it's me [muke af]

love is dangerous//blink-182

possible trigger warning : slight mentions of abuse

love is dangerous//blink-182

Their dining room table was full. There was Luke, his mother, his father, his brother plus his wife, his other brother plus his wife. There was Michael, his mother, his father. Alex and Nick were at the kid table with the seven other Hemmings cousins. 

Every seat was filled, Luke felt like he could not breathe. He placed his hand on Michael's lap, rubbing up and down his thigh slowly. He was in his usual black skinny jeans, a grey sweater alining his upper body. 

Michael smiled, placing his own hand on top of Luke's. They ate in a few casual conversations, so far, so good. Every holiday so far, something has gone wrong. Luke felt like everyone was on edge, they were walking on sharp egg shells. 

He worked so hard to make this holiday perfect. Nothing has caught on fire yet, no one has thrown any punches yet, so far, so good. So far, so good. So far, so—.

"So, Michael," Ms. Hemmings played around with the turkey on her plate, cutting it into smaller pieces before taking a bite, "How have you been? We haven't heard much from Luke about you."

"I've been doing great, thank you." His words were short and simple. 

Michael's own mother decided it was a decent time to jump in, "We're all family here. I feel like we deserve a deeper answer than that."

Not with that attitude. "Honestly, everything has been doing great. I have a gallery coming up next month, I might go back to working part time for Luke. It's been fine." He spit out the last sentence with building up rage. 

"I remember when you dropped out of college, I was so worried," Luke's mother went on. "I can't believe it's been so long since that meltdown."

"Mom, let's not talk about that at the table," Luke sneered, clutching his fork tightly in his left hand. 

He could feel Michael tensing up under the touch of his right hand. Their rosy red dining room has never felt so tiny to Mike than it did right then. His hands started to clench, pulling at the napkin in his hand. "Yeah, it has been a while. Luke and I didn't want our children growing up feeling worthless like us."

"Mike," Luke trailed out his husband's name as he looked at him with saddened eyes. He expected this. He doesn't know why he feels so down about it. 

Michael gave him a tilted smile, but his eyes were turning grey. He gave his a hand a squeeze, but then he couldn't control his hands from pulling at Luke's fingers. He clenched his jaw, but had no control over his words. "I need to get out of this fucking house." 

Mike stood up, throwing the balled up napkin on the table and walking out of the dining room. Luke leant his elbow on the table, running a hand through his hair. "Did you really need to do that again?"

"We barely said anything!" Luke's mother exclaimed. Her eyes watched Michael turn the corner, then he was simply gone. 

The stairs creaked under every step of Michael's as he cracked his head from left to right, "Not now," he told himself, "Not now. Not now. Not now. Fuck!" He whisper-screamed at himself. 

He slammed the bedroom door behind him, collapsing his body onto the bed as he started to take off the soft sweater. 

"That wasn't teasing, Mom. That was being a verbally abusive asshole," Luke said. He played around with the mashed potatoes on his plate, stirring them around with his fork. He and Mike made them earlier in the week, he was doing so good. He was being himself, it was the best few weeks of Luke's life. 

He could sense Calum was back. He just had a feeling in the back of his head that it wasn't going to be Ashton or Michael. 

Michael closed his eyes.

Calum opened his eyes. He looked around the room, the bed was nicely made, the pillows laying over the tucked in sheets. He looked at his pale hands, nothing seemed different. Cal couldn't figure out why he showed up.

He twisted the golden wedding ring around his finger as he stood on his two feet. He was standing in only his navy blue boxers when Luke walked in. "'Sup, Sugar Daddy."

Luke laughed, "I'm not even responding to that. Are you Calum now?" The blonde closed the door behind him, flicking on the bedroom light yet standing a good distance away from Calum. 

"Always been," he responded. Calum said as going through Michael's drawers, throwing nice clothes on the ground until he found a beat up white shirt and black basketball shorts. He slid the clothing on his body, Luke watching his back muscles moving under the ghostly skin. 

"I need you to stay in here until everyone goes home, I really don't want them to see you," Luke said. His back was still pressed against the door, his eyes watching Calum's every move.

Cal turned around, "What if I don't want to?" He always stood much taller than Michael even if they were they were the same person. Mike slouched, Cal did not. His back was straight, he made Mike's small shoulders seem wide. He put his hands together, cracking each knuckle as he took a single step closer to Luke. 

"I will send you back to fucking rehab if you dare step out of this room," Luke threatened, taking his own step forward. 

The first time Calum came around, Luke was sixteen and Michael was eighteen. He was a lanky blonde boy who struggled to carry more than two binders across the school. So, when he work up next to someone who was not Michael, he was scared. He was scared when Calum straddled his waist and held his hands above his head. He was scared when Calum told him to never talk back to him. 

Thinking about it now, Luke doesn't know why he stuck around. 

"Don't talk in that tone, you know I don't like it." His words were short and deep. His jaw clenched, making his entire demeanor much darker. 

"I really don't have time to deal with this right now. Stay here—."

"I said, don't talk to me like that!" Calum yelled, taking a larger step towards Luke. He was within reach of Luke, but the blonde didn't feel threatened. 

Luke rolled his eyes, "You don't control me. I'm not sixteen anymore, Calum." 

Before he could take another breath, Cal had his hands pushing against the thirty-six year old's shoulder. Luke hit the door with a loud thud. He cringed at the pain rising through his torso. "I still control you like the fucktoy you've always been," Cal snarled, "Don't you dare think you matter anymore than you did back then."

Luke bit his tongue, "I don't want you. I want Michael. Give me Michael back, now."

Calum pressed his hips against Luke's skinny body, his hands on either side of his head as he leant in. Luke could feel the older man's breath on his ear as goosebumps rose all over his body. "It doesn't work that way. You caused me. You never listen to that pathetic soul, and he is forced to create me."

Luke swallowed a lump in his throat as Calum managed to get even closer to the blonde. He was radiating heat off of his body warmer than their summer nights. "That's not true."

"He told you he didn't want those fuckers downstairs, and you did it anyways. He knew he couldn't handle it, and he told you that. Michael knows himself but here you are, thinking he's an idiot." Calum trailed his hands to Luke's neck, his entire palm wrapping around his thin throat. He applied pressure. His short nails felt like knives as they ran across Luke's skin. 

He shook his head and put his hands on Calum's chest, "Don't touch me. Just stay here, take a bath, take a nap. I don't care. Just don't come down unless you're Michael."

Luke tried to push him away, but Cal only pushed him back against the door. "Don't fucking talk to me like that." His hand was on Luke's cheek and the younger boy was afraid he'd take a strike at him. 

"Please don't hurt me," he begged, his voice quiet. 

Just like that, Calum dropped. He fell completely to the floor and Luke didn't understand why. Cal pulled at his hair then closed his eyes. 

Michael opened his eyes.