Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Our future, as bright as day
There’s only one place for me to stay
No one can hold a candle to you
Before you, no one came through

No.

Before you, no one came through
Before you, no one compared
Before you, I didn’t have a clue

Before you…

Luke stares at his notebook, unable to finish his sentence. Like every day since he started trying to write his third album, actually. Nothing seems to be working.

Trusting his instinct, he starts the sentence over, and suddenly, the words seem to write themselves on the page, without Luke even realizing what he’s writing.

Before you, I was wrapped around his finger.

Luke reads and rereads the words he just wrote. His finger. Horrified, he scribbles everything out and tears the page from his notebook, his heart pounding hard against his ribs.

It’s not the first time he’s talked about this, about him. But for that to be the only sentence that came to him so effortlessly, and while writing about someone else…

He gets up from his chair and paces the few feet of the small room he’s set aside for writing. He runs a shaky hand through his hair—which has grown rather long again—and forces himself to stop pacing. He opens and closes his hands, eyes shut, doing his best not to let himself spiral. Come on Luke, breathe.

Before you. Before you, there wasn’t nothing. That’s what’s holding him back. Luke’s gaze settles on his notebook again, the torn-out page still crumpled and abandoned on the floor beside the desk. He sits back down and picks up his pencil, almost against his better judgment, and follows where his mind is taking him. Since when has he been denying himself words? Creativity? Intuition?

He starts writing again, humming unconsciously under his breath as a way to calm himself.

"You were mine for a night
I don't know how to say goodbye"

Luke’s ears are still ringing as he pushes open the hotel’s glass doors. And yet, despite how exhausted his body is, he’d fucking missed this. There’s no feeling that compares to being back on stage and singing for everyone what you’ve kept to yourself for so long. As he steps into the dimly lit lobby, the adrenaline slowly begins to leave Luke's body, and his bed starts to feel like a safe haven.

He’s not the only one in this state. The four guys quickly decide to head to bed; they have to leave early in the morning to catch their flight to their next stop. Before they head to their respective rooms, Ashton pulls them all into a hug.

“Great show tonight, guys. I’m so happy to be back,” he tells them, a smile on his face.

“Same here,” Luke adds, a tired smile on his lips.

Who would’ve thought, just a few months ago, that he and Ashton would be back on their feet, ready to go full force into another round of shows? Not Luke, that’s for sure.

The pairs split up — tonight (most nights, actually), it’s Luke and Michael, and Calum and Ashton. The former heads toward the elevator, their room a few floors up. The doors close behind them, trapping the two men in near-perfect silence. It’s not an awkward silence, though. It never is with Michael, especially not after all these years.

After a moment, just before the doors open again, Luke breaks the silence.

“What song do you think they liked the most?”

“Off the new album?” Michael asks.

“Mhm,” Luke replies as they step onto the red carpet in the hallway.

“Other than Want You Back, I guess.”

“Other than the obvious, yeah.”

Michael takes a few seconds to think, during which Luke searches for their room key in his back pocket.

“Youngblood, I think.”

Luke smiles. “I think so too.”

With a soft beep, the door to their room unlocks.

“Good thing that’s our next single, huh?” Michael asks, wearing the same smile they both get when they feel like they’ve got something.

He nods. “Sure seems like it.”

Luke tosses his leather jacket onto the nearest chair. He hears the door close behind them as Michael heads toward his bed and lets himself fall onto the mattress with a sigh. Luke has the same instinct, but the thought of lying down in his sweaty clothes makes him grimace. After all, you can’t run around onstage for two hours and expect to stay clean.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” the younger one says. He grabs the towel that had been neatly rolled up on his bed and a clean pair of underwear from his suitcase. Seems like someone from his team had brought it up to the room beforehand.

Michael props himself up on his shoulder, turning toward him. “Okay, I’ll go after you.”

Without saying anything else, Luke walks into the bathroom attached to their room. It’s fairly spacious, with enough room for a large sink and an even larger mirror, a toilet, a bathtub, and a shower. When the young man thinks back to their first hotel rooms, when they were lucky if they had a working shower, he can’t help but marvel at how far they’ve come.

The hot water running over his body feels insanely good. He stays under it longer than necessary, enjoying one of the few quiet moments he’ll get over the next few months. He decides to wash his hair too. He needs more shampoo than he used to, now that his hair has grown this long. Still, Luke likes the way it looks and has no intention of cutting it yet.

Back in the room, wearing only his boxers with his hair still damp, he finds Michael still stretched out on the bed. However, he’s taken off his shirt and is lying on his back, his phone in hand. The sight of his friend’s bare torso makes Luke’s heart beat faster than usual—a fact he curses. This isn’t supposed to happen to him, not anymore.

Michael looks up from his phone, and Luke feels his gaze settle on him—on his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. They’ve seen each other like this countless times before, but it’s been a while. Feeling exposed, Luke lies down on his own bed.

He clears his throat. “Your turn."

Luke hears Michael get up beside him. He closes his eyes and sinks into the mattress, trying to relax. The bed is so comfortable that it should be easy, but every little sound Michael makes keeps him aware of where he is. The floor creaks beneath his footsteps as he moves around the room. Luke takes a slow breath, willing his heart to settle.

Then, the creaking stops. Luke assumes Michael has stepped onto the bathroom tiles, but the shower doesn’t turn on. Instead, his bed dips. Luke barely has time to register his surprise before Michael crawls up beside him, then over him.

“Mike…”

Lips against his neck.

“Michael…”

“I missed you.”

He’s now lying completely on top of Luke, using only his arms, planted on either side of the younger man’s head, to support himself. Luke’s breathing has quickly returned to its frantic pace.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your new hair? You look so hot Luke… »

“Michael, please…”

For a moment, instinct threatens to win out. He wants nothing more than to let Michael kiss him as much as he wants, but he can’t.

Luke places his hands on Michael’s shoulders and pulls him away from him. “Michael, stop.”

The way he looks at Luke almost makes him want to change his mind. “W- why?”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“What?”

That stunned, bewildered look, paired with his pupils blown wide in a way that only happens for Luke, makes it impossible to look away. The older man sits up slightly, putting some distance between them.

“I have a girlfriend now. I can’t do this to her,” Luke answers.

“That’s never stopped you before.”

Luke’s heart drops to his stomach. He feels like the biggest asshole, but he doesn’t even know to whom.

“It’s different this time. I really think I love her, Mikey. I don’t want to hurt her.”

Michael stares at him for a few seconds without saying a word. His expression says everything. He pulls away completely, sitting down on the bed beside Luke.

“So that’s it, then.”

Although his eyes had barely been able to leave Luke a few moments ago, they now avoid his gaze.

“Come on, you can’t blame me for doing the right thing here, Michael.”

Michael scoffs. His expression is cold, closed off.

“And what is this, then? Hm? What am I, a placeholder?”

Luke frowns. “You know damn well that’s not the case.”

“That’s not how you’re making it look.”

Luke clenches his jaw.

“You know,” he says, “if you respected your own girlfriend, if you respected yourself, you wouldn’t be doing what you’re doing right now.”

Luke knows how this sounds, but the only way his mind knows how to keep from collapsing is to turn his guilt into frustration.

Michael’s gaze finally settles back on him—its intensity takes Luke off-guard.

“Wow." He lets out a humourless chuckle. "Fuck you.”

He gets up and grabs his shirt from the floor.

“Fuck me?”

Michael stops his frantic gathering and meets Luke’s eyes.

“Do you realize how humiliating this is for me right now?”

Luke swallows hard. He hates what he’s doing, but he doesn’t have a choice.

In his most neutral voice, Luke replies, “I think we should keep our distance for the next few days.”

Michael clenches his jaw. He stares at him for a few more seconds before taking a breath. The tremor in his inhale feels like a knife twisting in the wound.

“I completely agree.”

Without another word, he turns around and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

Luke stares at the door before looking down at his shaking hands. He wipes at his face, only now noticing the wetness on his cheek.

He has never felt this shitty following his heart.