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luke remembers the first times of hanging out with michael like a bit of a blurry mess of anxiety and excitement and maybe a tad of annoyance (mainly caused by the the fact that michael’s fringe was longer than his). he remembers saturday afternoons and calum bringing “a friend” when coming over to play fifa and eat leftovers, remembers being introduced formally even though it really wasn’t needed because they knew each other, they just didn’t know each other.
luke remembers fidgeting around and remembers calum going to the bathroom like, twentyseven fucking times and remembers stuttering out a “you wanna play guitar hero instead?” and michael instantly perking up like “hell yeah, i do”.
it feels funny now, looking back on those times. feels funny and he can’t quite place why michael used to scare him so much. being with him used to be so EXCITING, and like, yeah, it still is, but now it’s exciting in a way of “i love hanging out with this dude and I love him to death”. back then it was EXCITING in a way of “what will we do today? will he push me out of a window or will we push calum out of a window?”
he wonders when michael stopped being new and ?!!!??? and The Great Unknown to luke, and when he became safety and warmth and sweaty morning cuddles with bad (gross) morning breaths.
right now, laying in bed and thinking of this, luke can’t really place why they even hated each other in the first place. a voice in the back of his mind whispers that hey, maybe they didn’t hate each other, like, ever. maybe they were always best friends. and, hm.
michael shifts next to him, still asleep. his right arm is swung over luke’s torso and he’s got his face tucked in just beneath luke’s armpit. (jesus, luke thinks, it must smell like shit down there.) luke plays with his hair mindlessly. it’s light blue, freshly dyed, and it makes him look like a little bird. the hair being his feathers. (it’s so soft. shit.)
yeah, luke thinks, maybe they were always best friends. more, even, maybe. possibly.
he thinks back on those awkward first kisses (too much teeth too much tongue, too much of everything but passion. never too much passion.), the blowjob michael gave him that one time when they were having a sleepover and luke couldn’t get his boner to go down, sweaty hands grasping sweaty hands and it should’ve felt icky (and sticky, haha), but luke remembers liking it and, wow.
maybe they were always more, even, maybe. possibly. luke thinks so.