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Friday nights were football nights, and despite loathing the sport, it was Michael’s favorite night of the week. Three years ago, when he was a freshman, he loathed Friday nights. He didn’t understand why the band had to stay for the whole game instead of leaving after halftime. He had competitions pretty much every Saturday following game nights, usually with call times earlier than school would typically start. Now, as a senior, it's his favorite night, and it definitely didn’t have anything to do with his boyfriends.
Okay, maybe it had something to do with them. He couldn’t help it, what used to be hours of irritation turned into hours of watching his favorite people do their favorite things. Ashton, running on the field as the star quarterback, Calum, standing proud on his cheer box hyping up the crowd, and Luke, taking the field before and after the game to sing the national anthem and alma mater with the choir. And he knew that during stand tunes and the halftime show, they stare right back.
It was 4 p.m. exactly, and Michael was on the brink of either a panic attack or a merciless rampage, he couldn’t decide. It was fifteen minutes until call time, when the entire band needed to be in full uniform with instruments ready to warm up. Five minutes prior, he had gotten a text from the flute section leader saying they were stuck in traffic and would be late to call time. Normally it wouldn’t faze him, just giving them laps or a written assignment as a punishment, but that particular night the band director decided to give new stand songs, meaning they needed to learn two entirely new pieces in less than half an hour, and still have time to run through the halftime show music. Hell, he skipped lunch and dinner that day making sure anyone who needed help with it got all the help they needed. As drum major, it was his duty to make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible, and to be second in command to their teacher, Mr. Feldman.
Figuring there was nothing else he could do to further prepare the band, Michael stepped outside for some fresh air. He was sitting on the edge of the planter, lost in his thoughts when someone stopped in front of him. His emerald eyes shot up, locking into deep brown ones. He smiled at his boyfriend, clad in leggings and one of Ashton’s hoodies, uniform in hand. His dark curls styled so they fell right onto his forehead, and silver glitter stuck on both of his temples, a cheerleader trademark. Without saying a word, Cal plopped next to his boyfriend, close enough their shoulders and thighs were touching.
“Mikey, stop gnawing on your lip, they get fucked up enough at games as it is. What's wrong?” Calum lays his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder, ignoring his reminder of “hey no PDA I’m in uniform Cal.” He raised his right hand to lightly scratch underneath the blue-haired boy’s jaw, smiling as he leaned into his touch.
“I don’t know, all the flutes are late and Feldy’s being kind of a dick, but when isn’t he on a show night, and then we’re out of sax reeds for this kid and nothing just seems to want to go smoothly right now. Our show tomorrow is a big one, we can't afford to have a bad run tonight” Michael spilled out in one breath. After taking a second to catch his breath, he continued, “no one takes band seriously like they do choir, cheer, or football. We can’t keep being the joke.”
Calum let out a sigh before standing and pressing his forehead against his boyfriends. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment before he spoke. “Mikey. No one takes the band as a joke, not since we got Feldman last year. Not since you got the position. Now,” he paused to place a soft kiss on his forehead, “go in there. Rehearse the pieces, the flutes can figure it out when they get here. Relax, it's going to be okay.” After placing a brief kiss on Michaels lips, he turned and walked into the bathroom. After taking a few deep breaths, Michael rose, straightened out his uniform, and headed inside to rehearse his band.
Michael really wanted to believe Calum that everything would be okay, but the way the band was playing was atrocious. The trumpets needed to shut up, the clarinets needed to play way louder, the saxophones needed to slow down, the tubas needed to speed up, and it was going to give Michael an aneurysm. Normally the awful sound wouldn’t bother him, because there was always more time to rehearse, however with only ten minutes until they needed to be on the field, he was sure his hair would be grey by then end of the night. Accepting defeat, he lined the band up and marched down to the field to a drum cadence. His face remained stoic, but his insides were churning. If they sounded bad, it was his fault. He’s the one that's supposed to lead them, they’re his responsibility.
Once the band was seated in their designated area, Michael was finally able to pull out his phone. He texted the only boyfriend that would have the capability of responding, given the circumstances.
Mikey
I s2g im gonna have grey hair by the time the game is done
Lukey
ok boomer
but actually r u ok?
Mikey
band
Lukey
What else is new lol dont worry bby just think about the pizza milkshakes and cuddles after the game xoxo
Michael grinned slightly, remembering it was Calum’s turn for post-game date night. Each game night, the boys would take turns hosting date night, but they never swayed with their choices, being far too tired after games to attempt to do anything more. It didn’t matter whose house they were at, game night meant pizza cuddles and movies. It was more, they switched off whose house they went to, with the exception of Ashton’s house. The thought of food made his stomach growl, he couldn’t wait for the game to end.
Mikey
u rite u rite lol
i love u good singing or whateva
Lukey
<3
Michael tucked his phone back into his uniform pocket and put his gloves back on. The best part, in Michael’s opinion, is since he’s drum major, he gets to wear gloves and a cape. Not a large one, spanning no more than the length of his shoulders by the length of his back, but the stiff material draping is back made him feel important. Maybe it helped that his boyfriends are obsessed with it and got as many pictures of him wearing it as they could, but the cape itself was pretty cool too. He turned to the section leaders sitting behind him, giving them the go ahead to let their sections remove their coats. It was early September, but the relentless weather made the thick wool uniforms unbearable for more than a few minutes, but Michael was stubborn and always left his on.
After taking a headcount for the third time, Michael finally relaxed and took a look around. There was a sizable amount of people filling the stands, but it was nothing like it would end up. By the end of the game, the stands are packed and bustling with music and voices and laughter. His gaze wanders to the field where the opposing team is warming up, and student council members are running around like headless chickens. He watches them for a few moments in amusement before gazing at the track where he can see the cheerleaders milling about, some stretching, some talking, a few just standing around. His eyes shifted to where his boyfriend’s position usually was, but found a different girl in his place.
He burrowed his eyes in confusion, Calum was always in the front row third from the right, too far away from Michaels position on the left side of the bleachers, in his opinion. He was scanning the group of athletes before realizing he had been positioned directly in front of Michael the entire time. Calum noticed his boyfriend finally noticing, and dramatically blew him a kiss. Michael grinned like a lovesick idiot, enjoying seeing his boyfriend in his favorite place. Calum was already over hyper and excitable as it was, but when in his pristine white uniform in front of a crowd, he came alive. Michael could watch Calum perform for hours and never get bored, not with the pure energy just radiating from the boy.
Michael blew a shy kiss back and laughed when Calum pretended to fall off his box to catch it. He grinned, running his tongue over his lips, they were raw and sore from the anxious chewing. He was about to make another, possibly more obscene, gesture when the emcee began his announcements.
“Good evening ladies, gentlemen, and nonconforming friends, to the Liberty Valley vs. Babylon rivalry game. Special thanks to our sponsors...:” Michael tuned out the man, turning to prepare his band to stand up, telling everyone to put their instruments down and stand up. “Now without further adieu, please welcome the Babylon High School Chambers Ensemble to sing the national anthem.” Michael watched as the group took the field, right in the middle of the 50 yard line, Luke being last to get into position. As they sang, Michael tried really hard to just look at the flag, but staring at Luke was much more fun, especially after he realized his boyfriend swapped his own letterman jacket for Ashton’s. He chuckled, remembering the Calum’s was currently on the floor by the foot of his bed, his own probably laying carelessly on one of his boyfriend’s bedroom floor.
Once the song had ended and the band returned to sitting, he pulled out his phone once again to text Luke, only realizing he had one waiting for him.
Lukey
y do u have ur coat on? its a billion degrees out here :(
Michael
Its only hot bc im out here :)
Lukey
mikeyyy ur gonna die its too hot take it off
Michael
already? dont you think we should wait till were at cal’s ;)
Michael looked in the direction of the choir kids, instantly spotting his boyfriend. He watched as his eyes read the text, the way his face flushed as the blush crept up his neck. Michael smirked in satisfaction, loving how easily he can make Luke react.
Lukey
stfu u know what i mean, u almost pass out at least once a year
plz just take off the coat like the rest of the band
Michael
bby ty but im ok promise i have water and im sitting
besides i look sexy in this cape
After not receiving a response, Michael turned his attention to the band kids behind him, pretending to listen to the conversation, adding polite smiles and laughs when necessary. Not even five minutes had passed before he received another text, this time from Mr. Feldman, telling Michael to get the band onto the field, that the team was coming soon. Following orders, he stood and turned around to the band, relaying the message. Once coats had been put back on and all instruments were in hand, he led the group down the bleachers and onto the track to warm up. The band easily fell into formation, making his job much easier. He took his place in front of the band when he realized he needed his box. It was a solid black box, used whenever he had to conduct the band at a close range. He was tall, but not tall enough for the back row to see his conducting. As if sensing the distress, Calum appeared next Michael only moments later, eyes twinkling with adrenaline.
“Well you look more stressed than usual.” Calum grinned cheekily and threw an arm around Michael, laying his head on his shoulder. Michael rolled his eyes, knowing that the glitter adorning Calum’s temples was most certainly now covering his shoulder.
“I left my box in the band room, so I’m trying to figure out how to arrange them so they can all see me.” Michael responds, not even turning to his boyfriend. Calum huffed at the lack of attention, so he turned to stand in front of him, blocking his view from the band.
“Sugar, what do I stand on during games?” Calum asked mockingly, knowing the idea hadn’t even crossed his boyfriend's mind.
“A…. box- hey Cal do you think I can use your box for a second?” Michael finally looked up and made eye contact, staring into his boyfriend's beautiful brown eyes. Calum responded, but Michael didn’t catch any of it, too entranced by the beautiful boy in front of him. Despite dating him for four years, and knowing him even longer, he still loses all brain function when near him. Any of his boyfriends for that matter.
When Michael finally returned to reality, Calum had already placed the box in front of him, offering a hand to help him up, which Michael took with gratitude. As he stepped up, Calum placed a kiss on his knuckles, making Michaels stomach erupt in butterflies. The pleasant feeling was interrupted by a dizzy spell so intense it threw him off his footing. He tried regaining his balance, but ended up falling off, and falling straight into his boyfriend's arms. Luckily, as a base for the cheer squad, he had the muscle mass to easily catch him.
“Woah, be careful love. You alright?” Cal asked worriedly, putting Michael up on the box, but not letting go. Michael tried to nod, but he was still slightly dizzy, so he settled for a mumbled yeah. Once the stars finally fled from his vision, he let go of Calum, offering a thankful smile, before turning his attention to the band. He expected his boyfriend to walk back over to his team to finish his warm up, but he stood cemented to his side. Michael was about to say something when he saw Mr. Feldman entering the stadium. Not wanting to disappoint his teacher, he announced what warm up they would be doing and began conducting, trying to ignore the nagging headache that was beginning to form.
After two warm ups, a scale, and tuning, the band made their way to the inflatable tunnel that the football team, more importantly his boyfriend, would run through any minute. The band made their way to their usual positions, followed by cheer, then the banner they burst through. Since all the band plays for the tunnel is the fight song, all Michael had to do was count off and pray it doesn’t fall apart. There was still a few minutes, so he decided to go around and tune instruments again. Halfway through tuning the band, he saw the football team huddling together behind the tunnel. It only took a moment for Michael to spot his boyfriend, the front of the huddle as always. When Ashton finally turned, his face was stoic, barely visible behind his helmet in the dark of the tunnel. Michael bit his lip, racking his eyes up and down the man in front of him. When Ashton gave the thumbs up, the signal to start the song so they could run through, Michael almost didn't catch it, too distracted by the way the uniform pants hugged Ashton’s legs. It took a moment, but he finally processed the signal and called the band to attention, signaling the emcee to announce the team taking the field. He counted off, setting the tempo, and the band played the song just as flawlessly as always, relieving his stress from the poor rehearsal. It was Friday night, they were just being lazy earlier. Relieved, he turned to the team, all jumping around hyping themselves up, giggling to himself as Ashton does a full toe touch jump. I guess leaving him and Calum on the trampoline all day paid off, he thought to himself. Once the song had progressed, Ashton let out a roaring “lets go!” and the team sprinted onto the field. As he passed, Ashton squeezed Michael on the shoulder, something he had done even before they were together, but Michael had butterflies just as intense as the first time.
While the student council moved the inflatable tunnel, Michael led his band back into the stand to play pep tunes for the first half of the game. He let everyone pass in front of him, taking a headcount as each student passed him. 15...16...19.. wait- Before he could finish his thought, a sharp pain stung his head, a dark haze settling over his vision. He quickly forced his eyes shut, clamping a hand over his eyes, rubbing his temples. A wave of nausea hit him like a truck, but as soon as it came it went, all of it. There was still a light lingering headache, but there was no threat of vomiting and his vision had cleared, so he walked up and took his previous seat as if nothing happened.
It was halfway into the second quarter when the sun finally set, the only lights being those illuminating the field and the stands. There was a time out, so the band had taken the liberty of filling the gap with Hey, Baby! His personal favorite pep tune. His back was to the field, attention on the band. He could faintly hear the cheer squad doing their routine that goes along with the song. He was confident, his school was up by 13 points, never once letting go of the lead. He cut the band off just as the play was resumed, grinning confidently at the band. They had been killing it all night, and he was proud. As everyone returned to their seats, Michael turned his attention to Luke, sitting just a few rows away, laughing alongside the other choir kids. At some point in the night, his face had gotten spirit painted, complete with dots around the eyes and paw prints on his cheeks.
Michael let his eyes drift to Calum, who was currently standing with his hands behind his back, pom poms on the ground in front of him, ready to jump off the box to stunt whenever the next touchdown was made. He was having what looked like a lighthearted conversation with his coach, his eyes squinted from the permanent smile that resides on his lips. Calum was slightly sweating from the intense cheering, so his curly hair clung to his forehead in the most adorable way. Michael wanted to run his hands through it, maybe tug on it the way he knows Cal loves.
Finally, not wanting to get ahead of himself, his eyes drifted to the field where he attempted to find Ashton amidst the other uniformed players. Once he spotted the familiar number, his gaze followed wherever his boyfriend ran. Ashton was good, everyone knew it. Everyone was sure, if anyone on the team was going to be scouted, it’d be him. He watched for a few more moments, looking away just before Ash got tackled. He hated watching tackles, they scared him, reminding him of the time Ashton got tackled once and couldn’t get back up. Level three concussion.The thought of it makes Michaels stomach churn. Turning his attention to the scoreboard, there was only ten minutes of play time left before halftime. Technically speaking, it’d probably be closer to half an hour before they had to take the field, so just enough time to get everyone prepared.
He stood quickly, wanting to get the band to the warm up area already, but as soon as he stood he had to sit again. The pain and nausea were back, more intense than before. He gasped, clenching his head in pain.
“Mikey, dude, you good?” He could hear the color guard captain, Awsten, asked quietly. He nodded as best as he could, but it only made it worse. He made the come here motion, and Awsten was quick to comply, plopping on the bleachers next to him. “Mike?” Michael could only nod and whisper.
“Headache. I’ll be fine, it comes and goes, can you get the band to the field? Have Rian warm them up, do whatever you do with guard. Have someone set up my podium, I’m going to text Feldy.” Awsten gives a short nod, and places a gentle hand on Michaels shoulder.
“Here, drink this, take your time, we’ll take care of the band.” He passes Michael a bottle of water and stands up, following orders. Once the band was cleared and on the field, Michael pulled out his phone and texted his director.
M. Clifford
Halftime is about to start, Rians warming up the band, Awsten’s got the guard
everyone is still accounted for
He considered mentioning his health, but decided against it. It was just a headache, a good night’s rest he’ll be good as new. He discarded the full bottle of water into his bag and made his way down the bleachers slowly, ignoring Luke’s concerned gaze. He could feel it burning into the back of his head, but he kept walking, knowing that if he turned, the dizziness would come back. The pain subsided by the time he made it to the front of his band, thankfully. He released Rian of his duty, allowing him to warm up alongside everyone else. As the buzzer sounded, signalling the end of the quarter, the band finished their final warm up.
The order of the halftime show was always the same, first cheer would do their routine, then band, then finally the emcee would do giveaways on behalf of the school sponsors. Michael took his usual seat on Calum’s box, watching the cheer team fall into their opening formation. Entranced, Michael’s eyes never once left Calum, and vice versa. Brown eyes locked on green, a cheeky grin adorning his face, knowing Michael loves watching him move. He was dancing skillfully, rolling his hips fluidly, sticking the landing of every stunt he did. Michael watched as Calum’s muscles flexed while holding up a smaller member, tossing her in the air and catching with ease. The routine ended with a girl standing on his shoulders, he was gripping her ankles while she stood tall and proud, both fists in the air. The audience was roaring, but all Michael could focus on was how the sweat sheening Calum’s face was making his stomach do somersaults. At least, he assumed that was the cause. As cheer cleared the field, the band took their place. Michael rolled his 7 foot podium to the front of the 50 yard line, making sure it was locked in place before taking a step up.
He was taking the steps one by one when he felt something graze his butt. He wanted to turn to look, but he knew it would make the nausea take its iron grip yet again, so he didn’t acknowledge it. It wasn’t until there was a hand laying solidly on the back of his upper thigh that he finally turned his head slowly. There, he found Calum, gently guiding him up onto the raised platform. No words were necessary, he didn’t ask if he was okay or anything, a simple glance between the two spoke all the words that were needed. Cal held onto Michael until he was stable on the podium, but stayed right next to it. Normally, he’d be sitting on his cheer box, watching his boyfriend conduct the band, completely in his element. It wasn’t often Calum got to see Michael in his drum major mindset, but he always found it completely alluring. This time, however, he stayed directly by the opening of the podium, not wanting a repeat of earlier but without the catch.
Michael was grateful for his boyfriend, he really was, but he couldn’t help the irritation that ran under his skin when he realized the dark haired boy was still standing next to him. He was fine, he didn’t need a babysitter. So, as the colorguard finished setting their equipment and props, he knelt and turned to his boyfriend.
“Go sit. I’m fine.” His words came out sharper than intended, and he immediately felt guilty as Calum shrunk in on himself slightly. Michael was about to apologize when Calum’s mood switched like a lightswitch. He squared his shoulders and looked up to meet the blue haired boy’s gaze.
“Don’t lie to me Mike. I didn’t even mention you not being fine, so the fact you brought it up says it all.” Michael rolled his eyes and stood back up, refusing to acknowledge the boy below him. If he wasn’t going to listen to Michael, Michael wasn’t going to listen to him. So, he turned to the crowd and saluted, just like he would at a competition. The emcee took the cue to announce the band.
“Performing their competitive production entitled, Castaway, please welcome the Babylon High School Marching Band!” The roar of the crowd made Michael weak in the knees, but he held his head high and called his band to attention. The first movement of the show went flawlessly, better than it ever has, but by the second movement, he was concerned. The nausea was back, and so was the dizziness. The pain seared his brain until his ears were ringing, and the world was getting darker and darker as each second passed. He continued his conducting pattern with his right hand and raised his left hand, his first and middle fingers extended, signalling the band to continue playing if he were to stop conducting. As soon as he lowered his hand, his knees buckled underneath him and he was falling backwards, vision fading to black before he even hit the ground.
--
The relentless beeping was driving Michael nuts, but he was too tired to try to open his eyes. He laid, listening to the beeping for a moment, before processing the sterile smell of the room around him. His eyes darted open, the bright fluorescent lighting mixed with the plain white walls burning his vision. He tried lifting his hand to rub his eyes, but he found an IV taped to the back of his hand, a clear substance steadily pumping into his body. He glanced around the room, but he couldn’t find anything of interest. He raked his non-intubated hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes. With the slightly clearer vision, he pressed the nurse call button his bed.
Not a full two minutes had passed before a tall blonde lady in light pink and baby blue scrubs walked into the room. “Mr. Clifford, I’m glad you’re awake. I’m your nurse until 6 am, when Kellin is going to take my place. My name is Hayley. You had quite the fall, you’re lucky your boyfriend was there to catch you. I’m just going to take your vitals then the doctor will be in.” The blue haired boy couldn’t find the energy to answer, so he nodded and closed his eyes, letting the nurse do her job.
She was inputting his vitals into the computer when a bald man in a white coat joined them. Michael bit back a groan, he just wanted to sleep. “Mr. Clifford, I’m Dr. Madden. I’m glad you’re awake.” He walked over and stuck out a hand, one Michael was barely able to reciprocate. The doctor must have felt the lack of energy in the handshake, as he gently placed Michael’s hand back onto the bed and took a step back. In a quieter voice than he had originally used, he continued, “I’m assuming you’re exhausted, so I’ll just give you a quick rundown before letting your… friends… in.” The prospect of seeing his boyfriends sent a jolt of energy down Michael’s body. He felt like shit, but they’d make it better. “You were dehydrated and your blood sugar was scarily low. We have you on two drips, one to rehydrate you one to replenish the nutrients you need. You’ll be discharged tonight, once both IVs are gone. Since you’re 18, we didn’t call your mother, but your emergency contact is listed as a Mr. Ashton Irwin. He, and two other boys are waiting to see you, if you’re up for company. Visiting hours are over, but since you’re being discharged anyways, they can come in if you want to see them. I’ll have Ms. Hayley over there go over your discharge with you later tonight. Any questions?”
Michael shook his head, opting to just ask, “Can I see them please?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it was audible. Dr. Madden nodded before placing a reassuring hand on Michael’s shoulder.
“If you need anything, just call the nurse’s station. That red button on your bed, right over there. They’ll help if you need anything.”
Michael just hummed in response, thankful for the brief silence once Dr. Madden and Hayley had walked out. He closed his eyes as he waited, thankful the throbbing in his head was gone. He kept his eyes closed until he heard the door opening slowly. There, in front of him, were his boyfriends, looking more distraught than he’d ever seen them. Ashton was out of his uniform, but he was in the clothes he had been wearing at school all day, Calum still in his cheer uniform, and Luke in his choir shirt and letterman jacket. It was obvious they had gone straight to the hospital, not stopping at their homes for any reason.
The boys were silent for many minutes, no one willing to break the silence. Luke and Calum had silent tears running down their faces, and Ashton’s eyes were red like he had only recently stopped crying himself. It was Ashton who broke the silence, “You scared us.” His voice was low, weak, rough. Whether it was from shouting plays at the game, or crying loudly, Michael didn’t know. When the blue haired boy didn’t respond, Ashton sat on the foot of the bed, gently placing his hand on Michael’s blanketed leg. “Mike, do you know how scary it was for us? Luke and Calum came bursting into the locker room sobbing. They couldn’t say what happened, just that you were taken in an ambulance. By the time I got my phone out of the locker, I had a voicemail from the hospital saying you had been admitted. I know I’m your emergency contact, but fuck Michael I never want that phone call ever gain.” At this point, Ashton’s voice was raising, tears pouring out of his eyes. “I don’t know what we’d do without you, baby.”
It was the pet name that pushed Michael to the edge. He lunged forward and threw both arms around Ashton, sobbing. Tears poured out of the musician’s eyes, loud sobs racked his body. He felt three pairs of arms engulf him, all four boys crying. They sat like that for a while, holding each other, just waiting for everyone to calm down. Ashton was placing soft kisses on his head, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. Finally, once everyone had finished crying, Michael pulled away, disrupting the cuddle bubble.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t taking care of myself again. I got so caught up in band I forgot about myself.” He shakily inhaled before turning to Calum. “Cal, sweetheart, thank you for saving me. I’m so, so sorry I tried to push you away. Thank you for staying. Thank you for catching me.” The dark haired boy didn’t say anything, opting to instead lean forward and capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. Calum brought his hand to the side of Michael's face, gently running his thumb across his cheek as they kissed. There was no heat, just pure love. When they pulled away, Michael finally made eye contact with Luke and Ashton. He smiled weakly before beginning, “I know I need to take better care of myself. I’m sorry for ruining the night. Thank you for coming..”
Luke grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. He played with his fingers while Ashton spoke. “Mikey, baby, no one's upset, okay? We were just scared. We love you so much, we were scared it was more. You’re right, you need to take care of yourself, but let us help. Don’t reject our help anymore, okay? Sweetheart, I love you, we love you. Your IV is almost done, and then we can get you out, and to Cal’s and we can all cuddle. Does that sound good, baby?”
All Michael could do was smile and nod, letting his boys engulf him in hugs and kisses. He would be okay, he had everything he could ever need right here in front of him.