisible feet frozen into place when I recognized the lump under the sheet.

Lukas.

I could never manage to speak in dreams though, so I'd zoomed forward, only to recoil in terror as Lukas lurched upright, magically holding a bucket and spewing the content of his stomach into it. I gagged, stuck in place when DJ grabbed the bucket for him and threw it over his shoulder, all the shit inside splashing over me. Roger ran towards me (out of nowhere), paper towels in hand, but it was too late. It was starting to stain. From somewhere over my shoulder, Michael laughed.

It wasn't even chunks of Lukas' lunch: the motherfucker was throwing up rainbows.

And now, I was covered in them.

I slowly stirred, my mind foggy and unclear like I was trying to crawl out from under a net. My dreams are so fucking weird. I felt so comfortably warm it was unreal. I snuggled further into the sheet and my mattress. It was soft, but firm, slowly moving up and down as I breathed.

As it breathed.

My breath caught as my heart lurched to my stomach, my hands clutching the sheet tighter around me. I turned my head from its side, propping my chin up gently on the stomach of the person below me. My hands slowly slid out from under me, trying to find a way to push myself off the familiar body.

They murmured something gently and my eyes widened.

Lukas.

His arms slid around my waist, locking me into place. I fell flat on him, his touch burning like ice. My shirt had slid up ever so slightly, and all I could feel was the skin of his forearm pressing against the small of my back. My face was stuffed into the crook between his shoulder and his jaw, any movement I made with my mouth feeling like a kiss.

What the everlasting fuck do I do?

I couldn't tell him to fuck off since I would practically be necking him and that was gay. I couldn't forcibly roll off him since he'd wake up, see that I was straddling him like some bitch and that was gay.

This was a very fucking gay situation.

A very fucking bad situation.

I could feel panic start to consume me, my heart hiccuping loudly as Lukas' hands started to wander. His breaths were still deep, his body very happily asleep and very happily unaware. One of his hands started to slide down, past my shoulders. My back arched forwards, trying to avoid contact with his anything, but it only made me press further into him.

His hand kept going, past my lower back.

My heart just about froze.

His hand is on my ass.

I stopped breathing, feeling my eyes blur as I desperately tried to pass out so I'd forget about the whole thing. Jesus, smite me now. I was just starting to breathe again, trying not to make a lot of noise, when his hand shifted again.

And squeezed.

I screamed, pushing off of Lukas' chest so fast I could've rivaled a CPR professional. He wheezed, eyes snapping open as he clutched at his chest. He looked around wildly, eyes catching me on the floor, my face screwed up in pain as I tried not to scream from the pain running up my tailbone.

"Oh shit, you good Keke?"

No.

"Yeah. Yup. No."

I stood up shakily, dusting my hands off and refusing to meet his gaze. He looked back at me, and then to the blanket, his face warming to a soft pink. As soon as I started to see his blush settle in, mine started, only it was a splotchy ugly red. I kept my eyes cast down, still reliving everything. I could feel his warmth. His hands.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd cuddled with someone. Usually, when I fucked around, I was kicked out of the house before I could even suggest staying the night. But Lukas and I didn't even fuck around, we'd just fallen asleep.

Don't think about shit like that.

"Did we, uh," Lukas blushed more, a smooth motion that made him look like a fucking actor in a movie. His hair was messed up, but it looked fucking fine on him.

"Sleep? Uh, toge—on the couch? Are you sor—okay? Fuck"

Oh fuck, I probably look like shit.

I turned on my heel, ignoring Lukas' spluttering calls for me. I needed a cold shower to knock me back into reality. Maybe a shot of vodka too, just so I could forget it all over again.

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2653 words

Hey guys! I hope you're all doing well.

What do you think?

Sorry to burst anyone's bubble that Kieran and Michael got along. Next chapter should be interesting — I'm excited for it. I'm tired though.

I hope you all have a lovely week :) stay safe <3