forty five

Michael wipes at his eyes. He's leaning over the kitchen counter and trying to stop crying. He's not going to go upstairs to a sobbing Luke with tears in his own eyes. He needs to be the strong figure in Luke's life at the moment, and apparently crying shows weakness.

He can hear a television series playing from Luke's laptop in the loft above. Between the muffled sounds of his computer are tiny huffs of his true sadness.

Luke hasn't moved since they got home from the hospital one week ago. Mike is pretty sure it's going to be another few days until Luke's willing to move or shower or say more than a few words.

Mike was sure he was able to breathe again without crying before he took a plate full of cold pizza and began heading up the stairs. Michael has been getting Luke everything he loves, he just wants the small blonde to feel something more than just mental pain.

Michael stays quiet, not wanting to spook Luke. He can see his partner's blue eyes watching him crawl into bed, placing the serving plate in between their two bodies. He doesn't say a word, neither of them dare say a word.

Luke reaches a hand out from the many covers, taking a slice and biting into it. "Thanks," he whispered. Luke crawls deeper into the sheets, his head in between a few pillows.

"How're you feeling?" Michael asked, his voice equally as quiet.

He shrugged, his eyes focused on the computer screen, even though he wasn't watching any of it.

"Do you wanna get out today?"

Luke shook his head.

"That's okay."

"Are you going to work today?" These sentences were the most Luke spoke in eight days and it was probably going to be the most he'd speak in eight weeks.

"No," he responded.

"You don't have to stay home with me. You don't need to be a pathetic mess, too."

Michael moved the computer away, making sure to pause the Netflix show first. He moved their unhealthy breakfast, giving him room to truly hold Luke.

He wrapped his arms underneath Luke's body, pulling him until the 5'6" boy lay on top of Michael's broad body. They were chest to chest and Luke needed more. He could feel Michael's arms wrapping around him and underneath his shirt, resting at the dimples on the bottom of his back.

His lips left kisses on the top of Luke's head.

They both needed an embrace and they both knew it.

"I'm sad, too, Luke."

"I'm sorry."

Michael held him closer, tears welling around his eyes again. "We didn't do anything wrong. It just happened." His voice was wavering and it made Luke start sobbing once more. "It's always going to be okay, Luke, yeah? It's me and you, and it's me and you forever."

"You told me that when we found out about It. Look where that took us." Luke's voice was small. So small.

Mike shushed him because he didn't know what else to do. He didn't want him thinking like that, he didn't want him talking like that. Michael felt guilty and he didn't know why. Everything felt like his fault.

Luke was a kid and Michael felt although he ruined that.

"This stuff happens to a lot of people. We're just part of the statistic now. That's okay. People get through it, and we will, too."