organic. ➵ lashton

eleven>

[warnings: I AM SO HYPER, i had an all-nighter last night but i am FEELING GREAT (aka feeling hungover af and wanting to shoot myself), let's do this, this almost has 2k already holy]

[ships: luke hemmings + michael clifford (last muke chapter i swear)]

"Michael," Luke whimpered, wrapping his arms around the neck of the older boy.

"Clingy," Michael smiled, not in a condescending or rude way. "So, tell me what happened with Ashton?"

"He tried to hold my hand, so I tore it away, and as soon as I did that, he kissed me."

"Was it any good?"

"Not as good as yours," Luke replied with his big eyes and plump lips, pleasing Michael entirely. He had Luke on his side, not Ashton's.

That lured a long kiss out of Michael, leaving Luke smiling with a slightly dazed expression on his face.

Michael held his hand tightly and just stared into his grey-blue eyes.

"Something the matter?" Luke finally asked, giggling a little.

"You are so freaking pretty," Michael breathed.

Truth be told, Michael hated complimenting Luke. He hated having to constantly tell Luke he was pretty. Pretty was a girl's word, not a guy's word.

It was worth it, though, to see the pretty blush on Luke's cheeks after he said so.

"Thank you," Luke smiled.

And what Michael hated the most about being with Luke, was always having to kiss him. Luke ALWAYS wanted kisses, he was such a clingy shit and Michael was sick of it. He knew, though, that he had to stick it out if he wanted to prove Ashton wrong.

Luke kept his arms around Michael's waist and he pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder.

The blonde rested his head on his shoulder, watching the door as it opened, emerging Ashton.

"Who let you in here?" Michael asked, tightening his arms around Luke.

"I wanted to apologize," he mumbled, shuffling his feet awkwardly as he lifted his head to look at Luke through his lashes.

"For what?" Michael demanded, just trying to drag out the apology.

"Mikey.." Michael grit his teeth when he heard Luke's quiet voice. He hated Mikey. He hated the nickname and anyone who said it to him.

"Shut up, Luke," Michael hissed under his breath. By the way Ashton gaped at him, Michael knew he had heard.

Luke was quiet, he knew his place. Michael was proud, proud in a smug, bragging type of way. That he'd trained Luke to be obedient, just the way he liked his boys.

He assumed Luke would fall into place easily. Luke was anxious and Michael knew he would do anything to make him happy.

"You can't talk to him like that," Ashton said immediately.

"Ashton, shh," Luke begged.

Ashton shook his head, outraged. "You can't let him treat you like that!" He shouted, shoving an accusing finger towards Michael.

Standing in front of the two boys who were practically tied together, Ashton felt small. He felt small when Michael rolled his eyes and ordered him taken out of the room. He felt small when Luke hid his face from him.

But he felt like a giant when Luke ripped away from Michael and stood between them.

"You can't do that to me," Luke mumbled, shuffling towards Ashton.

"He's right," he said after a long silence, "you're no good."

The door was knocked upon once more, and a woman appeared with white gloves on.

"Luke? Luke, why aren't you resting?"

Ashton and Michael shared a look with each other and then looked up at Luke, who was biting his lip.

"I was resting. I just stood up."

"Luke, I wanted to let you know that we've discovered a diagnosis."

Luke sat down again, his bones weak and shaky.

He was weak, his bones were brittle and breakable from malnutrition.

Michael held his hand tightly and Luke barely looked at him.

"You're orthorexic, hon."

Luke flinched. "What does that mean?" He asked, his voice barely there.

"It's a condition where the sufferer," Luke frowned at the word sufferer, "believes in only eating healthy foods. It's a form of anorexia, but where people suffering from anorexia are afraid of getting fat, people with orthorexia are afraid of eating."

Suddenly it all made sense to Ashton, and he nodded understandingly, wishing Luke were beside him and not by Michael.

"S-So, I'm afraid of eating?"

The nurse nodded solemnly.

"I'm sorry, love. We've scheduled a therapy session for you, if you're interested?" She offered softly.

Luke swallowed thickly, looking at his two friends. He nodded. "I would like that very much, ma'am," he murmured.

The nurse grinned. "What a sweetheart. I'll get that written down for you right now."

She left. Luke gulped and closed his eyes.

"So, what we were talking about earlier," Luke whispered, "Michael..."

"I know. Get out. Why don't you make up your fucking mind someday, yeah?"

Luke flinched at the swear. "Actually, no. I want to be friends with you."

"I don't want to be friends with a disaster. I knew it from the start you were just fishing for attention. My whole plan was to get you and fuck you and leave you, just like Calum."

Luke raised a shaking hand to his mouth.

"Oh my god, Cally..."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm a disgrace. At least you got out alright. Unharmed."

Michael slammed the door shut after leaving, abandoning a shocked Luke and an enraged Ashton.

Ashton stood up to comfort Luke as he began to cry.

"It's okay, Lukey babe."

The curly-headed boy wrapped an arm around the blonde who was sniffling and whimpering.

"My poor Cal..." He cried. Ashton tried to soothe him, pressing little kisses to his ear in an attempt to calm Luke down.

Luke's breathing evened after a bit and he looked to Ashton. "He's horrible..."

"I know."

"I hate him."

"I know."

"What about me?"

"...I don't know."