Chapter Text
“Holy shit, Michael, your hair!” Calum exclaimed, throwing his arms around Michael’s neck.
Michael beamed, hugging Calum back. He’d dyed it the night after Luke slept over, and it had finally, after a couple showers, dried in a way he liked it. He thought it was very fitting considering the day it was. “Thanks!”
“Yeah,” Ashton agreed, setting down the bag he was holding. “It’s subtle. But, like, in a good way. If you get what I mean.” He looked down at Michael’s outfit quickly–black denim jacket, band tee (Pierce The Veil), and skinny jeans–and nodded. “And you look good.”
“Thanks, Ash,” Michael let go of Calum, stepping back and ruffling his fringe a bit. “Luke said something like that about my hair, actually. Didn’t expect the colour to be so light.”
“I think it’s perfect for your birthday,” Calum grinned, “happy twenty-first, by the way.”
“Tomorrow,” Michael pointed out, raising a finger.
Calum shrugged, stepping back from Michael. “Close enough. Why couldn’t you do this on your birthday?”
“Luke can’t come tomorrow. Don’t know why. But he wanted to come, I think, so yeah.” Michael looked around. Where was Luke?
“And, uh, where’s Luke?” Ashton asked, echoing Michael’s thoughts perfectly.
“Yeah, I just noticed. I don’t know. I’m giving him time, I guess,” Michael replied, his gaze flickering down to the bag.
Calum side-stepped in front of it, frowning. “Damn. I kinda wanted to meet Awsten.”
Michael paused, looking back up at Calum. Shit. He did tell them about Luke and Awsten before this whole ordeal. “...About that. You’ll still meet him, I think, but I had to invite them separately.”
Ashton narrowed his eyes. “What? Did something happen?”
Michael raised his hands in defense. “Okay, that’s not my story to tell. But right now, ‘Lukesten’ isn’t a thing.” He made air quotes.
“Really?” Calum looked mournful.
“‘Lukesten?’” Ashton echoed quietly, pulling a confused expression.
Michael sighed, fighting back a smile. “Um. That’s a whole ‘nother thing. Whatever.”
“Yeah!” Calum said enthusiastically, smiling blindingly brightly. “It’s your day! All yours!”
Ashton blinked, shaking the look off his face and flashing two thumbs up along with an equally bright grin.
They were right. Michael had tried to make this day his as much as he could, treating himself with the money his parents sent and organizing this small party–if you could call it that, it was kinda just a gathering of Michael’s friends and their friends in a small pavilion just off campus–and he felt happy. Mostly.
He was gonna be twenty one tomorrow. Still living off his parents’ money and anything the college provided for him.
He really didn’t even expect to make it this far.
Here’s to another year, though.
▪︎
Luke still hadn’t shown up. Michael might be exaggerating, but 7 minutes is a bit too late for someone like Luke. Luke tended to either get ready an hour before he really had to leave, or get ready inhumanly fast at the last minute. The point is, Luke is never late.
At least Awsten was fashionably late. He’d come sprinting over and nearly tackled Michael into the grass and excitedly wished him happy birthday and offered a vinyl or CD on the house the next time they saw each other at the record store. Michael thought that was sweet, but he refused at first. And Awsten persisted. And since Michael was fairly weak to literally any argument, he thanked Awsten and begrudgingly agreed.
And Michael noticed Awsten’s new hair, and Awsten vice versa.
And Calum and Ashton had taken a liking to Geoff and Otto. Michael vaguely remembered them as Awsten’s best friends, and given the way he talked about them, they appeared to be dating as well. That’s nice. Michael’s best friends who are dating are getting along with Awsten’s, who are dating. Very poetic.
“And,” Michael said, getting Awsten’s attention, “Calum said he wanted to meet you as well,” he pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Calum, who was talking to Otto.
“Oh!” Awsten grinned, turning to where his bandmates were standing. “I’ll see you after, then? And happy birthday, man.”
“Yeah, thanks, Awsten.” Michael smiled back. “Still waiting on Luke.”
Awsten completely paused. His grin fell off his face quickly, and he turned back to face Michael. “You invited Luke?” He asked, as if it wasn’t obvious Michael would invite his best friend.
“Um…” Michael squinted at Awsten. “Yeah. Because he’s my best friend?”
Awsten nodded slowly. “Right. I just don’t… about…”
“You don’t have to talk to him, Jesus Christ. This is my birthday party, not sleepover confessions.” Michael crossed his arms.
“Right,” Awsten said again, shifting his weight. “I’ll… go… meet Calum now.”
Awsten spun on his heel, slinking over to his best friends, not really talking to Calum like he said he would. Calum never ended up addressing him anyway, so maybe he forgot. Whatever. Less human interaction. Awsten wouldn’t argue with that.
▪︎
Luke finally came sprinting over only a bit after Michael let Awsten go with his friends. Michael was pouring himself a cup of flavoured iced tea, vaguely zoning out and thinking about what he would do when he got back to his room.
And then finally, Luke jogged around the corner and halted in front of Michael, leaning on a picnic table to catch his breath. “Sorry,” he said, slightly shakily as he struggled to pull in a full breath. “I don’t– don’t exactly know what happened earlier, I’m sorry I’m late on your birthday, Michael–”
“Luke, holy shit, breathe,” Michael grinned, just glad to see his best friend. Who looked incredible, by the way. Luke was wearing a dress shirt under a T-shirt (which was an outfit Michael saw practically never on Luke) and very subtle golden-purple makeup (which was also a never. No matter how much Michael recommended trying a different colour, Luke always gravitated back to blue. Michael didn’t blame him. Luke knew blue was his colour).
“Sorry,” Luke said again, brushing his curls out of his face and standing up straighter, looking Michael in the eye. “Twenty one, mate,” he breathed, smiling on one side, “how’s it feeling?”
“Not much different,” Michael said half-honestly, taking a sip of his drink and setting it down beside him. “I tell you every year that it never feels different until you realize another year has gone by.”
Luke hummed. “And I get that all too well,” he glanced down, then back up at Michael, and hopped up onto the table. “Ah, well. Maybe the years were never ours to keep.” He tapped his chin, pausing for a second. “We’re nostalgic for a time that never existed.”
“You’re so poetic, Luke,” Michael said sarcastically, leaning on his arms next to where Luke was sitting.
“I’m a songwriter,” Luke preened, settling back on his hands.
It was Michael’s turn to hum quietly in response. “How is that going, by the way?”
Luke blinked, looking away from the horizon and down at Michael. “Songwriting?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Ah. Well,” Luke made a vague gesture with a hand, searching for the words. “I haven’t done it in ages. I might’ve forgotten how to string anything together. It’s all a mess up here,” he pointed at his temple, then dropped his hand back to his side.
“I like your messes,” Michael said very honestly, gazing up at Luke.
Luke snorted. “Thanks?” He scrunched up his nose, looking questionable.
Michael straightened his back, picking his cup up again. “Of course. You should write something again.” He offered the cup to Luke. Luke took it gingerly, tilting his head at Michael.
“Iced tea,” Michael said, taking the cup back for a second and turning it around in Luke’s hand, “I drank from that side.”
Luke nodded, taking a sip. He licked his lips, hesitating, then said, “it doesn’t work that way.”
“What doesn’t?” Michael asked, taking the cup back when Luke handed it over.
Luke shrugged, leaning back. “I can’t just write something because someone told me to.”
“I didn’t say you had to,” Michael smiled, turning the cup and drinking again. “I’d just like it. I’d love to hear you sing again. Even if it’s just a cover.”
Luke didn’t answer, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, and watching Michael through his eyelashes. “Mike,” he finally said after a moment of silence.
“Hm?”
“I’m really glad we met. I love you.”
Michael stepped forward, putting his drink beside Luke’s thigh and pulling him into a tight hug. “Yeah, man,” he said quietly, “love you too.”
Luke sighed, going soft and wrapping his arms tentatively around Michael’s waist. Michael really missed hugging Luke, even though it was maybe just a couple days. He loved just being close to him.
He thought back to that fleeting theory of having a crush on Luke. It really did feel a lot like how Calum described it. He could quite possibly be in love with his best friend.
But even that didn't make sense. He didn't want to kiss Luke, he didn't want anything beyond even just hugging with Luke.
I've gotta be broken in some way, Michael thought, his thumb rubbing circles into Luke’s shoulder blade.
I'm almost twenty one, he reminded himself saltily. I should've figured it out any minute now.
▪︎
“Luke!” Ashton’s face brightened.
Luke looked at Michael, confused. “The drummer kid?” He barely managed to ask, before Ashton crashed into Luke, swinging him around. Luke yelped, holding onto Ashton’s shoulders for dear life.
“Yeah, Luke, the drummer kid,” Michael laughed, waiting for Ashton to release Luke.
“That is me,” Ash said earnestly, setting Luke back down on the grass steadily. Luke gasped for breath, still leaning on Ashton’s shoulders.
“Oh,” Luke wheezed, “yeah.”
“Sorry,” Ashton grinned awkwardly, looking behind him for Calum. “Um… did Mikey tell you about the whole… uh…”
Calum smiled slyly and made a whole bunch of indiscernible hand movements behind Ash’s shoulder that Michael kinda decoded as “I’m fucking this guy”.
Luke squinted at Calum. “Oh, so you’re the boyfriend,” he scrunched up his nose again, “gross. Congratulations. Both.”
“Cal, the fuck did you do?” Ashton turned around. Calum gave an innocent smile and kissed Ash on the cheek.
“Nothing,” he replied sweetly. Michael saw Luke roll his eyes. “Anyway,” Calum continued, “hi, Luke. Haven’t seen you in ages.”
“And vice versa,” Luke said flatly, not in a mean way at all but more just devoid of emotion.
Michael watched Luke’s face for a couple seconds, before setting a hand on his shoulder and turning to Calum and Ashton, “do you guys want drinks?”
Both guys redirected their attention. “Oh, fuck yeah,” Ashton said, “what do you have?”
Michael thought for a second, then looked over Calum’s shoulder, at where Awsten and the others were sitting. They had drinks already. “Eh, I can check. You wanna come with?”
“Yeah, sure,” said Calum, and Michael started leading them to his cooler he’d packed earlier.
▪︎
“Happy fuckin’ birthday, Mikey,” Ashton cracked open his can, raising it vaguely in Michael’s direction and waving it around slightly.
“Yeah, man,” Calum also raised his cup, offering cheers. Luke nodded in agreement. He’d poured the same iced tea Michael was having.
“Well,” Michael said, holding up his topped up drink. “Here’s to twenty plus one.”
All four clinked their drinks together.
“Here’s to twenty plus one!”