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Luke was different that day. He was upset in the subtlest of ways. Ways that would fly straight under most people’s radar. Except for Michael, that is. Michael noticed. Michael always noticed. Whilst he tried not to show it, Luke’s mood was clearly worsening by the minute, and Michael had no idea why. He only knew that Luke never left his cereal unfinished or denied a cheese toastie made by Michael himself. Luke never asked Calum to introduce the majority of the songs due to reasons he wouldn’t specify. Luke never turned down even the smallest of celebrations after a particularly great show, and Luke never excused himself from the rest of the band so quickly.
Michael had been trying for nearly an hour and a half to get Calum and Ashton to head back to the hotel, as far away from the shitty pub they sat in as possible. Any other night, Michael would have been glad to go out and drink with his mates, he would have even suggested it, most likely. Alas, at that moment, Michael wanted- needed- nothing more than to be back at the hotel with Luke. After three more failed attempts, all ending in Calum drunkenly telling him to “sod off and stop worrying,” Michael was fed up with it.
“Get a cab when he stops being an asshole,” Michael stood up, adjusting his leather jacket on his shoulders and handing Ashton a small wad of money. “I’m gonna go.” Michael began walking in the opposite direction than that of his friends.
“Hey, Mike?” Ashton threw his arm out and grabbed Michael’s wrist before he was able to walk too far. “We noticed it too,” He nodded his head toward Calum, implying the dark haired boy was included in the ‘we’ he spoke of. “Kiss him better, will you? No one likes an unhappy Luke. If anyone can cheer him up, it’s you.”
“I’ll try my best, mate. Believe me, I will.” Michael chuckled softly, and Ashton shot him a sympathetic smile before releasing his wrist and taking a sip of the beer bottle that Calum had placed in front of him.
The brisk night air hit Michael’s face hard, and he lowered his head to shield from the cold. He almost regretted giving Ashton all of his cab money, but the hotel was only three blocks away and Michael couldn’t stand another minute in that bar with half the band when Luke was alone. Michael walked quickly, eyes running from the wind. He was stopped only once to take a photo with a very sweet fan outside of a tattoo parlour. She had bright blue hair that suited her well and plastic wrapped around her forearm. When he asked what the new tattoo was, she showed him; a dark mark. Though Michael wasn’t a huge Harry Potter fan, he knew the meaning behind the mark and he complimented her on the tattoo before she confessed she didn’t want to bother him too much and should be on her way. She thanked him and hugged him and was off, seemingly to the same pub he had just exited, and that was it. That was Michael’s only encounter until he finally stepped through the sliding glass doors of the hotel, and he was truly grateful for that. He gave a small smile to the kind-looking young man behind the reception desk, pace quickening with anticipation to be with Luke again.
The twenty second elevator ride to the third floor lasted hours to Michael, his worry increasing with each passing moment. Every possible reason for Luke’s spontaneous sadness ran through Michael’s mind. Had Michael done something wrong? Was it something a fan said? Did something happen at home? Michael’s hands shook more with each possibility. The ding of the elevator reaching its destination momentarily broke Michael from his anxieties. He ran down the hallway, praying for Luke to be okay upon his arrival at their shared hotel room. He dug the key out of his back pocket and inserted it into the lock, turning the knob slowly when the light turned green.
The room was dark when Michael stepped in, the stream of light from the hallway the only thing penetrating the blackness. It took him a panicked moment to find Luke; curled up under the covers on the bed, his back facing Michael.
“Lukey?” Michael called out, tentatively shutting the door behind him and throwing the key somewhere on the floor to be discovered later. Michael didn’t expect a reply, he knew Luke was pretending to be asleep and would never break character so easily. It took Michael longer to untie his boot laces than to actually undress himself, and in about three minutes he was stripped down to his boxers, his clothes lost on the dark floor along with Luke’s. Suddenly very cold due to the lack of layers, Michael hurried to the king sized bed. “Luke,” Michael spoke again, sliding himself under the duvet. “I know you’re awake, babe.” The older boy slung an arm around Luke’s body, tugging on his waist lightly. Luke sighed, and his eyes opened hesitantly.
“Hi, Mikey,” Luke’s voice was barely above a raspy whisper, and his eyes fell closed once more for a few seconds just after he spoke. When he opened them again, Michael’s eyes had adjusted to the low light enough to see they were puffy and tinted red.
“Are you okay?” Michael asked, knowing the answer was No no matter what Luke would reply.
“Yeah,” Luke nodded minimally and smiled falsely at Michael. “I’m fine.”
“Lucas,” Michael sighed, pulling Luke closer to him. “Cut the shit. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Luke began, nuzzling his nose in his boyfriend’s neck, half to feel some sort of security, half to hide his face from Michael whilst he lied to him; he knew Michael saw right through him. “It’s not important.”
“If you’re upset, it’s important to me. Please tell me what’s wrong?” Michael had one arm still wrapped strongly around Luke’s waist and the other pushing a stray hair out of the boy’s bluer-than-the-ocean eyes, before moving lower to comfortingly stroke his cheekbone.
“I just-” Luke exhaled heavily, mentally attempting to compose a coherent sentence. “I’ve been thinking a lot.” He tangled his lanky legs with Michael’s, creating a maze of limbs under the sheets.
“About what?” Michael questioned, though he felt himself close to the answer without needing to say anything. Luke was quiet for a while, deciding if he should tell Michael the truth or not. During Luke’s silence, Michael repositioned the two so Luke’s head rested on Michael’s chest and his hand was pressed firmly to the small of Luke’s back. Luke felt warm. It took him a few minutes, but he eventually felt safe enough in Michael’s arms to ask what had been troubling him. Not just that day, but for years it had bothered him. It just came out more prominently on some days, but there was no denying it was there, nagging in the back of his mind since Year 9. Luke collected himself and decided to blurt it out before he could chicken out again or change his mind and make up some shitty lie. Luke must have opened his mouth and said nothing at least three times before summoning the courage to ask Michael what he had wondered so desperately since he was 15.
“Why did you hate me?” Luke’s words cut through the silence so quickly and so unexpectedly that Michael was almost startled, until he comprehended what was just asked.
“Luke, I-”
“What did I ever do to you?” Luke interrupted before Michael could get two words out. “Was I really so horrible that you couldn’t even stand to look at me without being repulsed?” Now that he had started, Luke couldn’t stop, the words licking off his tongue like fire over coal before he even realised what he was saying. “Why was it so disgusting to you just to be in the same room as me? What did I do wrong?” Despite his best efforts to stop it from happening, Luke’s voice cracked noticeably on the last word, and a silent sob shook his body as he remembered the worst year of his life. Michael was shocked.
“Oh, Lukey,” A surge of guilt pulsed through Michael repeatedly, suddenly absolutely hating himself for making Luke think those things for years. “No, Luke,” Michael tipped Luke’s face back up to his level, his fingers brushing over Luke’s tear stained cheek. “That wasn’t it at all. You weren’t horrible. You didn’t do anything wrong, you never have.” Michael closed his eyes and leaned down to press his forehead to Luke’s, vibrant red mixing with messy blond. “No, no, no, no. Oh, God, no. I’m sorry, Luke, I’m so sorry. I’m such an asshole, oh my God.”
“Why, then? Why did you despise me so much for a whole year?” Luke nudged Michael’s cheek with his nose, indicating that he wanted the other boy to look at him. Michael obliged, but immediately wished he hadn’t. The look on Luke’s face was something Michael hoped to never see again. He looked so small, so helpless, so puzzled, but most of all, he looked hurt. Luke looked as hurt as he’d used to look in freshman year.
“I-” Michael’s words caught in his throat, so much of him trying to push the confession back down, as far away from Luke’s ears as possible. Somewhere in his mind, Michael knew Luke deserved to know, especially after all those years, and he got his words back eventually. “I never hated you. Not really. What real reason would I have to hate you? It was just my own selfish denial that won me over in the end.” Michael feared he wasn’t making sense, and his suspicion had proven correct when Luke cocked an eyebrow in confusion and nodded for him to continue. “I just- I- I mean, we all- I-” Michael took a long moment to collect himself and his thoughts, and Luke took Michael’s hand in his own and squeezed, telling Michael that everything was okay. He sighed and began speaking again. “Since the very first day of Year 9, since the moment I first saw you in the hall, I felt something. I thought it was just the freshman jitters at first, but when it lingered for weeks after school had started, I got worried. I thought you were gorgeous. I think I fell in love with you then.” The waver in Michael’s voice lessened with each word, glad to finally tell Luke of his high school idiocy.
“Why were you so mean, then?” Luke questioned seriously, though he couldn’t help the deep blush creeping up his chest and around his neck.
“I was confused,” Michael played mindlessly with the back of Luke’s hair, continuing his explanation surprisingly nonchalantly. “I didn’t think it was okay for me to feel that way about another boy back then. I mean, we went to a Christian school for fuck’s sake. I thought it was so wrong, the way I felt about you. I decided I had to rid myself of these feelings I thought I shouldn’t’ve been having. I thought that if I was a complete and total dick to you, maybe I’d start hating you for real, and that would replace the love, though I soon saw that wasn’t going to happen. I kept up the act for as long as I’d let myself. I couldn’t accept that I liked boys. I wish I had known back then. That it was okay. I wish I had known that it was okay to love a boy named Luke Hemmings. Because I still love ‘im to this day, and I can’t think of any day I would ever stop. I wish I could go back and tell myself that. That I am so fucking lucky to love a boy named Luke Hemmings.”
Michael smiled at Luke with content relief, floating in the freedom of his own foolish weight being lifted off his chest. It undoubtedly took a minute for all this to sink into Luke’s mind, and his lack of response led Michael to worriedly believe he had said something he shouldn’t have. Michael was so close to apologizing for being dumb and jumping out the window in all his shame when the gears finally clicked into place. Luke unexpectedly grabbed his face, pulling their lips together with so much force it knocked the wind straight out of them both. Michael’s mind soon caught up with his mouth and he desperately kissed the younger boy back, happily drowning in a sea of love and relief. The kiss started sweet, yet it deepened with passion, and the two teenagers were absolutely euphoric. Michael unlocked his hand from Luke’s to reunite it with his opposite, both arms pressing into Luke’s bare back, pulling him impossibly closer to Michael’s body. Luke moved his recently freed hand to Michael’s fluorescent hair, yanking handfuls of it each time he felt Michael’s tongue run over his lip ring. After a few more seconds, Luke was the first to need air (he always was), and he pulled away delicately, tugging Michael’s bottom lip softly between his teeth.
“I love you so fucking much, Michael Clifford.” Luke exhaled heavily, collapsing half on top of Michael, his arms snaking around his boyfriend and his face pressing into Michael’s neck. Michael felt the edges of Luke’s lips curl into a smile on his skin, and he traced circles onto the prominent biceps of the taller boy cuddled up to him. They stayed like that for quite a while.
“I’m sorry,” Michael whispered into Luke’s hair, mostly expecting not to be heard.
“What for?” Luke mumbled sleepily, tilting his head up to nudge Michael’s jaw with his nose.
“For being a complete fucker in Year 9.”
“Michael, you don’t need to apol-”
“No. I do. I’m sorry, Luke. I shouldn’t have made you feel so badly. It was the shittiest possible thing I could have done. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for making you think it was your fault, think that you had done something wrong, for years. It wasn’t your fault, Lukey, nothing was. It was all my fault. I’m so sorry. I just hope you can forgive me for it.” Michael sighed, mentally counting the ceiling tiles to avoid Luke’s stare.
“Michael,” Luke slid up a bit to be at eye level with Michael, and he tilted the red haired boy’s chin with his index finger, wanting Michael to look at him again. “I forgave you the day I joined this band. The day I first met you. The real you, not the boy from school who called me names. I met Michael Clifford when I walked into his garage for the first practice that day, and by the time I walked out, I knew I was in love with him.” Luke pressed his mouth slowly to Michael’s, pulling away only seconds later to smile reassuringly at him.
“How did I get so lucky?” Michael mumbled, mostly to himself, and kissed Luke again. That was how they remained for the rest of the night; kissing until they fell asleep with smiles on their faces and bruises on their necks.