The morning Michael was meant to leave didn't feel like a beginning.
It felt like something was ending.
The house was unusually alive—pots clanging in the kitchen, the faint smell of fried eggs and pepper sauce drifting through the air, his mother humming a hymn that didn't quite match the heaviness in the room.
Michael stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his shirt for the third time.
Serious as always.
Focused.
But his eyes betrayed him.
He wasn't just thinking about the scholarship… or America.
He was thinking about Lucas.
"Michael!" Grace's voice rang from outside his door before she burst in without waiting.
She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, studying him like she was inspecting a suspect.
"Hmm. So this is the great scholar that is about to abandon us and go and start speaking American English."
Michael rolled his eyes slightly.
"I'm not abandoning anyone."
Grace smirked.
"Oh please. Two months from now you'll be saying 'y'all' and forgetting how to swallow African food properly.
Despite himself, Michael smiled faintly.
That was Grace—always finding a way to make things lighter.
She walked closer, her tone softening.
"I'm proud of you, you know."
Michael paused.
That meant more than he expected.
"Thanks."
She nudged him lightly.
"And don't worry… I'll handle mom when she starts her 'prayer marathon for your soul.'"
Michael let out a quiet breath.
"Grace…"
She raised her hand.
"I know. I know. I won't push."
A small silence settled between them.
Then, softly—
"You love him, don't you?"
Michael didn't answer immediately.
But he didn't need to.
Grace smiled gently.
"Yeah… I figured."
Downstairs His mother was already waiting.
Dressed neatly. Bible close by.
Everything about her spoke of devotion.
And expectation.
"Sit, Michael," she said warmly.
He obeyed.
Breakfast was quieter than usual.
Not uncomfortable… just heavy.
Finally, she spoke.
"You are going far from home now," she began, her voice calm but firm. "There will be many influences. Many temptations."
Michael knew where this was going.
She continued.
"Always remember who you are. And who you belong to."
He nodded slowly.
"I will, Mom."
She looked at him—really looked at him this time.
There was love there.
But also something else.
Fear.
Not of the world.
But of him.
Her voice softened.
"Pray always. Even when you feel strong… pray. Especially when you feel confused."
Michael swallowed slightly.
"I will."
She reached across the table and held his hand.
"I want you to come back better. Closer to God."
The words were gentle.
But they carried weight.
Michael forced a small smile.
"I'll try."
But inside…
He already knew.
He wasn't going back to who he used to be.
The car ride was filled with small conversations—Grace making jokes, his mother correcting her, Michael staring out the window more than speaking.
At the airport, everything moved too fast.
Luggage. Announcements. Movement.
Time slipping.
Grace hugged him first—tight and dramatic.
"If you come back with an American girlfriend, I will personally disown you."
Michael laughed.
"Relax."
She leaned closer and whispered—
"Take care of your heart, okay?"
He nodded.
Then his mother.
Her hug was longer.
Stronger.
Like she was holding onto something she didn't understand.
"God be with you," she whispered.
Michael closed his eyes briefly.
"Always."
The room was quiet when Michael entered.
But not empty.
Lucas was there.
Standing by the window.
And the moment he turned—
Everything else faded.
"Hey," Lucas said softly.
Michael dropped his bag.
And crossed the distance between them without thinking.
Their hug wasn't gentle.
It was desperate.
Like both of them were trying to memorize what the other felt like.
"You took forever," Lucas muttered.
Michael exhaled lightly.
"I'm here now."
Lucas pulled back slightly, looking at him.
Then smiled.
That familiar, playful smile.
"So… Mr. Serious Future America Man."
Michael shook his head.
"And you're still annoying."
Lucas gasped dramatically.
"Wow. I pour my heart out and this is what I get?"
Michael didn't respond.
He just leaned in.
And kissed him.
This time… there was no hesitation.
No fear.
No interruption.
Just them.
The kiss deepened slowly—naturally—like something they had been holding back for too long.
Lucas pulled him closer, his usual playful energy softening into something more vulnerable.
Lucas suddenly pushed Lucas on the bed with a faint smile.
On the bed Michael directly looked into Lucas' eyes with a smile.
Lucas laid on Micheal without needing to say anything else.
Not rushed.
Not clumsy.
Just… natural.
Like they had been building to this moment for a long time.
Every touch carried meaning.
Every pause said something words couldn't.
Michael had always been careful.
Measured.
Controlled.
But not tonight.
Tonight, he let himself feel everything.
The way Lucas smiled softly between breaths.
The way his hands held onto him like he mattered.
The way silence spoke louder than words ever could.
They both roughly take off their clothes while looking directly into each other's eyes.
Michael whispered into Lucas ears
"Don't take it easy on me"
Lucas immediately smiles, a smile which says a lot.
Suddenly Michael's leg was raised roughly.
Lucas looking directly into Micheal eyes inserted his long hard thick dark penis full of veins into Micheal Anus..
Immediately Michael felt the room becoming warmer, holding tight the bed sheets on the bed.
"Are you ok" Lucas said with a faint voice trying to fix it well.
"Jesus Christ fuckk Lucas" Michael said with a low voice
The room becomes more warmer.
Michael enjoying every moment of the intercourse.
"Fuckkkk" Lucas said loudly spilling his sperm on Lucas face, breathing heavily.
The room was still again.
But different now.
Warmer.
Closer.
Safer.
A small silence.
Then Lucas grinned suddenly.
"You know… for someone so serious, you're actually—"
"Don't finish that sentence."
Lucas laughed quietly.
"I was going to say 'not bad.'"
Michael shook his head, but a faint smile broke through.
"Go to sleep, Lucas."
"Make me."
Michael rolled his eyes slightly—but pulled him closer instead.
And for the first time in a long while…
Michael didn't feel torn between who he was supposed to be and who he actually was.
That night—
They didn't try to hold onto time.
They just existed in it.
Together.
Later, they lay side by side.
Silence—but peaceful this time.
Lucas broke it first.
"You know what I'm going to miss the most?"
Michael glanced at him.
"What?"
Lucas grinned.
"Annoying you."
Michael scoffed lightly.
"That's your life goal?"
"Absolutely."
They both laughed softly.
Then Lucas turned serious again.
"Don't change too much, okay?"
Michael looked at him.
"I might have to."
Lucas shook his head.
"Not the part that loves me."
Michael didn't hesitate.
"That part isn't going anywhere."
Morning didn't arrive gently.
It attacked.
Michael's eyes snapped open to the sound of Lucas' phone vibrating endlessly on the bedside table.
Lucas groaned, half-asleep, reaching blindly.
"…make it stop…"
Michael squinted at the screen.
Then he froze.
His heart dropped instantly.
"Lucas."
No response.
"Lucas!"
Lucas finally blinked awake.
"What—?"
"We're late."
That word didn't fully land—until Lucas checked the time himself.
Then—
"Oh my God."
Everything after that became chaos.
Clothes were thrown on in seconds.
Bags zipped halfway.
Shoes barely tied.
Lucas was hopping on one foot trying to fix his jeans while Michael grabbed their passports with shaking hands.
"You said the alarm was set!" Michael snapped.
"I did! My phone died!" Lucas shot back.
"That's not even possible—you charged it!"
"Well clearly something hates us!"
Michael would've argued more—but there was no time.
The taxi ride felt like torture.
Every red light was personal.
Every slow car felt like an enemy.
Michael kept checking the time like it might change if he stared hard enough.
Lucas, somehow, still managed to talk through the panic.
"We're going to make it," he said quickly.
"We're not," Michael replied flatly.
"We are."
"We're not."
Lucas leaned closer.
"Michael."
"What?"
"If we miss this flight, I'm blaming your serious face for bad luck."
Michael turned to him, stressed beyond belief—
And still—
A tiny, reluctant smile appeared.
"You're unbelievable."
"Yet you love me."
Michael shook his head, but didn't deny it.
The moment they arrived, it was already bad.
Too many people.
Too many announcements.
Too little time.
"Split up," Lucas said quickly. "Security line is faster on that side!"
Michael hesitated.
"Lucas—"
"Just go! We'll meet at the gate!"
And then—
They ran.
Michael pushed through the crowd, heart pounding violently.
His mind was racing faster than his body.
Passport. Ticket. Time. Gate. Lucas.
Everything blurred.
Lucas, on the other side, moved just as fast—but differently.
Still stressed.
Still rushing.
But throwing quick apologies to strangers he bumped into.
"Sorry! Emergency!"
Even in chaos—
Still Lucas.
"Final call for passengers…"
Michael froze mid-run.
His flight.
His chest tightened.
"No… no, no…"
He ran faster.
Lucas heard a different announcement.
"Last boarding call…"
His eyes widened.
"That's mine."
He didn't stop running.
Lucas reached his gate first—breathing heavily, barely able to speak.
"I'm here—I'm here—don't close it!"
The attendant looked at him briefly—then nodded.
"Boarding now."
Lucas turned quickly.
Scanning.
Looking.
Searching—
"Michael?"
Nothing.
No sign of him.
Passengers were already moving in.
Time was gone.
Lucas hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then whispered to himself—
"He'll make it."
And stepped forward.
At the far end of the airport—
Michael arrived.
Too late.
He stopped running.
Completely still.
In front of the large glass window.
Just in time to see it.
The plane.
His plane.
Already moving.
Already gone.
His breathing slowed.
But not in relief.
In disbelief.
"No…"
He stepped closer to the glass.
Eyes fixed.
Heart sinking deeper with every second.
"I made it…"
His voice broke slightly..
"I was right here…"
The plane lifted.
Gone.
Michael stood there.
Alone.
Surrounded by noise that suddenly felt distant.
His hand tightened around his phone.
Lucas.
He dialed immediately.
On the other side of the sky—
Lucas sat in his seat.
Still catching his breath.
Still looking at his phone.
Michael's name flashing on the screen.
He smiled softly.
Relieved.
And whispered—
"He made it."
Then looked out the window as the plane took off.
And didn't pick up.
Two flights.
Two different skies.
Two hearts still choosing each other—
But for the first time…
Completely out of sync.