this is like all dialogue oops

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it's the middle of the night when michael's phone starting ringing nonstop, notifications exploding through the small speaker whenever there's not a call. michael opens his eyes and unwraps himself from around luke, leaning over and picking up his phone. his eyes widen and he sits up, trying to decline all the calls that are coming through.

"michael?" luke groans sleepily, yawning and sitting up to look at his phone.

"luke, i don't know what's happening, i keep getting so many calls from random numbers that i can't even open my phone." he mutters, and if it wasn't 2:46 am it would've sounded a lot more frantic.

"luke what's happening, please i don't-what if-oh my god-what if-"

"take a deep breath, mike." luke carefully takes michael's phone out of his hands and sets it face down on the comforter. he rubs michael's back gently, "it might just be a bug, give me a second to check mine, alright?"

michael nods, watching nervously as luke unlocks his phone. he has only a few texts, so he opens twitter.

luke sees it, michael misses it as he scrolls past, it's his phone number. all over twitter.

"oh, baby c'mere..." luke pulls michael into his lap and gently pushes michael's face into his neck so he can't look at luke's phone.

"what is it? luke, please, i'm scared now, you're scaring me, what happened?"

luke shakes his head, "i'll tell you in a couple minutes, sweetheart, let me just..."

luke quickly composes a new tweet, stop calling michael, yes it is his number, but please respect his privacy

he reaches for michael's phone and flips it over, declining the call on the screen and one more before unlocking it. he has thousands of texts and twitter notifications, which is odd because michael always has twitter notifications off.

"oh my fucking-" luke stops himself, for whatever reason this wasn't showing up on his twitter. someone leaked michael's nudes.

"luke?" michael asks softly, sniffling a little, "what is it?"

"i'm so sorry, baby," luke murmurs, letting michael look at the screen.

as soon as michael sees it his breath catches in his throat and he wants to throw up.

"no no no, no luke this isn't happening, luke please, i-"

"it's alright, it's okay, love. we're gonna fix this, yeah?" luke kisses his forehead. "just relax, bubba, you're getting too worked up about this."

"no, i can't. those are never going to go away. luke, when we have kids they're going to grow up and figure out the internet and you know what they're gonna find? my fucking nudes." he chokes out the last few words almost like they're painful.

"michael, look at me. this isn't going to last forever. it's going to die out in a matter of weeks. remember the incident with cal's a few years back? nobody talks about it anymore." luke tries to console him.

"years, luke. my fucking parents are gonna see them. your parents are gonna see them, jesus, that's even worse, luke, fuck." michael pulls away from luke's comforting hold and puts his face in his hands.

"you have to trust me on this, it's going to be okay. it might take some time, but everything's gonna be alright." luke hugs him again, because he knows that despite michael's protests, he wants one.

"it's my fault anyway," luke whispers into michael's hair, and he gives a small shake of his head.

"luke, how is it your fault? i took the picture." michael closes his eyes and rests his head against luke's chest, "and the phone number couldn't possibly be you. why would you want to leak my phone number?"

"i meant because i was the one who asked, b-fuck, michael i know how this happened. your snapchat, right? someone probably hacked it then changed your number to theirs and found the picture in your memories." luke slips his hand up michael's shirt and rubs his back.

michael sighs and luke carefully peels him off to look him in the eye, "why don't you close your eyes, babe? you need sleep, and when you wake up the pictures will be off of twitter along with your number. promise."

"don't make promises you can't keep, luke." michael whispers, and luke kisses him softly.

"i don't."