trente huit

Michael and Luke came back from the diner down the street holding grilled food and soda. "We're back!" The older once called as he locked the front door behind him.

"It only took you seven years," his father teased, grabbing the bags from both boys.

"Luke wanted to look at a turtle," Mike commented. He went to the kitchen, grabbing proper plates and silverware.

"Listen," Luke defended, sitting at the dining room table with Ms. Clifford, "When we get back to Pennsylvania, I'm not going to go outside. Like, ever again. Outside world and me don't get along very well, got it?"

Michael rolled his eyes and set the table. "It was a turtle."

"How many times have you seen a turtle?"

"Lots of times," he responded, "It's a turtle."

The four sat down, ready to have their last dinner at the beach house. Ms. Clifford opened up the carry out boxes, passing around the correct meals to the correct hungry humans.

"So, Luke, are you ready to run far away from our family?" Michael's mother asked, cutting up her grilled chicken.

Luke shook his head, "I'm ready to move in with you all, though."

Michael reached out his foot, his bare feet running up and down his boyfriend's leg. The blonde looked up, his blue eyes meeting Mike's green eyes. Michael smiled, a tint of red rising to his cheek.

"You look sunburnt, your mother might kill me," Ms. Clifford continued. She looked at Luke's dry skin, tsking at the boy's lack of sunblock.

Michael and his mother looked almost identical when they both looked down at the table. They had the same point of the nose, the same deep cheeks, the same dark eyebrows perfectly shaped. Luke thought they were twins.

"Nah, she'll never notice." He had a mouth full of grilled cheese, almost spitting as he tried to talk.

"Hey, chew your food then talk," she scolded.

Luke hid his laugh as he did as followed.

"You do realize Luke isn't actually our son, right?" Mr. Clifford asked, his eyebrows raised at his wife.

She looked up startled. "I forgot for a solid minute he wasn't. Luke, I'm so sorry."

The table laughed, knowing they'd mercilessly make fun of the women for a solid month for forgetting she didn't have more than one child.

The Cliffords—and Luke—stayed in casual conversations. They admired the sun setting from the large bay windows. They talked over their meals. They talked about their week at the beach house.

Luke hoped he'd be invited back the following break. He can't remember a time where he's felt so alive. It was more than just breathing, it was actually living. He could feel the air going through his lungs. He could feel blood pumping through his veins. He felt like a human, something he hasn't in a while.

"So, college is next?" Mom #2 asked Luke.

He shrugged, pushing his empty plate away from him. "Who knows? I think so, but I still have a bit to figure it out." He stretched out, resting his feet on the side of Michael's chair.

"Are you excited to see me every day, Dad?" Michael asked his father. He copied Luke's position, stretching out his bare feet to rest on the wooden chair.

He looked up at his son, looking scared. "No," he said shortly, "Not really."

"Be nice! He's doing us a favor!"

"Oh, making me pay him more and dropping out of high school is a favor? Okay, Honey." He meant it out of love, and Michael knew it. It was a dad-joke and Mike was very used to those.

"My second son is going to come visit us every day, though, right?" Mike's mother asked, turning to look at Luke. She batted her eyelashes, as if not coming by the pizza shop was an answer.

"Of course. Feed me. Love me."

Luke was pretty much their son-in-law. 

(A/N) I HAVE A NEW STORY UP CALLED "START A FIGHT" THAT'S PRISONER!MICHAEL AND OFFICER!LUKE SO WINK WINK HINT HINT