
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2498360.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      5_Seconds_of_Summer_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Michael_Clifford/Luke_Hemmings
  Character:
      Ashton_Irwin, Calum_Hood, Liz_Hemmings, Michael_Clifford, Luke_Hemmings
  Additional Tags:
      Schmoop, Angst_with_a_Happy_Ending, First_Time, OT4_Bromance, Angst, POV
      Alternating
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-10-23 Completed: 2014-10-26 Chapters: 4/4 Words: 20482
****** Don't Blink ******
by paperstorm
Summary
     Suddenly Luke’s skin is itchy underneath and his clothes don’t feel
     right. He’s sweaty and uncomfortable with how good it feels having
     Michael pressed up against him. It isn’t supposed to feel like this.
     Luke doesn’t know why he never realized that until just now. This
     thing they do, where they’re always in each other’s space, always
     touching, always wrapped around each other – it’s how Luke should be
     with a girl. Not his best friend.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
“Get drunk with me,” Michael says, tossing a beer at Luke and smiling when Luke
fumbles it and nearly drops it on the ground. He flops down next to Luke on the
couch, close enough for their arms to touch, and twists the cap off the bottle
in his hands.

“Why?” Luke asks.

“Why not?” Michael tips the bottle to his lips and takes a swig. He doesn’t
even really like beer, it kind of tastes like bread that’s gone bad, but it’s
all they have.

“Where’s Calum and Ashton?”

“I don’t know. Out.”

“Where did they go?”

“I said I don’t know.”

“Why would they leave without telling us?”

Michael pokes him in the ribs. “What, you don’t wanna hang out with just me?”

Luke smiles a little and shakes his head. “You’re alright, I guess.”

Michael laughs. “Wow. Asshole. I thought we were bestest friends forever.”

Luke laughs too. He twists the cap off his own bottle and drinks from it. “We
are.”

“Good. Drink.”

“I am drinking. Why do you wanna be drunk so bad?”

Michael shrugs. “I don’t, really. Just wanna hang out with you.”

“We hang out all the time. It’s kinda all we ever do,” Luke points out. “I
can’t remember the last time I was away from you for more than like five
minutes.”

Michael drains the rest of his beer in two long swallows and gets up for
another one. He manages to balance four in his hands, so he won’t have to get
up again so soon. “I know, but like, just us, I mean. Things have been so crazy
lately, I feel like it’s been forever since we did anything just the two of
us.”

“Aw.” Luke grins at him and takes the bottle Michael offers even though his
first is still half-full in his other hand. “I miss you too, Mikey.”

Michael laughs at himself. “Shut up. I do, though. I love everything we’re
doing now, but don’t you just … sometimes I miss making those dumb videos with
you at my house. When it was just us.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean. Those were good times.”

“It’s so strange to think about ourselves back then, isn’t it? Like, a couple
of dumb kids, how crazy we were for thinking we even had a shot at makin’ it. I
don’t feel like I even know that guy anymore.”

“You’re still him.” Luke finishes his first beer and starts on the second one.
He drinks from it and then slouches down on the couch to rest his head on the
back of it. His leg is against Michael’s, and it’s making Michael feel
overheated. Although that could be the alcohol. “You’re still loud and
uncoordinated and addicted to video games. Now you’re just a rock-star too.”

“Thanks,” Michael says sarcastically, smiling when Luke chuckles. “You still
have absolutely no cool. How you’re our front man, I have no idea.”

“You think it should’ve been you?”

“I think it should’ve been Calum. He’s the only one of us that has any game.”

“I think he’d take that as an insult.”

Michael hums in agreement. “You have the best voice, though.”

“It’s not better than yours.”

“Yeah, it is,” Michael argues. “Way better.”

“I don’t think so, but thanks.”

Michael opens a third bottle. His skin is starting to vibrate and the room
blurs just a little. “He looks hot with that bass on him, doesn’t he?”

“Calum?”

“Yeah.”

Luke giggles about it a little, but agrees. “Yeah, he does. Way cooler than I
look.”

“I think it’s the blond,” Michael teases, reaching up and flicking at Luke’s
sky-scraper of hair. “And the blue eyes. You’re like a little fluffy bunny,
dressed up for Halloween as a punk rocker.”

Luke makes an offended noise and smacks Michael’s leg. “What the hell does that
make you, then? Remember that time we lost you in a hydrangea bush?”

“Having colored hair makes me awesome.”

“Not when it’s lavender.”

“Well it isn’t anymore.”

“Yeah, now it’s blond, like mine,” Luke points out.

“But it’s bleached. That makes it hardcore.”

Luke shakes his head and laughs again. “Your rules make no sense. Do we have
anything other than beer? The amount we’ll have to drink to be drunk, I’m gonna
need to pee like seventeen times.”

“I don’t think so, but I didn’t look that hard.” Michael gets up and heads for
the kitchen, and Luke follows him. They rummage through cupboards and Michael
finds a half-empty bottle of whiskey left over from the last time they had
people over, shoved to the back and forgotten.

Michael holds it up and raises his eyebrows in question, and Luke shrugs and
kind of half nods, but warns, “If I’m puking tomorrow, you’re cleaning it up.”

“It’s so cute you think I would ever do that,” Michael tells him, as he finds
two clean glasses and fills them.

“Are we just gonna drink it? Like we’re in a biker bar?”

“Unless you wanna mix it with milk or orange juice. That’s all we’ve got.”

Luke grimaces, but seems to decide straight whiskey is preferable to mixing it
with either of those things. He lifts the glass to his lips and sips, coughing
a little as it goes down rough. Michael doesn’t like the taste of whiskey any
better than beer, but he likes the way it warms him from the inside out as it
slips down his throat.

Two glasses later and Luke’s flushed and disheveled and rambling, and it’s more
adorable than it has any right to be. Michael is buzzing inside, loose and
happy, and Luke is burning fever-hot pressed up against him on the couch. He
can sort of smell Luke’s skin, sweat and something else that’s just him. When
Luke shifts, his whole side rubs against Michael’s, and it makes his stomach
feel weird.

“Everyone’s hot, though,” Luke says suddenly, as if continuing a conversation
they were just having, even though they weren’t. Maybe Luke was having it in
his own head. He does that sober, sometimes.

“Who is?”

“You guys. Like what we were saying before, about Calum with his bass.”

Michael giggles. “That was like an hour ago.”

“But I’ve been thinking about it. And like, you all are. You with your guitar
and Ash behind the drums. You’re all hot.”

“You’re weird tonight.” And he’s so, so close. Michael’s palms are sweating.

“Don’t you think so?”

“I guess. You’re all good-looking dudes, so.”

“But you are too,” Luke insists, his eyes all wide and sincere, like this is
important. Michael sort of wants to kiss him. Then he sort of wants to run
away. “You’re hot, Michael. Your hair and your face and everything. And you’re
like … the most rock. You know? You make us punk.”

Michael swallows. Luke’s face is close enough to his that if he leaned in just
a little bit, he could do it. He could kiss him. His lips are right there, it
would be easy. “Doesn’t the music do that?”

“Yeah, but like, it’s you, too. Like people see us and they think we’re like a
boy band but then you’ve got your tongue out all the time so we can’t be.”

He isn’t making sense, and Michael’s barely listening anyway. His stomach is
churning, and things are happening in his pants that definitely, absolutely
should not be happening while he’s with Luke. “My tongue makes us punk,” he
repeats, trying to work out what it is Luke’s attempting to say. He’s not sure
Luke even knows himself.

“I need to go to bed,” Luke slurs, out of nowhere.

Michael’s confused, the booze making him sluggish. “What?”

“M’drunk. And I’m weird, and you’re right. I’m weird.”

He stands up onto shaky legs, tries to step over Michael’s feet but trips on
them instead, and tumbles. Michael sort of half catches him, and he ends up in
Michael’s lap, his thighs bracing Michael’s hips. His hands find the back of
the couch before he completely crashes into Michael, but then he’s there, right
there, in Michael’s space, and he’s staring down at Michael with his eyes all
dark and shiny and Michael’s heart is beating so fast he’s worried it’s going
to break right out of his ribcage. Luke blinks at him, his lips parted and his
breathing heavy, and then something just snaps between them and they’re
kissing, Luke’s hands on Michael’s face, Michael’s shoved up the back of his
shirt, splayed over his sweat-damp skin. He goes from zero to wanting Luke so
badly it hurts, maybe faster than anyone’s ever gone from anything to anything.

He pushes Luke off him and stands, and they stumble to the bedroom without
detaching their lips, and Luke is a good kisser even though it’s messy because
they’re drunk and horny and damn it, why is this the first time Michael’s ever
kissed him before when they could have been doing this for years. He tears at
his clothes, and Luke’s too, no plan or coordination other than the intense
need to be naked now and have Luke be naked to so he can see him and touch him
and make him feel things. Skinny jeans are so fucking hard to get off in a
hurry and Michael is never wearing anything but baggy sweats ever again. Or
maybe those tear-away pants, the ones with the snaps down the sides. Those
would be good. He could have those off in three seconds.

They tumble onto the bed together, finally, finally free of clothes, and
Michael drapes himself over Luke and kisses him until they can’t breathe while
he rocks his hips down into Luke’s body, his hard cock sliding against Luke’s,
and Michael’s done things before with dicks that weren’t his but it’s never
felt like this. He feels crazy, like he wants to eat Luke alive and at the same
time package him up in bubble wrap and blankets so no one can ever hurt him.
Luke moans beneath him, a pretty, broken sound that might have been an attempt
at Michael’s name, at grips at Michael’s back, rutting up against him as hard
as Michael’s rutting down. It’s sloppy and desperate and perfect, and Michael
never wants to do this with anyone else ever again for the rest of his life.

Luke is so beautiful when he comes it should be on postcards, eyes fluttering
closed and swollen lips parted on a moan that never makes it’s way out of his
mouth. He slicks the space between them with hot and wet and slippery and
Michael swears and buries his face in Luke’s shoulder, rocking against him
until his gut clenches and he loses it too, adding to the mess between their
stomachs.

Luke is whispering his name, quick, needy little rasps of, “Michael. Michael,”
and pawing at him. Michael’s brain is starting to turn its lights out, a
mixture of alcohol and post-orgasm haze and the fact that it’s the middle of
the night conspiring to knock him out and take him away from the moment, from
Luke, who needs something from him but Michael’s too out-of-it to know what
that is. He slides his arms around Luke and holds him, cuddles him like a teddy
bear, and Luke calms; melts into Michael’s arms and falls asleep a few seconds
before Michael does.

*           *           *

Luke wakes up slowly, fog in his head and his whole body thrumming in dull pain
like he was hit by a car a week ago and hasn’t quite recovered. He’s confused
for a moment before it all comes rushing back to him – beer, cheap whiskey,
Michael, kissing, touching, all of it. It’s a slight blur but Luke remembers
enough. His stomach turns, and it’s maybe only half because of the hangover.
                     
He can hear someone moving around in the bathroom, and he’s not sure whether or
not he wants it to be Michael. No, on second thought, he definitely hopes it
isn’t. He doesn’t want to see Michael right now. It would make what happened
real. Maybe if Luke just lies here for the rest of his life, what happened
won’t ever really catch up with him. Maybe if he believes hard enough, it will
erase the entire night and Luke can somehow magically go back to the person he
was before he knew what Michael’s lips tasted like, what his eyes look like
dark and hooded, what he sounds like when he comes.

Luke is going to be sick. This is his fault. He did this, he pushed himself at
Michael because he was drunk and needy and so damn stupid, and Michael didn’t
push back because he’s Michael, and he’s sweet and loyal and always wants to
make everyone happy. Luke took advantage of him, of the fact that Michael
wouldn’t know how to say no. He’s never going to forgive himself for this.
Never.

The person quietly enters the bedroom and Luke freezes and closes his eyes,
tries to steady the slow rise-and-fall of his chest so whoever it is believes
he’s asleep. And it is Michael. Luke knows for sure now. He recognizes the
sound of him breathing. For a minute, Michael just stands there. Luke can’t see
him so he doesn’t know for sure, but he thinks Michael is watching him – maybe
trying to gauge whether Luke’s feigning sleep or not. Luke panics, needing so
badly for Michael to believe he’s still unconscious because if he figures it
out, Luke will have to explain why he’s pretending to be asleep and he doesn’t
have anything close to a good reason.

After a few pain-staking minutes, Michael moves again. He shuffles around the
room for a short while and then he leaves, and Luke holds his breath and
listens as hard as he can, catching the faint sounds of Michael opening and
closing the front door, the scrape of the lock the final proof that he’s gone.
Luke exhales and turns his face into the pillow and crumbles – tears prickling
behind his eyes that he refuses to let fall because he has no right to be upset
about this when it’s his own damn fault. Michael’s the one who should be upset,
and now he’s gone because Luke was too cowardly to face him and he wishes the
floor would open up and swallow him whole.

Luke lies in bed for most of the day. He didn’t drink nearly enough to feel as
hungover as he does, which means it isn’t just the ghost of alcohol making his
body incapable of doing anything but lying still and trying not to die. He
doesn’t know where the other guys are. He’s not sure Calum or Ashton even came
home last night – the house has been quiet since Michael left. Michael’s been
gone for hours and Luke is glad for it and scared by it at the same time. He
doesn’t want to have to deal with what happened, but he doesn’t know where
Michael would even go for this long. Luke imagines him sitting alone in the
back of a McDonald’s, hood up so he won’t be spotted, just loitering so he
doesn’t have to come back and face up to Luke and what they did. Luke really,
really needs Michael to be okay with what happened. He needs Michael to shrug
it off and say they were drunk and reckless and it didn’t mean anything.
Because if Michael’s freaking out, then it did mean something, and Luke’s not
prepared for that.

Someone finally comes home late in the afternoon, and a loud giggle as the door
opens means it’s Ashton. After a moment, Luke hears Calum’s voice too. He
hadn’t thought of it until just now, but he has no idea how he’s going to
explain this to them – that he doesn’t know where Michael is, that things are
going to be weird between them whenever Michael comes back. Luke can’t tell
them what really happened, not without making it way too real, but he doesn’t
know what to tell them instead. He runs through a few quick lies in his still-
throbbing head but none of them sound remotely believable.

The bedroom door bursts open, and Ashton’s loud voice asks, “Dude, why are you
still in bed?”

The sudden noise feels like someone just smacked Luke over the head with a
frying pan like in a cartoon, and he groans and drags a pillow over his ear.
He’s also painfully aware of the fact that he’s naked and covered in dried
come, and if Ashton decides to just tear the sheet away for no reason, which
has happened before, then he’ll know and Luke will be screwed.

“Are you sick or something?” Ashton asks; softer now, concerned.

“Hungover,” Luke mumbles, figuring honesty is really his only option.

Ashton laughs a little, but it sounds sympathetic. “Fuck. Sorry, man. What did
you and Michael get up to last night?”

It’s such an innocent, innocuous question, but it makes Luke’s stomach clench
into a tangle of uncomfortable butterflies. “Drinking.”

“Said Captain Obvious.”

“Is that Luke?” Calum’s voice asks. “Is he dead?”

“Yes,” Luke answers.

“Epic hangover,” Ashton tells him. “Watch out for tigers.”

“Where’s Michael?” Calum asks, chuckling. “Should we check the roof?”

“I don’t know. Can you stop talking now please?” Luke pulls the pillow tighter
over his head but it doesn’t muffle their voices enough to stop his head from
pounding.

“Wait, really? You actually don’t know?”

“He wasn’t here when I woke up,” Luke lies. “So, no. I don’t know where he is.”

“Did you text him or anything?”

“No.”

“Are you being serious right now? You two got pissed last night and when you
woke up Michael was gone, and you just did nothing?” Ashton’s voice sounds
closer, like he’s leaning right over Luke, attempting to work out why Luke
hasn’t been trying to track their friend down. “What if something happened to
him?”

It’s physically painful for Luke to grind out, “I’m a dick. Okay? I know I am,
and I’m sorry. But if you keep making so much noise I swear I’m going to puke
on you.”

Ashton mumbles something under his breath that Luke doesn’t catch, and then he
leaves.

“Can I get you anything? Water?” Calum asks, his voice really soft on purpose,
and Luke feels like shit because they’re both such good friends and he doesn’t
deserve them right now. Or maybe ever again.

“No,” he answers, and Calum pats his ankle gently and then he’s gone too.

Luke listens to them outside, the faint sounds of them talking worriedly and
then Ashton in a one-sided conversation that Luke assumes is with Michael on
the phone. So at least he’s okay – physically, anyway. Emotionally he’s
probably as wrecked as Luke, and the thought hurts more than anything.

Their voices get further away, and Luke falls asleep again. When he wakes up
the second time, he feels a little bit better. The room doesn’t spin when he
opens his eyes, and his headache is mostly gone. There’s chatter in the
kitchen, and Luke drags himself out of bed and pulls some clothes on, intending
to find his friends and apologize, until he hears Michael’s voice. He stiffens
and that panicky feeling comes back, overtaking his body in thick waves of
heat. He forces himself to keep moving anyway, because they’re friends and
they’re a band and he can’t hide from this in the bedroom forever, as much as
he’d like to. Maybe it will all be okay. Maybe Michael will want to pretend it
didn’t happen as much as Luke does.

Michael and Calum are sitting at the table and Ashton is hovering over
something boiling on the stove, and they all look up when Luke enters the room.

“Morning, sunshine,” Calum says with a smile. “You gonna live?”

“Still touch-and-go,” Luke answers. “Sorry I was a jerk earlier,” he adds,
directing the apology mostly at Ashton.

Ashton waves a hand at him to say it’s alright. “No worries, mate.”

Luke sits down with them at the table, and finally allows himself to make eye
contact with Michael. His hair is messier than usual and there are dark circles
under his eyes, but all in all he looks less worse-for-wear than Luke feels. He
sort of smiles at Luke, shy and uncertain like he’s silently asking if they are
okay. Luke tries to smile back, he really does, but doesn’t manage it at all.
He watches as Michael’s smile slips away and his face slowly falls, and then he
excuses himself in a quiet, sad voice and disappears off in the direction of
the bathroom.

It breaks Luke’s heart into a million pieces.

Calum frowns. “What’s up with him?”

“Um.” Luke fidgets uncomfortably and wracks his brain again for an excuse. “We
kinda had a bit of a fight last night.”

Ashton turns around with raised eyebrows. “You what?”

“It wasn’t … it’s not a big deal. We got drunk and said some things we
shouldn’t have. It’ll blow over.”

“Is that why he took off this morning?” Calum asks.

“You’d have to ask him.”

“We did.”

“What did he say?”

“That he wanted to be alone for a few hours.”

Luke shrugs and picks at the tattered sleeve of his sweater. “I guess he wanted
to be alone, then.”

He chances a glance up at them, and they’re both frowning at him. Ashton shakes
his head slowly. “There’s something you’re not telling us.”

“No, there isn’t,” Luke sighs. “I just … like I said. We got … carried away.
We’ll probably be pissed at each other for a day, and then we’ll forget it ever
happened. Okay? Nothing to worry about.”

He doesn’t believe the words himself, not for a second, so he doesn’t stick
around to see if Calum or Ashton believe them either. He leaves the kitchen and
flops down on the couch, tugging a blanket over himself and turning the TV on,
flicking channels until Zoolander comes on. He can still hear the others, back
in the kitchen, whispering. Luke assumes they’re whispering about him, so he
jacks up the volume and tries to let Ben Stiller take his mind off everything.

*           *           *

Luke dances around him for three days, and it’s agonizing. Michael gets it. He
understands why Luke’s uncomfortable, regretful, angry. He just wishes he could
take back the whole thing. He would’ve rather lived the rest of his life never
having Luke in that way than what they’re stuck with now. And he would’ve
rather lived the rest of his life never knowing how much he wants Luke in that
way. Michael was happy, living in his little bubble of denial over how he
feels. And then Luke’s lips were on his and Luke’s skin was under his fingers
and now Michael can never un-know what those things feel like.

He can never go back to being blissfully ignorant to the fact that he is
completely in love with his best friend.

Before that night, sure, Michael liked him. But it’s wasn’t like that. He likes
anybody, everybody. Luke is the best friend he’s ever had, and he’s so talented
and his eyes are so blue and it’s so cute how he smiles with his whole face,
and Michael had always had this dumb fantasy in which they had a friends-with-
benefits type deal where they messed around but it never meant anything. They
already can’t seem to keep their hands off each other, they already cuddle in
front of the TV and share a bed more often than not and warm their noses
against each other’s necks when the air-conditioning in hotel rooms chills
their skin. Michael always thought they could kiss sometimes, touch a little,
make each other come, and just have it be something they do together behind
closed doors but never really talk about. More like friends helping each other
out than boyfriends or something that requires a definition. It seemed so easy
in his head, like it was something that could actually exist without
complications. And he’s an idiot.

Of course it wouldn’t work like that. Friends don’t just start putting hands on
each other’s dicks and act like it’s as meaningless as borrowing a t-shirt.
Michael doesn’t know what he was thinking. Casual sex has never been Luke’s
thing, and it isn’t entirely Michael’s thing either but it reallyisn’t Luke’s
thing. When Luke commits, he commits hard, and Michael should have remembered
that before he let his mind wander into daydreams of sucking Luke off every now
and then and being informal about it.

He was wrong about Luke, and he was wrong about himself. He was wrong thinking
he wanted it to be casual. Completely, entirely, dead wrong. His brain does
this thing sometimes, where it doesn’t let him completely understand how he
feels or what he thinks about something right away. Like it’s protecting him
from something he isn’t ready for yet. Michael doesn’t know if that’s what
happened this time, or if he just didn’t realize it because he’s never slowed
down enough to think about it that hard. And when the realization hits, it hits
like a ton of bricks and it knocks Michael off his feet and rewrites everything
he thought he knew about … everything.

All those things he thought, about how he wanted to be casually sexual with
Luke sometimes and not have it mean anything? Wrong. And the thought that after
he and Luke messed around they could just go back to being best friends like
nothing has changed? Also wrong. Two for two. Michael feels so fucking stupid
he wants to put himself in a time-out for a month. He doesn’t want to be
friends with Luke. He doesn’t want benefits with Luke. He just wants Luke. All
of him. He wants to take Luke home to his parents and have dinner with him on
Valentine’s Day and kiss the bridge of his nose before they go to sleep. Wants
to love him, cuddle him, fuck him, be boyfriends with him.

He doesn’t know where this information has been hiding for the last two years,
because he’s sure it was there all along even if he didn’t know it. It had to
be. The things that Michael feels for Luke are not something that could have
developed overnight. They’re the kind of feelings that slow-burn, that start
out really small and grow quietly until they get big enough to take over.

Nothing is the same. Michael was so dumb to think it would be. He can’t just go
on, business as usual, with the things he knows now. He can’t see Luke put a
spoon to his mouth without remembering how soft Luke’s lips are, how warm and
desperate they were against Michael’s. He can’t hear Luke in the shower without
wondering if he’s jerking himself off; can picture it perfectly because he’s
seen it all. He can’t listen to Luke talk without remembering the other noises
that voice can make – the needy little moans and gasps when his cock was
against Michael’s. He can’t watch Luke walk around their house in his skinny
jeans without wanting to rip them off. He can’t notice Luke’s collar bone
peeking out from under a loose shirt without the taste of the sweat he licked
off it ghosting across his tongue.

Michael wants every bit of him, and if how awkward things have become between
them is any indication, Luke doesn’t want him back.

Calum and Ashton aren’t helping either, with how they’re sort of hovering
around both of them, trying to put their group back together while at the same
time adamant about pretending nothing has gone wrong. Michael doesn’t even know
what – if anything – Luke told them about what happened, so he feels nearly as
strained with Cal and Ash as he does with Luke; constantly in a state of
wondering what they do and don’t know about him now but too scared to ask. It’s
broken all four of them a little bit and eventually Michael decides he needs to
fix it, even if Luke doesn’t want to.

He finds Luke outside, sitting beside the pool with his jeans rolled up and his
bare feet in the water. He’s hunched over, his palms braced on the edge. Even
from behind he just looks … sad. Deflated. Michael hates that he’s the reason
Luke looks like that, when usually he’s so bubbly he’s uncontainable.

Michael walks up to him and sits next to him, and tries to ignore how much it
hurts that Luke flinches a little when he sees who’s joining him.

“Hey,” Michael says softly. He tucks his hands under his thighs to keep his
socked feet out of the water.

“Hi.”

Michael swallows. It feels like starting a conversation with a person he’s
never spoken to before – not someone he’s known for most of his life and loved
for years.

“Where’s Calum and Ashton?” Luke asks quietly, staring down at his toes through
the clear water.

“Target.” He swallows again and his throat feels swollen. “Figured … we should
talk. While they’re gone.”

“I’m so sorry, Michael,” Luke breathes, the words tumbling out of his mouth all
at once. “I can’t believe I did that to you, I’m such a – you must hate me
now.”

Michael blinks, confused. “I – what?”

Luke finally looks up at him, his blue eyes glassy like he’s holding in tears.
“I shouldn’t have … and now everything’s …”

He doesn’t need to finish either sentence for Michael to know what he means,
and Michael feels so stupid for thinking Luke was mad at him. He should have
known Luke wouldn’t be. Of course Luke wouldn’t be mad, because he’s Luke and
he’s the sweetest person on the planet so of course he would just be sitting
out here worrying that he hurt Michael. It makes him love Luke more. It makes
everything so much worse.

“I came out here to tell you I’m sorry,” Michael tells him.

“Why would you be sorry?”

“Because I thought it was my fault.”

Luke shakes his head and looks away again. “I’m pretty sure it’s mine.”

“So it’s no one’s fault, then,” Michael decides. He can do this. If it means
getting Luke back, he can pretend he regrets what they did. He can pretend not
to be in love. He’s almost sure of it. “We screwed up. People get drunk and
accidentally have sex with each other all the time, right? It’s not life-
ruining.”

“I guess.”

“We gotta stop being weird around each other, okay?”

“You’re not mad at me?” Luke asks, those damn sad cartoon eyes turned back in
Michael’s direction, and his stomach flips.

He throws an arm over Luke’s shoulders, and his feet hit the water and his
socks get wet and he doesn’t care. Luke shuffles in closer immediately, like he
was waiting for permission to do it, and pushes his face into Michael’s neck.
Michael wraps both arms around him and hugs him tight. It hurts, more than
anything, to have his arms full of what he wants so badly and can never have.

“I’m not mad. I was worried you were.”

Luke shakes his head, his hair tickling under Michael’s chin.

“So we can just pretend this never happened?”

It takes Luke a little too long to tentatively ask, “Is … that what you want?”
and Michael’s confused by the question, wants to ask Luke if it’s what he wants
because honestly he just assumed it would be but now he’s not sure, but then
the door opens behind them and punctures the moment.

Fast footsteps approach them and then there’s a body flying above their heads
as Calum jumps over them into the pool. When he hits the water he’s only a foot
in front of Michael’s knees and the splash soaks them both. Michael sees it
coming but can’t recoil away quickly enough to avoid it.

“Hey!” Luke yells, laughing loudly and shaking his wet hands. “Dick.”

“You’re the in splash zone!” Calum tells him with an enormous, pleased-with-
himself sort of smile.

Luke kicks at him, and Calum grabs him by the ankle and drags him all the way
into the pool, fully clothed and swearing. Michael laughs, and so does Ashton
as he joins them outside.

“Don’t be surprised if I wake you up tomorrow by dumping a bucket of toilet
water on your head,” Luke says, shoving at Calum playfully.

Calum laughs and dunks Luke’s head under the water, and then swims away while
Luke chases him.

Ashton sits beside Michael and bumps his shoulder. “You guys good now?”

Michael nods. “I think so.”

It isn’t really a lie. Michael and Luke are good. Michael on his own, isn’t.
But he can fake it.

“Do we ever get to know what you were fighting about?”

Michael pauses, still not really knowing what Luke told them as a cover and not
wanting to blow it. “It … it doesn’t matter. It was stupid anyway.”

Ashton nods. “Fair enough. Can I push you in the pool?”

Michael glares at him. “I will never speak to you again if you do.”

Ashton giggles, his eyes sparkling. “Okay fine. Party pooper.”

He gets up and cannonballs himself into the pool, intentionally sending another
giant wave in Michael’s direction, and Michael flips him off as he swims off to
help Calum, who’s either trying to tickle Luke or murder him, Michael can’t
quite tell.

“If any of you idiots drown I’m not giving you CPR,” he informs them.

“Three-fourths of 5sos die in underwater tickle fight,” Calum says, spreading
his hands out in front of his face like he’s reading the headline of a
newspaper.

“The punk-ist way to go,” Michael muses.

“I do what I want I’m punk rock!” all three of his band-mates quote loudly at
the same time, and Calum adds, “No you’re not, you have pink hair!”

Michael simultaneously wants to snuggle them all and beat them over the head
with a baseball bat. “It’s not pink anymore!”

“Would you just get in here?” Ashton demands. “If we’re gonna die in our pool
we have to do it together!”

“No!” Michael answers.

“Come on,” Luke whines, dragging out the second word. “We’re banding. We can’t
do it without you.”

“There’s no way this qualifies as banding!” Michael protests, but then he sighs
and gives in. He pushes himself off the pavement and slips into the pool, his
baggy shirt flowing around him like a cape. The expressions on his friends’
faces suggest Michael just did something significantly more amazing than jump
into a pool, and Michael loves them, and hates them, and mostly loves them.
They pull him into an awkward, wet, four-way hug when he gets to them, and
Michael’s still not convinced this won’t end in somebody needing emergency
mouth-to-mouth, but the way Luke smiles at him is too nice so Michael just goes
with it. He hasn’t seen Luke smile in three days. Whatever his insane friends
want to do is fine with Michael if it means he gets those dimples back.

*           *           *
***** Chapter 2 *****
Luke tries to have things go back to normal with Michael. He really, honestly
tries. He tries not to act like he’s uncomfortable, he tries to make the same
jokes, to touch him as much as he used to – carefully not more or less – to
just act like he would have acted last week before this happened. It doesn’t
really work. It’s off, between them, in a way that probably wouldn’t be that
noticeable to anyone else because they’re both working hard to hide it, but
something has slipped out of place. What was once easy banter feels forced, and
Luke finds himself caught between wanting to spend too much time with Michael,
over-compensating for the awkwardness, and wanting to spend no time with him,
because he can’t get what they did out of his head.

It takes a day or two for Luke to work out that what he’s feeling isn’t quite
regret. It should be, but it isn’t. He can lie to himself all he wants but it
doesn’t make the truth go away – that he liked it. What happened. He liked
kissing Michael and touching him and being with him without clothes. He liked
it more than anything he’s had with anyone else – and that isn’t a whole lot of
other somethings, but even still. Luke tries to tell himself it’s just because
it felt good, because stuff like that always feels good. It feels good when
Luke touches himself, and he’s never been worried he might secretly be gay for
his right hand. But it was different, if he’s honest. It felt more than
physical. He also tries to tell himself it was just the alcohol, but the truth
is, yeah he was drunk, but he wasn’t that drunk. He remembers every second of
it, so he wasn’t drunk enough to blame it entirely on the whiskey Michael was
pouring down his throat.

He can’t blame anything or anyone but himself. He kissed Michael, not the other
way around. Michael didn’t stop it, but Luke started it. He wouldn’t have done
that if he didn’t want to. The realization is terrifying, because it means so
many things that Luke isn’t at all prepared to deal with. He starts avoiding
Michael, avoiding all of them really, because he’s never been a good liar and
he’s so scared they’ll see it on his face. He’s scared he’ll look into
Michael’s big, green eyes and just start crying. This wasn’t supposed to
happen. It was never part of his plan. And he has no idea how to handle it.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s up with you?” Calum asks him one day, while
they’re both in the kitchen and Michael and Ashton aren’t within earshot.

Luke pretends he doesn’t know what Calum’s talking about. He’s not sure he
could actually talk about this with Calum even if he wanted to. If he tried,
probably he would just open his mouth and no words would come out.

“You think we haven’t noticed? You’re all … I don’t know. Not yourself lately.
I haven’t heard you say more than twenty words in like two days. Usually we
can’t get you to shut up.”

Luke shrugs. He puts coffee on for something to do with his hands and so he
doesn’t have to look at Calum, not because he’s actually planning on drinking
it. “I’m okay,” he lies. It doesn’t sound convincing in the slightest.

“It this because of what happened that night with Michael?” Calum pushes.
“Because you’ve both been weird since then, even after I thought you made up.
Did he say something to you? Do I need to go kick his ass?”

“No,” Luke says quietly. Calum is a better friend than he deserves. “He didn’t,
it’s … this isn’t his fault. It’s mine.”

“Whatis?”

It’s on the tip of Luke’s tongue to tell him, to spill his guts out right there
in the kitchen for anyone to stomp all over, but then he loses his nerve all at
once. He can’t. If he says it out loud, it will be real. “I can’t,” he mumbles,
a hot, embarrassed flush running through his body as he turns tail and leaves
the room.

He dreams about Michael that night. There are grabbing hands and tongues on
heated skin and pleasure-soaked moans, and Luke wakes up drenched in sweat with
his heart racing. He blinks into the darkness, turned on and terrified, and
rolls onto his side to muffle the sound when tears spill from his eyes.

“Luke? Are you okay?” Michael’s voice asks softly, from the doorway, but Luke
squeezes his eyes shut and doesn’t answer. He must have been moaning, Michael
must have heard him and assumed he was having a nightmare. If he only knew how
completely wrong he is about that.

Luke wants Michael to climb into the bed behind him, wrap him up and hug him
until Luke feels like he can breath properly again. When they were in London,
if Luke was ever homesick or stressed or sad, a half hour in Michael’s arms
always made him feel better when nothing else could. And now, when he needs
Michael’s comforting touch the most, Michael is the last person in the world
Luke can ask for it. The door creaks closed after a minute and soft footsteps
get smaller as they get further away, and Luke lets out the breath he’d been
holding.

He squirms, trying to get comfortable, trying to think about football, toast,
anything that isn’t sexual so his stupid dick will calm down and let him go
back to sleep, but it’s useless. He grabs it and jerks it, too hard to feel
nice, makes himself come in minutes with his face pushed into the pillow to
stifle the grunt he can’t hold back. Luke wants Michael there to kiss him
after. Then he wants to jump in front of a train. An orgasm has never felt so
terrible before.

*           *           *

Michael watches his friends in the pool, from the windows on the second floor.
He feels like a creep, but it lets him observe Luke from a distance and think.
He isn’t into the pool as much as the others are. He doesn’t like the way he
looks without a shirt, especially compared to his stupid, handsome bandmates –
all of them tanned and broad-shouldered. If Michael looked like Calum, he’d be
naked all the time too. But he doesn’t.

Luke is beautiful, and it sucks. The way he yells, splashes, plays around.
Michael can hear his laugh even from inside, loud and bright and sparkly. Then
Ashton’s manic giggles make Michael smile through his melancholy, but only for
a moment. Luke climbs out of the water, strong and streamlined like an athlete,
and then cannonballs back in, and it’s nothing new at all. Michael’s been
watching him for years, out of the corners of his eyes. Always looking out for
him, looking after him, like he promised Liz he’d keep doing after she wasn’t
around anymore. Luke was so quiet, once upon a time, and Michael wanted to
protect him from a world that isn’t always so nice to shy boys with blue eyes
and reckless optimism. But lately he’s been watching him in a different way.
Everything Luke does now reminds Michael of things he shouldn’t be thinking
about. Everything he says is cute, even the dumb things. Every bit of him, day
in and day out, just makes Michael want him more.

What Michael’s currently spying on is a rare moment of happiness for Luke these
days. He’s trying to hide it, but most of the time failing. Michael can see the
way he’s just crumbling, getting worse day after day, and he hates himself for
it so much it makes him want to throw himself off a cliff. He did this, he
broke his best friend. Luke used to be loud and silly and so happy all the time
it was almost annoying, and now most of the time he’s quiet and withdrawn. He
wanders around the house some days just looking lost, and it makes Michael feel
sick.

The worst part is, it doesn’t stop Michael from lusting after him. It doesn’t
stop his fingers from itching to run through Luke’s hair, it doesn’t make it
easier to imagine how good it would feel to kiss all that pain away.

Since he figured out how he feels, it’s like his mind has been playing catch-up
on the last few years, his emotions scanning through everything he’s felt for
Luke over the years and introducing them to his brain in quick succession. All
the moments in their history when his heart loved something Luke did or said
but his brain didn’t notice. It feels like falling for him in fast-forward.
There’s nothing about Luke he isn’t so in love with it’s painful. His face, his
hair, the way he sings off-key in the shower, the growth-spurt that left him a
head taller than anyone else, his talent, the way he lights up when he’s on
stage, his loyalty, how he’s a big pile of giggles and cuddles and goofing-off
but at the same time is more serious about the band than any of them. He’s
perfect for Michael in every possible way, and Michael can’t have him.

Then, on top of everything else, there’s what he’s done to the band. It used to
be the most comfortable thing in the world, the four of them together, goofing
off and teasing and laughing so much most days Michael goes to sleep with sore
abs. Michael spent most of his childhood feeling isolated, like he never quite
fit in, and it wasn’t until he stop hating Luke and they all got together that
he finally felt he could just be himself. It was like being set free, getting
to let his true self shine through and knowing they would love him anyway. He
owes so much to the three of them, and now he’s let them down in the worst way
possible.

They used to work so well together, writing and recording and playing shows and
spending every minute fighting for this dream they’ve had for so long that’s
finally coming true. It happened because they did it together, and if what he
and Luke did means things will never go back to the way they were before,
Michael doesn’t know what any of them are going to do. Calum and Ashton have
been waiting, patiently, for everything to flip back to normal, and Michael
wants it to but he doesn’t know if it can. He’s so, so scared it never will.
That this will ruin them, everything they’ve worked for.

He’s never falling in love again. He doesn’t know why people ever do it in the
first place. It just hurts.

After a week, he can’t take it anymore. It’s eating him up inside, keeping all
these feelings in, not being able to talk about them. He wants to tell Luke how
he feels so damn badly – Michael’s never been one for hiding his emotions or
keeping secrets from people who are important to him. But he can’t tell Luke,
because Luke doesn’t feel the same way, and if their one night together has
undone Luke this much, finding out Michael is in love with him would just end
him altogether. He wouldn’t be able to exist in the same room as Michael
anymore, and Michael would die.

He needs to tell someone, though, before the ache in his chest starts burning
holes in his skin. He settles on Ashton, because he’s older and he’s the most
grown-up of all of them, in more ways than just physical age. He gives good
advice, and he’s always so honest with them, about anything. He never judges.
It makes Michael feel like he’ll listen, and maybe it will actually be okay.
Maybe Michael can actually do it, admit how he feels, and Ashton will just pat
his back and sympathize and then maybe help him get over it.

*           *           *

Luke walks into the living room, his socks sliding over the slippery floor. The
backs of Ashton and Michael’s heads are just barely visible above the top of
the couch from where they’re sitting on the floor in front of it, backs to the
cushions.

“How … um. How long have you …?” Ashton’s voice is asking.

“I don’t know,” Michael’s voice mumbles. “A really long time, I think.”

Luke frowns. He was about to hop over the back of the couch and join them, but
now he stops short. Something is wrong. There’s something in their voices.
Ashton sounds uncomfortable, Michael sounds embarrassed and sad, and Luke
doesn’t understand what that means.

“Like since school?”

“Maybe.” There’s a pause, like he’s thinking it over, and then he adds,
“Probably.”

“Shit, Michael,” Ashton breathes.

“I know. It’s so screwed up.” He sounds miserable and Luke aches to hug him
even though he still doesn’t know what they’re talking about. He’s about to
ask, or at least say something to make his presence known because they haven’t
noticed him, are faced away from him, and he feels like he’s spying. Then
Ashton speaks again before he can.

“Are you gonna tell him?”

Michael squirms a little, flexing his shoulders. “Um. Something kinda …
happened. Already.”

Luke frowns deeper and his heart races a little because they can’t be talking
about what it’s starting to sound like they’re talking about. No, they aren’t.
It wouldn’t make sense.

“Something like what?” Ashton asks, slowly.

“Like, you know. We did … stuff.”

The word no is running on a loop through Luke’s head. This isn’t happening. It
can’t be happening. Luke still hasn’t managed to fully figure out how he feels
about what happened between them, whether he’s even okay with the fact that he
kind of sort of maybe has a crush on Michael that he didn’t think Michael
reciprocated. He’s nowhere near ready for anyone else to know.

“Are you serious? Is this what all that was about, before?” Ashton sounds
almost annoyed about it. “You guys got drunk and fucked and now it’s weird?”

“It’s not …” Michael sighs and rubs his hands over his hair. “I don’t know what
to do.”

“Okay, but do you just like, have a crush on him? Like something that might go
away? Or do you like him like him?”

“I think maybe I love him,” Michael whispers.

Luke’s heart stops and his head spins and everything slows down like the moment
before a car crash in a movie. Surreal, spiraling, time inching by and everyone
can see disaster approaching but no one can stop it. This might be what dying
feels like.

Then the front door creaks open and slams closed, Calum’s voice calls out,
“What’s up, bitches?” and before Luke can even get his brain into escape mode,
Ashton and Michael are turning around to address Calum and getting hit with an
unexpected eyeful of Luke, standing there, eavesdropping on their conversation
about how he and Michael did things and now it’s weird because Michael might be
in love with him.

Michael looks terrified. Ashton looks indignant. And Luke feels like he’s going
to throw up.

“Hey guys, I …” Calum begins, entering the room and letting the sentence fall
away as he takes in the three of them staring at each other like cowboys about
to duel. “Uh … what’s going on?”

Luke’s brain doesn’t know how to form thoughts that aren’t shit.

“Guys? Hello?” Calum tries again.

Michael stands up and turns away from them, walks a few steps and then stops,
covering his face with his hands and groaning quietly.

“Welcome home, Cal,” Ashton says finally, his jaw clenched. “Michael was just
telling me about how he and Luke got drunk and had sex that night we stayed at
Jack’s.”

Calum just stares at him, trying to work out if he’s joking or not. Luke’s face
feels like it’s on fire.

“Oh, and, apparently, Michael loves him, and Luke was just back there listening
to the whole fucking thing and probably the band is ruined now because there’s
no way it will ever not be weird between us ever again.”

The accuracy of that statement makes Luke feel like crying. This is exactly
what he was so scared of, exactly why he was so reluctant to even let himself
consider the possibility of having feelings for Michael.

Calum is looking back and forth between them, his head swiveling like he’s
watching a tennis match, and Luke can’t meet his gaze. He can’t look directly
at anyone. He feels like his skin doesn’t belong to him anymore.

“Is this … are you being for real right now?” Calum asks. “Luke?”

“I … I didn’t know,” Luke rasps, finally finding his voice even if it comes out
weak and scratchy. “We were drunk, we … it was a mistake. We both said it was a
mistake. I didn’t know he …”

“Fuck,” Michael mutters from the corner.

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Ashton snaps.

“Are you gay?” Calum asks Michael.

“Well if he’s in love with Luke, he’s gay enough!” Ashton answers.

In the midst of what’s maybe the worst moment of his life, Luke still manages
to feel offended on behalf of Michael. “Dude, that’s not – if it’s who he is,
then –”

“Don’t do that,” Ashton interrupts. “Don’t make it seem like that’s what this
is about. I don’t care if he’s gay. Fuck guys, girls, both, whatever! Fuck
blow-up dolls if you want, I don’t care! I care because he fucked you!”

“He didn’t!” Luke protests, his voice coming out in a high, embarrassed squeak.
The way Ashton says it makes what they did sound dirty and wrong and Luke hates
it because he’s so scared that’s exactly what it was. “We didn’t, it wasn’t …
like that.”

“That’s not the point!”

Michael groans again and drops down onto the couch. He looks like he wishes he
was anywhere else in the galaxy right now than where he is. Luke knows how it
feels.

“This is serious!” Calum says loudly, getting upset, and it makes Luke’s heart
race. They’ve never fought before. He doesn’t know how to handle this. “We’re
supposed to be a band! Our whole thing works because we’re friends.”

“The three of you fucking cuddle too much,” Ashton mutters, his expression
turned dark as well. “I fucking should’ve known this was gonna happen.”

“What if this starts affecting our shit?” Calum asks. “Like what if he can’t be
around you anymore? What the fuck then?”

“Why do I have to have an answer for that?” Luke cries. “This isn’t my fault!”

“You’re one of only two people who were there, so it’s at least half your
fault!”

“We can just pretend this never happened, okay?” Luke pleads. He doesn’t
believe it, and neither does anyone else.

“Can we?” Calum challenges. “Do you even want to? Do you like him back?”

“I … I don’t …” Luke stammers. He can’t answer the question. It scares him
right down to his core, in actuality, but he’s not going to say that either.

“Alright, bottom line? This could ruin everything,” Ashton snarls, suddenly
madder than Luke’s ever seen him. “Look, if Michael wants to be gay then that’s
fine. That’s great. But if the two of you start doing – whatever … everything
we have, everything we’ve worked so fucking hard for. We could lose it all! Do
you getthat? What the hell do you think is gonna happen when management finds
out?”

“He is jeopardizing our career, our future, everything, like Ash said,” Calum
adds, counting off on his fingers all the things he thinks Michael is going to
ruin.

Michael makes a tiny, muffled noise, like he’s trying to hold in a sob. Luke
realizes he hasn’t actually looked directly at Michael since everyone started
yelling, but he looks over now. Michael is curled in on himself, his arms
wrapped protectively around his own stomach, and there are tears streaming down
his face. It makes Luke’s heart ache. And it breaks something inside him, and
he’s so fucking done with this conversation.

“Okay. That’s enough.”

“We have to figure this out!” Ashton says, but Luke just glares at him.

“I said that’s enough, and I fucking mean it. Look what you’re doing to him!”

Ashton looks confused for a second but then his eyes flick over to Michael, and
Luke watches on his face as Ashton realizes they’ve gone too far. His whole
face crumples, and he looks disgusted with himself. “Fuck,” he mutters.
“Michael, I … I didn’t mean that.”

“Didn’t mean what,” Michael mutters, not meeting anyone’s eyes or looking like
he actually wants an answer to the question.

Calum’s eyes are wide and he’s glancing back and forth between all of them like
he’s afraid they’re going to explode, but he doesn’t speak. Ashton rubs his
hands over his face, pushes his hair back, and walks slowly over to the couch
where Michael’s still crying silently. Always the most mature of all of them,
he sits next to him and puts his arm around Michael’s shoulders, hand rubbing
slowly over the top of his arm.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly; genuinely. “I really am. We’re jerks.”

Michael doesn’t answer, and his eyes stay glued to a spot on the floor near his
feet. He looks both devastated and like he hates himself for it, and Luke
really wishes Calum and Ashton would leave. Suddenly he has never needed
anything more than to be in Michael’s lap; to make all that sadness go away.

“We … we’re still gonna have to figure this out,” Ashton continues, being
careful about it. He leans in and gives Michael a sideways, one-armed hug. “But
we love you, alright? For exactly who you are. Whatever that is.”

Michael sniffs and manages a small nod. Ashton ruffles his hair fondly and then
lets go of him and stands. He exchanges a look with Calum, speaking silent
words with their eyes, and Calum says, “We’ll give you guys some time.”

Luke’s grateful for it, although he doesn’t say that out loud. He loves them,
he really does. And he understands why they’re upset, and knows they didn’t
mean to hurt Michael. But they did hurt him, and right now Luke just doesn’t
want them here. They gather up their wallets and keys and put shoes on and then
they’re gone, and Luke lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
For a moment, he doesn’t move. He’s unsure, of what to do and what to say and
even what to feel. Michael’s admission still feels fresh and raw and it’s
messing with Luke’s head. Making him wonder things. It scares him.

Then another small, sad sound escapes from Michael, and suddenly it’s all
simple again. He’s hurting, and Luke loves him, so everything else doesn’t
matter. He sits, putting himself in Michael’s space, pressed up against his
side, and runs one hand through Michael’s soft hair.

“M’sorry,” Michael mumbles, sounding ashamed.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Luke tells him.

Michael shakes his head, big, sad tears still spilling from his red-rimmed
eyes. “I fucked everything up. They’re right.”

“No, you didn’t.” He tries to pull Michael in closer, his arms feeling way too
empty, but Michael stiffens. He doesn’t move when Luke tugs at him, and Luke
whispers, “Please?”

“Don’t.” Michael breathes the word, and it’s maybe the worst sound Luke’s ever
heard.

“Cuddle?” he asks in a baby voice, recycling an old joke, and thankfully
Michael laughs. It’s wet because he’s crying, but it’s a laugh. That one is
maybe the best sound Luke’s ever heard.

Michael gives in, leaning into Luke and pushing his damp face against Luke’s
neck. Luke wraps him up, and closes his eyes and just breathes in the smell of
Michael’s hair and soaks up the feel of him. He’s warm and familiar and it
makes Luke feel just a little better. He’s always been happiest with Michael
this close. He’s just never had to wonder whether he shouldn’t be.

“Is it weird now?” Michael asks quietly. “Because of …”

“No,” Luke answers honestly. “Feels the same.”

Michael doesn’t respond, so Luke doesn’t know if he’s pleased with the answer.

“Do you … um. Wanna tell me about it? What you … feel?”

Michael sighs unsteadily; Luke notices how his shoulders shake. “It’s not gonna
gross you out?”

“No. Mikey … no. No way,” Luke promises. He can feel anxiety and insecurity
coming off Michael like waves and he wants those emotions to leave and never
come back. His own discomfort gets shoved aside in his need to make his friend
feel better. “I’m not grossed out. Youare not gross. You’re just … Michael.
You’re the same as you’ve always been.”

It’s a minute before Michael replies. When he does, his voice is small and
scared. “I’m sorry. Everything’s all broken now and it’s my fault.”

“Please don’t be sorry,” Luke murmurs. “Shit, if anything, I’m the one who
should be sorry. Why didn’t you tell me this before? When we talked about what
happened?”

“You wanted to forget it.”

Luke doesn’t answer because it’s burning in his chest to say he doesn’t want to
forget it, but he can’t. He can’t do this, he can’t be this person who just
feels what he feels and doesn’t mind if people talk. He isn’t as brave as
Michael.

“I know you don’t feel the same way,” Michael says, so Luke won’t have to. He’s
considerate even when he’s shattered inside, and it makes Luke hate himself. He
wants to tell Michael that isn’t entirely true, but he’s a coward and he
doesn’t. “I don’t … I’ll get over it. I swear I will. It just might take some
time.”

“It’s okay. We’re okay.” Luke wants to believe it. He wants it to be true. It
isn’t, though. He isn’t okay. With how Michael feels, with how confused it
makes him, with the thought that this could so easily tear them apart and make
it so they can’t even be friends anymore. He’s not okay with losing Michael,
but he’s not okay with having him either. Not like that. Even if all he’s been
able to think of lately is what it would be like. If Michael would hold him all
night long, even when it gets too hot, because he’s clingy like that. If he
would kiss Luke awake with soft pecks to his closed eyelids. If he’d take
Luke’s hand in public and not care what people think.

Suddenly Luke’s skin is itchy underneath and his clothes don’t feel right. He’s
sweaty and uncomfortable with how good it feels having Michael pressed up
against him. It isn’t supposed to feel like this. Luke doesn’t know why he
never realized that until just now. This thing they do, where they’re always in
each other’s space, always touching, always wrapped around each other – it’s
how Luke should be with a girl. Not his best friend.

“I … um.” He loosens his grip on Michael, and thankfully Michael gets it.

He sits up, rubbing his face and not looking at Luke. “Yeah. I’m gonna …”

He waves a hand in front of his chest, like he’s trying to think of some excuse
to leave, and then he gives up and just leaves without one. He heads upstairs,
and Luke watches him go, blinking back tears.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Luke is in the kitchen, sipping coffee and quietly trying not to melt into a
full existential crisis, when the door opens and closes, maybe thirty minutes
after Michael disappeared upstairs, and his friends find him.

“Hey,” Ashton says, glancing around, looking for Michael. “Is he …?”

“Bedroom,” Luke answers. Ashton looks like a kicked puppy, and Calum doesn’t
look much better, and Luke isn’t angry with them anymore. He’s too mixed up in
his own head to have any room for feelings about their fight.

“I feel like such a dick.” Ashton leans against the kitchen counter and sighs.

“Me too,” Calum agrees, sitting at the table.

“I’m the worst friend in the world,” Ashton continues, sighing again and then
groaning a little in frustration. “He came to me, he was trying to talk to me
about what happened and what he was going through and I just got mad at him for
it. There seriously has never been a bigger jerk than me.”

Luke thinks that’s maybe a little over-dramatic, but he doesn’t say so.

“Did you talk?” Calum asks.

Luke nods. “He’s worried you guys are right, that he’s gonna fuck up the band.”

Ashton swears under his breath. “I shouldn’t’ve said that. It didn’t come out
the way I meant it.”

“So go tell him that.”

Ashton nods and goes, clapping Luke on the shoulder on his way past.

“D’you … uh. Like him back?” Calum asks, timid about it, like he thinks it’ll
make Luke mad.

Luke presses his lips together and occupies the spot Ashton just vacated, his
ass resting against the countertop. He crosses his arms over his chest and
looks at the floor. “I … I don’t know,” he answers. It’s the truth, and it’s
hard enough to even admit that much. “My head is a mess.”

“I didn’t think you were into guys.”

“I’m not.” That’s the truth too. “I’m really not, I just …”

“Singular same-sex attraction?” Calum quips, and it’s his way of lightening the
mood but it makes Luke squirm.

“Do we have to talk about this?”

“No. Not if you don’t want to.”

Luke nods and doesn’t respond.

Calum is only silent for a moment before he says, “I’m not totally surprised, I
guess. You guys have always been … you know? I thought you were just close, I
thought … I don’t know what I thought. I thought you were just like the rest of
us. But you’re not. The way I feel about you, and Michael and Ash, I mean, I
love you guys. But it’s not the same, as the way Michael looks at you.”

Luke feels the tips of his ears heat up. Calum’s words make him kind of happy,
and kind of uncomfortable, and a whole lot of confused. He wonders if that’s
always been true, about Michael. If he’s always felt things for Luke that the
rest of them don’t feel for each other. If Luke was the only one who never
noticed, if he didn’t want to notice because it scared him.

“And sometimes you … look back,” Calum adds.

Luke lifts his head to frown at his friend. “I do?”

“Sometimes.”

“How could I do that without knowing I’m doing it?”

“I don’t know. You do, though. You two get all fond over each other sometimes.
It’s gross.” Calum makes a face to communicate he isn’t serious about that last
comment. “So maybe you do. Like him.”

Luke sighs again and digs the heels of his palms into his closed eyes. “I can’t
deal with this right now.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Okay.” Calum stands up. “Well if … you know. You ever do wanna deal with it.
I’m here, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“I gotta go tell Michael I’m sorry for being a douche.”

“Yeah,” Luke says again, watching Calum go and not getting any closer to having
his head properly around the situation and what the hell he’s going to do about
it.

He heads up the stairs after a few minutes, arriving in time to hear the tail
end of Michael groaning and demanding Calum and Ashton get off him. They’re all
on Michael’s bed when Luke steps into the doorway, Michael in the middle and
the other two hugging him obnoxiously from either side.

“Nope. We love you, and you’re never getting rid of us,” Ashton tells him.

Luke chuckles. “Are you guys good?”

“If I say yes will you stop slobbering on my neck?” Michael asks, shooting a
dirty look in Calum’s direction.

“Probably not,” Calum answers, while Ashton giggles and joins in the fun –
nuzzling into Michael’s cheek and licking his ear.

“I seriously hate you guys,” Michael grumbles, and none of them believe him for
a second.

“Band cuddle!” Luke yells, bouncing into the room and diving onto the pile,
sending them all horizontal and getting someone’s elbow painfully in his side.

They tussle and then settle, and Ashton starts chatting about something
Spongebob related but Luke isn’t really listening. He ended up in the middle
with Michael, and they’re all on top of each other and in each other’s space
but when Michael smiles unsurely at him somehow it still feels intimate,
secretive. Calum drapes his arm over Luke’s ribs, spooning him from behind,
while Michael moves in close and tucks his head under Luke’s chin, and only one
feels like it means something. Luke tends to snuggle up against anyone who’ll
let him, but all the times he’s done it with Calum, it never feels like it does
with Michael. There’s no good explanation for why Luke never quite noticed that
until just now. He’s got them on either side of him, and it’s like he can
finally compare the two because he’s never had both at the same time before.
They’re like scales, tipping back and forth as he weighs them against each
other and then falling decidedly in Michael’s direction.

Luke is so damn done for.

He cups his hand around the back of Michael’s neck and closes his eyes,
continuing to not listen fully to whatever Ashton’s talking about and trying
earnestly not to think about how good Michael’s hair smells.

*           *           *

Eventually it becomes too much. The thoughts get too tangled up in Luke’s head
and he can’t figure out how he feels because it’s like trying to navigate
through a mess of tangled vines. He needs to talk to someone who isn’t
involved, someone with a clear head who can help steer him in the right
direction. The only person he can think of is his mum. He isn’t thrilled at the
idea of telling her about this. He’s always been able to talk to her about
anything, but this feels … different. She’s his mother, the existence of sex is
something they should just both quietly be aware of but never actually discuss.
But Luke doesn’t know who else to go to. His family is all he has, other than
the band, and Calum and Ashton are too close to the situation. He also doesn’t
feel right talking with them about Michael. It feels like going behind
Michael’s back; they’re his friends too.

He does some quick time-zone calculations in his head and waits for a time when
it’ll be mid-morning in Sydney, when he knows she’ll probably be at home. He
spends twenty minutes giving himself an internal pep-talk before he dials the
number, and he manages to get to a place where he’s confident he can do this.
He can tell her what happened, what’s still happening. And then she answers, an
enthusiastic, “Hi baby!” and Luke falls apart.

He can’t do this. He can’t do it at all.

“Mum,” he whines, sounding pitiful.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Liz asks, concern and worry in her voice and Luke
crumbles even more.

He sinks onto the bed, tipping his head back onto the pillow and closing his
eyes, grateful the others aren’t home right now so he can break properly and
not worry about being caught.

“Luke,” she tries again, all soft and comforting this time. “Talk to me.”

“Something happened.”

“What did? Is somebody hurt?”

Luke shakes his head, and then realizes she can’t see it through the phone,
thousands of miles away from him. She’s so, so far away right now, and Luke
aches for her to hug him. “No. No, it’s … I did something. Something really
bad, and now everything’s all messed up.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it can be fixed.”

“What if it can’t?” That’s what Luke is afraid of the most. That this one
thing, this one tiny moment in his life, is going to make it so nothing will
ever go back to the way it was.

“Things can always be fixed. Tell me what happened.”

Luke takes a deep breath, shuddery from the tears he hadn’t realized were
spilling from his eyes. His heart races because he’s so damn scared to tell
her, but he makes himself say it. “I … me and Michael.”

“Oh,” Liz says softly, like she knows what he’s going to say before he says it.
Like maybe she was expecting this to happen, like maybe she saw something
between them, when she was with them all the time. It makes Luke feels so
stupid again, that he was the only one who never noticed.

“Yeah. And now everything’s broken and I don’t … Mum, I don’t know what to do.”

“What exactly happened?”

Luke shifts uncomfortably and wrinkles his nose, really not wanting to go into
details. It’s too embarrassing, even if he was talking about a girl. “We
kissed. And … stuff. But we were drunk, it wasn’t …”

“Did you talk to him about it?”

“We both said it was an accident. But then I found out he thinks he’s in love
with me and I’m …” Luke swallows and a few more tears spill down his cheeks.
“I’m really …”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Liz murmurs. “I wish I could be there to hug you.”

“Me too,” Luke whispers.

“What are you going to do?”

“I … I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel, it’s all jumbled up in my head, and
I just … maybe, I might … what if I love him back?” The admission takes even
Luke by surprise. He doesn’t remember his brain telling his mouth to form those
words. They just spilt out on their own, and now they exist and Luke can’t take
them back. He isn’t sure if he wants to take them back, but he couldn’t. If he
did want to. It’s terrifying, and suddenly Luke understands exactly how Michael
must feel.

Liz pauses, like she’s confused. “Wait, but if you love him back, what’s the
problem?”

“That’s the problem.”

“Honey, that’s not a problem! I thought you were telling me he has feelings for
you and you don’t feel the same. If you love him too, just go tell him that.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because …” Luke presses his lips together and squeezes his eyes shut tight.
His face burns with shame he wishes he didn’t feel and fears he wishes he
didn’t have. “Because what then? We couldn’t just be together and have it be
that easy. We’re a band, we can’t … it would be weird. It would change things
for everyone, not just me and him. It would affect Calum and Ashton too.”

“Don’t you think your friends would be happy for you?

“But then we’d have to tell people, and I’d have to be …”

“Someone who likes boys?” she finishes, and Luke squirms again. He really hates
himself for how uncomfortable that makes him. He wishes he could just accept
it, like Michael does. Michael’s considered himself bisexual since before Luke
was even friends with him, and he’s always just worn it on his sleeve like a
badge – like it’s who he is and fuck whoever has a problem with it. To Luke,
the idea of people knowing he likes another guy is horrifying. He’d love to be
fearless, like Michael, but he isn’t.

“What would Jack and Ben say?”

“Don’t be silly. They’re your brothers. Who you love doesn’t change who you
are, Lukey. You’re still you. We would all love you exactly the same as we do
now.”

Luke just sniffs and keeps his eyes closed and doesn’t answer.

“Look. Baby, I know, alright? It’s still strange for me to think of you as a
celebrity, but you are one, and that’s mixed up in all this. I know it wouldn’t
be as simple as two people deciding to be together and that’s that. I know
there are so many more things at play because of what you do, who you are. But
the thing is, we don’t get a lot of chances to be loved by someone in this
world. If you walk away from this, you might be walking away from something
that could make you both so happy. I know it’s scary. But don’t you think it
might be worth it?”

“What if it isn’t?”

She makes a soft clicking noise, and Luke can picture her smiling, exasperated
and fond. “Now, where’s my brave little boy who left everything he’s ever known
behind and moved across the world to chase his dreams? None of you knew for
sure you’d make it. You just believed in yourselves and each other and you took
a risk.”

“That’s not the same.”

“Of course it is,” Liz says matter-of-factly, in way that makes Luke want to
believe her. “It took enormous courage to do what you did. Stop all of this
self-doubt. If he’s who you’re supposed to be with, everything else will work
itself out. Believe in yourself, and believe in Michael, and just take a
chance.”

Chatting with her helps, but at the same time makes Luke even more confused. It
makes him aware that it shouldn’t be so complex, this love business. He always
thought he’d just meet someone and fall in love and that would be that, and
then Michael came along and made everything complicated because he’s a boy and
because he’s in Luke’s band and because the way Luke feels about him is way too
intense not to be dangerous. The idea of just telling Michael how he feels, it
all sounds so simple when his mum says it. Luke wishes so much it could be.

“Do you think it’s possible we’ve been in love with each other for years and I
never knew it?” he asks Calum, hours later when it’s just the two of them on
Calum’s bed.

“Maybe,” Calum says quietly.

“Why was I so blind to all of this? I mean, if Michael knew, and you knew, and
my freakin’ mum knew, where the hell was I?”

“Maybe you did know. Maybe it was just too scary to consider.”

Luke slumps down against the headboard, mirroring Calum’s position, and resting
his head on Calum’s shoulder. “Is it gonna be weird if I’m gay?” he asks, a
little waver of nerves and discomfort in his voice.

“No.” Calum rubs his thigh. “Are you?”

Luke shrugs and feels pathetic. “Not sure yet.”

“That’s okay too, you know. You don’t have to decide anything about yourself
just because Michael’s already got it all figured.”

He pulls his arm out from under Luke and wraps it around his shoulders, and
Luke curls into him gratefully.

*           *           *

Michael can’t remember the last time he watched the sun rise. He might never
have done it. He’s seen it set plenty of times, but this early in the morning,
he’s either still sleeping, or just crashing into bed, too exhausted to pay any
attention to the colors the sky turns. He watches it now, alone in a lounge
chair next to the pool, with a beanie pulled over his unwashed hair and a
blanket tugged around his shoulders because it’s chilly out before the sun
comes up. The light cover of clouds goes pink and orange and then purple, and
it’s prettier than Michael would have guessed. Or maybe he’s just getting
sappy.

The screen door opens behind him, and Michael turns, surprised. He wasn’t
expecting anyone else to be up for at least a few hours. They’re doing a radio
show today, but not until later. It’s Ashton, in shorts and an old sweater,
with bed-head and two mugs in his hands. He struggles to close the door with
his ass, and Michael chuckles at him.

“You could help,” Ashton points out.

“I’m comfy.”

Ashton does get the door closed, and then he walks over and hands one of the
mugs to Michael. He takes it and groans his appreciation. Coffee has maybe
never smelled so good. Then Ashton gets another chair and drags it over,
setting it up next to Michael’s and curling up in it.

“What’re you doing up so early?” Michael asks.

Ashton giggles. “Dude, that’s like … a whale asking a dolphin why he’s so big.
I don’t think you’ve ever been up this early in your life.”

Michael smiles and takes a sip from the mug Ashton brought him. The warm,
bitter liquid slips down his throat and warms him up inside. “Couldn’t sleep, I
guess. Gave up trying eventually.”

Ashton nods. “You … uh. Wanna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“The reason you’re not sleeping.”

“Maybe I need to exercise more.”

Ashton elbows him gently. “C’mon. For real.”

“Why do you want me to talk about it?” Michael swallows over a lump growing in
his throat.

“Because I was a really shitty friend last time, when you tried to.” Ashton
sighs and stares out into the sky, where the sun is peeking half over the
horizon and now turning the sky around it a dark navy.

“You already apologized for that.”

“I still wanna make it up to you. I wanna listen this time.”

Michael presses his lips together and stares into the light brown liquid in the
mug he’s holding between his hands. “Not sure what there is to say. Things are
fucked up, but I don’t know what to do about it.”

“You really love him, huh?” Ashton asks gently, sympathetically, and it
unhinges something in Michael.

“Yeah,” he breathes, his eyes burning. “So fucking much, Ash. What m’I supposed
do?”

There’s a soft clink that sounds like Ashton setting his mug on the ground, and
then he takes the one from Michael’s hands and does the same. He scooches his
chair closer so it’s against Michaels, and wraps his arm around Michael’s
shoulders. He pulls Michael into his arms, and Michael goes, unable to help
himself. He leans into Ashton’s chest, his head on Ashton’s shoulder, and slams
his eyes shut to keep the tears inside.

“I’m sorry,” Ashton murmurs, resting his chin on the top of Michael’s head and
hugging him tight. “This must suck so bad.”

“I ruined everything,” Michael mumbles. “Not just me and Luke. You guys too.
Everything’s all weird now, like you said.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“But it’s the truth. What if we can’t get past this? What if we have to break
up because of this and it’s all my fault?”

“Nobody’s breaking up,” Ashton promises. “You really think you can get rid of
us that easy?”

“It’s not easy,” Michael argues. “This is a big deal. Better bands than us have
broken up over less.”

“If they did, it’s their own fault for not caring enough to fight.” Ashton
squeezes him a little, like an extra hug inside a hug. “Everything we’ve been
through together? All the damn mountains we had to climb to get where we are?
It would take a lot more than this to make us fall apart. You guys are my
family. I’ll cling to you like a friggin’ starfish if I have to. No one’s going
anywhere.”

Michael laughs in spite of himself, and Ashton does too. “Do starfish cling
hard?”

“I don’t know. Or whatever. Something that latches on and never lets go.”

“Herpes?” Michael suggests, and Ashton dissolves into giggles.

“Yes. Perfect. I’ll cling to you like Herpes.”

“We gotta turn that into a song.”

“Ewwww. Worst love song ever.” Ashton tugs at the blanket around Michael’s
shoulders. “Gimme some of this. It’s cold out here.”

Michael leans forward enough to dislodge the blanket from behind his back and
drapes it over both of them, and then settles back against Ashton’s chest. They
watch together as the sun gets higher and slowly bathes everything in low
morning light, Ashton absently drawing circles on Michael’s arm with his
fingers. Michael doesn’t usually cuddle one-on-one with anyone but Luke, but
it’s nice. It’s different. With Luke it’s always cozy and familiar, like
sinking into his bed at home in Sydney. With Ashton it’s just quiet and nice
but in a pleasantly surprising way – maybe because they don’t do it often. It
makes him feel just a little better to know Ashton isn’t mad at him – that he’d
be willing to fight to keep the band together, if it came to that. Even though
he really hopes it won’t.

*           *           *

It takes a few days for the right circumstances to arise – for Luke to find a
moment when Calum and Ashton are together, but far enough away from Michael so
he can talk to them. Finally it happens; Ashton and Calum head outside in
swimsuits and Michael goes to the bedroom with his laptop because he loves
video games and sorta hates the sun like some sort of nerd-vampire crossover
and Luke finds it a whole lot cuter than he’d ever be willing to admit. He
waits until the bedroom door is closed and he can hear Michael chatting into
the headset, and then he follows the others out to the backyard.

Calum and Ashton are in the hot tub, and Luke pulls a chair up next to it,
because the threat of a blush is already crawling up his neck at the thought of
telling them what he’s about to tell them and he doesn’t need boiling water
adding to his rising temperature.

“Couldn’t convince Michael to join us?” Calum asks.

Luke shrugs. “I didn’t try. Not like it would have done any good.”

Ashton chuckles fondly. “He fails at being Australian. Even though this is only
a man-made beach.”

Luke laughs. He tips his head back to watch the clouds, turned orange in the
setting sun, and mostly tunes out whatever the others are talking about for a
few minutes. Then, when there’s a lull in their conversation, Luke lifts his
head back up and clears his throat. “Can I talk to you guys about something?”

Calum flicks water in the direction of Luke’s bare foot. “Isn’t that what we’re
doing?”

“Something else.”

“Sounds serious.” Ashton raises an eyebrow at him, and waits.

“If … um.” Luke still wishes he could just be confident about all this. He’s
getting better, the notion of talking to them about it at all is improvement,
but he’s still not quite there yet. “If Michael and I did become … something.
What would you guys … I don’t know. What would you think? Would that be okay?”

Ashton frowns and exchanges a look with Calum. “Do you like him? I thought …”

Luke wants to run away from the question like he’s been doing for weeks, but he
doesn’t. He finds whatever courage he does have, and answers, “Yeah. I do.”

He watches his friends’ faces as they process the information. Only Ashton
looks surprised – because Luke more-or-less told Calum the other day – and they
both look like they’re trying to wrap their heads around all the what ifs that
Luke’s been fighting with.

“Why are you … I mean, if you guys wanna be together, you don’t really need our
permission,” Calum points out. “I know we said all that stuff, but at the end
of the day it’s your decision.”

“It’s not about permission,” Luke says. “It’s that I know this would affect you
guys too. It isn’t just me and him. We’re a group, so it’s all of us. I wanna
know what you think. For real.”

“You guys aren’t gonna be all gross and romantic all the time now, are you?”
Ashton asks, with a wrinkled nose.

Luke smiles a little. “I doubt it.”

“It would just suck if this … I don’t know, changed things. Like, how we are
with each other.” Ashton runs a wet hand over his curls and looks apologetic.

“Like how we’re kinda four-way married?” Luke suggests, and Ashton laughs.

“Yeah. That. I really like that. I don’t want it messed up.”

“It’s the last thing I wanna do, honestly,” Luke promises. “I love our thing. I
don’t want it to be different.”

“Okay. So we just won’t let it be different,” Ashton decides with a shrug, like
it’s as easy as that. Luke hopes he’s right.

“But what about, like …” He blushes and drops his eyes down to his knees. He
really wishes he didn’t have to bring this up, but it’s going to come up in the
future anyway so he might as well just get it out now. “Like when we’re doing,
‘yknow. Stuff. Isn’t that gonna be weird? For all of us? That you two will know
and we’ll knowyou know?”

Neither answer for a moment, and when Luke chances a look back up, they’re both
grinning at him like idiots.

“Aww,” Ashton coos. “So cute when he tries to talk about grown-up things.”

“Shut up,” Luke mumbles, blushing deeper. He’s sure he’s bright red, and it’s
not making things better.

They crack up, so Luke can laugh a little too, at his own expense. He can’t
help that he’s not quite comfortable talking about sex yet, even with his
friends.

“It’ll be … I don’t know. An adjustment I guess. I feel like we can probably
get past it.” Ashton shrugs again.

“What does Michael think?” Calum asks.

“I haven’t talked to him yet,” Luke says. “I wanted to talk to you guys first.
‘Cause I mean it, if you have a problem with this, we won’t do it. The band
comes first.”

“So he’s in there right now still thinking you don’t like him back?”

“I guess so, yeah.”

Calum’s eyes widen. “Dude! Go! Go right now! What the hell are you waiting
for?”

Luke is slightly taken aback. “You – really?”

“There’s some things we’re gonna have to figure out. But yeah, we can do that.
Seriously, go. He’s been moping around here for two weeks because he thinks
you’ll never love him back, it’s been pitiful. Go tell him he’s wrong before I
do it for you.” Calum holds up a hand when Luke doesn’t immediately jump out of
his chair. “I’m gonna splash you if you don’t.”

That does make Luke jump up, and just in time because Ashton decides to splash
him anyway and Luke moves just quickly enough to avoid it.

*           *           *
***** Chapter 4 *****
There’s a soft knock on the door and then it opens, and Luke pokes his head in.

“Hey.”

Michael shoots him a quick smile and returns the greeting while trying to keep
concentrating on not losing as terribly as he is. It doesn’t really work. Luke
is distracting these days even when he’s not trying to be. It’s his ocean-blue
eyes and all that ridiculous hair and his cute, shy little smile and how he
manages to look like sex on two legs in the same kind of clothes that make
Michael look like a delinquent. It’s just him, and it’s colossally unfair that
Michael has to be this close to him all the time and can’t have him. He’s
starting to turn bitter about it.

“How long till you’re done?”

“Like any second,” Michael answers, rolling his eyes a little. “We’re getting
destroyed.”

“Kay.” Luke enters the room and closes the door behind him, and climbs onto the
bed. He sits cross-legged, folding his hands in his lap, and Michael can smell
him.

“Seriously?” a voice asks, annoyed, through the headset as Michael makes a
series of rookie mistakes because he can’t get Luke out of his head.

“Sorry, fuck,” he mutters. “I’m done, guys. Sorry.”

“You’re leaving?” another voice asks.

“We’re gonna lose anyway,” Michael points out, and he doesn’t stick around to
hear how mad they are. He just takes the headset off and shuts his laptop.

He turns to Luke, who’s fiddling with his hands and watching him
apprehensively. “You didn’t need to do that. I would’ve waited.”

“It’s a game. It doesn’t matter. What’s up?”

“Um.” Luke presses his lips together, and then chews at his lip-ring. He looks
nervous, and it’s hotter than it has any right to be. “Could we go for a walk?”

Michael frowns. “I … okay. Why?”

“Just wanna talk. About some stuff. Without anyone else barging in.”

Now Michael is apprehensive. He nods and follows Luke out of the house, but his
stomach is churning and his mind is running through all sorts of terrible
possibilities. They range from Luke having been diagnosed with some kind of
terminal illness, to Luke planning on starting to date a girl he met some time
in the last few weeks while Michael’s been avoiding him. He’s sort of not sure
which one would be worse.

So far, their neighbors have been cool about not plastering their address all
over the internet so the chances of running into a mob of screaming girls is
slim, but they avoid busier streets all the same, preferring to stay in their
own suburb. Luke doesn’t talk for a while, and Michael feels sicker by the
moment but he waits for Luke to speak first. If Michael starts talking himself,
crazy things might start pouring out of his mouth and he might not be able to
stop.

“So, um.” Luke begins eventually. “I don’t really know how to say this without
sound like an idiot, so I’m just gonna say it and sound like an idiot.”

“Oh, God,” slips from between Michael’s lips, completely beyond his control.
This is it, he can feel it. Luke is going to say it’s gotten too uncomfortable
to be around Michael, knowing how he feels, what he wants. He’s going to say he
can’t do it anymore. In about five seconds those words are going to be spoken
and Michael will have officially ruined everything.

Luke looks at him. Then he frowns and shakes his head. “No. It’s … it’s good.
At least, I think it is.”

Michael’s confused again, and he really needs Luke to just spit it out because
the waiting is killing him.

“I … uh.” Luke looks flustered. He tries again, but can’t seem to get the words
out. Instead, he takes Michael’s hand, in a way that feels almost … romantic.
Michael can’t breathe. “C’mere,” Luke says, leading Michael off the street and
into a back alleyway.

He puts Michael against the wall, and then sort of leans into him, and Michael
doesn’t know what’s happening for just a second but then Luke’s lips touch his
and everything spins so quickly out of control it feels like being shoved off a
cliff. Luke’s mouth is as soft as Michael remembers, but tentative this time,
like he’s afraid Michael isn’t going to kiss back. As if Michael could help
himself. He wraps his arms around Luke’s waist and pulls him in closer without
thinking about it, deepening the kiss. He can’t believe this is really
happening, can’t wrap his head around why or how, but he just goes with it
because Luke is back in his arms, kissing him, nudging a foot between Michael’s
to get closer, and Michael’s so happy he wants to cry and scream and run around
in circles.

Luke’s lips fall away from Michael’s eventually, with a soft, breathy, nervous
laugh that might be the most beautiful sound Michael’s ever heard. He blinks a
few times before he can get his hazy vision to focus on Luke’s face. His eyes
are bright and his cheeks are flushed and his lips are shiny with Michael’s
saliva.

“Hi,” he whispers, like he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Hey,” Michael answers, reaching up slowly and tracing his thumb over the
moisture on Luke’s bottom lip.

“Hi or hey,” Luke jokes awkwardly, and the giggle that erupts from Michael’s
throat is entirely unmanly and he doesn’t care.

“You’re such a dork.”

“You love me.”

“Yeah,” Michael admits. “I do.”

“I do too. Love you, I mean. Not me,” Luke says softly, conspiratorially, like
it’s a secret he only feels safe revealing into the space between their bodies.

Michael blinks at him, his stomach doing flip-flips over itself. “Really?” he
asks, and doesn’t at all manage to be cool about it. He almost doesn’t dare to
believe it, just in case. It would ruin him to think he’s getting Luke and then
have it taken away again.

Luke nods. He slides his fingers through Michael’s hair, trailing them down the
back of Michael’s head and then letting his hand settle curled around the back
of Michael’s neck. He squeezes gently, and tips his own head forward so his
forehead is resting against Michael’s.

“What about … everything?” Michael asks. “The guys, the band. All that stuff.”

“I don’t know. I don’t have a plan, I don’t … all I know is how I feel,” Luke
murmurs. “There’s some stuff we’ll have to deal with. Maybe some stuff we
haven’t even thought of. But I just … I’m done pretending I don’t love you. I
do, so. The only thing I was doing is hurting both of us.”

Michael shakes his head slowly, forehead rubbing against Luke’s, and wants to
pinch himself to make sure this is really happening.

Luke lets his lips drag against Michael’s, almost another kiss, and then adds,
“I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out. I’m sorry you had to feel …
alone.”

“It sucked,” Michael says honestly, and Luke winces, and then he feels bad.
“No, I mean … it’s okay. It wasn’t fun, but I understand.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Luke kisses him again, gentle and apologetic, and Michael melts into it. He
forgets that they’re hiding in an alley next to a dumpster, he forgets that
this is going to be complicated because of what they do. He forgets everything
that isn’t the feeling of Luke’s tongue asking for entrance to his mouth,
Luke’s whole body pressing into his, Luke’s dick starting to harden against
Michael’s hip.

Michael laughs breathlessly. “I can’t believe this is real. Wish I could touch
you.”

“You are touching me.”

“I mean this.” He pushes his thigh forward into Luke’s crotch to illustrate his
meaning.

“Oh.” Luke blushes and takes a shuddery breath, like he’s halfway between
embarrassed and aroused, and it makes Michael’s head spin. “Wanna, um, go back?
Do … something?”

Michael quirks an eyebrow and asks, “Like what?” just to watch Luke’s cute,
flustered face.

“I don’t know. What do you want?”

“Anything. Everything,” Michael answers honestly. It almost scares him, how
much he means it. “Every single thing there is.”

“Me too.”

*           *           *

Luke understands why they can’t, but he wishes Michael could hold his hand as
they walk. It would’ve calmed his racing heart a little; just some contact, to
know Michael’s there with him. He wants Michael so damn much, all of him, every
piece of him, but that doesn’t stop Luke from being nervous about it. Not about
whatever they’re going to do, but about crossing that line into something more.
They won’t be able to take it back this time, to pretend that it was a mistake.
Luke doesn’t want to do either of those things, but it still feels … important.
It feels bigger than the two of them.

The house is dark and empty when they get back to it. Luke wonders where their
friends went for a moment, but then notices the note on the table. He picks it
up and reads Have fun boys! in Calum’s handwriting. Don’t do anything we
wouldn’t do is crossed out, and Ashton’s messy scrawl corrects, Do lots and
lots of things we wouldn’t do. We wouldn’t do any of the things you’re about to
do.Calum answers, Says you. and adds a crude drawing of a dick.

Luke chuckles, and shows the note to Michael.

“Well Calum wants a gang-bang,” Michael says, with a laugh.

Luke laughs too. He drops the piece of paper back down onto the table, and
exhales shakily. They have the house to themselves, and he wants so many things
with Michael that he doesn’t even know where to start. He wants it all, and he
wants it all way too much.

“Are you okay?” Michael asks softly.

Luke nods, but probably doesn’t come off convincing.

Michael moves into him, wraps his arms around Luke and pulls him in close. Luke
leans against him, resting his head on Michael’s shoulder, and even though he’s
taller, he feels small in Michael’s arms.

“What’s wrong?” Michael whispers, kissing the side of Luke’s face.

“Nervous,” Luke admits shamefully.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

“No, I … I want it. Want you.”

“I want you too.”

“It just feels big, you know?”

“I know.” Michael pecks another kiss to Luke’s cheek and then nudges his head
up to kiss him properly. He takes Luke’s hand and leads him upstairs, and Luke
follows willingly. He’s completely okay with Michael being in the driver’s seat
right now. He’s had more time to get his head around this than Luke has – if
it’s true, what he said to Ashton, about having feelings for Luke since school.
That thought makes Luke ache inside over how hard it must’ve been for Michael,
and how mad he is at himself for taking so long to figure everything out. Now
that he has, it feels easy. Of course he loves Michael. He doesn’t understand
why he hasn’t known this since the minute they meant.

Michael shuts the door behind them, and looks at Luke, and then laughs a little
and sounds as nervous as Luke is, which makes him feel a little better. He
reaches behind himself to tug his shirt off over his head, and is met with
raised eyebrows from Michael.

“What?” he asks defensively.

“You move quick,” Michael teases.

Luke blushes. “Are we not gonna …?”

Michael steps closer to him and takes the shirt from his hands, tossing it to
the floor. He leans up and presses a kiss to Luke’s lips. “Yeah, we’re gonna.”

He sounds entirely too pleased with himself so Luke shuts him up with another
kiss, wrapping his arms around Michael’s waist and sliding their lips together.
He slips his fingers under Michael’s loose shirt as they kiss, sliding his hand
around to Michael’s stomach, pushing the shirt up with his wrist.

“Off,” he mumbles, and Michael sort of hesitates for half a second but then he
lifts his arms and lets Luke pull the material over his head.

“Can we, um. Turn the lights off?” Michael asks, fidgeting and crossing his
arms over his chest.

Luke frowns. “If you want.”

Michael reaches for the switch, bathing the room in darkness it takes Luke’s
eyes a few blinks to adjust to, and then he pushes Luke back onto the bed
before he starts unzipping his jeans. Luke wriggles out of his pants while
Michael does the same, and then Michael joins him on the bed, nudging Luke back
and lying beside him. He goes for another kiss, but Luke stops him, running his
fingers over Michael’s cheek and searching his eyes.

“What?” Michael asks.

“You don’t like the way you look?” Luke says, his brain finally piecing a bunch
of things together when Michael wanted the lights off. Michael hardly ever
swims with them.

Michael huffs, and then shrugs. “I’m not all sexy like you are,” he answers,
poking Luke in the ribs, making it into a joke.

“You are,” Luke promises him. It’s unfathomable to him that Michael doesn’t
understand. “You’re gorgeous, Mikey. How do you not know that?”

Michael shrugs again and looks uncomfortable.

“I’m gonna keep telling you that until you believe it.”

Michael tries to kiss him again, not wanting to talk about it maybe, and this
time Luke lets him, but he drops the subject only temporarily. Making Michael
understand how beautiful he is just became Luke’s new life goal. They kiss
lazily, desperation growing in a slow, steady burn. Luke is already addicted to
it. He can already tell he’s going to hate whatever parts of the day are not
spent kissing Michael from now on.

“What d’you wanna do?” Michael asks breathlessly, pulling back and looking at
Luke with flushed cheeks and dark eyes.

Luke thinks about it for a second, automatically reaching down between them to
adjust his hard cock in his underwear, not even realizing it’s a sexual action
until he notices Michael is watching.

“Hot,” Michael pronounces, and Luke laughs.

“That I have a boner?”

“Yeah.”

“Doesn’t take much for you, huh?” he jokes.

“Not where you’re concerned, it doesn’t,” Michael says, not joking, and Luke
thinks it’s one of the more romantic things anyone has ever said to him.

He moves his hand forward because he’s curious and they didn’t do this last
time – brushes his fingers gently against the stiff flesh in Michael’s
underwear and then cups it and squeezes. Michael swears under his breath and
rocks into Luke’s hand, and it fills Luke with a dirty, dangerous thrill. He
never thought he’d be here in a million years, and now he’s on a bed with his
best friend and there’s a dick in his hand that isn’t his own, and it’s scary
and exciting and way too many other things for Luke to name. He’s so turned on
it’s hard to see properly.

He bites his lip, unsure again, and then asks, “Can I … um. Suck it?”

Michael’s eyes open, and he looks at Luke like he’s a crazy person. “Are you
asking? Like there’s even a chance I’ll say no?”

Luke chuckles and shrugs. “Didn’t wanna just … y’know. Pounce.”

“For the future? Pouncing is perfectly acceptable.”

Luke laughs again, and Michael laughs with him. He moves, not wanting to give
himself time to chicken out, crawling down the bed while Michael wiggles out of
his underwear. Luke blinks at his hard cock, and it’s just as pretty as the
rest of him, because of course it is, and Luke’s proud of himself that seeing
it doesn’t freak him out. It’s hot, actually. He takes a deep breath and
reaches for it, wrapping his fingers around the shaft and stroking a few times,
experimentally. Michael’s on his elbows, watching, his lips parted slightly.

“Um. I haven’t ever …” Luke mumbles.

“I know.” Michael reaches down and slides his fingers through Luke’s hair.

“So you gotta tell me. If I’m doing it wrong.”

“You won’t.”

“Promise me.”

“Okay. Yeah, okay. I’ll tell you.”

Luke nods. He tries to remember what girls have done to him, annoyed with
himself that he never really paid close attention because of how good it felt.
He leans down and licks tentatively at the head, and then does it again because
Michael makes a breathy noise. Luke draws it into his mouth and sucks, moving
his tongue around because he imagines that’ll feel nice, getting the hang of it
as he goes. Michael grips his hair and moans, and Luke smiles around his
mouthful, pleased with himself. It turns him on way more than he would’ve
thought, making Michael feel good. He repeats whatever he’s just done when
Michael moans, bobbing his head and swallowing, all the noises Michael makes
and the way he grips Luke’s hair shooting straight to Luke’s cock.

“Luke,” Michael mumbles, all broken and pretty about it, and Luke hums and
makes Michael’s hips jerk. “Shit. Just like that, baby.”

He goes for broke, letting saliva dribble down the shaft and wrapping his hand
back around it for the part that won’t fit in his mouth. He stokes and squeezes
and licks at him, and Michael starts pushing at his shoulder, warning. Luke
ignores it. Michael grunts and come lands on Luke’s tongue, and he chokes just
a little but manages to swallow it, and doesn’t hate the way it tastes. He sort
of likes it, even.

“Fuck,” Michael says, as Luke crawls back up to him, dropping down on the
mattress beside him and propping himself up on an elbow. “I think I’m broken.”

Luke laughs and is pleased with himself, even if he thinks maybe Michael is
over-exaggerating a little to make him feel better about his complete lack of
skill. It’s such a Michael thing to do, that Luke decides to think it’s sweet.

“Can I nap for like a million hours before I do you?” Michael asks, and he
sounds like he’s halfway between joking and not.

“I think that’s called a coma.”

Michael lets his hands fall away from his face and smiles. He pulls Luke down
for a kiss, moaning at the taste of himself in Luke’s mouth and licking it out.
Luke’s hips slot against Michael’s and his crotch presses into Michael’s thigh
– he grinds down slowly as they kiss, the pressure sending sparks of arousal
through him. Michael plants a foot on the bed and flips them over, getting up
on his hands and knees over Luke and reaching down to palm his cock through the
cotton of his underwear. Luke shivers, even that little bit of contact making
his stomach flip. Michael kisses him a few more times, soft and brief and
almost innocent, like he’s a kid trying it out and not someone who’s about to
have a dick in his mouth. It kind of sums Michael up in a way that makes Luke’s
chest feel funny – sweet and trusting and affectionate, with just enough of an
edge to him that he always might be on the precipice of doing something
dangerous, even if he rarely does.

Michael tugs at Luke’s underwear, and Luke reaches down and helps get them off,
grimacing a little at the sound his cock makes when it slaps against his belly.
It sounds filthy, like porn, and it feels wrong for this moment.

Michael ducks his head and licks over Luke’s nipples slowly, one at a time, and
then makes his way down Luke’s chest, leaving little kisses as he goes. Every
place his lips touch feels hot and damp, and then cold when he’s gone. He
doesn’t go right for Luke’s cock, instead he nibbles at Luke’s hipbones and
squeezes Luke’s balls in his hand. He rubs his middle finger into the spot
behind them in a way that feels really fucking good, and Luke doesn’t know why
he’s never experimented more with himself. There’s probably a whole world of
things that feel fantastic, and he doesn’t know anything about them.

By the time Michael gets to his erection Luke is already panting, but even then
Michael doesn’t suck it straightaway. He licks at the shaft, generous laves of
his tongue and little back-and-forth flicks that make Luke hot and squirmy
inside.

“Michael,” he breathes; not wanting anything, just needing to say something.

Michael smiles and kisses the head of Luke’s cock, and then finally picks it up
and takes it into his mouth, sliding down slowly so Luke sinks inside inch by
inch, surrounded by warm and wet. He bobs his head so fucking slowly, his
tongue moving and his cheeks hollowing and Luke hears himself moan, because it
feels so damn amazing and it’s such a waste that they haven’t been doing this
since school. Michael’s good at it. He seems to know what he’s doing, he isn’t
fumbly and unsure like Luke was. The thought strikes a funny chord inside Luke,
somewhere beneath the pleasure, and he realizes that Michael probably doesknow
what he’s doing.

Michael pauses, and then lifts his head up and looks at Luke. “What?”

“What what?”

“You just went all tense. What’s wrong?”

Luke rolls his eyes at himself. He’s the only person on the planet who could
ruin a fantastic blowjob by thinking too hard about it. “You’ve … um. Done this
before.”

Michael frowns at him. “Did you not know that?”

“I guess I thought maybe you had. Didn’t know for sure. You never said.”

Michael crawls back up so he’s face to face with Luke and settles down on him,
their hips aligning again. He kisses the corner of Luke’s mouth. “I guess … I
wasn’t sure you guys would wanna hear about it.”

That makes Luke sad, a little, to think Michael was keeping certain details of
his life to himself because he wasn’t sure his band-mates would be okay with
him liking boys.

“Are you jealous?” Michael asks.

“Yes,” Luke admits. He closes his eyes and holds Michael’s face in his hands.
“I wanna be the only dick you ever do anything with.”

Michael chuckles, low and rumbling. “You will be. From now on.”

“Okay.” It doesn’t really make Luke feel better, but maybe he’s just stupid.

“I’ve never fucked a guy,” Michael tells him.

“You can fuck me,” Luke says automatically, not even thinking about it. Then a
wave of arousal mixed with fear travels up his spine at the idea of following
through with it.

For a moment, Michael doesn’t say anything. Like maybe he’s waiting for Luke to
take it back. “Have you ever? With a girl?”

Luke shakes his head, and feels like he’s so far behind Michael. Behind
everyone, probably. Aleisha never let him, and then they’ve been doing band
stuff for so many years, Luke’s just never had the chance. “Other stuff. Just
not that.”

Like he can sense Luke’s embarrassment, Michael kisses him, soft and sweet, and
says, “I like that. It makes you all mine.”

“Have you, um. Ever been …?” Luke asks, hoping Michael will know what he means.

Michael shakes his head. “You wanna be my first?”

It’s something Luke hadn’t even thought about, but now that Michael says it,
yeah, he really wants that. It makes him shiver with how much he wants it.
“Shit. Yeah. A lot.”

Michael laughs again. “Good. We’ve got stuff to work up to, then. Can I finish
sucking your cock now?”

“Yeah.”

Michael kisses him one more time, and then goes back down and restarts, sucking
and swallowing and humming around Luke’s cock.

“Fuck, Michael,” spills from Luke’s mouth, and Michael just hums again and it
vibrates through him, sends sparks of pleasure up and down his spine like bolts
of lightening. He forces his heavy head to lift because he wants to see it, but
then he can barely look because Michael is so hot, his eyes closed like he’s
enjoying it as much as Luke is, cheeks stained pink and bright red lips wrapped
around Luke’s cock as it disappears in and out of his mouth.

Luke reaches down with a shaky hand to pet through Michael’s soft hair, and
Michael opens his eyes and looks up and winks at Luke, filthy and playful, and
Luke is so done. His eyes slam shut and his gut clenches and he comes into
Michael’s mouth so hard he forgets how to breathe for a minute.

Michael coughs ones or twice, and then laughs and flicks the inside of Luke’s
thigh. “Warn a guy.”

“Sorry,” Luke groans, covering his face with his hands, feeling shitty and
feeling like an idiot for being so bad at this. “Fuck, Michael, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Luke turns his best puppy-eyes to Michael because he still feels bad, and
Michael pulls him, weak and pliant, into his arms. Luke nuzzles him and clings,
always needy for contact and affection from everyone but mostly from Michael,
and Michael gives him all the attention he wants. He always has.

“What now?” Michael asks, his face so close to Luke’s that he can’t focus on
it.

“Can I hold your hand?” Luke asks, wishing he didn’t sound so childish.

“Uh. Sure. Why?”

Luke shrugs and tries not to be embarrassed. “‘Cause we never have, really.”

“We’ve held hands lots of time. There are pictures of it,” Michael reminds him.

“I know, but not … like this. This is different.”

“Okay.” Michael doesn’t sound like he really understands, but he takes Luke’s
hand and threads their fingers together.

Luke squeezes it, testing out the feel of it, and then slowly rubs his thumb
over Michael’s knuckles. He brings their joined hands to his mouth, kisses the
back of Michael’s, and then lets them rest on the pillow between their throats.

Michael has a funny, fond smile on his face. “I didn’t know you’d be …
romantic. I should have known, I guess.”

“You got a problem with it?” Luke asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope.”

“Good.”

“I love you,” Michael whispers against his lips. “Just, you know. In case you
forgot.”

“I didn’t,” Luke whispers back.

*           *           *

Something soft tickles Luke’s face. He opens his eyes slowly and realizes it’s
Michael’s hair, and everything comes back to him. Michael is cuddled up against
him, his head tucked under Luke’s chin, and it makes Luke smile. He squeezes
Michael and then stretches, as Michael blearily mumbles something murderous
about how early in the morning it is.

“How do you know what time it is?” Luke asks, grinning. “It could be three.”

“Too many words, Hemmings,” Michael grumbles.

“Oh, so now I’m Hemmings?” Luke jokes. “Last night I was baby.”

“Last night you were sucking my cock,” Michael points out. “So far this morning
all you’ve done is wake me up too early.”

Luke chuckles and pushes his nose through Michael’s hair.

The door flies open, smashing into the opposite wall and startling them both.
Calum and Ashton are standing in the doorway with comically raised eyebrows and
huge, annoying smiles on their faces.

“What the fuck?” Luke asks, grabbing for the sheet around his waist to cover
them up. It’s not like they haven’t caught gratuitous eyefuls of each other
before, but this feels different.

“Damn, I thought we’d catch you naked,” Ashton says. Really, really loudly.

“We are, dumbass,” Michael mutters. Luke is stuck halfway between mortified
that Calum and Ashton are here while he’s lying nude in bed with Michael, in
the sheets they stained last night, and amused at Michael because he’s such a
grump in the mornings and it’s cute.

“Well point those dicks at each other, because we’re coming in!” Calum
announces, and then they both descend on Luke and Michael, bounding onto the
bed with them and framing them like bookends, Ashton behind Luke and Calum
behind Michael.

“This is an entirely new level of familiar. Even for us,” Michael says flatly,
but keeps right on snuggling Luke like maybe he doesn’t care as much as he’d
like them to believe he does.

“Why do I feel like we just jumped into a honeymoon bed?” Ashton asks,
giggling.

“Because duh,” Michael answers rudely.

“And you didn’t even put a ring on it first, Michael,” Ashton chides jokingly.

“Hey, why am I the wife?” Luke protests.

“Because duh,” Michael repeats. At least he’s grumping everyone.

“Who bottomed?” Calum asks, his eyes crinkled in a cheeky smile directed right
at Luke, like he knows exactly how much that’s going to make him squirm.

Luke groans in embarrassment at the brashness of the question and burrows down
under the blankets, hiding his face in Michael’s chest.

“No one. We didn’t fuck,” Michael answers, so much more confident about,
really, everything. Luke is jealous of him. Also, it smells really good,
pressed against Michael’s skin. Like sweat and sex and them. He taps his
fingers against Michael’s ribs and Michael gets the message, wrapping his arms
around Luke’s back and keeping him safe from their friends.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because I don’t put out on the first date. Or because fuck you. Take your
pick.”

“So you’dbe the one putting out,” Ashton surmises, and Michael reaches over and
punches him on the arm, a little too hard to be completely joking about it.

“You’re awfully cantankerous for someone who got laid last night,” Calum
observes. “Is Lukey no good in bed?”

“Stop,” Luke whines. He feels like he’s still only just wrapped his head around
the idea of being with a boy, with his best friend. He’s not ready for talk
like this.

“He’s fantastic in bed,” Michael says. “You guys should be very, very jealous.
And you should also shut up about it.”

Having his honor defended makes Luke feel just a little bit better.

“Fine,” Ashton sighs, pretending to be exasperated. “You’re no fun. But fine.
No sexy-talk. Just cuddles.”

He moves in closer, spooning against Luke’s back and slipping an arm around his
middle, and Luke’s glad there’s a sheet in between them because otherwise
Ashton would be pressed up against his bare ass, and they don’t have a ton of
boundaries as a group but that feels like it should be a line that doesn’t get
crossed. The mattress shifts as Calum probably does the same behind Michael,
the two of them hugging Luke and Michael together like some sort of two-headed
beast. It occurs to Luke that they’re sort of a four-headed beast, and he
doesn’t hate the idea.

“You can come up now,” Michael tells Luke, and Luke listens to him, wiggling
back up so his head is on the pillow next to Michael’s. Michael shakes his head
a little, conveying with his eyes a message along the lines of our friends are
morons but I love them.

Luke smiles back at him, and kisses the tip of his nose. Michael has a really
cute nose.

“What time do we have to be at the studio?” Calum asks.

“Ten, I think,” Ashton answers, eliciting another groan from Michael.

“It’s not even ten? You guys are monsters.” He turns his face into the pillow
and Luke pets his cheek sympathetically.

“If it was after ten we’d be late. You should be thanking us,” Calum points
out.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

It’s dripping in sarcasm and Luke can’t help but laugh.

“You’re the one who made a band with us, dude.” Ashton nuzzles into the back of
Luke’s neck as he talks, and his nose is cold.

“You’re right. This is my fault.”

“What should we do until then?” Ashton asks.

“This,” Calum replies. “Band cuddle.”

Luke wants to point out it’s not exactly the same as when they usually do it
since he and Michael are naked and covered in the remnants of what they did
last night, but he stays silent. Underneath his lingering embarrassment is
happiness, real and bright and wonderful. He’s got the person he loves against
him and their best friends wrapped around them, and it’s weird and
inappropriate probably but it’s also kind of perfect. Maybe it wouldn’t work
for anyone else, but it works for them.

“Love you,” he whispers to Michael, hoping it’s soft enough that only Michael
will hear it, and then not sure why he thought that would actually work since
Calum and Ashton both have ears within a foot of Luke’s mouth.

“You said you weren’t gonna be gross,” Ashton complains.

“Tell him to stop being so lovable, then,” Luke says, the words meant for
Ashton but still looking at Michael.

Michael kinda smiles and rolls his eyes at the same time. “Dork.”

Luke sticks his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout.

“Fine, I love you too,” Michael sighs, pretending to be annoyed about it.

“And no one loves me,” Calum says dramatically.

“No one,” Michael agrees, at the same time as Luke says, “I do.”

Calum snorts. “Guess I know who my new best friend is.”

“I thought I was your best friend!” Ashton cries indignantly.

“Okay, everybody be quiet,” Luke instructs. “Michael is trying to sleep.”

Calum and Ashton both grumble about it but they settle and then fall silent.
Michael closes his eyes and snuggles just a little bit closer to Luke. It makes
him smile.
*           *           *
 
thank you for reading!
End Notes
     You're the only person who reminds me
     Love is beautiful and true, life is beautiful
     And you, you're the only person who reminds me
     Hold on now, don't you blink or it's gone
     I've been terrified of life for way too long
     Oh no now, don't you blink or it's gone
     In another life who knows what we'd become?
     "Don't Blink" - Relient K (2013)
      
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