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All that I want
Is to know undoubtedly
That you just have eyes for me
Could you make it clear?
Michael and Luke weren't anything, not really. Sure, they kissed all the time, and shared beds and hotel rooms on tour, and exchanged sleepy love declarations, and Luke may have been stupid in love with him, but that didn't mean anything. They were young and stupid and maybe a little bit in love with each other, but they weren't anything, and would never be anything.
"Mikeee," Luke whined from the chair across from Michael at the bar they had ended up at.
Michael was staring at something. Luke blinked. No. Someone. "Hm?"
"What are you doing?"
Michael's eyes darted back towards Luke. "Nothing."
"Were you— were you checking that guy out?" Luke sounded almost unsure of himself.
"What do you care, Luke?" Michael rolled his eyes.
"But—"
"Luke, I can look at pretty boys all I want. You're not the boss of me."
"Oh," Luke cleared his throat. Right, how could he forget. Him and Michael weren't dating. That would be stupid. Ruin the band. Michael got to look at whoever he wanted, and Luke had to put up with the fact that those eyes were less and less directed towards him. "You're right. I just— I dunno. Sorry."
"Nothin' to apologise for, just, like, don't do it again."
Luke swallowed the lump in his throat. "Noted."
—
All that I want
Is to sit here silently
And watch movies on TV
What a shame you're not here
Michael was hanging out with him less and less. On the nights Calum and Ashton would go clubbing, the nights Luke and Michael would usually decline invitations to in order to kiss each other's faces off, Michael starting going too. It hurt. A lot.
The TV on the now-stopped tour bus didn't get many channels. Luke wasn't sure what he had originally put on, but The Office was playing, which was all he ever watched.
TV used to be background noise when his main focus was Michael's lips. Now, with the familiar warmth missing, he stared numbly at the screen, counting pixels in an attempt to stop thinking about his stupid thing for the guitarist of his band. He got to around 127 when the door swung open to reveal, who else, Michael. Luke sprung up.
"You guys back?"
"Just me," Michael shrugged, taking off his shoes. "I'm sleepy. Gonna go to bed."
Luke hesitated before his reply came. "Cuddle? Please please please?"
Michael rolled his eyes almost fondly, a smile playing on his lips. "Mkay."
Luke grinned as Michael settled down next to him. He let his lips ghost the other's cheek.
Michael frowned. "Not tonight. Tired."
"Oh. Okay. Yeah. Sure."
—
Here to witness my devotion
And my endless well of needs
I'm an anchor in the ocean
You know I could never leave
Luke hung out with Michael one-on-one less and less as the tour went on, and soon enough, their only alone time was in shared hotel beds. He felt like a puppy, waiting on Michael constantly.
It was one of those nights in a hotel bed that Luke decided he couldn't do this anymore, not without answers.
"Mike?" Luke looked up at him with wet eyes, biting his bottom lip.
"Hm?" Michael glanced up from his phone.
"Do you love me?"
This made Michael turn off his phone. "What are you talking about, Luke?" He frowned, putting a hand on his cheek.
"You don't act like it. Anymore," Luke looked down, fidgeting with his hands anxiously. He felt so needy, so demanding. Michael was the only one who had ever made him act this way.
Michael softly exhaled. "What do you want me to do, then?"
"Kiss me?"
"Luke—"
"Please. Just— act like you care."
Michael sighed, the cold air brushing Luke's lips as they collided. It felt like breathing. It felt like freedom. Luke didn't know the last time they had done this. Months ago, probably.
Michael separated them after a short few moments, brushing Luke's growing hair behind his ears. "I do care, Lukey."
"Promise?"
"Mhm."
"Okay... I love you," Luke smiled, resting his head on Michael's chest as he shut his eyes.
"I know you do."
—
So I'm patient, you're learning
Pretend it's not hurting, oh, whoa
And they say it's a virtue
To not let good love slip away
Maybe it was because Luke had seemed so desperate, but those stolen moments between him and Michael grew more frequent after that night. He couldn't be more grateful for how he had acted, smiling as they rested in Michael's shockingly small bunk on the tour bus. It was late, and they were travelling between cities. They were lucky Calum and Ashton were heavy sleepers, because the sound of them two making out probably filled the entire bus.
Luke pushed away suddenly. "Michael?" He whispered.
Luke rarely, if ever, used his full name. This in and of itself was alarming. Michael replied. "What is it?"
"What is this?"
Michael frowned. "What are you asking?"
"What are we doing, with each other?"
"It's..." Michael trailed off. "Let's not put a name on it, baby."
So I'm cool and forgiving
I'll take what you're giving, oh, whoa
"But I need to know! You— you call me nice things like baby, and sweetheart, and we kiss and stuff, but you don't answer me when I ask this stuff—"
"Luke, listen," Michael put a finger over his lips. "We can't name this. Think about the band."
"Fuck the band!" Luke hissed in a whisper. "Just— give me anything, Mikey. An arbitrary label, or something. Please."
But nothing's quite enough
When I know that to get it, I begged
Michael sighed. "How about best friends who kiss? Is that good enough, baby?"
Luke wanted to fight. Wanted to tell him no, that wasn't enough, he wanted to date him, love him, be with him. But he knew fighting with Michael was futile. "Okay. Yeah. That's fine. Thank you, Mikey."
"Anything for you, okay?"
"I love you, Mike. Say it back?"
Michael looked hesitant. Repulsed, even. "You too, Luke."
"No," Tears pooled in Luke's eyes. "Say you love me, Mike."
Michael hesitated again. "I... love you, Luke."
Yeah, to get it, I begged
—
And I have this thought
When I lay in bed at night
That I feel trapped inside my life
Is that a normal thing?
Luke didn't know where they were anymore. The shows blurred together in an endless cycle, and the only thing anchoring him to reality was the very person causing him to feel this way.
Luke fought back a sigh. Michael had fallen asleep with an arm draped over him, only after Luke had pleaded, of course. ("Can we cuddle?" Luke had asked sheepishly. Michael yawned. "I'm sleepy." "I sleep better when we cuddle. Please, Mikey?" Luke wasn't all too surprised when Michael relented.)
He was tired of begging. He was tired of everything he was doing. Was this worth it? Was Michael worth it?
Luke shook his head, like he was an Etch-A-Sketch. He shouldn't be thinking those things. He loved Michael. And even if this... whatever they had going on, if it didn't work, they were still bandmates. They couldn't ruin the band because of this.
And this was so shameful that Michael didn't want to put a name to it. Couldn't.
Ashamed, distraught, Luke silently cried into the pillow, flinching slightly when Michael unconsciously pulled him closer, letting out a muted yelp—one which, unfortunately, woke up the older one.
"Luke? You okay?" He spoke, words laced with annoyance and tiredness.
"Shit, 'm sorry, Mikey. Didn't wanna wake you. I'm, ah, fine."
Michael was either too tired to see the blatant lie, or just didn't care. Luke really, really wished it was the first option.
"...Kay. G'night," Michael yawned, turning back over, and away from Luke.
And the warmth was gone, replaced with deep sorrow and regret.
—
To fight back the waves
Of a static lovers' dread?
I'm overwhelmed, I'm underfed
And yet I still cling
Luke and Michael weren't dating. He kept repeating that in his head over and over and over. They were bandmates, best friends. Best friends who kiss. That's what Michael had called them. That's what they were. What they are.
They weren't dating, but they were still making out in the younger's dressing room after a show. But Luke was still gripping Michael's shirt as they breathed in each other's air. But Michael was still pulling away, out of breath, whispering, "Fuck, you're so hot," and then still leaning back in like he was suffocating and Luke was his air.
They weren't dating, but Luke was clinging to the idea that they might soon. Maybe after tour was over, maybe after the hype died down a little. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
He was so lost in thought, he barely noticed when Michael pulled away, when he turned and exited the dressing room, discarding Luke, yesterday's trash.
How naïve he was to believe Michael wanted more with him. More than what they had. This was all they could ever be, all Michael would let them be. And Luke was so stupid for him that he'd let him stomp all over his heart over and over again.
Luke was so fucked.
He didn't know how much longer he could do this for.
—
Cling to hope like snow on mountains
Careless words melt it away
I'm a penny in a fountain
Just waiting on my luck to change
Luke could beg all he wanted, but they were nothing. "Mike," he whispered.
"Mmm?"
"When tour is over, can we, y'know, actually try to be something?"
Michael just sighed. He was doing that a lot lately. "We can't, Luke."
"But why?"
"The ba—"
"I already told you that I don't give a shit about that! Give me a real reason. I want you, in any way you'll let me have you, but I can't do it like this too much longer. It's killing me. You're killing me, Mikey," Luke let the tears pour down his face this time. "I just want you."
"I know, baby," Michael mumbled, pressing their foreheads together. "Even if you don't care if this breaks up the band, I do. We worked so fuckin' hard for this. No matter what we have together, we can't give up our careers for it."
"But—"
Michael just kissed him, probably in an attempt to shut him up. "No."
Oh.
—
So I'm patient, you're learning
Pretend it's not hurting, oh, whoa
More often than not these days, Luke was crying. He just wanted Michael, all of the time. It hurt. Everything hurt. He wished he had never met Michael. He wished he was working some shitty data entry job. He wished he had never left Australia.
But, more than anything, he wished for Michael to change his mind.
‘Cause they say it's a virtue
To not let good love slip away
Tour was quickly coming to a close. The two boys were drifting apart. The only time they ever shared anymore was sloppy kisses in an uncomfortable hotel bed until Luke fell asleep first. When he awoke, he was always alone. Hugging a pillow, if Michael pitied him. They were drifting. It was affecting shows, but Luke couldn't give less of a shit about that. He just wanted Michael back. That was all he wanted, all he would ever want.
So I'm cool and forgiving
I'll take what you're giving, oh, whoa
Luke had long since given up on getting Michael to listen. It wasn't happening. He so badly wanted Michael to turn and run to him, to apologise, to beg for a second chance, to say he loved him without any hesitation behind it. But that was never happening.
He had to accept it.
—
But nothing's quite enough
When I know that to get it, I begged
Tomorrow was the final night of tour, and, deep down, Luke knew this was the end of their arrangement.
"Michael," Luke started. "Is this the end?"
"Of what?" He didn't look up.
"This. Us."
"Luke, there is no 'us'," Michael frowned.
"Then, is this the end of... what we've had?"
The older boy bit his lip. "Uh... 'fraid so."
"Does it have to be?"
Michael sighed deeply. "Yes. We can't risk it after tour ends, baby."
"Not even when we're alone?"
Luke's puppydog eyes, which usually worked, were not getting through to Michael. "We can't. If we let it keep happening, it spirals, and then someone finds out."
God, Luke hated when Michael was right. "Then... do we have tonight?"
"I don't know, Luke."
He frowned at the lack of a nickname. He loved it when Michael called him petnames. It made him feel loved. "I just want one more night with you, Mikey. Please. I love you so much, I can't give you up yet. Please."
"Luke—"
"I need you, Mikey. Just tonight, and no more."
Michael was hesitant, as he always was with Luke. Instead of giving an answer, however, he collided their lips with reignited vigor. They kissed hot and heavy for what was both an eternity yet however not long enough. "Just tonight," Michael echoed.
"Tonight, I'm yours," Luke whispered onto the older boy's lips.
Yeah, to get it, I begged