Archive of Our Own

Luke thinks he might drop dead.

That sounds kind of melodramatic, he figures. He’s fine really, but the room they’re waiting in backstage is just slightly too small and slightly too loud. Michael is somewhere to his left tuning his guitar for the acoustic set they’re about to play, and every tinny pluck of the strings leaves Luke’s head spinning slightly. Just a little though, he’s perfectly fine, he’s sure of it.

He has to be. They’re in Sydney this week, playing the one show they always look forward to whenever they’re on the road. The one show when it’s guaranteed that all of their families will be there, the one show that they have to ace, to show their hometown what they’re made of and that they deserve to be doing this. And of course, because he’s Luke and maybe it’s stupid but sometimes he feels like the universe has this sort of personal vendetta out for him, he’s sick. A sick, grouchy, walking, hardly talking train wreck. It’s been coming on for about a week now he supposes, but for the past few days, he’s been a shivery, lethargic mess. His head has been pounding, and his throat feels more like he regularly indulges in shoving a cactus down his own throat rather than Michael’s dick.

So Luke doesn’t mean to snap, not really. But the second Michael stops plucking at the strings and full on strumming , Luke can’t help himself. “It sounds fine Michael. Cut it out.” There are a few seconds of silence, in which even the tech guy frowns at Luke slightly. He cringes inwardly. It’s not his fault really, not when his head feels like Ashton has decided to replace his drum kit with Luke’s own skull instead.

“Whoa, okay. Chill dude” Ashton throws him a questioning glance from where he’s leaning up against the wall, trying to stay out of the way of Calum and his bass. Michael stays silent, but Luke’s hazy mind takes note that his hands have dropped from where they had been hovering over the guitar strings and are now hanging by his sides awkwardly. He shoves them into his pockets after another second of awkward silence.

Things have been strained between the two of them recently anyway, sometimes they get like this on tour. They both struggle the most within the band, the drawbacks of their relative fame and the strains of hiding their relationship from so many prying eyes. Neither of them have quite figured out how to make it work on the road yet when they have the eyes on them constantly, despite years of touring. In between playing show after show, promo and interviews, they barely have time to catch a moment for themselves, let alone each other.

Sometimes Luke finds himself missing Michael desperately, despite the fact that he’s generally within meters of him day in and day out. But physical proximity isn’t the same as emotional closeness, they’ve both discovered. Luke aches to be able to reach out and grab his hand, lace their fingers together and press a kiss to his cheek. But he can’t, because there’s no way in hell management will ever let them and their relationship escape the shadows of half-lit hotel rooms and Luke’s apartment in LA which they have to maintain the facade that they absolutely, do not, under any circumstances, share. So they struggle through tour after tour, making it work for as long as they can until they reach a breaking point. Like right now.

It’s their fatal flaw really. When they get like this they tend to take it out on each other, push each other away. That’s what they’ve been doing the past few days, the exhaustion dragging them down presenting itself in the form of screaming matches at 1am, terse silence and snappy remarks. Like the one Luke has just thrown, but he’s a little too feverish to care as much as he usually should, so he ignores the fact that Michael very clearly makes the move to sit between Ashton and Calum when they are finally called on stage for their short set, leaving Luke to sit on the end and wallow in his own self-pity.

This sucks.

Luke manages to fumble his way through their set fairly well. He only misses two of his cues, both of which Michael covers for him with ease, despite Luke's earlier comments. As they all stand up from their stools to wave goodbye to the small crowd that’s been gathered inside of the radio station, the room sways and Luke stumbles slightly. He feels a hand brush the small of his back, and he turns his head sharply to see Michael standing next to him. As soon as he does, there are cheers rushing through his ears suddenly and he cringes away from the sharp sound. He’s vaguely aware of the way that Calum steps in front of the two of them, probably just out of instinct. They’re all used to this now, the way that any tiny displays of affection between the two of them are picked up on and amplified, but it never makes it any easier. Especially not on days like today.

He can already feel the disapproving glares of their management assistant and fuck, he doesn’t think he can deal with that today. He just can’t. So he jerks his body away from Michael, even though he had dropped his hand as soon as they heard the chorus of screams from directly behind them.

“I’m sorry, look I was just trying to-” Michael jumps in as soon as they're out of view, before Luke can even form any coherent thoughts. He's immediately trying to appease the situation because he can see the way Luke’s body locks up in some sort of discomfort, the way he scrubs his palm over his face, half in attempt to relieve tension and half in attempt to just hide himself in general. From who, he’s not sure. The world, probably. They all get like that sometimes.

“I don’t care what you were trying to do. Whatever it is, just don’t.”

With that, Luke passes his guitar off to one of their crew waiting in the next room over, and he leaves. The closest bathroom is a sanctuary as he splashes some water on his face and slides down the walls of one of the stalls. His head falls into his hands, trying to regain some sort of sanity. He stays like that until he hears Ashton’s voice somewhere outside, letting him know that they’re leaving in a minute, so Luke pushes him up off the slightly grimy floor, ignoring the vertigo as he does, and makes the walk of shame over to where Ashton is standing by the door, his attention directed down at his phone instead of at Luke. He’s not actually looking at anything, just trying to put Luke at ease slightly. Luke feels a pang of appreciation (which is the first and probably only positive emotion he's felt that day) that it’s Ashton that came after him, instead of sending one of their tour crew to retrieve him.

“We’re just heading back to the hotel now” Ashton mentions, trying his best to sound offhandish as they grow closer to the back exit of the radio station, and the soft chatter of their crew milling around waiting for them grows louder.

“Okay.”

Ashton doesn’t press anything else out of him, just continues to scroll aimlessly through his phone as they walk in step beside each other. Luke kind of appreciates that as well. There’s a little part inside of him which sort of wishes that it was Michael though. They’re always the ones to draw each other back out of their shells, whatever broken slump they may have found themselves in on any given day. The halls are entirely deserted, and if it was Michael here he might have even dared to wrap an arm around Luke, pull the younger boy into his side, ignoring the fact that Luke has a good few inches on him. If it had been today though, Luke supposes that he probably wouldn’t have risked it. After before, Luke knows that Michael will entirely avoid touching him in public for at least a week or two.

Either way, Luke shoves the thoughts out of his head and lets the foggy haze dominate his brain again as they find themselves standing on the outskirts of the group of their team that has been waiting for them, and surprise, surprise, Michael won’t even look at him.

So Luke doesn’t look at him either. Not the entire time in the van back to the hotel, or in the lobby as they get their keycards back because apparently they can’t be trusted not to lose them, or in the elevator or even in the hallway as they say goodnight to Ashton and Calum who are heading in the opposite direction.

Not until the two of them end up alone, their muffled footsteps on the thin hotel carpet the only sounds filling the air. “I’m sleeping in my own room tonight” Luke mutters, under his breath almost as if he doesn’t want Michael to hear. He doesn’t really. All he wants is to be able to fall asleep with his head on Michael’s chest and feel the tensions between them melt away as they’re finally allowed to be close and intimate with each other, locked behind the door of a hotel room. But Luke is stubborn, he feels like hell, and there’s no way he’s going to make things any worse between the two of them by dragging Michael down with the flu as well.

“Excuse me?” Michael turns from where he’s walking a few paces ahead, and their eyes finally lock together. Luke notices the way that his eyebrows furrow in a frown.

“I said I’m sleeping in my own room tonight” Luke repeats. “Without you” He tacks on the end for emphasis, for nothing more than to maybe get a reaction out of Michael, so that there is some sort of energy between them rather than this dejected, hopeless mood that's been swallowing them lately.

“Luke look, please don’t do this. Not tonight. I know there’s something going on but we can just go to bed and sort whatever it is in the morning, just-”

“There’s nothing going on. We just need space tonight. Not a big deal” Luke’s voice is sharper than he intended, indicating that it is, indeed, kind of a big deal.

“We need space? We? haven’t seen you in like, four days since we had that day off in Melbourne, and you’re talking about needing space?” Michael asks incredulously, his voice raising slightly. He’s leaning against the door to his hotel room now, twisting the key card between his fingers, distracting himself like he does when he gets anxious or riled up.

“I spend like every single hour of every day with you Michael, you’re being ridiculous”

“You know that’s not what I meant. I meant seen you, properly. Like, just us.”

“Well, maybe that's not what I want tonight” Luke shrugs. He hates this side of himself, despises the way he’s talking to Michael, but now there’s an intensified pounding in his skull behind his eyes from the raised voices and all this discussion, which could have just been avoided if Michael would simply damn listen to him, is wrecking his throat even further.

“I’m not even going to argue with you. See you in the morning” Michael turns and swipes his key card in the door, leaving Luke staring stupidly at his back, unsure as to whether he should just stalk off or not. Michael’s shoulders are raised up towards his ears, Luke can recognise every single little sign within him when he’s tense and upset, and that's one of them.

“I love you” Luke offers, an attempt at a half-arsed peace offering born out of the guilt he feels. He had been expecting a little more of a fight out of Michael, and Luke desperately tries to stamp on that tiny little bit of disappointment that hit his queasy guts. This is his idea anyway. Michael needs to be healthy. He can’t be healthy around Luke right now. Physically and mentally, are the words that swirl in Luke’s mind but he squashes that as quick as he crushed his disappointment.

“Fuck off Luke,” Michael responds, breaking Luke out of his thoughts and after that, he’s gone, the thud of the door echoing around the empty corridor where Luke is now standing, alone.

It’s not like he had expected this conversation to go well. After all, they’re both exhausted, Luke feels like he may as well be coming down with some deadly virus instead of just the plain old flu, and now they’re both going to spend a sleepless night sulking and cursing over one another, trying to convince themselves that they don’t need the other to sleep and that they’re both perfectly fine... (not).

Luke stands still for a minute, staring blankly at the door that Michael had slammed between them. He figures he just looks crazy now, staring, but not really seeing, at someone else's hotel room door. So he whips his head around to make sure that they had been alone in the hallway, before making his way down to his own room, three doors down. It feels cold when he opens the door, lugging his bag in behind him. The king size bed is definitely far too big for just one person, but he's trying desperately to ignore the loneliness that's already setting in because god, he's so pathetic, and rummages through his bag until he reaches the crumpled paper bag which he had picked up from a pharmacy at midday today when he had slipped away during their lunch break. He couldn’t deal with the far too loud antics of Calum and Ashton anyway. It’s filled with as many over the counter drugs and medications as he could get his hands on, anything that mentioned ‘cold and flu’ on the packaging, Luke had piled into his arms and hastily paid for, trying to get back without anyone noticing he was gone.

So he spends the next five minutes taking as many pills as he thinks will be relatively safe, using the hotel room shot glasses to tip cough medicine down his aching throat and swallows just one more than the recommended amount of painkillers. Anything to stop the thudding in his skull. It might help his fever too, he figures, he’s sure he has one of those. His mum would know. Mothers know everything.

Luke can so clearly remember getting sick when he was younger, the golden days during cold Australian winters when Liz would finally relent and let him have the day off school. He would stretch out on the couch and watch reruns of Family Guy, maybe Spongebob if there was nothing else on. His mum would make soup before she went to work, and remind him to “make sure you keep yourself warm” because “you’re always on the playground without a jumper!”

As he got older it progressed to “you’re always walking to those band practices in the damn rain Luke Hemmings,” and maybe if Mike or Calum were feeling particularly generous they would make the trip to his house after school to drop off his homework and play a round of FIFA or two with him to cheer him up. He was always particularly excited when it was Michael that dropped off his homework on these days. He wasn’t sure what that meant then, why he got that strange tingly feeling in his stomach whenever he got the ‘ im coming round with ur hw, c u soon' text. They’d both figured that out by now, clearly.

Sometimes on those days off, those sick days when his stomach would be churning and his nose would be running as he wiped it on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, because he was a teenage boy and teenage boys are gross, he imagined what it might be like if all of them made it big one day. Him, Michael, Calum and Ashton. Back in those days, Luke had always viewed the touring life as glamour and rock n’ roll. He thought it would involve private jets, a different city every few days, constant sightseeing and time off partying on tropical islands. Luxurious food, assistants waiting at every beck and call, and at that point he even thought that maybe there might be a glamorous girlfriend tagging along somewhere in the mix.

What he hadn’t imagined, in his superficial, glossed over daydreams were the moments exactly like this. He’s so alone in this empty, soulless hotel room, with nothing but himself and his flu medication for company. He could text Michael, he figures. Tell him that he’s sorry for being a dick, and can he please get his ass over here because he could really use a cuddle right now. But he’s too stubborn for that. And maybe, just maybe, there’s a tiny part somewhere inside of him that’s petrified that if he asks, Michael will say no. Tell him to shut up and to go to sleep, that he’s being too needy. So Luke doesn’t text Michael. Instead, he crawls into bed in just his boxers and screws his eyes shut, hoping that maybe, the universe might just feel sorry enough for him to allow him to sleep tonight.

As it turns out, the universe clearly must have no sympathy for him, Luke decides as he lies awake that night. He clutches one of Michael’s black hoodies to his chest, one that he had left in his bag a few nights ago and has forgotten to take back. He’s far too hot to consider wearing it, the blankets already strewn across the floor to the right side of the bed and in his hazy state he thinks he can feel beads of sweat dripping down the side of his face and he’s too hot, even though he’s shivering like crazy. So he just wraps his arms around it, inhaling Michael’s scent, which has admittedly become mingled with the smell of sweat and general unkemptness from the dirty laundry at the bottom of Luke’s bag but it’s Michael all the same, and fuck, Luke is far too delirious to care right now.

Luke’s entire body is aching and cramping as he wakes up in the morning, figuring he must have gotten a total of maybe three hours of sleep if he’s lucky. He'd forgotten to close the curtains last night, and grey sunlight, tinged from the foreboding looking clouds in the sky, is beginning to fill the room slowly. He manages to force himself out of bed slowly, the only coherent thought forming in his head, the fact that they have their show in Sydney tonight. All of their families are going to be there and normally Luke would be over the moon. They love performing in their home city, but he’s so aware of all the energy it’s going to take to plaster a smile on his face for his family, and all his extended family he’s gained through the boys and their own relatives.

He gets dressed slowly, his fingers fumbling and shaking as he attempts the buttons on his shirt, cursing at himself as he realises as he realises he's done it all wrong. He vows to himself to save all of his energy he has for tonight, but somewhere in the fog of his flu-ridden head, his brain kindly reminds him that he doesn't actually have any energy left. 

The show must go on. 

He drags himself through the day, desperately trying to ignore that now along with his body aching from the flu, his chest aching at the fact that Michael is very clearly and pointedly ignoring him, consistently positioning himself on the opposite side of the room from Luke and Luke tells himself he doesn’t care.

He just wants this day to be over because everything seems to get worse and worse by the hour. He's still shivering ever so slightly, he can’t breathe through his damn nose and his throat hurts like a bitch. At some point, Luke lets himself remember the fact that Michael gives the best throat massages he’s ever had in his life, and he has to shake the thought away before his resolve crumbles. He can’t focus on Michael, but it’s too late and he’s already staring as Michael glances over slightly. The two of them have always seemed to have this weird sense when they can tell if the other one is looking at them, even from across a room. They just know. Michael’s forehead creases, his questioning gaze as his eyes lock on Luke. Luke shakes his head, tears his eyes away. He's entirely aware that he must look just as shitty as he feels right now, but he’s trying his absolute best to act like everything is okay. He knows everyone is looking forward to tonight. He’s not going to ruin that.

A moment of peace finally comes when they finish up a final interview for the day at a local television studio, and they all pile into the back of yet another van to shuttle them to the venue. Ashton and Calum climb in first, and Luke wonders if this is on purpose, as a signal to let Michael and Luke know that they want them to sort out their shit before the show tonight. Instead, Luke just shoves in his earbuds and lets his head fall against the window of the van to his right, rather than on the shoulder of his boyfriend on his left. He can’t risk being any closer to Michael right now than he already is. He’s already irritated enough with Luke as it is, let alone if Luke passes his illness onto him. So he stares straight ahead

His moment of peace isn’t long lived though, and he’s shoved back into reality, quite literally when Michael gets up from next to him and shakes him slightly, but not nearly as gently as he usually does. “We’re here” is all his older boyfriend mutters, and by the time Luke gets up and lets the dizziness subside, his three bandmates have already clambered out without him.

Luke waves off the questioning look from their security as they shut the door of the van behind him, and he focuses all his energy on watching the backs of Ash, Calum and Michael enter the back doors of the venue. This way, his mind isn’t so preoccupied with the way the world is spinning slightly.

He’s by himself now, following the footsteps of the rest of his band that he had lost sight of somewhere in the winding maze of corridors. So caught up in his thoughts, Luke can’t stop the wince crossing his face when hears commotion start-up meters away from him, claps and cheers, warm, excitable voices talking over each other. It’s a sound he recognises too well, families being reunited after months away on the road. Sure enough, Luke turns the last corner and his eyes don’t even have time to widen in surprise before he’s being tackled into a hug by his mother, Jack and Ben not far behind. Wrapping his arms around his mother, Luke lets how horrible he’s feeling wash away for a few moments and rests his chin on top of his mother’s blonde hair.

“I’ve missed you,” she looks up at him and her eyes shine with the sort of adoration that Luke is sure that he doesn’t deserve. Luke stifles a cough.

“You too” is all he feels he can safely choke out, glad that Jack diverts attention as he steps in front of Liz to pat Luke on the back and pull him into a hug. His dad steps in for a hug, Ben throws an arm around his shoulder, and he’s sure that he spots Celeste somewhere before he’s wrapped in hugs from various aunts, uncles, cousins, all of their extended family that lives anywhere within the Sydney vicinity. He’s thankful, he really is, that his family all love him and his band enough to want to be here tonight, and every other night that they happen to be playing a gig in Sydney. But he’s also thankful when all the greetings stop and he has a second to scan the room, his eyes landing on Michael, still trapped in a bear hug from his mum, even a few minutes after they had walked into the room. He knows Michael's parents struggle the most with him being away all the time, being an only child and all.

Everyone drifts apart from their own little family circles eventually, and Luke waits until Michael has moved on to greeting Joy and Lauren before he approaches Karen and Daryl, letting Karen embrace him in a hug and kiss him on the cheek. Daryl wraps an arm around him and calls him ‘son,’ which warms Luke inside a little bit. He smells like Michael ever so slightly as well. It’s comforting in a way.

It feels like forever until Luke can finally escape. He’s done the rounds of the room multiple times, making an effort to greet everyone, give them all a smile and a hug, thank them for coming. He feels a bit guilty. They're only here for a night after all, before they disappear off to the other side of the world again but his family all came out to Brisbane, he had caught up with them then and frankly, everyone is fetching themselves a wine or a beer, by now they’re probably too busy catching up on the past few months to notice that he’s missing.

So without drawing any attention to himself, he pulls his mum to the side and quickly mentions that he has an important phone call to make so he’ll be gone for a bit. He tries to ignore the clear disappointment on her face and hopes that she can’t see straight through his lies, even as she gives him a small smile, and tells him that it's fine and that they'll all see him before the show stars. With that, he slips from the room and down a yet another hallway. He knows where he’s going now, remembers where the dressing rooms are after playing here multiple times over the years.

He reaches for the door handle, his chest heaving with coughs he’s so desperately trying to keep quiet. A small shudder of a sigh follows, coursing through him at the sight of the empty room, the soft couches, gentle fairy lights and blankets. He thinks he can smell candles burning somewhere. Their team makes the effort at every venue to set this room up the same way each time, to provide a little bit of home and stability. They don’t get a lot of that on the road. Luke notes the irony of the fact that as he’s pining for that, when his family, Michael, his bandmates, are all just down the hall. They’re his home and stability.

But a lie-down and an attempt to keep himself hydrated win for now though as he spots the abundance of bottled water that he hopes might soothe his throat. Just as he goes to shut the door behind him, he can hear a small call of his name and he groans inwardly, wishing he could disappear. “Lu wait!” The voice and the nickname registers with Luke now, and the beginnings of a small smile tug at the corners of his lips.

“Hey Zoe,” he says softly, turning once again to open the door slightly wider so that his smallest cousin can follow him into the room. She has called him ‘Lu’ ever since she was small. She never could quite get the hang of the ‘k’ sound when she was younger, and now she’s at six years old it’s long since stuck.

“What’cha doing in here hm?” Luke’s smile still lingers slightly as he lets himself sink into the cushions on the sofa, a little bit of the tension in his body flooding away.

“Following you” she nods, in the matter of fact manner that little kids seem to possess.

“You don’t want to hang out with everyone else? I’m sure they’re a lot more fun than me, I was just going to rest" Luke takes a swig from one of the bottles of water he’d grabbed. "I’m sure you could even get Aunty Liz to take you to see the stage if you asked nicely” he adds as an offer, wincing from the sensation of the cold liquid hitting his throat. She shakes her head stubbornly, her small figure climbing up onto the couch next to Luke.

“Too loud” is all she says and Luke nods.

“Yeah, fair enough.” His own head is still throbbing a little from all the chaos and with that, the two of them fall into silence. Sometimes, it amazes Luke how attached she seems to be to him, despite how rarely he finds himself at home. After a while, Zoe retreats down to the floor in order to play with one of the small plastic horse figurines that she’s kept curled up in her palm. Luke figures that Zoe probably isn’t going to go anywhere, nor can she really cause too much harm to herself in here, so he allows himself to stretch out on the sofa, reaching out blindly for a pillow to rest his head on. It’s only been a minute before he hears her pipe up softly from her spot on the carpet next to where he’s lying.

“You look icky.” She pokes his cheek as his eyes droop closed again. He hums in response, trying to think of a way to explain just how horrible he’s feeling to Zoe without using the string of curse words he so wants to use.

“Remember last summer when I was home? When you came round to my house and Michael was there?” Luke finally mumbles, opening his eyes and watching as Zoe listens intently to him.

“Mikey? He has cool hair?” She questions, her head tilted slightly as she waits for Luke’s reply.

“Yeah. That Mikey” Luke smiles slightly. He isn’t sure Michael is entirely fond of that nickname, but he also knows that his boyfriend has a soft spot for Zoe, he always lets it slide. “He has pink hair now” he tacks on, and Zoe makes a tiny ‘ooh’ing noise in awe. Luke hopes she gets to see it tonight. “Remember how he was really sick, and we both had to take care of him? You helped me make soup for him and we all watched cartoons?” Luke can still recall that day fondly, and Zoe nods. “Right now, I feel like he did that day. All gross.”

“I hope you feel better soon. You should get Mikey to make you some soup,” Zoe tells him seriously, before reaching up slightly to press a tiny kiss onto his cheek.

“Yeah, maybe I should” Luke agrees before he's drifting back into that hazy state which he’s become accustomed to living in over the past few days.

He must have fallen asleep at some point because he can’t tell if it’s been mere minutes or hours before he’s rudely awakened by the sound of voices in the doorway of the room. He’s sure that he’d shut it behind them. He scrubs at his eyes with his knuckles, blinking a few times as he focuses on the figures of Michael and Ashton.

“What?” Luke croaks out sleepily, cringing at the hoarseness of his voice but it doesn’t seem to register with either of them as they continue to stare at him

“We have to go onstage in like half an hour, what the fuck are you doing?” Michael sighs and Luke wants to tell them that there are little ears in the room, but before he can, Ashton cut him off.

“This doesn’t particularly look like a big phone call ” his tone sounds slightly accusing, and usually Luke would tell himself that surely Ashton didn't mean for his words to come across so harsh, but tonight it just hurts.

“I just needed a bit of time to myself-”

“I heard that excuse last night Luke. Better come up with something original next time” Michael’s eyes are shining with hurt despite the bitterness in his tone.

“Just wake yourself up, I’m sure your family would love to see you, they have been here all night you know,” Ashton says finally and his tone has shifted from accusing to just plain cold. Luke wonders if Michael has told him about their disagreement from last night, but before Luke gets the chance to speak up and argue that guilt-tripping him is so not cool right now, the two of them are turning and leaving the room.

Luke groans, his head pounding even more after the encounter, and he can’t stop himself from letting his eyes fall shut again. He’s forgotten Zoe is even in the room, and he doesn’t notice her slip from the room and dash down the hallway after the retreating footsteps belonging to Ashton and Michael.

“Mikey!” Zoe calls out, trying to catch the attention of the boy that she knows best out of them both.

“What do you-” Michael starts harshly, spinning around at the sound of his nickname. As he meets the gaze of the small girl his voice softens considerably. “Zoe… hey, sorry I didn’t realise it was you” he frowns apologetically, kicking himself for the way he had spoken to a six-year-old.

“What’s up?” Michael crouches down to be at her level, taking note of the glare on her features. He can hear Ashton from above him, still standing upright and trying to stifle a laugh at Zoe's arms crossed across her chest, almost as if she's trying to look intimidating, even though next to her cousin’s boyfriend, with his tattoos, dyed hair and piercings, she doesn't stand a chance. Michael reaches out to hit Ashton in the shin. That shuts him up.

“Don’t be mean to Lu,” Zoe mutters and her pout reminds Michael of Luke’s a little bit though, the one he's treated to when he absolutely refuses to stay in bed for ‘just another five minutes’ to cuddle because ‘Luke we literally have no time or we’ll be late.’

“He said he was icky, like you,” she continues.

“Like me?” Michael asks. He’s perplexed slightly now, and there’s a little bit of worry starting to seep in.

“When we had to make you soup at Aunty Liz’s house” Zoe repeats what Luke had told her, and suddenly it clicks inside of Michael.

He remembers that day well, his parents had been out of town just after Christmas and the flu had hit him hard after the climate change between European winter and hot Australian summer. He had made it round to Luke’s house and had been welcomed in as always, even when members of Luke’s extended family were all sitting in the living room. Luke had wrapped a steady arm around his boyfriend, guiding him upstairs to his bedroom, where they had spent the rest of the day on the bed with Zoe in between them, watching childish cartoons and eating Thai chicken soup that had been made by Liz days earlier, and lovingly reheated by Zoe and Luke. If Luke felt even close to how Michael had that day, then he’s screwed up. He curses under his breath, both at himself and Luke because it is just like him to try and keep it quiet that he’s feeling like crap, and Michael really just wishes he wouldn’t do that.

“Thanks for telling me, Zoe. Why don’t you go with Ashton back to find your mum and I’ll go check on Lu?”

“Okay. You need to make him better” Zoe instructs him, gazing up at him for another few seconds before she’s seemingly happy with the outcome, accepting Ashton’s outstretched hand who leads her back to where everyone is still mingling in the main catering area of backstage.

Michael pushes himself up from where he is still crouching on the floor and retraces his steps back down the hall towards the dressing room where he had only been a few minutes prior. The door is still open like him and Ashton had left it, and as he turns the corner into the room it’s the first time in the past few days that Michael overlooks any exasperation he's been harbouring towards Luke and looks at him, actually looks at him. He hates what he sees as he takes in Luke’s tired, slightly watery eyes, pale complexion and the way that he shivers as he stands.

“I’m coming, I’m coming” Luke mumbles, eyeing his boyfriend standing in the doorway with suspicion, not wanting to be grumbled at again. Before Michael has the chance to open his mouth, wrap his arms around his boyfriend or plant a kiss on his forehead, a few of their sound guys appear behind them.

“We need to go, your mics need to be fitted.”

Luke just shrugs slightly, maintaining eye contact with Michael, almost as if he’s trying to figure out what the other man wants, whether he’s come to get annoyed with him again or not. Michael takes his hand as they walk out of the door, following the sound crew, squeezing ever so slightly. Luke isn’t quite sure what this means, or why Michael is suddenly seemingly open to affection again after Luke has been nothing but nasty to him over the past few days, but he doesn’t argue and lets his head drop against his boyfriend's shoulder for a second. He can hear Calum, Ashton and their families not far behind them and he tries to remind himself to stay steady. They still have a show to do, and they can’t afford to mess this one up.

So Luke lets the sound crew mic him up, and even lets Michael take his guitar off him and tune it for him when the older man notices the way Luke’s hands shake as he tries to do it correctly himself. Luke is still too tired to be properly confused about Michael’s apparent sudden switch but he doesn’t complain. His parents both hug him before they go on stage and he bends down when Zoe appears next to him, whispering in his ear.

“I told Mikey to make you better”

“Did you? Thank you so much, I feel better now I promise” Luke assures Zoe before he stands up and takes a deep breath. Ashton is cheering something about showtime as Luke adjusts his in-ears to try and tune out as much of the screaming and sounds from the crowd as he can. His headache has not long since dissipated slightly and he’d really rather if it just stayed that way, but he’s not sure if he’s quite got it right before he feels a small shove on his back from Calum and suddenly he’s on stage, the lights slightly too bright and the crowd still just slightly too loud. His muscles know exactly what to do though, and before he’s even thought about it he’s flashing a smile to everyone in front of them, strumming the opening chords on his guitar and attempting to lose himself as much as possible.

Michael keeps an eye on Luke while they’re on stage that night, almost as if he can make up for all the other nights when he’s been far too engrossed in the crowd and their performance and the fact that he’s been kinda sorta mad at Luke recently, to notice anything about the state of his boyfriend. Now, he doesn’t miss the way that his voice cracks slightly during the solos and between each song he turns from the crowd and dips his head down, breathing slightly heavier than probably should be normal. He winces at the end of songs when the cheering is particularly piercing, and whenever an exceptionally bright spotlight hits him. It’s not often Michael finds himself wishing for this, but all he wants is for the gig to be over, for Luke’s sake.

Backstage is a flurry of activity as they all pile off after their set, everyone is celebrating, taking photos and congratulating them on what everyone seems to insist was a fantastic show. Both Michael and Luke get caught back up with their families, basking in the slightly sweaty post-show glow so they don’t manage to get a minute alone until final kisses have been pressed to cheeks and mothers have made their sons promise to be safe and responsible until they’re home next, and then the four of them are being whisked away again.

Now, sitting in the back of yet another van to take them back to the hotel, Luke begins to feel slightly queasy, both from the movement of the vehicle and all the energy he had put into their show only a few hours prior.

“You don’t look so great” Michael’s voice is soft, sympathetic even. Ashton and Calum both have their headphones in, sitting in the row in front of them so he figures now is as good of a time as any to try and patch things up. He extends his hand out in offering for Luke to take, but he just looks down at it as if handholding is some foreign concept to him before he speaks up. His voice is hoarser now, after the show and it only makes Michael feel worse.

“Aren’t you mad at me? You should be, I’ve been-”

“Shut up. You’re sick”

Luke frowns, then exhales shakily. “Sorry, I didn’t ask Zoe to come after you, I didn’t even realise she had until she was gone and-”

“That doesn't matter, I'm glad she told me. I kinda get the feeling that you weren't planning to..." he trails off. "You know you can’t keep this stuff to yourself, you could have told me. Why didn’t you?" Michael’s voice sounds slightly wounded and Luke’s shoulders sag at this.

He reaches out to take Michael’s hand, still stretched towards him.

“We were, uh, just having one of those weeks y’know? And plus I didn’t want to get you sick”

“Us having ‘one of those weeks,’ doesn’t mean I love you any less you know? Don’t be dumb. It just means I love you so much that I don’t know how to be without you, duh.” Michael pauses, sighs. “I know you get the most pressure out of all of us, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep trying to deal with everything by yourself. We’re all here and we always have been, so you have no excuses to be a little shit and try and hide the flu from me you dickhead. I’m your boyfriend. You’re meant to let me feed you soup and medicate you and play video games with you, not yell at me and leave me to sleep on my own.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that by the way”

“I’ll forgive you if you let me cuddle you tonight?”

“Deal.”

So true to his word, Luke lets Michael lead him through the hotel lobby and into the lift, along the hallway and into Michael’s hotel room. The one that Luke had stood outside of as he stubbornly argued with Michael just last night. He can’t quite figure out how he had the energy for that when right now he feels like nothing more than collapsing in bed and sleeping for a day or so. Not that they have the time for that.

“I absolutely refuse to cuddle with you until you smell a lot better than you do right now, you need a shower” Michael laughs as they step inside, and he’s treated with the exact same pout that Zoe’s had reminded him of earlier.

“Fine. Only if you go get some of my medicine from my room” Luke bargains, holding out the keycard for his own room.

By the time Luke finishes in the shower, successfully battling the heat and the steam without passing out, Michael is already in bed, curled up under the duvet. “I just left your pills n’ stuff on the table over there” Michael gestures vaguely to his left. “I only brought some of them, it’s like you’ve got a whole pharmacy set up in your room huh?”

Luke mumbles out some sort of thank you in response, too preoccupied with taking as much of the medication that he can before turning to pull his t-shirt off and join Michael in bed.

He rests his head on Michael’s chest, his curls splaying in all different directions and tickling Michael on the chin slightly. It’s comforting, having Luke back by his side after almost a week of tension. Every time this happens they always vow to figure out exactly why they get like this on tour sometimes, and how they can fix it for next time. They never really succeed, and it always happens again but they never fail to find their way back to each other. One thing Michael does vow to fix though, as he leans over to flick off the bedside lamp, is making sure Luke doesn’t continue to force himself to suffer alone. They’ll work on that. But for now, Michael brings an arm up to wrap around Luke’s waist and bring him closer, ignoring the small weak whine of protest.

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to get you sick”

“Shut up you dickhead, just go to sleep”

“You’re not allowed to be mean to me, I’m sick.” Michael’s sure Luke is probably pouting into the dark room as he says that. Michael hums slightly, sending small shivers up Luke’s spine from where Michael’s lips are pressed to his shoulder.

“Ok fine, only because you’re sick”

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Now sleep”

And so they fall asleep next to each other. The way it's meant to be. 

They're both perfectly fine.