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Luke was fifteen when he was kind of, sort of sure that he wasn't really like other kids. He already knew that he wasn't really "normal" when he was in primary school and handed in drawings of two boys at the altar when asked about a dream life, but this was a whole new level of different. This was feeling like he really wasn't wired right, like there was a fault in his code. This was lying and faking and hands shaking and eyes watering behind closed doors after parties and verbal probing from his brothers.
He remembers sitting at lunch with Calum and Michael who were talking about girls and boys and everybody else. He remembers Michael talking about experiences of hands down pants and hot desperate drunk kisses and Calum listening so intently. He remembers Michael getting Calum riled up over something about someone moaning and who they have to fuck before graduation and thinking it was the most obscure shit ever. Luke remembers it feeling very off putting and uncomfortable like when you get water up your nose. He remembers his shoulders tensing up and trying to shrink in on himself.
He vivdly remembers when they all met up at the park and Calum had brought these magazines and video tapes that he had found in a box his dad kept hidden away in their garage. Luke didn't understand why he and Michael were drooling over the pictures and whatever else was inside and he certainly didn't understand being so uninterested and disconnected and nervous. Michael had asked him if he wanted to see, if he was okay and Luke's anxiety was sky high and he was definitely not okay but he remembers playing it off as just not wanting to get caught.
Luke knew there was extremely, definitely sure that he wasn't really like the other kids, that he was super different (the back of his mind told him to say wrong instead of different but Luke thinks no, no, no that can't be right...right?) when he was at Skylar Evans' New Year Party. He shouldn't have even been there and he's not quite sure why he was or why half of the student body was either. The music was too loud and everyone was too young and too drunk and Michael and Calum were lost in the sea of people. He'd started to thank his lucky stars when a seemingly sweet boy came up and started talking to him until talking turned to dancing which turned into grinding and trying to kiss Luke with all too much tongue.
Luke's knees were knocking by the time he got the boy off of him, mumbling a string of apologies and taking the hour long walk home because he didn't want to be around people when he was this anxious. He didn't want to think about why he was anxious or why he thought he was going to throw up or break down at any moment. He didn't want to think about how something was wrong with him or how the air was so thick in his world he felt like he was choking and suffocating on it. The walk home is blurry and he feels like the ground he's walking on is tearing apart beneath him.
He walked through his door with a stinging sensation on his face and blotchy cheeks, trying to be as quiet as he possibly can be because whatever is going on is only going to get worse when more people get involved. He held his breath all the way to his room until his back is pressed up against his closed door.
His world was spinning and he was so out of it and he just wanted to fucking sleep but he couldn't because what the fuck was wrong with him?
He vaguely remembers opening his laptop and starting to research for god knows how long in god knows what mental state. He doesn't remember much about that night but one thing he remembers his how he stopped breathing for a solid ten seconds when he found an article on how most people start feeling sexual attraction at age ten and he's pretty sure he's never felt it in his entire life. He recalls his blood running cold and his stomach dropping and he's never going to shake that bone chilling feeling of being alone no matter how many times he or someone else tells him there's nothing wrong with him.
Somehow Luke had come across a word – asexuality- and he was confused and scared because he thought maybe it made sense but still. If societies suffocating him with sex is it really okay? Is he okay? His chest felt so tight and he started crying and panicking and then he's not sure what he remembers.
Luke's friend Ashton, however, will always remember the phone call he got from Luke at four a.m., hearing the other boy sobbing and spewing out words so fast Ashton couldn't even comprehend what they were. He recalls catching Luke saying that he didn't want to do this and that he couldn't do this and that he thinks something's wrong with him, he recalls the way he cried and bargained with nobody for this to not be happening. Luke tells Ashton that night that he is scared he is "so fucking scared".
Once he had slowed his friend's breathing he finally got the entire story through hiccups and big tears rolling down the younger boy's face. He tells Ashton about the party and the tight chest feeling and the shakiness and the article swallowing down the cries that keep trying to climb up his throat. He spilled his worries and wariness out to him, explained that he doesn't know if this is right, he doesn't even know anyone asexual which just confuses him more. But then Ashton opened the curtains of Luke's world a little and lets the light shine through.
He asked Luke if he knew Alex and of course, Luke knows Alex. Granted, not all that well, but he knew him. He worked at the music shop, he was the one who sold luke his current guitar and helps him fix the strings whenever they break for half the normal cost. When Ashton told Luke that Alex was asexual he remembers being asked at least four times in a row if he was really sure and the silent smile from Luke's end.
"You know this is okay. It's alright, Luke. It's not wrong, you're not fucked up or whatever. Sex just isn't a thing for you, no big deal. And all those threads on forums about relationships failing over being ace isn't a set in stone, universal thing. It's kind of a misrepresentation. Like, Alex is with jack who's one of the most sexual people on the planet and, yeah, sometimes it gets rough for them but it's never really split them apart. They've been together for, what, three, four years now? You'll find a boy who will love the hell out of you and not care about sex, at least in my personal opinion. If you don't it's not the end of the world no matter what anyone or society tries drilling into your skull." Ashton had said to Luke and Luke had never been more thankful for his friend in his entire life, he thinks.
He thanked Ashton a good ten times that night and he still swears to this day that he owes him but all Luke gets in reply is that he doesn't owe him anything because "knowing I helped you and that you felt safe enough to come to me about that is way more than enough". Ashton Irwin awarded best friend award for that year and forever on.
Two years later, Luke's seventeen, three and a half months to eighteen, closer to Alex and even Jack than ever and feeling a little bit better. He still hadn't struck gold in the boyfriend department yet, only having two boyfriends who had lasted two weeks or so; one because he was in an experimenting phase and the other because he wanted to get into Luke's pants which did not happen.
He had had a third when he was vaguely younger, named Lane, who lasted about four and a half months. Four and a half months of him saying "yeah, yeah you're asexual. It's not that big of a deal, whatever. Promise, babe." and brushing it off until Luke had apparently denied sex so many times Lane gave up and went somewhere else to find it. Or, a couple somewheres on multiple occasions, actually. Luke remembers crying a lot on too many shoulders and feeling so not okay that Ashton had to physically lift him out of bed a couple days and help him out. Luke likes to think he's okay though.
However, Luke's still not really out. Obviously Ashton knows, Jack and Alex know, and a few other people here and there but other than that everyone stuck to assuming Luke's not interested in sex or talking about it; which isn't wrong but there's a bit more to it than that.
And Luke's had a not so small thing for Michael Clifford for roughly a year, post-Lane. Luke Hemmings who is so severely asexual having a gigantic romantic attraction towards the most allosexual person he's ever come encounter with besides Calum and Jack. Luke swore the universe had a vendetta against him, swore his luck was so fucking bad. At least until a month later when Michael kisses Luke during a late night movie marathon session under the fairy lights and blankets and asks him to be his boyfriend. Luke may have absolutely definitely cried a little because Michael has "loved him for what seems like forever." and he swears his heart is gonna jump right out of his chest as Michael holds his hands.
Luke also cries a little later on because he knows this probably isn't going to work out – he's not even out to Michael and has no idea when to tell him now, he's too scared – and the thought of disappointing the beautiful boy who he loves him so much or making him run away is much too nerve-wracking.
He means to tell Michael (Calum and, well, everyone as well but Michael's higher on the list), he really truly does. He just doesn't have thick enough skin yet and he doesn't want to the other boy and their little seemingly untouchable world that they're in now so he can't bring himself to do it soon enough. He knows this is bad, he does.
The next thirty-nine days are full of things that Luke loves and reciprocates back like hand holding and cuddling and kisses and two a.m. "i really like you's" because they're pretty sure they can't tell one another how much they love one another this early on. However they're also full of things Luke is significantly less thrilled about and things that make him uncomfortable and things he just can't reciprocate no matter how hard he tries like the way Michael grinds on Luke a bit. Or how he'll sometimes nibble on his ear and ask him if it makes him feel good, which no, no it does not it does not make Luke feel anything especially not good. He tries to play it off for as long as he can but eventually he just can't and he knows this is all his fault and this isn't healthy but he just, can't. He can't do anything.
That's how they get into this situation, you could say its their first big fight because it does indeed feel very big. The two were at Michael's house on his bed with Luke on Michael's lap, who started to rub circles into his hips with the pads of his fingers which is cute and Luke thinks it's just Michael trying to help him relax which he thinks is so, so sweet. But then Michael starts sucking on his neck and Luke stiffens and he starts to feel nauseous and oh god, no. He wracks through his mind of what to do and eventually he gets up and mumbles an excuse that he can't even remember anymore. Somehow, Michael gets upset and it escalates and now the two stand on opposite sides of the room facing each other, armed with loud voices and harsh words.
"Why do you always do that, huh?" Michael questions, standing stiff with his arms by his side and his hands balled into fists.
"Do what?" Luke's slightly shaking and he's pretty sure if his nerves were wires he'd be short circuiting and spewing out sparks but he just hopes and prays he can play this off because he's not ready. He's not ready to come clean especially not like this and he can't believe the words coming out of his mouth and he can't believe he's fucked this up so bad.
"Luke, don't play dumb, okay. You think I don't see how you act? How you get all weird when I get touchier with you and you never act the same way back? I get being nervous or uncomfortable but I've always said to just tell me if we need to go slower, which you've never done. So, just, what is it, huh? Do you not love me or?"
"Michael no, no it's not like that I swear-"
"So what's it like then?"
"I swear I love you, I just, I'm not sexually attracted to you-"
"Oh, yeah good one Luke because that makes it so much better."
"It's because I'm asexual! Alright Michael is that what you wanted? And not the kind where I can impregnate myself, it's an actual thing but you probably don't know about it because there's about zero representation for it and I meant to tell...you...oh, oh god, no...I-I..." Luke's breath is caught in his chest and he went from seeing the world in red to seeing it blurred by tears because he realizes what he just said to Michael and Michael looks horrified or disgusted or something Luke can't make out but can only imagine is so bad.
He wants to fix this immediately but he can't breathe and he can't speak and he feels like he's frozen, backed up on Michael's bed and he's not sure what's happening but at one point he makes out Michael leaving the room and closing the door. He makes his knees giving out on him, he scrambles to clutch his pillows and covers so close so he can keep hold of the way Michael smells and not think about what's going on, not think about Michael leaving because he fucked up so bad and made such an ugly mess. He's not sure when he starts truly crying – which turns out to be more like heavy sobbing – but he knows he can't stop and it hurts.
After two hours Luke isn't sobbing anymore but he's still kind of crying, like dry heaving almost but in tear form, and he has no idea what's happening or where he and Michael stand anymore. He's practically convinced of two things, one, this fucking sucks and two, Michael hates him and this relationship is going down in flames faster than when Luke tried cooking a midnight snack for both of them and accidentally set the frying pan on fire. Luke's so tired, like, so extremely tired but he can't sleep because it's definitely not okay to sleep in your probably-ex-boyfriend's bed after having what he assumes is a world record breaking fight. He knows he should have told Michael sooner. He knows, he knows, he knows.
Luke is too caught up in thinking that he doesn't notice another person's presence until the bed dips down and there's a blue light which is awfully reminiscent of a laptop screen glow. And there's someone tapping on his shoulder? He looks up and his breath hitches because Michael is sitting next to him with his shitty mac-book air that he always swore was so hipster-esque but still uses, like, every day. He almost looks like hes trying to avoid touching Luke which makes the blond boy's heart break more than he'd like to admit. It almost makes him cry again because is he really that disgusting and strange now to Michael that he doesn't even want to touch him anymore but then Michael starts talking and quiets the crashing train of Luke's thoughts.
"I, uh, you...you were right, I had no fucking glue what asexuality was so, I went online and did some digging because if my boyfriend identifies as it than I should know what it is, yeah?" Michael's voice is quiet and gentle and Luke isn't sure he's breathing and he's so flabbergasted Michael doesn't want to kill him with his bare hands in this moment and that he still loves him. He's blown away and he is so guilty good god in heaven. He can't believe Michael is actually the sweetest boy in the world who would go and do research for the significant other he just had a massive fight with.
"And...god, Jesus fucking Christ, Luke. So many people were saying it felt like it was their fault for their partner's unhappiness because they couldn't give them a thing as basic as sex? That they felt broken and suffocated and all these horrible things? I'm so, so sorry about what I said to you, oh my god, my sweet boy, I'm sure it doesn't help with those broken feelings. I, can I hug you, Luke? Like, I read that when you get into a relationship with someone who's asexual that you should go over what physical contact they like and all that shit. I know we didn't do that but we're going to, we're going to make this work because I love you so much but right now I think I really need to hug you but I don't want t-"
Luke isn't sure he's really listening to Michael's endearing, loving rambling and is just so relieved because Michael doesn't hate him, and my god. Luke isn't sure how he gets from one situation to another but he's crying and he cuts Michael off by basically throwing himself at the older boy. Michael is holding him so close, so much tighter than ever before, rubbing his back whilst whispering sweet nothings and promising Luke galaxies and universes into his blonde hair.
He thinks neither of them are quite sure how long they stay like that – Luke burying his face in the crook of Michael's neck and Michael holding his head and tracing shapes on his back with the other hand. Though, eventually, Michael pulls away a bit and hunches down just the slightest bit to be at Luke's eye level, smiling at him.
"So, I was thinking," Michael breaks the silence and takes Luke's hands in his "we could go downstairs, I could make us some snacks, and we could talk boundaries and anything you can tell me to help me understand or anything you want to tell me. And, of course, we can put some music on too, if you'd like."
The younger laughs lightly and pulls his hand away from Michael's so he can wipe his tears and probably end up getting gross snot on his sleeves. He's aware he looks like a wreck with tear stained, blotchy cheeks and his light hair sticking up in four hundred different directions and he's not really sure he wants Michael to see him in brighter light but this is important so he nods, agreeing.
When Luke stands up at first, he almost falls over – which, to be fair, isn't really uncommon for someone who's been laying down crying for a while – but Michael's quick to grab onto him and steady him so he doesn't fall and sprain something. Thinking about it, Michael's kind of always been that person who keeps Luke on his feet, which will probably pan out to be some metaphorical philosophical shit in the future. Luke feels like he goes temporarily blind once he steps out of the room and into the hallway and almost falls down the stairs too by tripping over his own feet because he's too busy adjusting to the light to see where he's going. Thankfully, he adverted that crisis without the help of Michael considering if Michael had to help him twice he might die of embarrassment; not that there's many embarrassing things left that he has yet to do in front of his boyfriend.
Michael leads them down the stairs into the kitchen that's surprisingly clean for the image that Michael has. He doesn't particularly look like the kind of guy to clean regularly, though sometimes he does forget, or make sure no food gets left out to mold or do many hygienic things in general.
But then, you spend a few days with Michael and you see him wash his hands about four to nine times a day and you're like, "Wow, I guess punk rock looking guys actually believe in brushing their teeth and sometimes even light candles and spray some really pretty air freshener". Granted, Michael probably wouldn't admit to the last bit of that due to not wanting to "ruin his rock star image" and Luke doesn't really get that, but that's okay.
After all, if people knew everything about each other than conversation would most likely be just as fun as watching the ugliest shade of yellow paint dry but with a bonus of holding hands and Luke really, really doesn't want that. Like, no. He's not giving up three a.m. talks about random topics and facts on the other person, or people, for some ugly pigment that his old grade school teacher probably used. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
He also wouldn't give up Michael surprising him when they get to the kitchen by lifting him up onto the island in the middle. Conveniently, across from what the red headed boy calls the "supreme cooking station" even though, in reality, it's just a stove and microwave and four cupboards with an obscene variety of food. But since Michael had spent a decent amount of his childhood making only microwavable things he was now highly appreciative and in awe of any other appliance that's not a microwave. Luke thinks it's quite endearing and cute and he honestly just loves Michael's little quirks like that.
He loves when Michael is singing along to a song, air guitar-ing and jumping around looking like a rock star and looking so alive and bright Luke swears he's almost emitting actual sun rays. He loves and is severely intrigued over how Michael refuses to have the same hair colour for more than four-ish months; if he gets to around four-ish months with one colour he'll dye it no matter the circumstances. He really loves the days that Michael walks around in a leather jacket and pointed shoes and reminds Luke so much of Matty Healy and make him smile oh so much. On those days Michael makes his heart swell even more it almost hurts because he's just so gorgeous.
Luke's pretty sure the other boy has caught onto his fondness of such, considering those shoes are showing up more frequently and when he asked Michael about it he said that Luke was pretty when he was smiling but he was even prettier when he was smiling and blushing at Michael. The blue eyed boy ended up being reduced stutters and warm, pink tinted cheeks and basically turned into a puddle of emotions.
A cup of what looks like Michael's world-famous hot chocolate and his phone is slid over to Luke who's momentarily confused as to why Michael, the person who never really lets people use his phone unless it's an emergency, is giving it to Luke out of the blue until he remembers the comment about putting music on. After a little less than ten minutes, he's made a playlist of acoustic and quiet songs to have playing in the background just to make sure nothing loud comes on; it doesn't really feel right to Luke to be having a heartfelt conversation and then be interrupted by some punk vocalist more or less yelling about hating their old, shitty town. He taps the play button and swings his legs a bit, extremely pleased with the beginning of an acoustic State Champs song.
When Luke looks up, he's kind of hoping and maybe even expecting his blue eyes to meet with green ones but the only thing they meet with is the dark fabric of Michael's t-shirt on his back because his life is quite a few things short of a fairy tale. And because if Michael were to get too distracted from cooking, the house would probably go down in flames, or, at least the kitchen would. Luke's just sure that something would be on fire.
Though eventually, Michael does turn around and Luke breaks out into such a big smile. His boyfriend is so cheesy in more ways than one right now because he's made Luke and himself cheese toasties which are the blonde boy's absolute favourite food ever. He recalls mentioning it to Michael in passing, unimportant conversation so it does mean a lot that he remembered.
"Oh my god..." Luke sighs happily as he takes the first bite of his sandwich, teeth sinking into warm, cheese-y heaven.
Michael slides onto a stool in front of him, laughing before he takes a bite out of his own food, "I was gonna ask if I really did that good but I think I just answered my own question. You know, this might just be the best thing I've ever made. And this might be the best playlist you've ever made."
Luke smiles at Michael, mumbling a thank you with a red tint on his cheeks. To be fair, Michael's not all that wrong and Luke is a little too proud with that fact. They eat in silence, apart from a few of their looks at one another that caused them to burst into laughter and maybe, just maybe Michael almost blew water out of his nose.
Luke's shoving crumbs around his plate with his fork when Michael speaks up, "So, boundaries and stuff..." He reaches for Luke's hands, lacing his fingers together with the blonde boy's, a small smile resting on his lips.
"Yeah um...So like, hand holding and cuddles and hugs are great. And cheek and forehead and wherever kisses are cute too, really cute. When it comes to actually kissing or whatever I think I'm still alright with that; just no tongue? I don't know it just freaks me out. And inherently sexual touches are a no." He shrugs his shoulders, he's nervous talking about this even though he knows he shouldn't be because it's Michael and Michael loves him and accepts him but he just is.
"Is like the hip rubbing thing I was doing earlier alright? If not that's okay, obviously! I don't wanna make you uncomfortable." Michael's playing with Luke's fingers and drawing in the palm of his hands, he loves him so much.
"I think so, it was cute. But the grinding and sucking on my neck wasn't all that much, sorry."
Michael makes a face at Luke, "Don't be sorry, you have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable and if I do it again you have my full permission to yell at me a little. Is there anything else?"
"If we could, like, not talk about sexual stuff that'd be cool. It just makes me really anxious and shaky and shit. I get all uncomfortable and then I can't relate and it messes with my head, I guess. I think that's it but if I remember anything else I'll let you know, yeah?" Luke says and he swears Michael's never payed this much attention to anything before.
"So sex talk is out forehead kisses are super in, sounds great, babe." Michael beams at Luke, his nose scrunching a bit before lifting his hands up to his mouth and pressing soft kisses on them. Luke tells Michael to stop because he's gonna start crying again, even though this time would be happy tears. He also tells Michael how sorry he is that he didn't tell him sooner but Michael's quick to hush him, he knows what it's like to be scared and not thinking straight and hiding secrets when it comes to sexuality.
They stay up talking until their eyes hurt and they can hardly sit up right anymore and Luke has no fucking idea when they go to sleep or how Michael carried him from the kitchen back to his bedroom. When he wakes up he is safe, with Michael, and he's happy (still with Michael).
Over the course of the next six or so months things get better and better and Luke talks more to Michael and an alarming amount of others about his asexuality and asexuality in general. He's glad he gets to add commentary and elaborate more on living life with the dark grey smoke of sexuality shoved down your throat by society when you don't relate at all to it. Sometimes it really does feel like suffocating, you get that panic that settles deep into your chest and things just get worse and worse. But, of course, it's different for everyone.
Everything's good, great even, and Luke gets the opportunity to speak at a pride rally about it and he feels like everything is amazing. Michael smiles at him from side stage the entire time and they stand together answering people's questions after for a decent thirty minutes. There were some not-so-entertained faces in the crowd but Luke doesn't care. Luke is fucking blown away afterwards because how in the world did people get knowledge from him and it's just this amazing big thing. It's this big amazing thing that leaves a huge amazing feeling of happiness and serenity settled in Luke's heart.
A few days later he's walking down the street with Ashley, a girl he met at the rally who's bisexual and aromantic and who has the coolest fucking hair ever and he still feels good. They're taking the weekend to hang out together and have a silly sleepover to plan their co-hosted aromantic and asexual speech they're supposed to give in two weeks. Luke loves Ashley, like, she truly does not give a single fuck about anything and it's one of the best things Luke's ever known in his life and he thinks when her and Michael are paired together they're just about the most stubborn, headstrong group of two ever.
On the way into a coffee shop, a couple of boys start yelling sexual, disrespectful nonsense at them and Luke tries to avoid it best as he can and tries not think about it once they're safe inside which almost works until upon exit, they're still out there. Luke's getting dizzy and he's pretty sure he's about to drop his fucking coffee as one of them starts yelling at them about what wastes of pretty bodies they are because they don't work. He can't make out any of his surroundings except for Ashley's hand on his back guiding him down the street and into a cab. He hates this, he hates this so much, he wants to be anywhere but here he wants to be with Michael. He thinks he sees Ashley slide the driver a fiver to lock the doors and windows and go a little bit above the speed limit to take them to their next destination.
"You alright, Luke?" she asks him, concern written across her face and no, no Luke is not okay at least doesn't think he is. Luke's pretty sure he's not okay nor is he even a real person right now, he's probably, like, eighty percent anxiety, fifteen percent extreme shit-your-pants fear and maybe five percent living, breathing (sort of), human. The tears pooling in his eyes and the crack in his voice say otherwise but Luke says he's fine as he wipes at his face with his hands. He's fine. He's fine. He's fine, he's fine, he's afraid. He's fine.
Ashley manages to calm him down as much as possible and they (try) to continue on with their busy day, exploring downtown and holding the strangest conversations and coming up with the best of ideas. By the time they're on the train back to the station Luke is so tired he's pretty sure he's decaying slowly and it's a million o'clock at night but he feels so much better. He and Ashley came up with amazing ideas and they're going to absolutely kill this speech and really open people's minds or that's what they hope.
The blue haired girl has such a nice aura around her and is so nice to be around, she's one of those people that could make you snort while you laugh instantly and laugh until you're crying and your stomach hurts. They get off the train laughing and Luke tells Ashley to hold on a second because he has to go clean up in the washroom; also he has to pee so fucking bad. She pinky promises him that she'll wait near the door and she'll text Michael they might be running a little late. What a fucking saint.
Once Luke exists the stall to wash his hands, he hears someone come in but he doesn't think much of it because this is a public bathroom, of course people will be in here. He starts to think something of it when he's pushed away from the sink and up against the wall and staring into brown eyes belonging to one of the boys from earlier today and now Luke recognizes him. Now he realizes he was at the rally making faces with a couple of his friends at Luke's talk but he thinks he can get out of this situation, maybe.
Maybe if he just talks but then Luke can't find his voice and he can't close his eyes and he can't move and all he can do is cry and stare straight forward as he's being yelled at. He feels hands somewhere on him, he thinks he hears something about being "fixed" and the panic in his chest bubbles up so more than ever before and his entire body is shaking and now he's screaming and thrashing as his blood runs cold. He bites his attacker which seems like a good idea until he gets hit in the face and feels his wrist twist definitely not the right way before falling to the ground and hearing the door open and oh my god what the fuck is going on. He thinks he hears Ashley yelling and the sound of someone getting punched and then again and then he's not sure what's going on but he's almost certain he's about to throw up. And oh does he ever, right on the bathroom floor writhing and shaking.
All he can hear is white noise and he's not sure he can see anything but he feels a hand reaching for him and he flinches away so hard he hits his head on the wall. He's crying and he's scared and he's angry that he threw up because what if they needed to swab his mouth if he was going to report this which he might not even do, he doesn't know.
"Luke! Luke, don't worry, you're gonna be okay. It's me, it's Ashley. Like, Ashley Panini or whatever that shit you call me is. C'mon Luke..." Ashley's trying to hold his hands, wincing at her bruised knuckles, and get Luke back but he's so far gone. Luke's so far gone he's in fucking outerspace he feels like he's paralyzed physically and mentally he feels like he's floating and drowning at the same time.
He thinks his body has gone into shock and next thing he knows he's stumbling inside of his and Michael's shared apartment, leaning on Ashley for support and he has truly no clue how he got from one place to the other. He's still dizzy, his world is still spinning and he's still shaky, god he is so shaky. He doesn't want to be touched but he does he wants to be held but he also wants to throw up everywhere, everything is so fucked up right now.
"Shit, you said you guys would be back late but-" Michael walks in casually, or casually until he sees the black eye and bloody nose and swollen wrist his boyfriend has. He practically runs across the floor until he's inches away from Luke, clothes ripped and wrinkled and hair sticking everywhere and smelling like a garbage can, "Oh my god. What the fuck, what happened? Ashley what happened to him?"
"Just go get me a first aid kit if you guys have one, okay? Or whatever resembles one. I need to get him onto this couch."
Luke tries getting as much as the conversation as he can, he makes a mental note that he quite literally owes his life to Ashley right now. He tries speaking but regrets it almost immediately, his throat is dry and raw and his voice keeps cracking. Talking feels like swallowing matches, "I-I'm fine. Just some...assholes."
Luke knows that's a lie. Ashley knows that's a lie.
Michael comes back, handing Ashley bandages and whatever other miscellaneous shit you need for when you get the shit whipped out of you (Luke failed health class, and he probably has a concussion right now so cut him some fucking slack) like it's on fire and he can't get it out of his hands fast enough. He kneels next to Luke on the floor as close to the couch as he can get and goes to reach for Luke's hand which ends up being the wrong thing because Luke flinches again almost just as hard as before. Though he's quick to realize that it's only Michael, he can't stop his bottom lip from quivering and he's not even sure what's causing it right now. The most reasonable solution to Luke seems to be everything.
"Oh my god...Sweetheart...Luke, what...? What happened to you?" Michael asks and Luke can just hear Michael's stress and concern in his voice, he can hear how once Michael gets the answer he is going to blame himself forever.
"It was some...fucking guys from the rally. They were following Ashley and I earlier and then," Luke pauses to take a deep breath and cough, this really messed him up bad, shit, "I went to the bathroom and I guess I have the world's worst luck. One of 'em was there and he hit me and...pushed me up against the wall and...he didn't like, do anything serious just...but thankfully Ashley came in and decked him."
Michael doesn't make Luke finish or go into detail, "Whatever he did to you was serious, Luke. I'm so sorry I wasn't there, god. I'm so, so sorry. But we could report him and fuck him up legally, right?"
"Michael I don't know..." Luke feels scared for some reason, he doesn't know why, he's talking to Michael. His Michael. But everything feels loud and slow and fast and his head hurts.
Michael goes to open his mouth but is cut off by Ashley, cleaning up Luke's bloody nose, "Michael, if he doesn't want to don't make him. Plus, not to like, weigh the decision but they probably won't do shit about it. When I had a...an incident back in February I went right to the precinct and they hardly did anything."
Luke winces as Ashley moves his wrist into the right position to start wrapping it, squeezing Michael's hand a little tighter, "We good, Ash?"
"I mean physically...You've just got a black eye and the bloody nose will go away soon so just ice the eye. And make sure to keep this bandage tight, you didn't fracture your wrist or anything but it sure got twisted or sprained or some shit. And maybe a slight concussion." Ashley nods a little and Michael shoots her a weird face, "Hey I don't have a fucking PhD and it didn't seem like the hospital was the best bet for you guys, alright? Bright lights and people you don't know poking and prodding at you after shit like this isn't ideal, I'm working with experience over here."
She gets up to bring Luke a glass of water, helping him sit up and take sips of it. Luke sees so many black dots as he sits up and he almost asks Ashley if she's sure that's just a black eye or if he's about to go blind. As he drinks, he closes his eyes and in the dark he sees the man's face and he wants to spit his water out and cringe away from the touches on his hand and back but instead he swallows everything down. He pushes the glass away and pushes himself into a corner of the couch, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He feels like everything is going fast but also really, really slow and he's overstimulated but numb and there's this unsettling feeling coming up behind him, wrapping itself around him.
"Luke? Luke, are you okay?" Michael's voice comes onto him like a wave of cold water that leaves him blinking and trying to refocus on everything.
"I...I think so? Maybe?" Luke bites at one of his nails, a bad habit from childhood returning rapidly. He knows Ashley and Michael are staring at him, he knows their worried, he can feel their gaze on him and it feels like they're boring holes into him. They sit in silence, staring at the wall, staring at each other, staring at Luke and he can't take it anymore so he speaks up again.
"I didn't deserve it right? Like...he wasn't right was he? And like, I don't know, is how I'm feeling wrong? It could have been so much worse but..."
This time, Michael waits for Luke's okay to go hold his hand, bringing it up to his face, "Luke. you did not do anything that made you deserve this, you did not deserve this. Anyone who does something like this to someone is incredibly wrong about everything in every way."
"And, yeah, it could have been worse, it has been worse for other people. But that doesn't mean you don't get to be upset, that your feelings aren't valid and that what you went through today wasn't scary. But if you ever need either of us, Michael's here and I am just a phone call away, pinky fucking promise." Ashley adds. Luke doesn't want to cry, he's so tired of being hot and cold and being numb one minute and then crying the next but he's definitely about to lose it. He's sniffling and probably snotting all over the place because he's safe even if he doesn't feel like he is and he has people who love him and accept him.
The rest of the weekend is a roller coaster of hand holding and throwing up and diets of only crackers for a day or two because if Luke eats anything else he's almost positive he's going to hurl it. Sometimes, Luke still feels hands on him or sees eyes staring at him when he closes his eyes and he screams and he hides. Sometimes he can be helped and other times he has to ride it out and sometimes he can be held and sometimes he can't be touched for hours. It takes Luke a long, long time to realize that it's not his fault and relearn that he isn't fucked up and there are so many nights where he cries to Michael, apologizing profusely about not working. Where he balls up his hands into fists and curses his own body. Those are not good nights.
Luke is hell bent like no other on finishing planning the speech and going through with it – granted he has to have Michael and Ashley by his side at all times during the event and alone travel isn't a thing he does anymore – he wants to do it so bad. Once he gets it done and over with, he's so glad they did their co-speech. They talk about changing society and being more inclusive of asexual and aromantic people and the representation (read: lack of thereof) in the media and the statistics and how, yes, it can make you a target and how, no, that's not okay and no, it is not your fault. They speak on struggling to be heard and how they are not broken, they are not just waiting for the right person, they are human and there is nothing wrong with them. His legs shake but his voice stays solid and strong through it all and people coming up to him at the end about making a change makes it worth it because this shouldn't be happening and Luke's glad everyone knows it.
As the months pass, Luke doesn't stop looking over his shoulder and he thinks he's never going somewhere alone again and he can't always handle being touched because not all things go back to good or normal. He has days where he can't move, he doesn't get out of bed, maybe he doesn't eat. He yells and cries and fights (mostly with himself). He helps and he gets helped and does what he has to with shaking hands. He returns to the city and he rides the train and he swears if he ever sees that man who thought he had the right and power to Luke's life he will give him hell and this time he won't miss his punches. He gets headaches and body-aches and heartaches and he tries to blow away all the suffocating, dark grey smoke that clouds his vision and clogs his lungs and smothers him.