"If bad things happen on good TV. They could make a movie out of you and me. Don't be sad. Don't let go. Don't say goodbye. Just say hello. It's okay. I don't care. What they say. It gets better don't ever lose hope. Never giving up. Not the end of the show. I'm not scared. Don't let go. Don't say goodbye. Just say hello"
~Hedley
Michael's always hated Saturday's. It's a day where he's stuck at home trying to avoid his parents and he always screws up. But something about waking up in Luke's arms made him realize why everybody else loved them. It was another secret to life, but Michal remained ignorant to it.
"Mikey? What are you looking at?" Luke was gazing at Michael and his cheeks were flushed brightly. But his voice. Oh God, his voice. Michael felt himself getting excited just at Luke's sleepy voice.
"Nothing," he muttered still staring at Luke.
"Nothing?" Luke asked with a smirk on his lips.
"Nothing, but the most beautiful, most perfect boy in the whole world,"
"I didn't think you'd be so cheesy," Luke muttered burying his face in Michael's neck.
"Sorry,"
"Don't be sorry, Mikey. I like cheese,"
Michael wanted to laugh he felt the sound bubbling up inside him and it scared him. It scared him that he suddenly felt so alive, because he knew he wouldn't be for very long. He wondered if that was how life worked. If it was only after you told yourself there was no going back that you realized the beauty of the small things. But Michael realized that there were very little things in his life to love. He had Ashton and Calum, but most importantly he had Luke. And he swore that he would not hold himself back from loving them, because his time was limited. He had to make up for years of not speaking to them or noting their presence in a matter of months, so he told himself he would love openly and in great measures. And he let himself laugh.
Luke's eyes lit up as the sound of Michael's laugh reached his ears and he smiled. His eyes watered because the boy in black deserved to laugh every second of everyday but he didn't feel like he did.
"I love your laugh," Luke whispered when Michael's laughs died out.
"I love yours," Michael said.
Michael said. He didn't whisper or mutter or talk in quiet breathes. He spoke at a volume that was still deemed quiet, but it was louder than usual. And that was enough for Luke.
"Y-you didn't whisper," Luke stuttered.
Michael shook his head and smiled at the blonde lying next to him. He didn't whisper, because he felt like someone truly wanted to listen, and he felt like he actually had something to say.
"W-why aren't you whispering?" Luke asked.
"Because I finally found someone who wants to listen," Michael said smiling at the blonde.
His blue eyes sparkled when he realized Michael meant him. Michael's heart swelled that Luke was happy to be that person and his hands were on Luke's bare chest tracing little patterns like his tongue did just last night.
Luke felt like putty under Michael's hands and he leaned into the smaller boy's touch. Michael smiled when he saw Luke moving closer and pressed his lips to Luke's chest leaving kisses all over.
"Michael," Luke started.
"Luke," Michael cut him off. "Please be quiet. I'm busy,"
Luke blushed and nodded as Michael continued kissing every inch of Luke's chest. Michael's lips found the skin on his neck and he bit and sucked. And then Michael moved lower. His lips were on Luke's thighs and Luke's hands were in his hair pulling and tugging at the roots.
"M-Mikey," Luke whimpered.
Michael's tongue traced a path up Luke's leg until he reached the fabric of Luke's boxers. Michael knew he had reached his limit. He wasn't ready for that and he could tell that Luke knew.
"You drive me insane, Michael," Luke muttered pulling the smaller boy on top of him so Michael was straddling him.
"Is that a good thing?" Michael asked shyly.
Luke nodded his eyes never leaving Michael's. "It's better than good, kitten. It's f*cking perfect,"
Michael's cheeks flushed and a smile crept onto his face so he buried his head in Luke's shoulder. The blonde laughed at Michael's reaction to his words, but held him none the less. One hand tangled in his dyed hair and the other loosely around his bare back.
Michael felt a pang in his heart because it wouldn't last. He was riddled with bad and Luke was so good. Michael didn't deserve something so good. And oh God he still wanted to die. He wanted to back to last night and stop himself from calling Luke's name because he wanted to cut so badly. He wanted to cut until he died.
Luke can sense Michael's sudden drop in mood and he's itching to make him smile again. He's dying to make the boy laugh.
"You want some breakfast?" Luke asked him softly.
Michael's eyes meet Luke's and the pain in them is evident causing the blonde's heart to squeeze uncomfortably. Michael didn't really want breakfast. He felt fat and disgusting, but Luke wanted him to eat so he nodded.
"C'mon then," Luke said patting Michael's back as the boy was still seated on his lap. Michael crawled off of Luke and instantly slipped into one of the blonde's sweaters and sweatpants. His feet were still covered in small white socks and Luke found himself smiling and staring at the smaller boy.
Michael was uncomfortable under Luke's stare. He was certain the boy was realizing how hideous he was. How terrible. He waited for Luke to scream at him to get out. Waited for Luke to hit him, but the strike didn't come so Michael squeaked out a word. "What?"
"I'm admiring you, baby. Don't be nervous," Luke cooed standing and hugging the smaller boy.
Michael let himself melt into Luke. He felt himself mold to the taller boy and thought how cliché it was that they fit together as if they were two abandoned and forgotten puzzle pieces finally coming together.
Luke pulled away to slip on another pair of sweatpants before pulling Michael down the stairs to the kitchen. When they reached the kitchen Michael gripped Luke's hand a little tighter. He didn't want to have to let it go.
"Mikey, babe I need my hand to make breakfast," Luke laughed when Michael didn't let him pull his hand away. But Michael held tight and Luke grew concerned rapidly. "Mikey, kitten you okay?" Luke moved in front of the smaller boy and bent his knees slightly.
Michael's washed out green eyes were pooled with unshed tears and Luke cupped the boy's cheek with his free hand. Michael didn't want to look into Luke's icy blue eyes, but he couldn't look away either. In truth Michael didn't want to see the sadness and pain in them that he knew he was causing. But it was so hard sometimes, pretending that he wasn't prepared to shoot himself if given the chance.
"Kitten," Luke whispered gently.
"I don't want you to leave," Michael choked. "Everyone always leaves," Michael couldn't stop the tears or the sobs and he hated it. He hated that he was so weak. Hell, Michael hated himself, and by extension, Michael hated that he was alive.
"I'm not leaving you, baby. I'll f*cking stick around forever and annoy the hell out of you. You'll be begging me to leave soon enough. I'm not going anywhere,"
But Michael still didn't let go and Luke knew there was something else, but he didn't push. Michael couldn't bear to tell him. He knew that Luke's expression would kill; he knew he wouldn't be able to stand the disappointment. Besides Michael knew he was in too deep already, he had tried not to fall for the blonde, but he knew it was inevitable and he was already slipping. Luke had already become a sort of life-line to Michael. He made Michael feel alive. And Michael couldn't stand the thought of losing him.
"Please don't make me let go," Michael begged feebly.
Luke knew he would cave before he did and he pulled the boy over to the couch in the living room instead, turning on the television and pulling Michael onto him.
"You have to cuddle with me now," he muttered pressing kisses to Michael's head. The smaller boy was more than willing and he curled into Luke, his fingers still intertwined with the blondes.
"You know you can come to me for anything right?" Luke asked the smaller boy. "You can tell me anything and it won't change anything,"
Michael nodded, but Luke knew the boy in his arms didn't truly believe that and he'd be lying if he said it didn't sting.
"Michael I mean it. Look at me and tell me that you understand that. I'm always going to be here for you,"
But Michael couldn't turn and look at Luke. He couldn't say it to his face. Because if Luke knew. Oh God if Luke knew what his mum did to him. If he knew how bad his dad really was. If he knew that Michael tried drugs and alcohol to escape. If he knew what really went on at school where no one could see them beating on him. If he truly knew about Michael. If he knew how stupid, and ugly, and worthless the boy was. Michael knew he would leave. If he had the option he would have abandoned himself years ago. And maybe that's why the boy wants to die so f*cking bad.
"Dammit, Michael," Luke knew he was getting angry and he tried to contain it.
But Michael knew, and he tensed waiting for Luke to beat him. He waited for the harsh words to come. His sub-conscious was eager for Michael to be tortured. And by someone he truly cared about. That made it both ten times worse for the boy, and ten times better for his sub-conscious.
"F*ck," Luke cussed.
And Michael knew. He knew what came next and he couldn't help but cry, because being beaten by Luke would be so much worse than being beaten by his dad.
"Mikey? Kitten? Baby why are you crying?" the pieces came together in Luke's mind and he cussed himself out in his mind. "Baby no. I'm not angry at you. Kitten I swear I'm not going to hurt you. Mikey please," Luke's eyes were filling with tears now because he did this. He made Michael cry. "Baby please. I didn't mean to, I wasn't going to hurt you," Luke was getting frantic. "I'm not like your dad, or Ryan or Kyle or Josh. Michael I swear, I'd never hurt you,"
Michael's arms flung themselves around Luke, the blondes hand long since abandoned and he sobbed into Luke's shoulder, because he knew Luke wouldn't hurt him. He really did. But he couldn't help it. Michael wasn't just visibly scarred. He was emotionally wrecked and what had been done to him by others would forever leave its mark.
"I'm sorry," Michael sobbed as Luke arms snaked around him and held tightly.
"No baby, don't be sorry. 'S my fault," Luke refused Michael's apology.
"I'm trying," Michael sobbed.
And Luke smiled. Because he knew that the boy really was trying. And maybe Michael wasn't trying because he really wanted to, but at least Luke knew he was trying.
"I know," Luke whispered stroking the boy's hair.
"I don't understand," Michael muttered some time later his eyes trained on the TV.
"Callie is kissing Scott, but Scott's with Lauren," Luke told him.
"...I still don't get it," Michael muttered.
"It's TV, Mike. They think of everything that could go wrong and make it happen. It's made to entertain people," Luke explained.
"Oh...They could make a blockbuster out of my life," the words were not meant to be spoken aloud. They were meant to hurt Michael. They were sick words designed to cause him harm.
"Don't say that, Mikey," Luke said abruptly, turning off the TV. It took Michael a moment to realize he had said the words aloud.
"Mikey?"
Michael felt sick. He was not supposed to say that. Oh God it was the worst possible thing for him to say.
"Mikey? I know about your dad, baby," Luke said.
Dad. Luke thought this was all about his dad. If it was just his dad it would have been so much easier, but it wasn't. It was his dad, his mum, the people from school. Hell it was him. It was Michael. He was tearing himself apart and he couldn't stop himself. But Luke thought it was all his dad's doing. And Michael couldn't bear to think of how he would react if he knew there was more.
"Mikey?"
Michael didn't want Luke's arms around him anymore. He didn't want the sense of comfort they brought. He wanted to be alone because then he couldn't get attached and he couldn't hurt anyone.
"There's more isn't there?"
And it clicked in Luke's mind. Michael had always been a puzzle and he was trying to figure him out. He was piecing things together slowly. He wanted to solve the puzzle desperately wanted to save Michael. But in order to put the pieces together, Luke needed to see them.
And Michael was nodding. Why was he nodding? He wasn't supposed to be nodding. Stop it, he told himself. Stop it right now, Michael. But Luke had seen and he was hurting already.
"Michael, I need you to tell me everything," Luke said trying to regain his composure.
Michael shook his head continuously. He couldn't stop. And a low string of words were coming out of him. The same word. Over, and over, and over. "No, no, no, no, no, no," only when Luke's hands were holding his cheeks and Luke's lips were on his was Michael able to find it in him to stop.
"Michael. Baby, please,"
And there was that word again. That word that affected Michael so much. Baby. Did this mean Luke liked him? That's why you call someone baby, right?
"I don't think - I'm not sure if I - Luke I can't!" Michael sobbed. "I can't do it!" Michael was in hysterics and Luke was hurting. What could have happened that could do this damage to a boy like Michael? What kind of sick person would do something that terrible to a boy like Michael?
And the answer, which Luke did not know, was perhaps far worse than he had thought. His parents. The ones that brought him into the world and were supposed to love him and teach him. They were slowly killing him. They were teaching him the wrong things. The terrible things. They taught him about the worst parts of humanity. And because of them that's all Michael could see. Because of them Michael was killing himself slowly. Because of his parents.
"It's okay, kitten. I won't leave you. I swear,"
Michael looked up at Luke with tear-filled watery eyes.
"M-my dad, w-when I wa-s fo-ur. Th-that was the fi-rst time he h-hit me. And when I w-was sev-ven m-my mum, my mum..." Michael trailed off and squeezed his eyes shut, but it didn't help. If anything it made the images more vivid. The wicked glint in her eyes. Her words spoken with malice. He remembers learning about it in class remembers the video with the uncle telling the boy it was okay. It wasn't supposed to be his own mum. Never his mum.
Luke stroked the back of Michael's hand tracing small patterns.
"Sh-she touched me," Michael gasped.
Luke's fingers ran still on Michael's skin and the small boy sobbed because oh God did it get worse.
"When I was eight, everyone s-started ignoring me. S-said I w-was crazy, and a f-freak. I s-started c-cutting when I w-as t-ten. And w-when I was th-thirte-en I liked this b-boy fr-om maths a-and then m-my dad g-got real-ly bad. M-my p-parents s-said I w-wasn't the-ir son. A-and the v-voice in m-my h-head st-started when I w-as fourteen. Th-that's w-when I swore I w-wouldn't cry anymore. And th-then, oh God, then I wanted to die. And I still want to die, Luke. A-and th-the kids a-at s-scho-ol. R-Ryan sa-id i-it didn't matter h-how much my mum lov-ed me th-that I was s-still worthless. B-but sh-she doesn't s-so wh-what's th-that supposed to m-mean? I-I did dr-drugs once t-to try and f-forget, b-but my mum does them and th-then I tried t-to o-overdose, b-but that didn't w-work. T-then I-I tried alcohol b-but my d-dad drinks a-and then I h-had a hangover,"
And Michael covered his mouth because he wasn't supposed to tell Luke any of that. Luke wasn't supposed to know anything. And now he knew almost all of it.
Almost. That's the key word.
He didn't know how close Michael really was to killing himself. And then again. Neither did Michael.