thirty eight

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thirty eight


Michael and Calum leave again a few weeks later. This time to the United Kingdom for a month. Luke knows it's only going to get worse as Mike gets bigger. He's going to go to more countries, play for more people, his name will be in the bright lights he craves. 

But, Luke sits in the window like a lost puppy on most days. He wakes up early, goes to work, comes home with glitter in his hair, waits for Ashton to get home. Their house was so quiet, he didn't like it quiet. Even with Radiohead playing sad music through their speakers, Luke still felt so alone. 

Today was different. 

Luke paced back and forth in their messy bedroom. After having his head in the toilet bowl for four days in a row, he's seemed to convince himself that there is a child growing inside of his body. 

He plopped down on the unmade bed, running a hand through his blonde hair. He pulled at the ends, his eyes flickering to the clock. Ashton was supposed to be home any minute from his early morning class. He'd be able to calm his best friend down, right?

Calum walked in on a dead asleep Michael. It was a few hours after their most recent show and Mike crashed backstage. He was exhausted, sleep deprived, and a little bit tipsy. 

Cal did his normal routine of packing up Michael's guitar and such. He tidied up the room and uploaded photos before sitting next to Michael. He shook the boy's shoulder, waiting for him to wake. 

"Fuck off," Michael groaned. 

"Bus call is in thirty minutes, I'm supposed to get you up and ready." Calum felt bad for the overworked musician, this was just the beginning of a long road. He looked down at Michael with pity, sad eyes, he's never seen the boy so out of it. 

Luke yelled Ashton's name as he heard the front door open. His feet were bouncing off the wooden floors. 

"Luke, you are yelling. Why are you always yelling?" Ashton asked as he made his way up the stairs slowly. He felt old as his back and knees ached with every step. He finally made his way to Luke's room. Ash stood in the doorway, taking off his crewneck to reveal the white undershirt underneath. He turned around, throwing the thicker material into his own room. 

"Ash, I think I'm pregnant."

"You're not pregnant, you're just fat," he responded, a smile on his face.

Luke rolled his eyes. "First of all, that's not funny. Second of all, I'm serious."

Ashton took another step into the room, looking at the decent sized space. He's never really been in the room, he just figured it was the void where the two boys slept and fucked. "Wait, you mean, like, really? Don't you guys use protection?"

"Usually!" Luke defended. "But, we were in his parents house and—."

"You did it in his parents house? You nasty boy." Ashton laughed as he circled the room. There were pictures hung neatly on the wall, a few from Luke's childhood, none from Michael's. There were lots of photos of the couple and Ashton recognized Calum's watermark on the bottom of each photo. 

"In their kitchen after breakfast," Luke laughed. "That's not the point. I need you to get me tests." He looked down at his fingers so Ashton wouldn't see the blush rising to his cheeks. He was sweating with embarrassment. 

"You can drive, why can't you?" Ashton sat next down to Luke, the instant smell of the blonde's cologne filling his nose. He missed his best friend, he missed his best friend a lot. They spent so much time alone worrying about their boyfriends that they forget they're not alone. 

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