Work Text:
Saturday night, 3rd August, at exactly 11:07 p.m, Luke is wishing he could finish up his term paper as quickly as he can before going off to sleep. He's got a pen in hand, roughly scribbling down a draft to be typed on computer later and his blonde hair is mussed with evident stress. His eyes are already drooping with tiredness but he occasionally takes sips from the mug on his table to keep awake.
Not that he really needs help to keep awake. The stereo in the corner of the room is blasting with explicitly rude rap music despite the time of the night, and a restless Calum is dancing around the room without considering the fact that Luke is in dire need of 100% concentration on his paperwork. Luke resists the urge to tell him that he looks more like he's having a seizure than looking like he's actually dancing.
"Could you just," Luke spins around to face Calum, frown affixed to his face and looking the weariest he'd been for days, "turn that down please?" He casts a look at the stereo as if it's a creation equivalent to utter monstrosity. He's getting a headache just by hearing the rapid, staccato words by Eminem being drilled into his head.
"Ohh," Calum replies, not even having the least bit of decency to look embarrassed. He goes over and lowers down the volume a tiny bit. "Sorry."
"Don't you have anything to do?" Luke asks, out of annoyance rather than curiosity. "Paperwork? Assignments?"
"Not now, I don't," Calum shrugs, his bare foot still tapping on the floor to the steady rhythm of the bass.
"Hm," Luke is apprehensive, but decides that he doesn't care enough to press on further. He swivels back to the desk and picks up the pen, rereading what he's written so far.
Calum, apparently, is done preoccupying himself with jamming to the music. He plops down on the only other chair in the room and drags himself over to sit next to Luke. His hand reaches for the stack of pens on the table, humming a tune under his breath.The blonde is reminded of a restless puppy, finding and poking his unwelcome nose at places Luke most definitely doesn't want him to intrude. He's had enough trouble losing books and stationery in the past and he doesn't need Calum's help to make things worse.
"Dunno how you can manage to study all this," Calum is now flipping through one of Luke's reading books for his Literature class, Ulysses. "I get bored just by reading one of the lines." Luke ignores him, even though there's a prickle of irritation starting to float to the surface of his composed facade. He takes another gulp of coffee and writes another crap sentence before scratching it out. He tries to think of words to put on the paper so he can get this done with, but his attention is spared on the boy next to him. Peeking from the corner of his eye on what Calum is doing, he thinks it's almost amazing how fast Calum can go from fiddling with a bunch of pens to being busy toying with a Rubik's cube.
Concentrate, you asshat, Luke scolds himself, and stares down at the half-written page in front of him.
"Hey, d'you wanna go hang out somewhere?" Calum is asking out of the blue, putting the cube down. "I'm feeling the need for some Mexican."
"Cal. I have work to do. You go ahead."
"You need a break, mate, c'mon!" There's a too-hard clap on Luke's shoulder and he restrains himself from giving a punch in return.
"Nah."
"Luuuuuukeeee," Calum drags out the single syllable in a whine. "I'm hungryyy."
Luke fixes him with a stoic look. Calum responds with a pouty face. Shit.
"That look doesn't work on me, you know. You can bully other people into do things for you with it, but I'm not having any of that." Luke is contradicting himself, obviously having his resolution being shaken by that single pouty look.
"I don't want to go alone, I'll look like a loser," Calum says, keeping on the pout as if he knows the effect it has on him.
Luke wouldn't be entirely surprised if he does, that spawn of Satan.
"Go knock on Mikey's door, then. He'll go with you."
"Nope. He's probably sleeping or something, you know how it is with him. He's literally a vampire."
Luke doesn't have the energy to correct his false use of literality. "It isn't daytime, Calum. He'll be fine."
"You're no fun," Calum rolls his eyes and gets up. Luke feels a temporary sort of relief.
Calum picks up a pair of jeans crumpled on his bed and pulls them over his boxer shorts, motions all exaggerated with the pretense of being angry. He exits the room and Luke returns to his paper, only to be interrupted a little while later with a text on his phone from Calum.
Getting the deluxe combo all by myself. yummmmm :D
There is a picture attached of Luke's usual set of meal at the Mexican diner, looking absolutely tempting enough to make his stomach growl. His eyes move from the condescending smiley in the text message to the paperwork, and back again. He sighs.
Fuck it, he thinks as he types a reply.
I'll be there soon, don't finish it up or else!!!