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Summary
Luke doesn’t even pause to assess the situation, he just strolls right over all bundled up in a hoodie and sweatpants and his TNBS hat, plops himself right on the ground next to Michael and shuffles under the heap of blankets, tucking himself into Michael’s side.
“S’cold.” Luke mumbles, rubbing his lips on Michael’s neck.
“Wonder whose fault that is.” Michael grumbles, holding Luke closer despite his annoyance.
“I fell asleep, fuckhead. I didn’t mean to leave the window open.” Luke pouts, pushing his forehead into Michael’s shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Michael rolls his eyes, doesn’t really feel like arguing—it’s more of just his reflex to talk back, and arguments with Luke don’t ever really end well for anyone because he gets all moody and quiet and upset for days; Michael would know.
or: The bus is cold, 5sos is cold, cuddling ensues.
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