This is my first 5SOS fic - written as a bribe for a close friend :) It had to reach a certain amount of pages, hence the useless stuff at the start, but bear with it ^^ (also, no proper cover for the moment, I am too lazy to make anything haha ^^")
I'd appreciate any feedback, if at all possible ^^
-
Michael worked in a pretty generic coffee shop.
It was found on a street that was busy during the day but relatively lifeless at night; there were never any speeders or break-ins at the multiple other stores, but then again, there was nothing of real value - a bookstore connected to the coffee shop, a 2-dollar store across the street, a day care, a pretty cheap pet store with a few sickly fish - nothing worthy of stealing to be honest.
That was besides the point.
Michael liked where he worked. Lots of strange and unique people came in, both regulars and one-timers. There was a comic-con twice a year at the arena about twenty-minute walk from the shop, which was only five minutes form the train station, so there were a lot of strangely dressed people who stopped here during those weekends.
The store itself was pretty decent. The store-front needed a repainting, but the inside was made mostly of varnished wood and glass, so it has a nice feel. The manager constantly played a jarring mix of boy-band pop mixed with soft, classical music, which Michael found to be a little distracting at times, but altogether it was tolerable.
The food was okay - there were lots of fresh sandwiches and little macaroon things, many of which Michael had never tasted himself. The drink range was much larger - they basically had everything, from Oreo Chillers to Caramel Lattes.
Overall, a pretty cool place to work.
Pay was good too.
It was a Saturday when Michael came to a realization - well, he didn't come to it personally, but it was brought to his attention.
During his shifts on Saturdays, Michael worked with two female co-workers. Both Anastasia and Cotton knew each other, and had for a long time, he believed.
Anastasia was only slightly taller than Cotton, at about five-foot-four, which in comparison to Michael's own six-foot-three was rather puny. Her hair was long, reaching her waist, and she had a fringe that was swept away from the middle of her face to the side, exposing her smooth forehead. Her eyes were a weird shade of blue that was sometimes grey but still blue at the same time.
Cotton was almost the polar opposite. She stood at about five-foot-three and no taller, with slightly wider hips and chubbier thighs than Anastasia. Her hair was short and slightly curled at the end, touching the bottom of her ears in a forever state of fluffiness, in her own words. Her hands and fingers were small and strong, and her eyes were an unsettling caramel colour that could stare through anyone's soul quite damn easy, if you asked Michael.
Both were rather devious, and to him, it seemed as if they could communicate through their minds or through just a single look.
Females were strange creatures.
"Oi, beanpole."
That was definitely Cotton - her crisp yet effortlessly girly tone was easily recognizable. Michael looked down to spot her small fingers reaching to jab him in the side - he was too slow to dodge her.
"Ow! What the hell." It came out more whingey then he expected, but Cotton brushed it off.
"See that guy?" She questioned in a hushed tone, peering around his frame before turning those overpowering eyes up at his own green irises. "At table four-"
He blinked, frowned, then turned to look, only to have Cotton jab at him again.
"Don't stare!" She hissed.
Michael huffed, frustrated. "Look, but don't stare? Totally doable, midget- Don't jab me!"
"Don't call me a midget." She puffed out her cheeks, stuffing her hands in the front pockets of the uniform apron they wore. It was big on her lengthways, so when she started working here she had had to have it taken up.
On the other hand, the blue-and-brown apron had been small on Michael. "Anyway, what are you talking about?"
"She's talking about that cute blondie." Anastasia provides briskly as she trots past, carrying a tray of dirty plats from table three. "With the lip piercing, right?"
Cotton nods approvingly. "Yep, the cute one."
"He is rather cute."
"Very tall, though."
"Very." Anastasia agrees before she was gone again, a cupcake in one hand and a coffee blend in the other.
Michael sighs. Females - very, very confusing. He'd never get their telepathic ways. "You know, I have no idea how to tell if a guy is cute. A girl, on the other hand-"
"Ha." Cotton interrupts, though it wasn't a laugh, but more of a sound of disbelief. "Whatever floats your boat, meathead."
"Will you stop with the insults already?"
"They're terms of endearment, nerd."
"Right."
"Don't be sarcastic with me." She jabbed him again."Ow, okay, okay! I get it, stop it already." He was trying not to pout - trying.
"Isn't he cute, though?"
Michael glanced over his shoulder - conspicuously this time, so as to avoid getting another bruise on his ribs. The blonde in question was sitting at a table with another guy. Even sitting down Michael could tell the blonde was probably pretty tall, though not quite as tall as he was.
He frowns again. "You know, I don't think I will answer that out of concern for my health."
Cotton let out an exasperated huff.
Anastasia whisked past again, starting to look tired. "Get to the point, angel. My arms are getting tired here."
"What point are you trying to make?" Michael questions.
Cotton folds her arms. "He's into you."
Michael was silent for a moment.
Then, he laughed.
Cotton jabbed him, hard. "Shut up, beanpole. You're drawing attention."
"S-sorry." Michael was finding it difficult to talk through his laughter. Really, how did females think anyway? "What on earth makes you think that?"
Cotton had a frown tugging at her thin lips, of which were coated in a very thin layer of lip balm - she bit them too much, she said. "I definitely know."
"Right." He dragged the word out. "Well, I'm just going to get back to work-"
"Oi, listen to me." Cotton demands, gripping his shirt sleeve. "He's been coming here for two weeks on your shifts now, that can't be a coincidence."
"He probably likes Anastasia."
"No way, not his type."
"Or you know, the coffee."
"Let's be honest, your coffees taste like crap."
"That's insulting."
"Good. Now listen to me, he always comes on your shifts, and he looks at you a lot-"
"We really should be working." As Michael turns back towards the coffee machines, where he had been previously cleaning the nozzles from earlier during the day, Cotton says one more thing.
"He's been staring at your ass."
"What?!" He exclaims, whirling around, which was a dangerous thing to do with height like his.
"It's true."
"Oi-!"
"You do have a pretty hot ass." She was looking rather thoughtful.
"It's very adorable." Anastasia giggles as she slumps across the counter, being mindful of the register and pamphlets scrawled across the surface. "You have a cute patoot."
He was sure his face had never been so red, nor had be been quite this mortified. "Stop that!"
"What, don't you appreciate attention from two beautiful girls?" Cotton bats her eyes at him, forcing a pout.
Michael felt a shiver run down his spine. "N-not from you guys..." He would regret saying that, he was sure, but it just slipped out. "I-I mean! Like, I like it, I am a guy, and you girls are cute an all, but-"
"Eh?" Anastasia looks at him through somewhat narrowed eyes. "What a perv."
She was joking, but Michael still gave her a look.
"You should do something about him." Anastasia says, absently twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.
"Don't tell me you believe this midget as well." Michael deadpans, reaching up a hand to rub at the back of his neck. "It's ridiculous."
Anastasia merely shrugged.
"And I'm not gay."
"Tell yourself that all you want, princess." Cotton shrugged. "Go ask him out already."
"Not happening." Michael was sure he was flushing red again, goddammit. He most certainly was not gay - he definitely liked boobs. Definitely.
Right?
Right.
"Stop thinking about boobs." Cotton says. "I know you are."
Michael jumps, glancing down at her, startled.
"Oh, you are a pervert after all." Anastasia chuckles. "I knew it."
Michael sighs gruffly. "You both are too much. I'm not gay, that guy isn't gay, stop with the fantasies. You'll do my head in, one day."
"Or he will." Cotton mutters under her breathe, making Anastasia giggle. "You're definitely into the D..."
He rolls his eyes.
"Well," Cotton lifts her head and squares her shoulders, staring at him unwaveringly. "I'm not serving their table. Are you, Ana?"
She shakes her head, hiding a flirty smile behind her hands. "Nope."
"Really." It was exasperated, Michael knew that, but he couldn't help but slump at their antics. "You're really playing this game? What are we, five?"
Cotton shrugs, before moving around form behind the counter. "Whatever age we may be, the tables still have to be served and I have inventory to sort through, so off you trot."
Anastasia was nodding in agreement at this point as she moved to take Cotton's place behind the register. "Go and get him, tiger." She growled.
Michael tried not to roll his eyes again. If this was the game his co-workers wanted to play, then who was he to deny them? He wasn't gay, and he was fairly certain a random customer at their store who happened to come here at the same time he was working wasn't either.
It only took him a moment to clean the rest of the machine he had been previously working on before Michael found himself faced with a problem. Females, as it so happened, and in particular the females he worked with, had a way of getting words to stick into the heads of males such as himself. As such, when the blonde and his friend make their way to the register to order, all he could think of was what they had said-
Not the most intelligent thing to do while working, he realised.
"H-how can I help you?" He stuttered, he most definitely stuttered-! God, he would so very much like to get back at those pretty little girls just once in his life, but alas, that did not seem like a possibly probability.
"Um, I'll have a regular decaf and a blueberry muffin." The friend says. His hair was dark brown and looked rather thick - the colour itself matched his eyes, which were rather striking in a sense that reminded Michael of Cotton. "Luke, what do you want?"
Luke - so that was his name. It seemed to fit his face, which from this close did appear to be rather attractive. Michael liked it, and upon realising that, wanted to strangle himself. Not gay, he reminded himself, definitely not gay.
"Just a regular hot chocolate and a slice of strawberry-cream cake?" Luke mumbles, the tips of his ears red, as if he had been out in the snow for too long. His words came out as more of a question than a statement, and Michael was somewhat puzzled - he expected... well, he didn't know, but he was clearly confusing himself over his confusing thoughts.
"Sure, no problem." He said, rather robotically, as he rung up their price and accepted the money they offered. "Eat in or take home?"
Luke opened his mouth to answer, but his friend beat it to him rather quickly.
"Eat here!" He said, loud enough to make Michael look up from where he was pulling out their correct change - if he was honest with himself, he was looking for the cleaner coins to hand Luke, though he refused to acknowledge that fact. The friend looked embarrassed when Michael stared, but not as embarrassed as Luke, who seemed to be turning an alarming shade of red rather quickly. his friend cleared his throat. "Uh - eat here."
"Alright." Michael answered, handing over the change.
Luke and his friend returned back to their table, but not before Michael heard the hushed words Luke hissed.
"Calum, you are so uncool!" Luke groaned. "That was so embarrassing! What the hell, man."
"Hey, I did what I could! That guy is a giant, I panicked!"
Michael blinked, feeling somewhat insulted.
"Calum, seriously! He's definitely thinking we're weirdos or something now, what do I do?!"
"Why are you asking me? I don't know!"
"Oh my god."
"Oi, beanpole." Cotton jabbed him with her elbow this time, seeing as her arms were full with a tray of freshly backed gingerbread cookies. "Stop staring at blondie's ass."
"I'm not staring at his ass."
"You totally are, douche."
"Am not."
"Blondie's ass looks delectable, you're definitely staring."
Michael realised he had begun staring at Luke's ass the moment Cotton brought it up, and found himself turning his gaze down onto her rather witheringly. "His name is Luke, anyway."
"Oh ho ho, already on a first-name basis are we?" Cotton taunted.
"You move rather quickly." Anastasia said, covering her mouth as she appeared behind Cotton, ready to meticulously display the fresh food. "Definitely a pervert."
"What even-"
"He's looking at you again." Cotton cut in.
Michael groaned. He could never get a break. "Just go give them their orders okay? I'm going to make the drinks."
"No need, I shall do it for you as a humble act of servitude." Cotton says, pushing him out of the way. "Get your ass over there and flirt up your blondie."
"Seriously-"
"Here." Anastasia cuts in this time, casually brushing her long locks over her shoulder as she slides a tray towards him. On the tray were Michael saw she had already placed down their ordered food - a perfectly shaped blueberry muffin on a small white plate, and a triangular shaped strawberry-cream cake on a matching plate with a little silver fork.
Michael felt like their scheming would get him seriously injured one day, but chose not to say so. With a resigned sigh, he lifted the tray and made his way towards the table where Luke and Calum sat.
"Here you go." He said as he slid the plates onto the table, hyper aware of exactly how close he was to a rather flustered looking blonde without the counter in the way. "The drinks should be ready in a minute."
"Thanks." Calum answered.
"No problem." Michael was sure to move away quickly, distracting himself by clearing away the tables Anastasia had chosen to ignore, probably because they were too "dirty" for her tastes.
He wondered if he was blushing, because it had certainly felt rather pleasing to have Luke fluster over his presence - and he hardly even knew the guy!
"Damn you, Cotton." He muttered sourly. At this stage, he was sure that the little devil-woman's words had gotten to him - there was no way some random guy he just met was gay, he was overanalysing everything way too much. He needed to just focus on work, then go home and sleep the night away.
As if the world was utterly against him for the day, another unwanted distraction entered the store.
Such a distraction being none other than his closest friend, Ashton.
He and Ashton had been close friends since the start of high school - their friendship instantly clicked, and it wasn't even a year before they had become inseparable. That fact hardly changed after school, even with the both of them pursing somewhat badly-planned career paths.
In Michael's opinion, Ashton was a pretty cool guy. He was tall, at an even six-foot-one, so Michael still had a few inches on him, but Ashton was always full of energy and an endless supply of conversation. His hair was light brown, and his eyes were a kind of bluish colour, the kind all the girls in high school had positively swooned over.
Their friendship had transcended to a level where being an annoyance to one another was common - in fact, it was expected, which was why Michael was always bothered when Ashton decided to visit him during his working hours.
"Hey Michael." Ashton had a grin on his face that didn't tell of any mischief, but he could never be sure with this particular brunette. "Sup?"
"Obviously I'm at work." Michael says as he hands the dishes over to Anastasia, who took them to the kitchen to be cleaned. "Have any reason for interrupting?"
The grin didn't fade, not even a little. "Not really. Ana texted me, though."
"Did she now?" Michael sighed, moving behind the register. "Order something so you don't look like a creep, will you?"
"Yeah, whatever. Just give me the usual." Ashton brushed off the comment, resting his elbows on the counter. "Do you really have a man-crush on-"
"No." He deadpanned. Of course Ana would text that, but the more he thought about it, the more Michael started to think Cotton had tricked her into doing it.
Ashton pouted, though the effect was lost on Michael. "I think you swing that way, bro."
"We've had this conversation before."It was true, they had - on many occasions. A few years before graduating high school Ashton had come out as bisexual, though no one was really shocked. He was a likeable guy, and in return, he tended to like everybody. Michael couldn't think of a single person that didn't get on or had some sort of issue with Ashton throughout the time they had been close.
Well, except his two little step-siblings. They always fought, though never seriously.
And, you know.
Siblings didn't count.
Anyway, Ashton was a likeable guy, end of story.
"I know you, Michael. You're definitely into guys." Ashton says, sounding very sure of himself. "Even if you still like girls, I think you'd be better off with a guy. Females and you just don't mix."
"I can agree to that... at least with the females I hang out with, anyway." Michael mutters, before shaking his head. He takes the money Ashton offers and makes him a normal coffee absentmindedly. "I don't know, Ash. I've never thought seriously about any of that relationship stuff, but I think I'd prefer a girl."
"You've dated girls before." Ashton points out.
"Yeah, and?"
"And they never worked out."
They hadn't, but Michael didn't need to admit that.
It felt like he was losing this conversation, though it wasn't really an argument in the first place anyway.
"Why don't you just try with a guy?"
"Did Cotton put you up to this?"
"Maybe, but that's not the point." Ashton says.
"Hold that thought." Michael sighs deeply once more. "I've got to serve these drinks." He carefully places Luke's and Calum's orders on the tray, before moving over to their table.
He notices that Luke has already eaten more then half of the cake, and feels a mild sense of satisfaction. The cakes here were the best, he liked to think. He himself didn't buy them from anywhere else.
Though maybe he was a little biased.
"Here we are." Michael says. "One decaf, and one hot chocolate."
"Thanks." Calum grins. He had an almost childish grin that kind of reminded Michael of a somewhat younger Ashton. He had the absent thought that they would get along well. He noticed that Calum was staring pointedly at Luke - who suddenly seemed rather flustered.
Michael wondered if the cake didn't taste as good as he thought it looked. "Cake taste alright?"
Luke turned his widened blue eyes up at Michael, startling almost as if he hadn't realised Michael was there. "Yep. Its good. Tastes fine. Really good, nothing to worry about."
Michael felt like flushing himself, though he didn't quite understand why. "Alright then-"
"Hey-" Ashton slide into place beside Michael, casually resting an elbow on his shoulder. He had a sly grin on his face, and a look in his eyes that only spelled trouble for Michael. "Cake's really good, right? Best food you can get around here."
"Ashton!" Michael hissed. "I'm working now, buzz off-"
"Oh we don't mind." Calum interrupts, before extending a hand. "I'm Calum."
Ashton grins wider, and clasps his hand. "Ashton."
Michael wanted to sigh, and possibly whack his friend upside the head. He knew they'd get along, after all, Ashton got along with everybody.
"Can we join?" Ashton asks, and before Calum had even answered, he was sliding into the booth next him and making himself positively comfortable.
Michael was sure he had never felt so many pairs of eyes fall on him this quick. Luke could hardly look at him, and Calum was looking just as expectant as Ashton, though Ashton had a brow raised very tauntingly.
Michael shrugs. "Why not?" He said, sliding into the spare space next to Luke. Their thighs brushed as he made himself comfortable, and he was sure he'd never felt this warm sitting next to somebody before.
-
Michael was screwed.
He was sure something was wrong with him - he'd only spent an hour or two slacking off work talking, but Luke was so damn attractive and he had killer dimples and when he laughed, which he did rather often, his eyes would get all sparkly and goddammit.
Michael was not gay.
Nope.
Not happening...
Okay, maybe a little. Just a little!
But Luke was very attractive, full stop. He rationalised that it was only natural to find other people attractive if he thought they were - after all, girls said other girls were hot when they weren't lesbian. This didn't mean he was gay.
Not even for Luke Hemmings.
But, he was fairly certain Ashton had a thing for Calum. The guy couldn't be any more obvious, but most of his flirtations were hidden behind an overly bright personality.
Unfortunately for Michael, he was not so subtle.
At all.
But he still wasn't attracted to Luke.
"Dude, you are so in denial." Ashton was positively beaming. He watched Michael as he finished cleaning the table tops at the cafe.
It'd been a week since their long conversation with Luke and Calum. Ashton had gone all out with the charm for Calum, and now they constantly texted, though Michael didn't have Luke's number. He still felt hesitant around him, not because he was maybe a little attracted to him, but because he wouldn't know what to do or say if Luke maybe happened to be a little attacked to him too.
Really, it was more confusing that being with females.
"I'm not in denial."
"You so are."
"Am not."
"You like Luke. It's so obvious, man."
Michael had the decency to flush as he jerked his head away from Ashton, hiding his expression, whatever it may have been. "Do not." He mutters.
Ashton was grinning widely know. He knew he had won this argument. "Aw, don't pout Michael. You look like a wounded kitten when you do."
"I so do not look like a kitten." Michael grumbles, frowning at his energetic friend. "I'm totally a lion."
Ashton burst into laughter. "Sure, sure. Whatever floats your boat."
Anastasia pops her head from out the kitchen, a dishtowel in her hands. "Michael, your shift is finished." She says. Cotton wasn't on shift today, so Anastasia wasn't quite as meddlesome. It was getting pretty late, too, so she seemed a little tired, though no more than usual for this time of night.
"Okay, cool." Michael reaches behind himself to untie the apron around his waist, and hangs it up, before grabbing his things from under the reception desk where they lay next to Anastasia's highly decorated pink phone and handbag.
"Ready to go, then?" Ashton questions.
Michael nods, following him out of the store. Ashton and Calum had planned for them to all go out tonight, though Michael wasn't sure where to.
Really, it couldn't be that bad.
-
It was bad.
Very, very bad.
Alright, maybe Michael was over exaggerating a little, but he was certain that Ashton and Calum believed this was a double date and because of that maybe Luke thought this was a double date and he wasn't sure if he wanted Luke to think that or not.
Because, you know.
Not gay.
Also, the movie Ashton picked was a horror movie. Michael didn't do scary things.
And evidently, neither did Luke.
In the cinema, where it was dark and quiet and kinda cold, Michael felt extraordinary close to Luke. He could feel the body heat radiating off the blonde through his fashionable clothing, and when they sat in the kinda small seats, their knees almost kinda touched again.
Michael was sure he was red, but was so thankful the darkness hid that. He was also pretty sure Luke was red, though that didn't matter because he was not gay.
That's what he told himself anyway.
The movie itself was hard to concentrate on at first, but then the suspenseful music and terrifying graphics drew Michael in and he found himself with a heart beating too fast and sweaty palms.
"Oh god." At some point, he faintly heard Luke muttering. "This is pathetic. I hate scary movies. Why does someone always have to die?"
He wanted to smile, in fact, he was pretty sure he was smiling even as he tried to cover his mouth with his hands. That little spark of glee didn't last for long, though, because then some girl from the movie was screaming and a chase scene was beginning and Michael was sure the harsh music blocked out both his and Luke's shrieks.
Of course, he didn't realise he'd grabbed onto Luke until the chase scene was dying down. Luke himself was clutching the arms of the chairs, eyes wild, and he hadn't seemed to notice Michael clinging to his side like some overgrown koala. Michael hadn't felt so aware of his long limbs until them, because he felt odd being so wrapped up.
But then he was distracted by another dead scene that had creepy children and some monstrous creature with beady eyes and sharp teeth filling the screen. Luke shrieked again, but Michael managed to hold his own in, because Luke had turned to gripping him in return, and his heart had started to beat fast for another reason altogether.
"Luke, you're such a pussy." He laughed above the noise of the movie.
Luke's eyes turned to look at him, and he was smiling. "Yeah right, you screamed just as loud as me!"
"Did not!"
"You so did!"
And there were the dimples again. Damn them. They should be illegal. In fact, it should be illegal for anyone to look as good as Luke did in the skinny jeans he was wearing, but-
And he was getting distracted, again. And, with a start, he realised he was staring intently, enough for Luke to notice and watch him back quizzically.
Way to go, Michael.
So smooth.
-
After the movie, they went for pizza. It was dark outside, and kinda cold, but the pizzeria was hot, so Michael didn't mind. Exiting the theatre, he had felt much better than when he entered - more relaxed, less tense.
Seeing Luke in the light, Michael felt as if he were looking almost at a completely different person. Luke's blonde locks were somewhat dishevelled, and his cheeks were flushed from the sudden temperature change.
Conversation was also much easier between them. Michael felt as if he were in a world all of his own, but with Luke too - it was strange, but it was a sweet escape. He didn't feel nearly as disconnected as before.
They all ordered the same thing at the pizza shop - ham and pineapple. Michael felt very relaxed as they sat around a high, round table on tall stalls that let him swing his legs just a little. Every time he did, he could feel his feet bumping into Luke's. Maybe that was why he did it, but maybe it was because Luke always bumped his back, without either of them really realising what the other was doing.
It was nice to just hang out and joke around over pizza. Michael hadn't done anything like this in a while; all his high school mates had gone off and done things, and he really only talked to Ashton regularly nowadays. He sometimes hung out with Cotton and Anastasia, but being the third wheel with two best girl friends was worse than being the third wheel with a couple smack-bam in the middle of the "honeymoon" stage.
"I'm a Scorpio." Michael said, when the topic came up between him and Luke.
"Cancer." Luke answered with a grin. He was in the middle of eating a slice of pizza layered with pepperoni - his favourite topping, apparently. "Do you like music?"
Michael grins and nods. "Yeah. I play guitar."
"Me too!" Luka laughed.
Really, Michael was beginning to enjoy his company. They had so much in common, yet it wasn't enough to make them feel too similar.
"Do you dye your hair often?" Luke asks next.
Michael nods, rubbing the back of his neck almost bashfully. "Yeah, I guess so." He laughed. "I like this colour, though." It was dark at the moment, with purple hints.
"I do too." Luke nods in agreement. Almost instantly, he flushed scarlet. "U-um, I didn't- ah..."
"It's all good." Michael laughs, seemingly brushing off Luke's comment, though under the table he was nervously rubbing his knees together.
Did Luke like him? Like, like a friend, or like a... something more? A boyfriend? Did Michael like him like that?
Ugh... He wasn't sure of anything anymore.
But still, he couldn't help but feel attracted to Luke. Not only physically - because damn was he a body and face to be jealous of - but personality wise, as well.
Luke was the kind of person he could easily get along with, in a different way to the way he got along with Ashton. He felt comfortable around Luke - after the initial stage of awkwardness, conversation flowed freely, and he wasn't feeling self conscious of himself like he often did back when he went on dates with girls in high school.
Maybe he liked Luke. Like, as in like like. He wondered if he could possibly date Luke, but then the insecurities came back. He'd never dated a guy, obviously. Was it like dating a girl? If he did date Luke, he didn't want to mess up.
It felt like something you only got one, precious chance for.
-
They walked home. It wasn't too far to the apartment buildings, and Michael found that they all lived relatively close to each other. Ashton and Michael shared an apartment a few floors up from the ground, while Calum and Luke shared a similar one a few blocks away.
This way of housing benefited all of them in the same way; with bills and high-living prices and the cost of food, sharing the financial burden was beneficial to everyone involved.
"Do you like living with Calum?" Michael asks as they walk side by side. Calum and Ashton were messing around ahead of them, seemingly bickering, but Michael knew they were just teasing each other about something or other.
"Yeah." Luke answers. "But he hates it when I flood the bathroom."
Michael raises a brow.
Luke flushes. "When I shower."
Michael almost blushes, but forces a laugh. "I get it."
"And Calum likes to walk around naked a lot." Luke muses, looking thoughtful. "If I hadn't known him for so long, I'd be mortified, honestly."
Michael laughed. "Not as bad as Ashton. He turns from an energetic fluff ball into a dad. He hates when I swear - calls it potty mouth, of all things. I'm not three, you know?"
Luke laughs. "Sounds like fun."
"Yeah, I guess."
A comfortable silence enveloped them. Michael wanted to find something to say, but he felt like the silence was welcome, so he stayed quiet. Every so often, his knuckles would brush against Luke's, accidentally of course.
"Um, I have to ask..." Luke started awkwardly, looking to the side. "But, is this a date? Or something..."
Michael stopped up short, his brow furrowing. He looked away for a moment, but it seemed enough to make Luke take a step back.
"Ah, never mind! Sorry- um, I'm sorry, I mean-" He was reeling, and for a moment, Michael felt a strange sense of guilt overcome him.
"No, wait-!" He started. He didn't know where his words were coming from, but they weren't stopping. "I don't mind."
"Huh?"
Michael reeled, deinfetly blushing this time. "I said I don't mind." He mumbles. "If this is a, you know... date..." He said even quieter. The words shocked him almost as much as they seemed to shock Luke, who was quickly turning as red as he was.
"C-cool." He answered, before nodding to himself. Michael wasn't sure why, but for a few moments they stood there awkwardly, before a short bout of laughter reverberated between them.
Yeah, hanging out with Luke felt good.
They continued walking, realising that their roommates were getting further and further ahead of them."So..." Luke dragged out, glancing at Michael from the corner of his eyes.
"Yeah?"
"Do we... hold hands? Or what..."
"Y-yeah. Sure."
Luke was the one to reach for his hand, even though Michael agreed to it and it was Michael's hand that had been brushing against Luke's for a while.
Luke's hand was warm, and his palm was a little sweaty, but so was Michael's. His fingers were long, and easily fit in the gaps between Michael's.
Again, Michael was struck by just how warm Luke felt. He never been with someone who could make his heart beat so fast just by holding hands.
They walked at a leisurely pace, hands swinging ever so slightly. When the apartment building where Michael and Ashton lived came into view, Michael found that Ashton and Calum had already disappeared up the flight of stairs.
Luke's phone buzzed. Their hands disconnected, rather reluctantly, and Luke unlocked his phone to read the text.
"Calum says to wait for him downstairs. He's walking Ashton to the door, apparently." He chuckled.
"I'll wait with you." Michael offered bravely, a little anxiously.
Luke grinned.
His anxiety disappeared. "Give me your number?"
"Sure." Michael took the phone from Luke, trying to ignore the brushing of their fingers, and entered his number, before handing the phone back.
"Do you want to hang out some time?" Luke asks. He sounded nervous. "Like, just us?"
"S-sure." Michael answered, eyes widening just a little. "Sounds cool."
-
It was official. Michael finally decided that yes, he did in fact find Luke very attractive, and yes, he did like Luke, as in like like.
Luke planned their "first date". They went to the beach on a day when neither of them had A pre-planned activity or work.
That was the day Michael decided that Luke was very attractive. His first glance of Luke's naked torso made him take a double take.
Luke had a slim waist and attractive hips, as well as toned arms and shoulders that gave him a very masculine shape. Michael could tell he was the kind of person who looked after themselves, but was also naturally gifted with good metabolism and unblemished skin.
He felt self-conscious at first, because he certainty didn't look at that, and when he thought of all the late-night maccas' runs he's been on, he felt very queasy.
But Luke looked self-conscious as well. He seemed hesitant to remove his shirt with Michael around, and knowing that he was as nervous as Michael made him feel a little better. He didn't have a body to be ashamed of, and if he wanted to eat take-out, then who was there to stop him?
After they tired of the beach, they went to Cold Rock and gorged on too much ice-cream to be considered healthy. Luke loved the cookies-and-cream flavour, an Michael made sure to make a mental note of that for future reference.
Once again, at the end of the day they walked home - though Michael didn't pluck up the courage to grab for Luke's hand until they were already halfway home.
When he was safely in his room after showering all the sand out of his hair, he found the crappy calendar he always forgot to hang up from in his closet and sat on his bed. With a red marker, he wrote "First official date - cookies-and-cream" on the day's date.
He picked up his phone after that, and scrolled through his text history until he found the first text Luke had sent him so he could save Luke's number. It was a penguin emoticon - Luke's favourite animal. On the date he sent it, he wrote "Penguin" and after a moment of thought, added "holding hands" because technically that was the first day they did that too. It took him another few minutes, but he found the date when they first talked in the cafe, and wrote "first words spoken" and then added "good cake" with a cheeky grin spreading across his face.
Michael found that Luke was also a good texting buddy. They texted almost constantly outside work, and eventually, they had another date planned - by Michael this time.
Being a relatively unromantic guy with no clue how to seduce another guy, Michael's plan for a date was pretty botched from the get go.
He wasn't good at dates, but he realised he was a pretty lucky guesser.
He took Luke to the aquarium. Of course, he should have realised that Luke was enamoured with penguins, but when they reached that enclosure, he grinned so wide it was breathtaking.
"Look, Michael!" He'd gripped Michael's arm really tightly and practically dragged him towards the enclosure where a little pack of fairy penguins were waddling across ice and sliding on their bellies into the water.
By the end of the penguin enclosure, he had so many photos of Luke posing in front of the penguins he was sure his memory was almost full. He couldn't help but take so many though - Luke was smiling so broadly, it was as if he had never been any happier. It was hard to drag Luke away from his beloved non-flying birds.
They were making their way through a glass tube that shot straight through a large tank when Michael realised they were holding hands again.
Other people noticed too. A woman with her hair pulled back into an impossibly tight bun seemed to sneer at their joined hands in disgust as she bundled her small child, who hadn't even noticed them, away.
Michael had looked down at his feet, dejected. Luke had felt his grip slacken, and then noticed the woman. Michael felt his stare, but couldn't meet it. There had been a sour feeling in his stomach that he wished had never arrived.
But Luke had gripped his hand tighter and stood much closer, close enough for the shoulders to always touch. He had grinned his dimply-grin, and turned his head up to watch a large shark slowly power through the water.
"Look, Mikey! That shark looks so cool!" He'd exclaimed, tugging on Michael's hand.
Michael's eyes had been drawn up almost instantly. He felt his mood lift, because Luke evidently didn't care that others would stare and disapprove of any romantic or intimate relationship they had, and he just didn't care.
When he went home, a newly bought shark plushie ready to sit on his pillow, he had written "Mikey" and "In love with that smile" on the calender.
The next things he wrote all meant something to him. He marked the times he first heard Luke sing with "voice of an angel" and the second ice-cream date with "cookies-and-cream squared". He marked "can't live without his smile" on the day he realised Luke's smile was the one he couldn't live without seeing, and "first hug" for when they finally embraced. He wrote on the days he found out Luke's favourite movie, and the day he first met Luke's family, and then the first day Luke met his.
When it came for him to write "first kiss" he realised that maybe he more than like liked Luke, because he'd never kissed anyone with softer lips or warmer cheeks or a kinder smile. On that date, he also had the pleasure of writing "officially boyfriends" because he'd blurted out the question to Luke just before kissing him, to which Luke had shockingly nodded and asked "C-can we kiss, then?"
And really, how could Michael refuse?
It was the dimples, he swore.
"First time I realised I loved him" was the next thing he wrote, because it was after a long night of texting and after a long day spent together doing nothing but talking that he realised he missed Luke's company more than ever.
Eventually, he realised he wanted more. He counted out a certain number of days, leaving enough for him to fill in many more dates on the calendar, and wrote "The day I tell him", before closely the calendar, and drifting off to sleep.
-
One of the days he filled in was "first fight". They were in his and Ashton's apartment, and Luke was staying over for the first time. Michael was in his Pikachu onesie, and Luke was in his penguin one.
Really, they didn't fight over much. It was over how to build their pillow fort - looking back, Michael couldn't help but laugh. It was so ridiculous, but they also argued over which movie to watch. Of course, Ashton had walked out to find them entangled in a onesie pile of limbs, with them both red-faced and frowning, and when they realised what exactly they had been doing Michael had looked at Luke and Luke looked back and they couldn't help but burst into a fit of giggles.
Michael wrote "first sleepover" on the date next to "first fight", and added "penguin boy" as an afterthought.
At that point, Michaels wallpaper was a photo of he and Luke together, though he had neglected to mark that on his calendar. It was a really good photo as well - Luke had his "selfie" face on, and was clutching his penguin plushie from the aquarium under his chin, while Michael held the camera in one hand and threw the other over Luke's shoulders. Luke's eyes looked very blue in the photo - it was one of the reasons he chose that one out of the many he had to use as a wallpaper.
Another date he wrote on was the first time they kissed more than just a press of the lips - of course, thinking about it made Michael blush and fidget, but he couldn't help but smile. He'd never been interested in affectionate displays with anyone before, but with Luke, he just wanted to kiss and hold hands and share ice-cream and hug all the time.
Luke was a breath of fresh air. Michael knew that he had issues, ones that he should have probably been on meds for, but with Luke he didn't feel hardly as tired or slow or sad anymore. If anything, Luke was like the sun.
His smile shined just as bright, too.
Of course, Michael still had bad days. Issues like that can't be fixed by entering a relationship, and it was stupid to think they could. There were days when Michael blew off Luke for hours, when he didn't want to get out of bed and when he ignored Ashton's banging on his door.
But, sometimes, on some of those hard days, Luke helped.
"First connection" was the label Michael wrote on his calendar.
It wouldn't make sense to anyone but himself, he was sure. No one felt like how he felt, because no one else was like him - but he felt like Luke understood, just as much as Ashton and Cotton, maybe even more.
That day was particularly bad.
Michael didn't have work that day. Nothing had gone particularly bad the day before, either. He just woke up with heavy limbs and slow breathes and an intense desire to cry.
He wasn't sure what triggered him, but he didn't want to move. He was satisfied with lying under his covers, his legs tangled in the sheets, completely alone. It was just one of those days.
But his mind wouldn't shut up. No one likes to hear their own thoughts, because no one can hide in their mind. His guilty conscience ate away at him - he was supposed to go out with Luke today, but he couldn't even muster the strength to send him a good morning text.
Why would Luke be with someone like him anyway?
What was he worth?
Those were the kinds of thoughts that suffocated him.
But then Luke was there. Luke waded through the bad thoughts and opened the curtains - he was the key that allowed light to filter in through the blindfold over Michael's eyes.
He didn't ask questions when he found Michael slumped, limp under a pile of sheets. He calmly kicked off his shoes and took his keys and phone from his pocket, placing them on the bedside table quietly. He knew Michael was awake, but he didn't try to make a conversation or force Michael to talk, because he understood.
Instead, Michael found that the space on the bed beside him was dipping under Luke's weight, and the covers were shifting so that the taller blonde cause squeeze under and find his way into Michael's little isolated cocoon.
His hands were cold, Michael remembers. His cheeks, too. It was probably cold outside, but Michael was so, so warm at that moment that he couldn't remember ever feeling anything different.
Honestly, when he thought of how he'd spent bad days like that before, all alone, the echoing emptiness in his chest seemed to expand. It wasn't as if Ashton hadn't helped him through times like, because god had he, but this was different.
So, so different.
Luke created a world where it was just them. It was just Michael curled up on his side in his silly pyjama pants and a loose sweater, his hands fisted into sweater paws to cover his mouth in a relaxed position. It was just Luke lying with his arms around Michael, even though he remained the little spoon, in his good skinny-jeans and a stylish shirt, his beanie sitting slanted and his hair getting rubbed the wrong way by the covers.
Michael wasn't sure how long they lied there for, in complete silence. He might have fallen asleep, and Luke might of too, but he couldn't be sure.
He felt connected to Luke in a way he'd never been connected to any other person before.
-
Michael felt distracted. He'd almost burnt himself making incorrect orders today - twice even. There was just so much going through his head.
"Oi, beansprout, get your head out of your ass and work properly." Cotton huffs as she painstakingly corrects the orders Michael messed up.
"Uh huh." He mumbled distractedly, taking a moment to check his phone once again. No new messages, no missed calls, no notifications. He frowned, just a little, his brows drawing in.
"Whatcha looking at?" Anastasia asks, leaning against the counter. "Is it the hot blonde again?"
"I've told you this before, but his name is Luke."
"Mhmm." She didn't seemed to be listening, but rather, she seemed rather enraptured with Michael's wallpaper.
He felt somewhat awkward at that, and took his phone away, despite Anastasia's over exaggerated pout.
"We've been dating for months - you should know his name by now." Michael says as he stares down at the top of her head.
She flicks her hair over her shoulder absently, thoughtfully considering his statement, before deciding that she evidently didn't have to answer. "Cotton, are the orders ready?"
"Yeah." Cotton says, sliding the tray towards her work mate. She looked very frazzled, which was unlike her - her blonde hair was messy, and her eyes were kind of wide. "Here. Table seven."
"Got it."
Michael felt a little guilty. "Sorry, I don't mean to be so distracted, it's just-"
"Save it." Cotton waves him off with a huff. "I have no desire to hear about your homo love life. Whatever it is, please save it."
Michael almost wanted to laugh. He knew she didn't mean anything spiteful by it, because her tone was light and almost, just maybe, a little affectionate. He wondered if he acted any differently, or spoke in a different way, since he had started dating Luke.
That blonde really was good for Michael.
Michael was sure that this was to the day to say it. He'd picked the right day - written it on his calendar all those months ago.
He'd do it today, he wouldn't chicken out.
At least, that's what he told himself.
-
He had everything planned out.
Michael had never thought about something so seriously before, but goddammit he was nervous and his palms were sweating and Luke wasn't even here yet.
This date had to be the best one so far. Michael wouldn't settle for anything less. He didn't want to screw this up.
So as he walked into his house, stressed out and reeking like coffee from working all afternoon, seeing Luke sitting on his bed so innocently flicking through his calendar was not what he wanted.
"Wha- Luke, wait- it's only six- wa..." He couldn't form the right words - everything was jumbled. All his carefully thought of plans seemed to be flying out of the window at a break-neck pace.
"Mikey..." Luke sounded breathless, and if Michael were to admit it, rather seductive. Those big baby blues turned to look up at him, widened and a little sparkly. "What is all this?"
Michael swallowed dryly. It was hard to breath through the heart pounding in his throat. "All what?" Bloody hell, his voice totally cracked, way to go Clifford. So punk rock.
Luke stood sharply, brandishing the calendar like some kind of shield. "All these dates! Did you write them?"
Michael stiffened, his shoulders tensing. "So what if I did?" He grumbles, snatching the calendar from Luke's loose grip. He'd never been so mortified.
"But..." Luke trails off. He seemed to face a moment of indecisiveness. "How did you... how did you remember all that stuff?"
Michael startles, turning to stare at Luke. "How could I not?" He states before thinking. "Uh..."
Luke flexes his fingers, a nervous habit Michael noticed the blonde had. "That's..."
"Stupid, right?" Michael jerks his gaze away. His blood was pounding through his veins so fast. Everything was happening to quickly. He wanted to rip up the stupid calendar.
"No!" Luke shouts. He shook his head, reaching out to grip Michael's arm tightly. "No, it's not! I just can't believe you remembered all that... all those things about me. It's like... I just didn't expect it."
"Is that so."
Luke flushed a deep red. "Well, you're not exactly a romantic guy. I didn't think you were, anyway, cause its just not your style. But, you still had that, and there are so many things written down and... it's just, it makes me feel really happy."
Michael looked at Luke properly this time. "Does it?" He asked hesitantly.
Luke nods furiously. "It does! No one had ever done anything like for me this before." He pauses for a moment, and everything is silent. "So... what exactly were you going to tell me?"
"Huh?"
Luke points to today's date on the calendar, where "The day I tell him" was written.
Michael flushes. He didn't know how he could have forgotten about that so easily - after all, it was just that that had kept him so distracted all day. "Nothing."
Luke starts to pout. "No way, tell me!"
"Forget it!" Michael replies, turning his head away in hopes of hiding his red cheeks, but Luke was starting to grin wide enough for him to know he could see straight through him.
"Tell me." Luke insists, pulling Michael closer, close enough for him to feel Luke's warmth through his clothes. "Please?"
Michael's face was burning. His heart had never pounded quite so loudly between his ears, and he was sure his palms were at least twice as sweaty as before. "But I had it all planned out." He whines half-heartedly.
Luke just giggles. "Go on, say it."
"You sound like you know what I'm gonna say." Michael mutters.
"And if I do?"
"Then I'm not gonna say it!" Michael cries, embarrassed.
"No, just say it!" Luke was obviously trying not to laugh. Michael wanted to hit him, but then Luke did the damned puppy dog face at him, and leaned even closer. "Please? For me?"
Michael fixed his gaze to the side. If he was gonna say it, he was not giving Luke the satisfaction of seeing the absolute mortification in his eyes. Quietly, he mumbled it.
Luke was definitely trying not to giggle again. "What was that? I didn't hear you, Michael!"
"I said I love you!" He blurted, louder.
There was silence for a moment.
"There, I said it." He mutters sourly, red right up to the tips of his ears. "Happy now?"
Luke was positively beaming. With more strength then Michael thought he had, he put his arms around Michael and squeezed. "Very!"
Michael couldn't help but let out a small, barely noticeable sigh. He put his arms around Luke's waist and squeezed back. He was the type to hug tightly, but with Luke, he was always that little bit tighter, like he never wanted to let go.
He wasn't sure he did in the first place.
"Well?" Michael mumbles into the crook of Luke's neck.
"Well what?"
He was deinfetly teasing, taking full advantage of Michael's embarrassment.
"You asshole." Michael let out a short kind of laugh, though he humbled quickly, becoming nervous. He suddenly felt insecure. "Are you... are you gonna say it back?"
Luke chuckled, pulling back far enough just to kiss Michael with closed lips. His eyes and expression were soft - he was practically glowing. "Of course I do. I love you very much. You make me very happy, Mikey."
"You sap." Michael teased, though his usual taunting tone was replaced by one of evident relief.
"Not as sappy as you." Luke sung. "That calendar is so cute."
"Shut up!"
"No way!" Luke was giggling again. "I can't wait to tell Calum!"
Michael gaped and spluttered. "No, don't tell them! I'll never live it down! Luke!"
Luke just laughed. "Oh Michael, you're so easy to trick!"
And just like that, it was like a switch flipped in Luke. He gripped Michael by the shoulders and pushed him down until he fell flat on the bed, his eyes widening in shock. Luke straddled his hips, and pinned his arms down. The calendar lay forgotten by Michael's head.
Luke bent at the waist until he was face-to-face with Michael, his eyes hooded into a look so arousing it made Michael uncomfortable.
"That'll be our secret, right?" Luke questioned. He sounded breathless again, but not in the same was as before. "Just us."
"R-right." Michael croaked, eyes still wide. He knew Luke could be seductive when he wanted to be, but damn if this wasn't completely erotic.
Luke grinned, and licked his lips. Michael's eyes followed, pausing on Luke's lip ring for a moment. "Good."
-
"So why do you love me?" Luke asks as they lay side by side on his bed, their legs tangled and Luke's hand wandering up and down Michael's neck.
Michael flushes, frowning just a little. This thing Luke had about liking to embarrass him was, well, embarrassing.
"Go on, tell me." Luke grins widely. "I wanna hear why."
Fine then. If Luke wanted to play that game, Michael would make damn sure he would win.
"You're attractive." He starts, making Luke snort. "You eyes are shiny and blue like the ocean, and your smile reminds me of the sun. You're very warm, and whenever you touch me, I feel a little less cold. You're voice is my favourite sound, but I still love it when we're quiet. You understand my problems, and you don't push my boundaries. You put up with my bullshit, and godammit if there isn't a lot of that, and you hardly ever complain when I'm a complete dickhead. You let me be clingy, and you never complain about wanting time to yourself. You're all I think about, day and night, and if that doesn't spell love then I don't know what the hell does."
Luke, for once, seemed shocked into complete silence. Michael stared defiantly, just daring Luke to tease or laugh.
But then Luke started blushing. Really hard. Right up to the ears. "Wha- but, you- wait, Michael-"
"Oh my god are you crying?! I didn't mean to make you cry! What did I say-?"
"I'm not crying!" Luke laughs shakily, reaching for Michael, who curls into his chest with a displeased little sound. "I'm not crying. I don't think you realise just how happy you make me, Michael Clifford. No one had ever made me feel so valuable before."
"Well why wouldn't you be?" Michael mumbles, his voice muffled into Luke's chest. He almost sounded insulted, because someone didn't believe his Luke was a perfect as he saw him to be. He gripped Luke's waist just a little bit tighter, tangling their legs ever further. "I love you."
Luke smiled - it was the smile that was like the sun again, with added dimples on top. "I love you too, Mikey." He said, pressing his nose into Michael's hair. "And if you were wondering, I love everything about you, even when you're being a asshole." He says light-heartedly. "Your cuddles make up for it."
"Damn right they do." Michael mutters, though he was smiling as he nuzzled under Luke's chin. "You give good hugs too."
Luke chuckles. "Well thank you."
"You're welcome."