Chapter Text
A rusty streetlamp flickers sporadically overhead.
He’s just outside his hotel room, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, totally engrossed in the fulgurating pulse of light. The slick outer sheath of his coat is still a bit wet, and its fur lined hood hugs up close around his neck, doing its best to keep out the cold. Damn, is it cold.
Michael hasn’t been this calm in forever. In fact, it’s been so long, he’s not even sure if this is what that is. He figures it’s calm, though, because he, for once, doesn’t feel like he’s suffocating. He isn’t seething with rage or hate, and he doesn’t particularly want to punch anything.
Instead, he is perfectly numb.
He considers this, and finally looks down from the light. He reaches up to hold his cigarette steady, bracing for a drag, before he realizes that he’s been staring at that lamp for longer than originally thought. It’s down to the filter, and his pack is empty.
“God fucking dammit,” Michael mutters, throwing the stupid thing to the ground and grinding it with his foot.
His eyes linger on the sidewalk for a moment. It’s been raining all day and there are puddles everywhere. He catches his reflection in the one he’s been standing in for half an hour, and winces.
“Jesus..” He runs his hand through his hair- unwashed, matted, and sticking up everywhere. The sea green tint of it makes it look as though someone’s just gone and thrown up on his head. Bloodshot eyes are accented by two black crescent moons and a bloodied lip.
A bloodied fucking lip…
It all comes back in a flash, and Michael wants to rip his hair out.
He was sitting in the lounge area of their room, watching tv, when his freshly showered roommate plops down beside him on the loveseat.
His heartbeat quickens a bit when he glances over at Luke, still in his towel. The blonde notices, and turns to Mikey, half chewing on his protein bar, half assessing the look on his best friend’s face.
“Hey, dude,” Luke approaches cautiously, “, you alright?”
Michael looks away, down at his hands. “Yeah man, no worries. You just caught me off guard.”
Luke’s face scrunches up and he lets out a half-sigh, half-laugh. “Caught you off guard? It’s not like I’m naked or anything, Mikey. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Mikey goes a little red at the thought. He’s not been normal around Luke for some time, you’d think the younger boy would be used to it by now. Of course, he’d been in love with Luke for a very long time. But as of recent it’s been getting harder to keep it all in. Luke’s been maturing and Michael doesn’t really know how to handle it. He doesn’t know how to react anymore, so afraid of what might become of this actions if he were to do something wrong.
That’s what makes this next part entirely too stupid.
“Mikey?”
Michael snaps out of his trance and looks up, only to be met by Luke’s blue, blue eyes.
“Do you need to go to the doctor or something? Maybe I should go fetch Calum and Ash..” He trails off, thinking that perhaps his friend has a fever, because his cheeks have been red for an awfully long time now.
Michael blinks. “No, no! You don’t have to, I just… I,” His breathing quickens and he panics. And then he makes the biggest mistake of his life.
Mikey’s eyes blink shut and everything is still- his heart, his breathing, his lips- and he reaches forward and grabs Luke’s face, pulling him close and kissing him. It’s just a slight moment before he releases him and opens his eyes in terror, taking in Luke’s motionless stature and intense, empty gaze.
“Oh God, Luke, I’m so sorry, I-“
“What the fuck was that?” It’s a low whisper, and the blonde seems to be back in the moment again.
“What?” Michael stops breathing.
“I said, what the fuck was that?!” Luke rages, popping up. “Did you just fucking kiss me?!”
“Well, I mean, that part seemed pretty obvious.” Michael trails, slightly annoyed with the reaction.
“What the fuck?!” Luke’s face takes on a look of disgust, his eyes clouded over with hate. “Fucking gross! You fucking fag, oh my God!” He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and looks down at it, like he expected to see lingering cooties or some other bullshit.
Michael is very quietly taken aback by this. Luke just called him, above all things, a fag. He’s acting like, instead of his best friend kissing him, his mouth just got shit on by some street pigeon. It fucking hurt, but that only made him angry.
“You’re seriously going to be that way? My fucking bad, mate, didn’t realize you were going to be a child about it.” Mikey spits, feeling like he could scream.
“You fucking kissing me! You’re disgusting!” Luke turns on him, and drops his protein bar to the ground, now pointing accusingly at other. “I’m switching rooms.”
“Oh, you’re switching rooms?” Michael scoffs, “Is little Lukey afraid Big Bad Gay Michael is going to molest him in his sleep?”
And that sends Luke over the edge. He cocks his fist back, tears boiling up in his eyes, and lets it fly, hitting Michael straight in the mouth.
He met the floor and Luke stormed out.
So he’s been out here for a while, leaning against a dirty street lamp and emptying out a pack. He knew he had to go back in and face the others, but after being out here for a while, he realized that he feels better now, slightly. He still feels angry at himself for doing what he did, but it’s like this huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders. At least he doesn’t have to fucking hide anymore.
Mikey pulls out his phone and looks at his eight missed calls; three from Calum, four from Ashton, and, surprisingly, one from Luke. Though that made his stomach drop. He couldn’t hide forever, though.
So he scrubs his faces with his hands roughly and sighs heavily, turning on his heal to deal with what he’d done.