Short Order Cook

[microwavelength]

He hates it.  From the noise to the brightness to the level of prettiness, this school is absolutely the worst he's ever been at.  And he's been at some pretty fucking bad ones.  Mom moves him around a lot.  He gets into trouble and sometimes it's just easier to get a job at another hospital and take her son away before he gets a wrap sheet for the

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[microwavelength]

"Linda?" Luke frowned a little, not quite getting the alliteration with his own name, and slide the rhinestoned iPod with it's big gold star on the back in his top pocket. When Kurt started to walk, Luke went right on with him, ignoring the part about going to wait at his car evidently.

And about giving back Rachel's iPod. When he got tired of the songs, he would leave it in the lost and found. No biggie. He already returned the last guy's. Well. Sorta returned it. Kinda.

"Yesterday was fine. You should come over more. My mom thinks you're the reason I'm a menace to society." He grinned at that, shaking his head, and frowned when Kurt's best friend appeared in the hallway ahead of them.

Shit, scary black girl. Who looked about ready to pummel him. Weird.

"What do you think you're doin'?!"

Luke frowned. "Walking. One foot in front of the other? Shit like that? Try it more and you might actually fit into those pants."

And thus, Luke received a matching black eye to go with the one from a few days before.

[microwavelength]

Luke was actually laughing, something that ought to have been at least vaguely troubling. His eye wouldn't swell closed, or anything dramatic like that, but he did have a lovely cut just below his eyebrow from one of those entirely too wicked rings that the girl had been wearing.

"This school is fucking nuts!" Luke declared, dabbing likely unclean fingers at the blood trickling down into his eye. Head wounds always bled quite a lot, but he was in no danger of needing stitches or anything like that.

He pulled himself to his feet and grabbed his bag from the floor.

"Dude, don't fucking bother with the makeup. I don't give a shit what my mom thinks. She'll think I was bashed or something."

[microwavelength]

"I need to show you something. So let's go somewhere private." It sounded like a proposition. The look in his dark brown eyes probably didn't help matters much. Luke didn't care. He needed to get this out and he needed someone to understand or else he might explode. He'd never met someone like him before. Maybe Kurt could give him something he never actually knew he needed until about an hour ago.

He got to his feet a bit unsteadily. That couldn't be helped. He was slightly concussed and Kurt's...whatever it was...hadn't helped really. His ears had stopped ringing at least.

He pulled himself together and frowned a little, scratching at the back of his neck. He would get to show off. He was fucking psyched!

[microwavelength]

Kurt's house was actually pretty nice, but Luke wasn't really the sort to notice that sort if stuff. He was much more interested in the little things like how Kurt held the steering wheel and how he gently eased the car into the drive. He also noticed the rust on the garage door in one spot and how the place smelled a bit like lavender and machine oil. An odd combination.

Luke dropped his bag by the front door and picked up a plastic potato chip bag clip from the living room table before following Kurt into the kitchen.

"First, holy shit dude. That was amazing!"

He'd been holding that in on the entire car ride back here!

"Second... Holy shit dude!". He was laughing, happy. Really really happy. "But it's my turn now. So stand back, all right. This could bubble and splatter." He sat the clip lightly on the table, held out his hand, and a moment later, it melted.

[microwavelength]

"Literally melt faces?" he asked, finishing Kurt's sentence. "Eh, about three years. Sort of hit puberty and I got really, really fucking mad one day and it just went off. Everything plastic in the bathroom melted and the water in the toilet boiled and the wallpaper peeled off. Oooh God did I get in trouble for that one."

He couldn't help it. And his mother never realized that Luke hadn't been in control. He'd only had a break down twice since.

Despite what you see here, Kurt, he's actually fairly stable these days. Luke sat on the chair in front of Kurt's vanity and sighed.

"Dude, you're such a fucking girl. Just get some fake tits already."

[microwavelength]

Well, Luke couldn't take credit for it. It's not his intention, at all, to make Kurt feel better. Still, at least he didn't look like he was going to cry, so that was good. Crying was something Luke really hated. It was so damned weak.

So pointless. Tears did nothing but give you a headache!

"If your moisturizers attacked me, that'd be a whole different set of powers. Telekinesis or some shit. Man, that would be so fucking useful."

[microwavelength]

"Hey, he said I could come back. Any time at all that I can get away with not having to be home, I'm going to take it dude." Luke leaned back in the heated leather seats and kept his eyes closed until the car slowed down for something other than a turn or a stop sign.

Damn it. He cracked open one dark eye and groaned. Porch light on too. Ooh, and his mom in the window? Even better. As Kurt pulled into the drive way, Luke kicked open the door -- gently, and made a motion to grab his backpack.

He grabbed the lapels of Kurt's shirt instead, muttering a very small "Sorry dude," before he leaned in to kiss him. It was brief, and all for his mom's sake. Luke's lips parted slightly before he pulled out and grabbed his stuff.

The curtains were swishing.

Luke's stride to the front door was one of triumph!

[microwavelength]

"I literally have seen you in three different outfits today," Luke said, nonchalantly, chewing on a carrot stick as he sat down next to Kurt at lunch on the side by the wall. Tina and Mercedes were taking up the other two ends, protecting Kurt like mother lionesses.

The image in his head made him snort.

He still had his bruise from being sucker punched but didn't seem to notice it, or the looks he was getting from the three at the table. He didn't care if he was invited or not.

"It's like you're trying to rival Britney Spears in costume changes," he remarked, offering Kurt a carrot, absently.

[microwavelength]

Right-oh, princess. I'll keep you looking good," Luke said, smile in place as he twirled the flashlight around in his hands before clicking it on. He followed Kurt easily into the garage and after nearly tripping over a lumpy piece of metal, he made some smart ass remark and promptly fell face first across a leather seat. His hands scraped on the garage floor and he cursed angrily.

The string of adjectives was rather colorful, funny considering how Luke took a beating without much complaint.

"You might want to watch it," an unfamiliar voice said, standing over Luke. "It's dangerous in here."

[microwavelength]

Rolling over, Luke lifted his hand towards a man whose glasses glinted in the beam of his flashlight. Nothing happened. "Sorry," the man said, smiling down at the boy. "My friend over there is doing that. You can't hurt me, Luke, even if you want to. And you're going to hurt your voice if you're not careful, Kurt."

Fine. No powers. Luke could compensate. He lifted his foot to aim a kick for the weird molester's crotch only to find it caught up in two hands and his entire body turned over with the force used on his leg. Arm caught under him at an odd angle, Luke cried out.

"H-Hey! Dude, get the fuck off me!"