Jordan's POV:
"Done!" I exclaim, slamming the last shirt down on the table as Justin stops the timer on his phone. I look around the merch table I just set up.
"3 minutes and 46 seconds. That has to be a record," he grins, straightening the pile of t-shirts. I notice his eyes linger on the picture of Luke on one of the shirts a little bit longer than normal. I quirk an eyebrow at him and he blushes.
"Don't worry, I'm not gonna make a move on your man," Justin rolls his eyes.
"Luke's not my man!" I exclaim, and now it's my turn to blush. I watch as Justin's brown eyes blow wide. His tall frame looks down at me suspiciously and I avert my eyes from his, staring at his floral collared shirt.
"Ha! I knew you all were hiding something!" He points a finger, boasting.
"I just told you nothing was going on!"
"Yeah, but you jumped to deny it and didn't even comment on the fact that I just came out to you!" He refutes with a smirk and I realize I don't have a rebuttal. I frown at him, walking out from behind the table as Emma approaches.
"How'd you do!?" She asks, smiling widely. Her skirt is a cute floral print, a simply white v-neck tucked in and she looks downright adorable.
Justin answers before I can.
"She's like, scary good. And scary chill too, like I just dropped the gay bomb and she wasn't even surprised," he explains, shooting me a look almost as if he's disappointed at my lack luster reaction.
"No ones ever surprised when you drop the gay bomb Justin," Emma rolls her eyes at him and I laugh at his pout.
"Plus it's nothing to freak over anyways. Doesn't change anything," I shrug at him. I see him smile at me.
"We have to run through practice sales but you're off the hook, you can go watch the boys perform if you wanna," she explains.
"Do we have to?" Justin groans. Emma punches his arm lightly then starts to drag him back towards the tables. Still smiling, I begin to make my way towards the stage. I gaze around at all the seats, a mixture of red and blue and I'm taken aback for a moment. I can't imagine how that many people were going to be here to see my best friends perform tomorrow.
As if on cue, I hear a guitar intro sound through the speakers. I speed up my steps, scurrying up to the stage. I find a gap in the barricade, running up to the edge of the catwalk and hoisting myself up onto the high stage. It's a struggle, but I manage to wiggle my way on right before Ashton comes out behind his drum set.
I plop down on the hard floor, crossing my legs indian style. I rest my chin on my hands, trying not to jump as Ash hits his drums once, the rest of the boys appearing behind him and running towards their mics.
The big screens light up, Luke's face popping up at the camera pans to him. They fade their intro into playing 18, and I watch as Luke notices me sitting at the end of the catwalk, his eyes getting a little brighter. I wave at him, and he waves back in-between guitar strumming.
I sway my head back and forth, dancing while sitting. I watch as Mike, Calum and Luke all exchange glances, eyes flickering from me to eachother and then suddenly there's a single file line of 6ft children running towards me and giggling, various instruments held still by one hand.
I cringe as Michael reaches me at the end of the catwalk, bopping the top of my head before circling around and heading back to the main stage.
Calum is next and he bends down, poking my sides and making me squeal a little and I swear I can hear him giggle, even over Ashton's drum beats.
Luke is the last to reach me and I'm pleasantly surprised when he swoops down and kisses the top of my head before scurrying back to the main stage and to his mic.
I hang out for the rest of the set, basically in awe of how amazing they sound. After the last three beats I hop to my feet, clapping my hands together and yelling my cheers.
"ENCORE ENCORE ENCORE!" I tease, running up towards them and following them backstage. Once Michael sits his guitar down on the rack his hands wrap around my hips, throwing me over his sweaty shoulder.
"CLIFFORD PUT ME DOWN OR I SWEAR TO GOD," I yell, beating on his back.
"Michael you idiot put her down before you drop her!" Luke groans, running to catch up. Michael turns to face Luke, and I only catch him saying "your precious cargo" before the sharp pain caused by my head hitting the door frame distracts me.
I can't hold back the groan of pain that slips out of my throat.
"Shit!" Michael exclaims, easing me down onto my feet. Before his hands leave my torso, another set is on my shoulders, spinning me around to face them.
Luke's blue eyes are staring into mine as I bring a hand up to rub my new-forming whelp.
"Are you alright?" His voice is laced with worry, making me laugh a little, the sharp pain subsiding to a throb.
"I'm fine Luke," I tease, patting the top of his head and rolling my eyes.
"I'm gonna find you an ice pack," he mumbles, squeezing my shoulders and then running off to the other room.
"Sorry Jo," Michael pouts at me, guilt written all over his face. He looks like a kitten who just got sprayed by water.
"Don't worry Mikey, I'm fine. Luke's just dramatic," I reassure him, wrapping an arm around his torso as he slings his around my shoulder, leading me into the dressing room. I hear 1D take the stage as we plop down on the couch, and I listen to the 1D set, leaning my head again his shoulder. Ashton and Calum sit across the room, both sprawled out on couches, playing on their phones.
Luke returns five minutes later, baggie full of ice cubes in his hand.
"Here," he hands it to me, breathing heavily. I don't need it, but I realize he ran across the stadium to get it from concessions and I feel a little rush of warmth pulse through me.
"Thanks Luke," I take it, pressing it to the new lump on my head. The relief is undeniable. "You do realize I'm probably gonna get bruised up on this tour right?"
"Why?" He frowns, looking around the room.
"Well you see, pair my coordination with the amount of loose cords and other things to trip on and you've got a disaster waiting to happen," I grin at him. He rolls his eyes at me. "And you can't run half a mile to get me ice every time I scrape my knee."
"Michael banged your head into a wall."
"ON ACCIDENT!" Michael butts in, pouting again. I pat his leg reassuringly.
"I'm fine, see look, good as new," I spring up to my feet, ignoring the slight throb it causes just as Little White Lies begins to play. I jokingly start to dance around, one hand still holding the ice pack to my head.
"Do I look as sexy as I did in the club last night?" I smirk, making over-exaggerated hand motions with my free arm.
"Even more," Luke jokes, but all that's running through my mind is the fact that he just admitted I was sexy. I know my heart shouldn't flutter like that, but I can't help it.
"Okay, not gonna lie it kinda hurts now," I grimace. Michael scoots to the far side of the couch and Luke sits next to him, patting his lap. I lay down in the empty spot, my head landing in his lap. He guides my hand off the ice pack and he balances it where it should be. Even without me asking he takes my hand into his to warm it up and I relax against the cushion and his legs, gazing up at him.
I watch with a smile as he types on his phone with one hand, even though he hates doing that, just to keep mine warm. I feel myself dose off, this morning's hangover catching up with me as the heat from Luke's hand spreads to my heart and I let the questions in my head fall apart.
-------------------------------------------------
comment pleaseeeeee
YOU ARE READING
stupid little things || luke hemmings
Fanfiction"Maybe thats what love is to us. All the stupid little things."
