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There was a feeling of unease crawling up and down Luke’s arms. He didn’t really know what set it off, but he just knew that everything felt wrong . Like he was sick, and there was an ache in his chest, and his stomach, and his throat, except it wasn’t. He wasn’t sick; he was cold and was barely wearing clothing at this point, anyway. His skin was just sticky , and he felt like he’d been doused in oil and grease and then covered in dust. The feeling of his hair touching his neck and forehead, on top of everything else was enough to create tears in his eyes. And Luke didn’t want to cry today. He was emotionally exhausted, and the idea of crying was horrific, even though he felt like shit, and the small, logical side of his brain that had been pushed to the side once he started arguing with his mom yesterday said he probably should cry to feel better.
Fortunately, the studio was empty when Luke showed up, and he psyched himself up for a moment of work before freedom and moved the coffee table off of the rug so he could lay down, sprawl out, and hope that miraculously, he would be fine enough when rehearsal started in a half-hour. Luke laid down on the rug and immediately was filled with such a rush of no! through his body that he scrambled up and away from it. He rubbed his index fingers against his thumbs and moved to lean against the wall. It was cold and calming, and smooth enough that he didn’t hate it, but fuck, he just wanted to sit down. But the ground was carpeted, and he just couldn’t. And now, standing up meant that his hair had nowhere to go but down against his skin, which was really the worst part about everything.
He hesitantly poked the couch and then laid his hand against it, and when the revulsion wasn’t as bad as it could have been, Luke basically ran over and starfished onto it. It wasn’t the best feeling in the world, and Luke’s entire insides were still all mumble-jumbled, but it was good enough for now. He continued to rub his fingers together because, of course (he really shouldn’t be all that surprised with the bullshit his body was pulling), he was absolutely desperate for physical affection. Fuck .
The next twenty minutes saw Luke laying on the couch, trying to just let his brain get the heck off of the tracks that wanted to focus only on how shitty he was feeling. Like, c’mon, the band had a gig next weekend, and Luke had song ideas, so it’d be great if he could only just fucking focus on that, instead of the squeamish feeling rocketing up and down his arms and into his chest.
“Oh Luke,” Alex sighed from the door, and Luke shot up to look at him. Alex was frowning slightly, and Luke honestly couldn’t tell if he was exasperated or worried.
“Heyo,” Luke sang and plastered a smile on his face. “What’s up?”
Alex walked over to Luke and placed his hand on the top of Luke’s head, as an affectionate pat. Luke stiffened slightly, but Alex fortunately didn’t notice, his gaze on the coffee table Luke had moved to the center of the studio. “Is there a reason you moved that, or?”
“What do you mean?” Luke joked, standing up so that he could get Alex’s hand off of him as casually as possible (but c’mon, really? He was craving physical affection but also couldn’t handle it? No fair). “You don’t think a random table in the middle of our rehearsal space isn’t the best interior design decision?” He forced a laugh. “Nah, I moved it because I thought I dropped something under it,” he said, delivering the lie he came up with when he first moved the table. “Help me put it back?”
“You’re lucky I love you,” Alex said with a groan, his tone teasing rather than cruel. The two of them grabbed an end and moved it back to where it was supposed to go. As the two of them stood up straight, Luke noticed the rest of the band wander in. With a quick look at the clock, Luke realized that they were all here five minutes early, which could mean that practice could end earlier, and then he could just starfish on the couch for the rest of the night and hope that maybe in the morning everything would be okay.
Luke jumped up and started rehearsal, continuing to pretend everything was fine and dandy, and like the guitar strap wasn’t uncomfortable on his body. But then during practice, it was like Julie and Reggie made an effort to give him some casual affection at least once every song each. Normally Luke would love it, would love the closeness with those two, but each squeeze of the shoulder and brush of arms set his nerves on fire. By the time rehearsal ended, Luke desperately needed to just be left alone for a bit. Maybe he could get acquainted with the cold floor in the bathroom.
“--thinkin’ go out and get ice cream tonight?” Reggie said, and Luke zoned back in, paying attention to the conversation. “Are you good with that?” He side-hugged Luke, and this time Luke couldn’t help the flinch at the feeling of the leather on his arms. Reggie hastily moved away, and Luke caught the way his face fell and felt his own heart drop.
“Luke..?” Julie asked slowly, moving in front of him but making no effort to reach out. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
Luke nodded once before shaking his head, feeling the heat behind his eyes and the ache in his throat that meant that the waterworks were coming. “I’ll be fine though,” he said quickly, his voice breaking in the middle of it. He felt the tears pool up, and he shoved the heels of his hands into his eyes. Everything would’ve been fine if Julie hadn’t asked, but he also couldn’t blame her for checking on him.
“Hey now, none of that,” he heard Bobby say from his left. “Luke, darlin’, I won’t touch you, but can you sit down?”
Luke shook his head again, removing his hands from his eyes but squeezing them shut. His hands were at his sides, though he kept rubbing his index fingers against his thumbs. “It’s too much-- I can’t-- It’s too much, and everything feels sticky, or wrong, or scratchy, and I want a hug so much, but it’s so, so bad.” He stuttered out a breath and started hiccuping as the tears ran rivers down his cheeks.
“Okay, okay,” Bobby shushed. “I need you to breathe, okay? One nod for you’re good, none if you need me to count.” Luke nodded once and immediately took in a quick breath. “Okay, good. Do you want to stay like this, or do you want to try and problem solve? Nod once if you’re good, twice if you wanna brainstorm.” Luke hesitated but nodded twice. “Alright Lu, is this like how you feel if you don’t shower before bed?”
Luke shrugged, then winced when it moved the sleeve of his shirt. “Kinda?” he said. “But worse ‘cause everything is bad, and it’s kinda better when I lay down, but now it’s worse.” He opened up his eyes to look at Bobby. The other three had left, and Luke honestly couldn’t remember if he heard them leave. There was a slight pang in his chest when he realized that he really missed them already, but he was also kinda glad that Bobby was the only one to see him like this.
Bobby smiled at him. “There you are. Do you wanna try and shower? I’ve got about fifteen of your cutoffs with varying fabric feels and probably five different types of pants.”
Luke frowned for a moment before scrunching his face up and then relaxing it. “Sure?”
Bobby gave him a soft look; honestly one of the softest looks Luke had seen on his face in a long while. He nodded. “I’ll go grab those, and you go shower, ‘kay sweetheart?”
Luke snorted. “You’re turning into Lexi with all the ‘okay’s.”
“Not the worst thing to happen to me, so thanks,” Bobby replied. “Okay,” he paused with a glint in his eye, “I’m gonna get you a towel and all the clothes I can find. Are you gonna be okay alone, or do you want me to send one of the others in?”
Luke frowned. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I’m not saying you do, sweetheart, but you’ve looked at me three times in the past minute like you wanted cuddles, and when you want cuddles, you also don’t wanna be left alone.”
“I’ll be fine, Bee,” Luke said. “But if you wanna chill in the bathroom, I wouldn’t mind company when you get back.”
Bobby looked at him for another moment and must’ve seen whatever he needed to see to be able to leave the studio.
Luke walked over to the bathroom and turned on the shower to warm, or at least the general area where the comfortable temperature was. They tended not to use the shower, but kept it stocked for the nights that the guys ended up staying late or sleeping there. Most of the stuff was Luke’s anyway since he was the most frequent user, but some of Julie’s and Reggie’s things were also scattered around the shelves.
Luke stripped down and got in the shower, and it was still kind of uncomfortable, what with the water making his skin awkwardly stick to itself, but less than being out in the open was. He grabbed the bar of soap, and instead of lathering it in his hands, he just got it wet and rubbed it over his body, letting it get all soapy there instead. He dunked his head under the water and immediately groaned at the way the hair stuck to the back of his neck.
“You okay, Lu?” Bobby asked and Luke startled.
“When did you get back here?” Luke peeked around the curtain. Bobby had a pile of clothes in his hand, with the towel on top.
“Literally just now. You good?”
“I hate my hair,” Luke groaned, tilting his head back because it was mostly fine when it was constantly getting wet.
“I’ll have Julie grab a headband if you want?”
Luke nodded before he realized that one, Bobby couldn’t see him, and two, he was getting water on his face. “Would you?”
“I’ll be back in a sec,” was his response. Luke turned the water up hotter, and relaxed a bit. He still felt weird, but it was incrementally getting less and less overwhelming. He shampooed his hair, rinsed it out, and then grabbed the conditioner and let it sit in his hair while he stood in the shower, letting the water soothe some of the remaining unease still locked in his chest.
Luke heard the door open, and as though the dam had been broken, Luke knew all he wanted now was a hug. “Bobbers?” he asked.
“Babe?” Bobby replied.
“I wanna hug.”
“Well then rinse off, dry off, and get out of the shower, ‘kay love?”
Luke did just that, rinsing out his hair and turning the water off. He held a hand out for the towel and rubbed it all over his body as efficiently as he could before wrapping it around himself, yanking the shower curtain open, and nearly falling into Bobby’s arms. It wasn’t perfect, but it was as good as Luke could get for now, and that was what he needed. Bobby had him. Luke barely even recognized he was crying until he noticed the way that Bobby hummed. It was the tune he came up with one of the nights that Luke had given up on sleeping at his house and biked over to Bobby’s, curled up in his arms, safe and sound from the shit that liked to envelope his brain and heart. As Luke stayed in Bobby’s arms, the sticky-scratchy-wrong feeling lessened, and he felt himself turning into a puddle of himself, a wave of sleepiness washing over him.
“Bedtime?” Bobby asked quietly. Luke hummed in response, nodding his head. “Let’s get you dressed and ready, yeah?” Luke nodded again and slowly dislodged himself from Bobby’s arms. Bobby grabbed the shirts from the counter and held them out one at a time for Luke to check and feel. The fourth one felt comfortable enough, so Luke pulled it over his head. Bobby did the same for the pants.
By the time Luke got dressed, he was totally wiped. He stumbled out of the bathroom, Bobby directing him towards the pullout that had a sheet over it. The corners were nicely tucked, which meant it was the work of Julie, and there was an actual pillow, as well as a couple of blankets along the side. “Remind me to thank her later, please?” he mumbled.
“Course.”
Luke plopped onto the bed and reached out for the blanket he trusted to not drive him nuts. It was the same material the entire way around and was soft to the touch. He rolled over to his side and looked at Bobby, who was just standing there. “Cuddles?” When Bobby narrowed his eyes in concentration, Luke added, “I promise I’m good.”
Bobby nodded before climbing over him and grabbing a blanket for himself. Luke turned to his other side and threw an arm over Bobby. Bobby’s hand ended up in Luke’s hair, scratching his scalp slightly, lulling Luke to sleep.