a/n: in honor of hitting 100 reads, here's an update!
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oblivion: (n.) the state of being unaware of what is happening around you.
Josh's sitting on the wall along the front of the school, swinging his feet back and forth and humming. He has one earbud in, the other hanging against his chest, the loud thump of bass and drums spilling out of the tiny speaker. He looks up, grinning when he spots Luke. "You look like absolute shit, Hemmings."
It's all Luke can do to not grimace. He's entirely aware of how bad he looks, there's a sheen of sweat over his eyebrows and his cheeks are paler than usual. He feels like crap, could easily collapse dead in the next second and not even mind.
"Good to see you too," Luke replies sarcastically, and he smiles weakly. He throws his bag on to the wall and rests his face on his crossed forearms in front of it. It smells like rain, like wet grass and dewy ground, it reminds him of Halloween last year, how he'd lost his glasses in the storm while running home with Tyler and how his brothers covered for him when his parents figured out he'd been out past twelve.
Josh drops the other earbud from his ear and ruffles Luke's hair. "Tired?"
"Absolutely exhausted." Luke sighs, letting out a soft yawn. He wants nothing more than to head home and crawl under his blankets, sleep for the next fifteen hours straight and get ready for the groups of children that'd be knocking on his door Saturday. "Can we just-"
"Luke!" It's Michael, again. Luke turns around, eyes wide and cautious. He doesn't like how Michael's grinning at him, like he knows something. There's something about Michael that doesn't seem right, and of course, a large majority of the student body is aware of this, including Luke, but that was what had Luke leaning in questioningly. "You're coming to my party on Saturday, right?" Michael's eyes flash with something Luke doesn't know how to comprehend.
He nods, chewing at the inside of his cheek. His gut is twisted up, painfully so, and he can feel goosebumps prickling over his skin, like his body's defense to being close to Michael again. Michael smiles and backs up, eyes locked on the blonde in front of him. He turns away, walks over to a car on the corner and gets in. There's a flash of hazel curls, quite like the boy Michael had been talking to the day prior sported, and the window rolls down, enough to let air in but not to see any faces.
Josh is mindlessly playing on his phone when Luke turns back, doesn't seem to acknowledge Luke's presence until he taps the boy on the knee. "Did you just see that?"
"Seems like Clifford's taken a liking to you," Josh teases. His tone is light and airy, but Luke can feel the uncomfort Josh hides under it, how his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes and how it quickly falls from his face once Luke's looked away.
A liking, that in itself was terrifying. He was an almost perfect match to the boys in the rumors and the realization made his stomach twist up.
Luke frowns, letting out a groan. "Listen, let's reschedule, I've got a lot of homework and I'm exhausted, okay? I'll text you and Ty later." He pulls his bag down from the wall and slings it over his shoulders, fingers knotting in the long straps. Josh nods and mumbles out a goodbye before Luke turns, heading down the street.
His room is an absolute mess, clothes strewn about and a lamp knocked over. It looks like a hurricane has gone through, torn up the place and left Luke standing on the bed, wide-eyed and lost. Michael's standing there, halfway through Luke's doorframe, smiling. He looks absolutely flawless, fucking radiates a positive aura that chokes Luke, has him desperate for air and Michael's hands.
"Made a mess, baby?" He steps further in and Luke nods, can't seem to find his voice, doesn't really need it, doesn't think he'd be able to form actual words if he could say anything. A lightbulb pops, the room darkening slightly, seems like every shadow in the room amplifies as Michael moves in closer. He holds out his hand and Luke grasps it, lets out a soft noise at the coolness.
Michael chuckles, seems entranced with how Luke stumbles off of the bed and onto the floor, has to look up at the older boy. He's not on his feet for long, hands are on his hips and he's falling back onto the bed, landing with a 'omfph' and grabbing Michael's shoulders as the older boy crawls on top of him. "Absolutely stunning," He caresses Luke's cheek and leans down to nuzzle the boy's throat. "Give me everything." He nips at Luke's throat, humming when the blondes breath catches.
"Michael."
He doesn't remember the walk home, it's a blur from leaving Josh at the wall to finding himself in the armchair in his living room. He can feel Michael's lips on him, his hands and can hear the echo of his words through his ears. It feels so real, his stomach churns and he wants to cry. Michael hadn't even touched him but his presence lingers, fingers on his hips and lips on his throat.
"What are you doing?" Ben's voice breaks through Luke's thoughts. He's by the front door, keys in hand and his eyebrows knit. It's understandable that he looks confused, worried even. Luke can only imagine how dazed he must look, sat in the armchair rigid and lost.
He shakes his head, words failing to pass by his lips.
Ben steps closer slowly. "Luke?" The younger boy blinks at his brother. It feels as though his tongue is being held, forcing him to keep quiet. It doesn't feel wrong, not even terrifying. It feels like a choice and Luke's fingers curl as he realizes so. "Luke, are you alright?"
"No." It falls from his lips no louder than a mumble, soft but strong. Ben furrows his brows further and drops down to his knees before his brother, grasping his knee.
He looks to be at loss for words and Luke pities him. The feel of his hand warm on Luke's knee is reassuring, although Luke doesn't know why. He has no fear at the moment, he feels calm and strong but Ben's touch adds a second bit of reassurance.
"What's -."
Luke shakes his head, cutting Ben off. "I don't know." And he doesn't. He feels smothered suddenly, overwhelmed and closed in. The heavy weight on his shoulder lessens and Luke lets out a huff of air. He sees Michael's eyes, bright green and intoxicating, invading his thoughts. His face isn't there, just the harsh color that bleeds into the background until Luke sees nothing but black.
The school is dark give the glow of emergency lights illuminating the otherwise black halls. It's quiet, every squeak of Luke's sneakers echoing off the empty walls and lockers. He's never been in school at night, not alone at least and not in the dark.
The hair on the back on his neck stands on end and a shiver racks his spine. His tongue is heavy with Michael's name, swollen and achy. He wants to shout, bounce Michaels name off the bleak walls and have it hit him hard in the chest, reverberating through his body.
He knows Michael is in the school, watching Luke dig his nails into the flesh of his palm and grit his teeth.
The wind howls outside and lightning strikes, illuminating the dim hallway. Luke sees him at the other end, the bright strike of red hair and feral green eyes biting into his own. He's too clear, as if he's only inches from Luke and not yards away.
"Michael." Luke breaths his name, chest heaving as he utters the word. The boy smiles, grin dangerous and full of something Luke can't decipher. It's intoxicating though and Luke finds himself walking towards Michael without his own accord. He beckons Luke forward in silence, lips curling up, and Luke dutifully moves to him.
He's not twenty paces from Michael when thunder crackles. The grin on Michael's face diminishes as Luke pauses, stiffening at the sudden noise. His eyes are ablaze and Luke's on fire under his steady gaze.
"Come to me, Luke." He doesn't sound like he had earlier at school. His voice is deeper, thicker with something Luke doesn't know how to pick apart. Luke begins moving towards him again, slower this time, his feet pacing out the trek as if his mind hasn't fully accepted the plan of being close to Michael.
Michael steps forward, reaching to touch Luke's hand. His touch is cold and hard and Luke struggles.
"What -" His voice breaks and his words trickle off. Michael fixes him with a hard glare.
"You, Luke." Michael says. He pushes Luke back, forcing him against a locker. The scene changes and they're now in the locker room, close to the showers and far from the exit. Michael touches Luke's bottom lip with his pinky finger, a smile toying on his own mouth. "I want you."
Luke has no words for this, no concept of how he should feel or act. His words have failed him yet again, but this time Ben isn't there to read between the lines.
Michael licks his lips and Luke finds his gaze locked on the wet tongue swiping across Michael's mouth. His teeth are too white, bright and straight, and Luke's breath catches as he stares on. His body aches for something he's never felt, deep in his groin and sending tingles to his fingertips. He wants to touch Michael, to burn with him and the soft touches he's left behind.
"You're mine, Luke."
He does nothing more than nod, lost in a dazed thought process that locks his senses away. What Michael says sounds right and Luke's immersed in his presence.
When Michael kisses him hard on the mouth and nips at his lower lip, hand on his hip and the other on his back, Luke flourishes into the touch, pressing back with an eager mouth. He wants to please Michael, soak himself in everything Michael gives and devour himself whole.
"Do you want me?" Michael pulls back and whispers. He cocks an eyebrow and Luke's breath catches.
He swallows. "I-" He hears ticking and looks to the clock over the coach's door. The hands spin wildly and Michael grabs Luke's face in a tight hold. His nostrils flare and his eyes seem to sparkle with anger. His grip tightens on Luke's jaw and the blonde cries out, pressing hard against the locker in an attempt to lessen the pain. "Michael, please."
Michael sneers, lip curling up and he's gone, leaving Luke panting against the locker. He doesn't remember holding his breath, but he's lightheaded now and all he can feel is Michael's touch, hard and unforgiving, on his hip and face. There will be bruises, he's sure of it, but his thoughts cloud over quickly before he can process any more of the night, and the locker room fills with bright light.
He's in his bed, boxers and a t-shirt covering his body and his blankets thrown off the side of the bed. The alarm clock on his nightstand is dancing wildly, bright red numbers blaring seven o'clock and beeping.
Luke hits the snooze button and rolls over.
Michael had touched him last night, hurt him even. Luke swallowed hard, rubbing at his eyes with the open end of his pillowcase. No tears have fallen but his eyes feel full of water and his heart, aching and heavy. He'd hesitated and Michael had lashed out.
This was the first time Luke had a firm recollection of one of his Michael dreams and it scared him how vivid this one had been. He's afraid to get up and see his face, and the tell-tale bruises Michael had left behind. Luke can feel them, the heavy, aching press from Michael's fingertips digging into his jaw in anger.
"Luke?" Ben knocks on his door and waits a moment before entering. Luke lays facing the wall, silent. He doesn't want to talk to Ben, he knows his brother carried him upstairs yesterday afternoon and that he'd blacked out. He doesn't want Ben's pity or questions that he has no answers for.
"I'm up," Luke finally says. He can't hide all day and Ben will call their mum if Luke stays home sick. He rolls over slowly, waits for a remark about his face. His older brother stares at him, eyes soft and brows knit. He looks concerned as he purses his lips.
"Do you want to stay home today?"
Luke shakes his head. He has a test in maths and Tyler is going to work with him on their science project in study hall. "No, I'm okay." Ben nods and looks Luke over. He nods again and neither say a word before he leaves the room, closing the door softly behind him.
His heart hammers in his chest. Ben hadn't made any remarks or asked any questions about his face. Luke sits up and swings his feet over the bed, hovering over the floor. A sick feeling of discomfort sweeps over his body and he retracts his feet, looking down at the carpet. It swirls and ripples, and suddenly is the hardwood floor Luke had grown up with.
That couldn't have just happened, it's impossible. Luke stiffens as he leans forward. The flooring doesn't move, nor does it become carpeting again. Tentatively, Luke steps down onto the cool wood. His whole body is tense, prepared to scramble for the bed at any sudden change.
Nothing moves and Luke bounds across his room for the door, holding the handle like a lifeline. His breath has caught in his throat as he eyes his bed. Nothing's changed and his mind floods with doubt; he must have imagined the floor changing.
He wants to call for Ben, ask to stay home and curl up back in his bed and sleep off the nightmares plaguing his thoughts. Instead, he makes the best of his dour morning and steals a mug of coffee before starting his day.
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