
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6172168.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      5_Seconds_of_Summer_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Michael_Clifford/Luke_Hemmings
  Character:
      Luke_Hemmings, Michael_Clifford
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Fluff
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-03-06 Words: 3000
****** Caught In The Undertow ******
by paperstorm
Summary
     Luke wants to touch everywhere, to learn everything, to have this
     last forever. Maybe he’s wanted it since the day they met. Maybe he
     just didn’t know it.
Michael has nice lips.
 
Like, really nice. Luke definitely shouldn’t notice things like that, but he
does. He notices everything, too much. He notices how green Michael’s eyes are
when the sun is shining. It doesn’t happen too often because it takes a minor
miracle to convince Michael to spend any amount of time outside, but when Luke
does get him outside, his eyes go the color of moss or grass or maybe lime
Jell-O. He notices how soft Michael’s hair is. Luke doesn’t, like, touch it. At
least not on purpose. But sometimes when he steals the hats off Michael’s head
just to bother him, he touches it by accident. And it’s really soft. Luke would
like to touch it not by accident some time. He notices Michael’s fingertips are
getting calloused, and his nail-beds are all ripped up. He’s been practicing.
Luke has too. They’re committed to this, even though everyone tells them it’s
stupid and they’ll never make it out of Sydney.
 
“You’re bleeding,” Luke points out, nodding his nose in the direction of
Michael’s left hand.
 
“Oh.” Michael sticks his thumb into his mouth and sucks at it.
 
“I had to stop, the other day. I played for like three hours and my fingers
fucking hurt.” Luke shudders a bit at the memory.
 
“It’ll all be worth it when we’re giant rockstars,” Michael says, the words
garbled around the thumb still in his mouth.
 
“Do you think we can really do it?” Luke isn’t always so sure. But then, he’s
never as sure of anything as Michael is. Michael’s just confidence and attitude
and swagger wrapped up in a body that’s soft and too tall and too loud. Luke
doesn’t mind, though. He also gets quiet Michael. Most people don’t.
 
Michael shrugs. It doesn’t mean I don’t know like it would if someone else had
done it; it means of courseand stupid question. He believes in them fiercely,
and it’s all so effortless. Everything about Michael seems effortless.
 
“Skip maths and come to my house,” Michael says.
 
Luke shouldn’t. He skipped on Tuesday, so they could record a cover. And he
skipped last week too. He’s gonna start getting bad grades – or, worse grades –
and then his mum will be mad and maybe she won’t let him do music with Michael
anymore, and then everything would be ruined.  All their big, impossible
dreams. He really needs to go to class today.
 
“Okay,” he says.
 
When Michael didn’t like him, Luke thought he was just another bully like the
ones who were mean to him at his old school. Now, Michael is everything. Luke
had a few friends, last year, sort of, but he never talks to them anymore. He
overheard one of them, just the other day, complaining that Luke just follows
that Clifford guy around all the time now. He should probably have been
offended, but he wasn’t. It’s true, he does. Michael is older and cooler and he
always knows exactly what he’s doing. He protects Luke, and Luke doesn’t need
protecting, he isn’t some sissy who can’t take care of himself and no one
really ever notices him enough to be mean to him these days anyway, but it
still feels nice. To know that if someone tried to mess with Luke, Michael
would punch him out without thinking twice.
 
“Are you hungry?” Michael asks. “I think mum bought mini pizza bagels.”
 
Luke nods, so Michael digs the red box out of the freezer and sets up a plate
for the microwave. The house is empty but they go to Michael’s room and close
the door behind them anyway. They always do. In case Michael’s mum comes home.
They won’t be doing anything she shouldn’t be seeing anyway, but it’s still
nice to feel private. Luke likes her, but she smiles this funny smile at him,
the way mothers do when they think they know something. Probably, Michael spent
all last year complaining about how much he hated Luke, and now Luke’s here all
the time and Karen is smug about being right that they could be friends if they
just got to know each other. Luke’s own mum certainly is.
 
“Charlotte asked me out,” Michael says, casually.
 
Luke’s tummy flips over itself. “Oh.”
 
“Yeah.”
 
“Are. Um. Where are you going?”
 
Michael rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say yes.” He snatches another mini bagel from
the plate and stuffs the whole thing into his mouth.
 
“Oh,” Luke repeats. He presses his lips together to keep from smiling.
 
“Sheth ah-oy-nang,” Michael mumbles with a mouth still full of bread and cheese
and tomato sauce.
 
“What?”
 
Michael swallows. “She’s annoying.”
 
“I guess.” Luke shifts around a little on the floor. “She’s pretty, though. And
she likes you.”
 
“I’m taking a nap,” Michael decides. “Then we should pick a new song to learn.
Something cooler than Justin Bieber this time. Like Nirvana or something.”
 
He pushes up off the floor and flops ungracefully down into his bed.
 
For a minute, Luke doesn’t move. He’s waiting to be invited, which is stupid
because they always end up in Michael’s bed. They don’t talk about it, it just
happens.  This time, it doesn’t feel right. Luke chews at his bottom lip, and
thinks about Michael’s. The thing is, Michael has nice lips, and Luke kind of
wants to kiss them. He figured that out a few weeks ago, and he doesn’t know
what to do with it yet. Michael is his friend, and Luke isn’t gay, because gay
isn’t normal and Luke is supposed to be normal, and there are all sorts of
problems with the whole situation.
 
“You’re not Kurt Cobain,” he says, responding way too late to Michael’s comment
on their last cover.
 
“What are you doing?” Michael asks. His toes poke into the side of Luke’s head,
tapping it to get his attention.
 
“Ew, dude, get your foot off me,” Luke complains.
 
“Turn the light off and come on.”
 
Luke’s bottom lip goes between his teeth again. He stands up, though, and
flicks the light switch, bathing the room in darkness. His tummy keeps flipping
but he crawls into bed beside Michael.
 
“I could be Kurt Cobain,” Michael says. He shifts around to make room for Luke,
bouncing him on the mattress, and then his arm slips over Luke’s waist. Luke’s
muscles clench and his skin bursts into goosebumps. His shirt’s ridden up, and
Michael’s wrist is touching his bare skin, just above his the waistband of his
jeans. It’s nothing, but it’s more electrifying than when Kate Warren gave him
a handjob after the dance last month. Luke sort of hated that, and then hated
himself because he should have liked it. He was panicked for a week, thinking
she could tell and would start spreading rumors.
 
“Don’t kill yourself, though,” Luke answers. His voice shakes. He really hopes
Michael doesn’t notice.
 
“All the coolest artists do,” Michael muses. He moves again, and he’s closer
now. His breath tickles Luke’s cheek.
 
“That’s not funny,” Luke whispers. He doesn’t know what he would do without
Michael.
 
Michael frowns. “Sorry.”
 
Luke shakes his head. “It’s okay.”
 
“Why are you being weird?”
 
“I don’t know.”
 
“Can I tell you something that’s, like, kinda stupid? You’re not allowed to
freak out, though.”
 
Luke turns his head, looking Michael in the eye. He looks anxious. Luke doesn’t
know what that means. “Yeah.”
 
“I had a dream about you last night.”
 
“Like a sex dream?” Luke jokes, because he’s uncomfortable, but then Michael’s
face does a weird thing. “Fuck, wait, really?”
 
“No.” Michael smiles a little, like he’s uncertain. “Not like – it wasn’t that.
But it was … nice. It was a nice dream.”
 
“Oh.” Luke swallows because he doesn’t know what else to say. His throat
clicks, and it’s so loud. He’s so uncool, he should be cooler. Like Michael.
 
Michael is so warm. He’s like a furnace, burning Luke up to a crisp. He moves
again, just another inch closer, and his ankle hooks over Luke’s. It’s like
holding hands, but with feet. The thought makes Luke giggle nervously.
 
“What?” Michael asks, laughing too.
 
“Nothing. Sorry.” Luke’s face is so hot. He’s sure it’s bright red, and the
embarrassment of it just makes it all worse. He probably looks like a
strawberry. So not sexy. Not that he wants to be sexy. It’s Michael in the bed
next to him, not a girl, so that would be stupid. Maybe.
 
“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Michael’s fingers curl over Luke’s hip and
squeeze. “You always tell me everything and right now you aren’t and I don’t
like it.”
 
Luke shakes his head. His heart thumps in his chest. Michael can probably hear
it. “Nothing’s wrong.”
 
Michael licks his lips. Luke watches, watches his pink tongue poke out and run
over his mouth, bright red as always because they’re always chapped. It leaves
them shiny. Luke stares for too long, and Michael’s frowning when he looks back
up.
 
“D’you wanna kiss me?” Michael asks, so soft, like worse than a secret, like
something that could destroy the world if it got out.
 
A noise escapes from Luke’s throat, and he can’t control it.
 
Michael exhales slowly, his forehead still wrinkled in a frown. “Okay, here’s
the thing,” he says, broad and grand like he’s about to announce something
important. Something life-changing. “Maybe I wanna kiss you too. And if you
want that, you gotta tell me, and then I will. But if you don’t then I won’t
obviously because that’s gross, so just say that and we never have to talk
about it again, and I won’t be weird about it, alright? It won’t ruin our
friendship or whatever, so just … just say no. If that’s what you want.”
 
Luke blinks. The words roll over him like water over plastic and he doesn’t
absorb any of it. “What?”
 
Michael huffs and looks frustrated. “Okay. Yeah, it’s – forget I brought it up.
It’s stupid.”
 
“No,” Luke insists. “No, I … I just didn’t … what?”
 
“Don’t hate me now,” Michael whines, pushing his face into the pillow.
 
“I don’t,” Luke says, and he means it. He could never, ever hate Michael. He
loves Michael. As a friend. Or maybe not as a friend.
 
“I’m such an idiot,” Michael mumbles, and he tries to move away, but Luke grabs
him to keep it from happening. They jostle, and Michael ends up even closer
than he was before, and one of his legs ends up pushed between Luke’s, and his
thigh is pressing into Luke’s crotch and Luke didn’t realize he was half-hard
until just now but he is and there’s no way Michael won’t notice.
 
“Fuck,” Luke swears under his breath.
 
Michael blinks, slowly, his eyes all wide and shiny. “Oh,” he says, softly.
 
“I’m sorry,” Luke mutters. He tries to move away this time, and now Michael’s
the one who won’t let him.
 
“Why?”
 
Luke just shakes his head. He can’t answer. Michael moves his leg, his thigh
rubbing against Luke, and Luke whimpers. He wants so much. He didn’t know
Michael did too. Michael wasn’t supposed to want him back. It wasn’t supposed
to be real.
 
“Tell me,” Michael whispers. His hand comes up; thumb brushing over Luke’s
bottom lip.
 
“Tell you what?”
 
“Tell me you want me to kiss you. Otherwise I won’t. I need you to say it
first.”
 
It feels impossible, but Luke hears his own voice, shaky and nowhere near as
confident as Michael but at least the words come. “Kiss me.”
 
Michael smiles, just a little, and he leans in. His lips press into Luke’s, and
for just a moment, it’s weird, because it’s Michael and he’s Luke’s best friend
and they shouldn’t be doing this. Then Michael’s hand moves down Luke’s back,
pulls him in closer, and Luke opens his mouth against Michael’s to deepen it
and it isn’t fireworks because it’s not a cheesy love song but it’s something
similar. Michael’s such a good kisser, and Luke probably isn’t but maybe it
doesn’t matter. Michael’s tongue brushes against his and Luke whimpers again.
Then Michael’s thigh pushes harder, friction on Luke’s dick trapped in his
pants, and Luke makes a different kind of noise.
 
“Didn’t think you’d ever …” Michael is mumbling, while his lips are wet and
soft against Luke’s. His hand goes up under Luke’s shirt, and his skin burns
against Luke’s back.
 
Luke can’t answer. He wants everything, and his head is spinning and it feels a
bit like he’s falling. It’s so embarrassing that he’s hard against Michael’s
leg, but Michael’s mouth tastes nice and it all feels so good.
 
“Can you say something?” Michael asks. He stops kissing, and his eyes are dark
when Luke looks into them.
 
Luke’s mouth opens but words don’t come out.
 
“Usually you won’t shut up,” Michael teases.
 
“Sorry,” Luke finally manages to utter.
 
“Don’t.” Michael frowns again. “How long have you …?”
 
“I don’t know. A few weeks, maybe.” It feels so dangerous to admit, even after
they’ve kissed and Michael’s leg is still against Luke’s crotch. “I’m sorry.”
 
“Why are you sorry?”
 
Luke shakes his head. He wishes they could go back to kissing, so they wouldn’t
have to talk about this. He’s barely ready to do it, so he’s certainly not
ready to talk about it.
 
“Hey.” Michael kisses his lips again, but it’s comforting this time. “Do you
wanna stop?”
 
“No,” Luke breathes. He’d rather die.
 
Michael takes his hand, guides it further under the covers and holds it against
his own body, between his legs. He’s hard, too. Luke can feel it, warm and
solid, under his palm. “See, me too,” Michael says. “It’s okay. I want you
too.”
 
Luke bites his lip again and curls his fingers, squeezing just a little,
testing out the feel.
 
Michael hums, and then he kisses Luke again. It goes from tentative to needy so
quickly, and he rolls on top of Luke, drowning him. His tongue is in Luke’s
mouth and his hips rock against Luke’s, and Luke can’t breathe properly. He
holds around Michael’s back, and he wants to touch everywhere, to learn
everything, to have this last forever. Maybe he’s wanted it since the day they
met. Maybe he just didn’t know it.
 
“Michael,” Luke breathes, just saying his name, just for something to anchor
himself to. Then he says it again, when his stomach starts clenching and
something is going to happen if Michael doesn’t stop and it’s going to be even
more embarrassing than popping a boner in bed with his best friend.
 
Michael doesn’t stop, and Luke moans when it hits him, shudders through it, hot
and prickly everywhere. Michael grunts softly and stops moving for just a
second, and then grunts again, and Luke is consumed by it. He wants those
noises tattooed on his brain, in case there isn’t a next time. He never wants
to forget them.
 
Luke lies there, motionless, and breathes. Michael rolls off him and he’s
staring but Luke doesn’t look back until Michael makes him; touching Luke’s
chin with his fingers and turning his head. Michael’s hair is messy and his
cheeks are flushed. His lips are even redder than before. Luke did that.
 
“That was okay, right?” Michael worries.
 
Luke turns onto his side, facing Michael. The mess in his pants is
uncomfortable, now, so he reaches down to unbutton them and struggles to kick
them off. Michael helps, his fingers brushing against Luke’s dick on accident
but then he touches on purpose, and Luke shivers. Michael is his best friend,
and he’s touching Luke’s dick and it should be totally weird and gross but
instead Luke just wants more.
 
“Yes,” he answers, minutes after Michael posed the question.
 
Michael tilts his chin forward and his lips brush Luke’s again, this time
gentle and slow.
 
“I like you,” Luke whispers to him. It’s still a secret, but Michael is allowed
to know, now. Even if it’s scary.
 
“Really?” Michael whispers back.
 
Luke nods.
 
Michael laughs a little. “I thought … I thought I was gonna fall madly in love
with you or something and you’d never like me back, and then one day years from
now I’d accidentally tell you and you’d never talk to me again.”
 
“I was scared you’d hate me, if you knew,” Luke admits.
 
Michael’s expression goes serious. “I wouldn’t.”
 
“What was the dream really about?” Luke asks.
 
Michael smiles slowly, and blushes. Luke is so unused to the idea that Michael
is capable of doubting himself. He sort of likes it, knowing that he can do
this. That Michael is all self-assurance and ego until Luke gets involved, and
then he’s as nervous and insecure as anyone else.
 
“Tell me.” Luke smiles too, and hugs his arm around Michael’s waist. This much,
they’ve been doing for months. Falling asleep together, wrapped up in each
other’s arms. It isn’t something friends are supposed to do, but Luke needed it
like air.
 
“You were blowing me,” Michael says, still flushed but he flashes a cocky grin.
 
Luke’s face heats up, just a twinge of discomfort at Michael’s brash but mostly
arousal and curiosity and the ache to know what it would be like, to do that.
What Michael would taste like, how he would feel in Luke’s mouth, the sounds he
would make. What it would feel like if Michael did it, too. Then he gets mushy,
and imagines what it would be like to hold Michael’s hand in public, at school
where everyone could see.
 
“D’you think you’d wanna do this again, sometime?” Michael asks shyly. “Do
other stuff, maybe?”
 
Luke nods. “Yeah. I want that.”
 
“Okay. Good. Me too.”
 
Luke kisses him. He’s properly addicted already, and it’s been less than an
hour. It doesn’t really bode well, for how hard he could fall, now that it’s
happened. Now that Michael wants it too, and it’s real. But Luke doesn’t want
to stop. Michael has nice lips.
 
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