boy

by gothcalum (orphan_account)

Summary:

all luke ever wanted was to be a boy. things rarely seem to work out in luke's favor though, it seems.

Notes:

hellooo.
i've been writing this for so long? i started it last november, and i'm finally posting it thank god.
could be triggering in some parts.
female-to-male trans!luke and bigender!michael.
it would help to be a little versed in trans terminology when reading this, i didn't explain a lot, but if you don't know anything it should be fine.

 

“Are you scared?”

Michael dares to ask, his voice barely above a whisper. Luke can’t stop shaking, so Michael knows he has to be. “I can’t go off T, Michael,” Luke says quietly, his tone pitching up at the end. “They can’t make me.”

Michael’s heart drops a little, because Luke is wrong. They can make him. “I can’t go back to what I was, Mikey, I can’t--” Luke sounds suffocated, fighting for air in his lungs. “I don’t want to be a girl again,” he releases, his chest thumping with fear against his ribcage, like a bird beating its wings against bars. Michael’s hand stills on Luke’s back, right between his shoulderblades.

“Luke, I need you to look at me.” Michael breathes, leaning towards the skinny blond boy, whose fingers are shaking with terror. “You are not that person. No matter what hormones you’re on. You understand me?” Luke meets Michael’s eyes hesitantly. “You know who you are.” Michael taps Luke’s chest. “In here. Don’t let them take that from you. They can take your meds, and they can take your clothes, but Luke. I know who you are. You know who you are.”

Luke nods. He reaches out a shaking hand and takes Michael’s. “Don’t leave me, Michael. Don’t leave.”

Michael presses his lips to Luke’s forehead. “God, I could never,” he mumbles into his skin.

“Laurel Hemmings?”

Luke looks up from Michael’s grasp immediately, his gaze electrifying with even more fear, if it were possible. The name is a trigger, sending chills up his spine.

“It’s Luke, actually,” Michael says for him, coughing once.

The clinic receptionist looks down at her clipboard and immediately looks surprised. “Oh, I’m sorry.” she says, “It says that here, I didn’t realize--” she clears her throat. “Mr. Hemmings,” she emphasizes the ‘Mr.’ “Doctor Clark will see you.”

“Can he come with me?” Luke asks, squeezing Michael’s hand.

The receptionist nods. “Yes, that’s fine. Doctor Clark in room number five,” she points with her clipboard down a hallway. “Third door on the right, can I show you the way?”

Luke is drained of color, let alone energy to respond. Michael speaks up for him. “We can find it.”

The receptionist leaves, flashing another apologetic look to Luke. Luke wrings his hands and looks at Michael, stunned. “I can’t do this.”

“Luke,” Michael says steadily. “You’re stronger than this.”

Luke shakes his head. “I’m not.”

“You are."

Luke violently shakes his head again. "They're going to take me off T, cold turkey, my body will detox, I--"

"Stop." Michael says, snatching Luke's hand. Michael stands up. "We have to go in."

Luke nods hesitantly, lifting his anxious body from the waiting room bench. “You don’t have to go in with me,” he says quietly, not meeting Michael’s eyes.

Michael hesitates. He’s pretty sure he knows that means Luke wants to go alone, despite asking the receptionist if Michael could go with him. Michael understands Luke; initially, he’d want someone with him, someone to hold his hand. But then Luke realizes he knows exactly what the doctor is going to tell him, and does he really want Michael to be there to see his reaction? Of course not.

Michael smiles very weakly. “Be brave, baby.” he exhales. “I love you. No matter what. Okay?”

Luke nods. “You too.” He squeezes Michael’s hand and straightens his back, and leaves.

Michael sits back down on the bench and leans forward, fiddling with his fingers. He starts to pick off the deep magenta nail polish off his fingers, left over from the night before.

He’s more nervous for Luke than he’s ever been for himself, which hurts. It hurts like a bitch because he knows this is only the beginning. Countless hours of Luke handling withdraw, the harsh return of dysphoria, and Luke withdrawing in on himself again. Back before he got on testosterone, he was so inwardly drawn. Insecure, self-conscious, and plagued with fear of rejection-- Michael didn’t even get to know his gangly roommate until he was finally approved to start the hormone treatment.

Michael knows if Luke will even try over the counter hormones-- he could. They spoke about it briefly when they realized this was happening. But from what Michael’s heard, they just aren’t strong enough, not as strong as a prescription.

Michael feels seeds of fear finally settle in his own stomach. Not just for Luke, but for himself too. He can’t handle this on his own. He knows he’ll have Calum and Ashton, their other roommates, to keep careful watch over Luke-- But Luke relies on Michael. No one gets the gender thing like Michael and Luke do. Ashton and Calum try, but they don’t know.

Michael, the bigender obscurity, understood enough. Michael’s on his own hormones, but they’re not nearly as strong as Luke’s. Michael’s are enough to pass him off as a girl on his girl days, but he’s not reliant on them. His body wouldn’t take the impact like Luke’s will.

“Michael.”

Luke’s voice startles Michael, and he stops picking at his nail polish immediately. “Luke!” he stumbles out, standing up. Michael starts to speak, but upon seeing Luke’s red, teary eyes, Michael just trips forward and embraces Luke.

Luke is weak to hug back, but he does, his arms looping around Michael’s waist. Michael rubs his back soothingly. “I can’t believe they did this to me,” Luke exhales brokenly, burrowing his nose into Michael’s neck.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” Michael responds gently, leaning away from him to look into his crystal blue eyes. “The boys will want to see you.”

Luke’s eyes water at the word boys but he nods.

--

When they get back to the flat, Luke is trailing behind Michael with slumped shoulders and a dejected persona. The crying stopped almost as quickly as it started, a short fit of sobbing in the car, and a pained “I’m such a girl,” escaping from his lips, and Luke was done.

When Michael reaches around Luke to shut the door, he awakens the other boys, and immediately there’s thumping of footsteps coming from adjacent ends.

Calum and Ashton stumble in over each other, but both stand, stunned, in front of Luke.

After a moment, Ashton clears his throat and shakes himself. “God, Luke, what happened?”

Luke looks up. “They’re taking me off,” he says finally, his throat sore, dragged across the emotional spectrum in the car ride. “‘Says my parents dropped me from their insurance plan, and I can’t afford the prescription.”

Again, they’re shocked into silence, Calum and Ashton staring uneasily at Michael and Luke. Calum is the first to move. “Oh, Luke,” slipping from his mouth, as he throws his arms around Luke’s neck, comforting him in such a physical way that Michael was never capable to achieve.

Ashton moves forward a little more slowly, looking at Michael first, an unspoken “What are we going to do?” in his eyes.

Ashton puts his hand on Luke’s shoulder, and Luke looks up, eyes teary again. Ashton smiles weakly at him. “It’s gonna be okay,” Ashton says firmly, without a doubt. Luke blinks the tears away and nods, then returns his nose into the folds of Calum’s t-shirt.

Michael watches them, still nervous, still scared. Ashton is stronger than him, Calum more comforting. What is Michael? Sure he understands the hormones, but Ashton and Calum have more to offer. Michael steps away, and wants to leave the foyer. He wants get back in his car and drive away. Maybe, back to the clinic. There, he could just steal all the hormones, and Luke wouldn’t have to suffer.

Michael stumbles, stunned with himself-- disgusted, almost, that he would even dare to think of himself in this situation. It was about Luke, and yet Michael had to pity himself.

He snapped back into the present, automatically moving back towards Luke. But he doesn’t get the chance to touch him. Luke breaks away from the three of them, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “Thanks,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna, um,” he clears his throat. “Go shower.”

Calum bites his lower lip softly. “Do you want any of us to go with you?”

“I can shower alone, Calum.” Luke bites, almost harshly-- almost.

Calum’s face falls sure enough though. “I know,” he says. “But it wouldn’t be the first time we-”

“Just leave it,” Ashton exhales, touching Calum’s sleeve and pulling him gently away from Luke.

Calum watches with big, round eyes as Luke travels into the hallway alone. He turns to Michael immediately. “We have to do something.” he demands. “I can’t watch him like this.”

“Him,” Ashton exhales sadly.

“He’ll still be a boy.” Michael snaps defensively. Ashton perks up at Michael’s harsh tone, his own expression displaying shock.

“Michael, I didn’t mean-”

Michael presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose and leans back against the wall. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Mikey.” Ashton touches Michael’s hands and pulls them away from his face. Ashton steps closer, invading his space. Michael is taller than Ashton, but slumped against the wall the way he is, he feels small under Ashton’s warm gaze. “It is going to be okay. Luke will pull through.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” Michael asks quietly.

“He will, he has us.” Ashton dips down and briefly pecks his lips to Michael’s. He leans his forehead on Michael’s and attempts to smile at him. “Okay?”

Michael nods, and tugs away from Ashton’s grasp. “What are we going to do now?”

Calum hesitates, moving towards Michael and Ashton. “Be there for him,” he answers.

Ashton nods, and turns towards Michael. “Can we change him to an over the counter hormone?”

Michael shakes his head. “Says he doesn’t want that.”

“What?” Calum asks, drawing his eyebrows together. “Why? When?”

Michael shrugs. “They’re not as strong. He told me last night.”

Ashton exhales slowly. “He survived before he was on T,” he says, a weak effort at comforting the others.

It doesn’t work, Michael leaning his head on the wall and staring up at the ceiling. “He was miserable,” he points out. “The withdrawal, Ash--” Michael shakes his head. “It’s going to be--”

“We’ll get through it.” Ashton reinforces. “Stop being so negative.”

Michael shrugs and looks to his left, avoiding both of their gazes even more than before. He can see, out the corner of his eye, Calum melting into Ashton. Michael feels cold, despite their proximity. It’s weird, just the three of them. Things like this are rarely spoken about excluding one of them, and Michael feels lost. Like there’s a balance missing from the conversation. Luke was always there to keep Michael steady.

Michael leans away. “I’m going out,” he announces, finally looking down at Calum and Ashton.

Calum doesn’t lift his head from where it’s tucked in Ashton neck, but Ashton stares at Michael like he’s crazy with enough intensity for the both of them. “Luke needs you,” he states accusingly. “You can’t just leave.”

“I need to process.”

“This isn’t about you,”

“Fuck you, Ashton,” Michael says, but he doesn’t mean it. This finally gets Calum to react, angry eyes lifting from the confines of Ashton’s hold.

“Piss off, Michael,” Calum snaps. “Just go, it’s not like we want you here anyway.”

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” Ashton pulls away from Calum. “We need to be here for Luke.”

Ashton’s right. Michael knows Ashton is right. He teeters on the edge of what they want him to do, and what he needs to do. He knows Luke needs him, now more than ever. He doesn’t say anything, just staring at them both.

“You’re scared,” Ashton extends, stepping towards Michael yet again. “I know you are, we all are. But don’t leave. Please.” Ashton widens his eyes. “We need you. I need you.”

“I’m not moving out, Jesus Christ,” Michael exhales. “I just wanted to take a walk. But I’ll stay.” His eyes soften. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ashton and Calum respond at the same time.

“Go lay down for a bit, it must have been stressful at the clinic,” Ashton says. “I’ll come get you when Luke’s ready to talk.”

“If Luke’s ready to talk,” Michael says darkly.

Calum looks pained, and Ashton sends him a dark look. Michael gets the hint and pulls away from the two of them, finally making his way out of the foyer. He steps into the hallway, towards the master bedroom. They all technically have their own bedrooms, but all four of them sleep in the king sized bed, and most of their clothes live on the floor in the master bedroom. The only time their personal rooms are used is when they need actual privacy (Which is about never for most of them, though Michael can tell that the activity in Luke’s room is going to spike in the next few days).

Michael kicks off his shoes as he walks towards the bed, his mind swimming with thoughts. He pauses at the bathroom door, listening to the water of Luke’s shower running. Michael exhales sadly, and links his fingers together.

He hears a loud, sharp sob, over the roaring of the water, and Michael can pinpoint the moment where his heart finally can’t take it anymore, and it cracks for Luke.

--

When the withdrawal kicks in, it’s the middle of the night five days later.

For the last five nights, they’ve all fought for the place next to Luke in bed, and Ashton’s seceded almost every night, allowing Luke to lay on Michael’s chest, and Calum to cling to Luke’s body like a baby animal. Ashton lays on Michael’s other side, his fingers threading through Michael’s hair absent mindedly.

It’s three in the morning, and Ashton can’t sleep. The changes in Luke’s body have already begun. The hair on his face has virtually disappeared, and the shape of his body has reversed significantly, and it happened almost immediately.

The weight he had gained from muscle had dropped to his hips, and his waist was indented in. They had gotten so used to the way he had looked on testosterone, Luke looked nearly sickly in their eyes now.

Michael was right, Luke was miserable. While Calum, Ashton and Michael fought over the bed placement, Luke would try to escape to his own room to sleep alone. Michael would object, their eyes burning (sometimes brimming) with passion (and fear, but only Ashton could see the fear). Michael would tug on Luke’s arm and give him some bullshit reason to sleep with them, anything other than the obvious “I need you to sleep with us tonight.”

Luke hadn’t left the house since the trip to the clinic, laying around, waiting for the detox to start. Luke never smiled, unless Calum forced him to.

Ashton is pulled out of his thoughts when he feels a trembling to his side. For a moment, he thinks it’s Michael, having a nightmare, but it’s not.

Ashton looks down, and he nearly jumps out of the bed.

Luke is pale as the bedsheets, his skin sinking into the dull white. A cold, clammy sweat has broken out across his forehead, and he’s shaking like he’s sitting in the snow. Ashton shakes Michael awake.

“Michael,” he hisses. “Mikey.”

Mikey stirs, lifting his hand and rubbing it against his eyes. “What?” he mumbles, sniffing and blinking blearily up at Ashton.

Ashton’s hand is shaking and he has to will himself to make it stop. He’s the mature one, he needs to take care of them, not show them how scared he is. He points at Luke weakly.

Mikey glances down, and he startles awake instantly. “Oh my god.”

Luke’s eyes are wide now, Ashton doesn’t know how long he’s been awake. He’s staring up at Ashton and Michael in terror. His fingers are clutching to the sheets and Mikey’s t-shirt like it’s a lifeline. “M-Michael,” he mumbles out. “I think I’m gonna vomit.”

Mikey sits up, pulling Luke up with him. “Are you sure?”

“I feel- so nauseous.” He pulls himself closer to Michael. “Fuck,” he breathes, screwing his eyes shut and pressing his cold forehead to the exposed skin of Mikey’s neck.

Ashton starts to panic, rolling out of the bed and onto his feet. “Should I call 911?”

Luke looks up at him with huge, round eyes. He shakes his head violently. “No, Ashton-” he shakes his head again and again. “Just lay back down.”

Ashton bounces on the balls of his feet. “Mikey wake up Calum.”

“You wake up Calum,” Mikey mumbles, pressing his lips to Luke’s forehead. “Jesus, Luke, you’re burning up. Ash, he has a fever.”

Ash looks even more panicked, if possible. “What do I do with a fever?”

“You know how to handle a fever,” Calum says, startling Ashton. His voice is mulled over with sleep, but he’s pulled himself up so he can sit next to Luke. “Do you want me to make him soup?”

Ashton shakes his head. “No, no, I--”

Calum waves his hands at Ashton, swinging a leg over the bedside. “I’ll do it,” He slides out of the bed, and Luke whimpers at the loss of contact.

Ashton startles and crawls back into the bed, replacing Calum on Luke’s other side. He doesn’t know what else to do but hold Luke’s hand.

Michael looks at Ashton over the shaking blond, and Ashton sees it again.

There is nothing but fear in Michael’s eyes.

--

Luke catches Ashton smoking two days after that night.

Ashton doesn’t see Luke. He’s pressed against the wall outside the flat  and his eyes are closed, the cigarette hanging between his fingers by his lips. Luke doesn’t make a sound, gnawing on his lip anxiously. It’s cold outside, the light rain threatening the winter snow that’s inevitably on it’s way.

Luke isn’t sure if he’s hurt by Ashton smoking. Ashton promised he’d stop but Ashton promised he’d stop for Calum, not Luke. Luke didn’t mind.

Albeit disappointed, Luke wasn’t mad or hurt necessarily.

Ashton brings the cigarette to his lips, so Luke speaks up.

“Calum would kill you, you know.”

Ashton freezes and his eyes pop open. “Shit,” he mumbles.

Luke shakes his head, wrapping his arms around his body. “Just came outside to look at the sky. I won’t tell.” He leans against the wall beside Ashton. “How long?”

“Just a week.”

“Since I went off T,” Luke exhales.

Ashton leans off the wall to stare down at Ashton. “Look, this isn’t your fault-”

Luke shakes his head, indicating he won’t have it. “Look,” he mocks Ashton’s tone. “It’s not my fault, it’s my parent’s for taking me off their plan. They knew this would happen. I’ll bet they’re expecting me to go home and go back to being their perfect daughter if I go long enough without it.”

Ashton stares at Luke, a little taken aback. He’s heard Luke angry and bitter, especially about his parents, but usually he has to draw it out of him. Luke was willing this time.

“Can I have one?” Luke asks, his eyes flicking to the cigarette.

“Hell no,” Ashton laughs once. “Calum would kill me.”

Luke snorts, but Ashton’s right. “Have you noticed how weird Mikey’s been acting lately?” Luke asks, staring up into the sky. He can’t see the stars, they’re mostly hidden by clouds. “He’s physically protective, but emotionally distant.”

Ashton hums. He blinks slowly. “What’s Calum been like to you?”

“Good. A little… He tiptoes. You know how when like, we meet people through friends and they find out I’m trans? So they use masculine pronouns to make a point? Like, ‘Luke, you’re such a nice boy.’ and ‘Can I get you anything else, sir?’”

Ashton nods.

Luke sighs. “Calum’s been like that. Like he’s affirming he’s dating a boy. But I’m not sure if he’s affirming it to me or to himself.”

“They both really love you, Luke,” Ashton says. “They don’t know how to react. I think they’re hurting a lot for you. They just don’t know how to cope.”

“You clearly have it all figured out,” Luke comments dryly, indicating the cigarette in Ashton’s fingers.

Ashton grunts, but he grins. “I really love you, Luke,” he says quietly, the smile vanishing. “I can’t stand to see you hurting.”

Luke’s face falls. “Ashton,” he exhales. “I love you too,”

Ashton reaches out and cups Luke’s cheek. He roughly presses his lips to Luke’s. His chapped, dry lips, cold from the weather meeting Luke’s soft, warm ones. Luke pulls Ashton into him, his thin fingers winding through Ashton’s hair. Ashton tastes like smoke, thick and acrid, but hot, in a way.

Ashton, not breaking the kiss, drops the rest of his cigarette and puts it out under the heel of his boot, giving Luke full attention.

Ashton moves one of his hands to Luke’s waist, and his fingers play with the fabric of his sweatshirt. Ashton slips his tongue into Luke’s mouth and stands up a little taller, forcing the kiss to get rougher.

Luke tugs away, shaking his head. “No, no,” he exhales. “Ashton, I’m sorry.”

Ashton furrows his brow. “What’s wrong?”

“We can’t,” Luke protests, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t do it with you, not while I’m like this.” His voice is filled with venom and disgust as he points to his body angrily. His eyes pop open. “You know, going off testosterone made my boobs get big again?” he says bitterly. “You’d basically be fucking a girl.” Luke pauses, and self-loathing fills his eyes. “I am a girl.”

“Luke,” Ashton breathes. “Don’t say that.”

“Laurel,” Luke mutters, stepping away from Ashton. “They hurt like a bitch though, my boobs. They’re tender and just-- disgusting. I hate them. Trust me, you don’t want to see them.”

Ashton steps back in shock. “Luke,” is all he can say. He’s never seen Luke like this.

“Oh, and guess what?” Luke says, kicking at the ground. “I got my period today! I didn’t miss that. It’s so fucking disgusting, I hate it,” he laughs without humor. “I thought, you know, it wouldn’t be so bad. My body would detox, I’d be sick for a little while, then it’d be okay. If I just wore a binder and still dressed like a boy, it’d be okay. But it’s not okay.” Tears spring into his eyes. “I’m not okay, Ashton. I’m not. I don’t want to be a girl. But I am. I can’t fight it anymore, I don’t know what to do.” His voice is pained and strangled by emotions. He collapses into Ashton, sobs wracking his tiny frame.

Ashton is so shocked, he nearly forgets to react to Luke crying into his shoulder. “You aren’t a girl.”

“Say that to my vagina,” Luke says humorlessly between sobs.

“Hey,” Ashton says sternly, pulling Luke away so he can look him in the eye. “You can’t talk like that.”

Luke hiccups, tears not ceasing to run down his face. “But it’s true,” he says quietly. “I’ll never get to have sex like you guys do. It’ll always be different for me. I’ll always be the freak with the vagina.”

“That’s not true,” says Ashton. “What about on Michael’s girl days, huh? You don’t think he feels like that about his dick?”

“It’s different for Michael,” Luke protests. “He still- She still-” he shakes his head. “Michael still has days where his dick makes sense. This- this will never make sense for me.”

Ashton shakes his head slowly. “Baby,” he breathes. “I’m so sorry that they did this to you.”

“They fucked me up bad, didn’t they?”

Ashton runs his fingers through Luke’s hair and exhales gently. “They just don’t understand you,” he says. “They don’t see you the way we do.”

Luke blinks up at him. “And how do you see me?”

Ashton presses his lips to Luke’s forehead. “Perfect.”

--

“Jesus, he said all of that to you?” Calum asks, keeping his voice low.

Ashton nods, and glances to where Luke is curled up on the end of the couch, watching Michael play video games. “Yeah, and he just broke down.”

Calum drops his head into his hands. “Christ,” he exhales. “What are we going to do? We can’t afford surgery, Ashton.”

“I know we can’t,” Ashton says. “But maybe we can afford health insurance, you know? I don’t know, we can figure something out. He needs it, Calum.”

Calum laughs once. “You think I don’t know that? Of course he needs it, but that doesn’t mean we can afford it. We can’t afford health insurance either.”

Ashton sighs, defeated. Calum knows it hurts Ashton. Hell, it hurts Calum. They all just want to see Luke finally happy and comfortable in his own body.

“Since when are you telling me what we can and can’t afford?” Ashton asks, a light tone contradicting the topic. “I’m the mature one.”

Calum grins. “Someone has to step in.” Calum pauses, and takes Ashton’s hand. “I know I’m not very romantic and shit but, I love that you want to try and get him what he needs. I love that you’re trying. It’s…” Calum trails off, his eyes studying Ashton’s. “It’s sexy.”

“Mm,” Ashton hums, taking a step forward. “You think so?”

Calum nods. “Very hot.”

“I like you being all mature,” Ashton shoots back. “Domestic Calum turns me on.”

“Jesus!” Michael called from the living room. “Get a room, we can hear you for fuck’s sake!”

Calum and Ashton turn around. Luke is giggling at them, and Michael is rolling his eyes at the TV screen. Calum laughs, and a grin lights Ashton’s face to finally see Luke laugh-- though they both know Luke is at his lowest.

They face each other again. “I hate that we’re having this conversation without them,” Ashton says quietly.

Calum shakes his head. “We can’t get Luke’s hopes up.”

“What about Michael?”

Calum bites the inside of his cheek. “Do you think he’d be supportive? He’s a realist, he’d just tell you the same thing. We simply don’t have the money,” Calum points out. “But at the same time… Michael would be so happy for Luke. This is hurting Michael so much. He’s in so deep for Luke.”

Ashton smirks and nudges Calum. “Somebody jealous?”

Calum nudged back. “No, I love that he’s in love with Luke. He’s in love with me and you, too. But… He’s gentle with Luke. He’s protective.”

“So should we tell him we talked about it?”

Calum bites his lip again.

“We don’t keep secrets in this relationship, Cal,” Ashton presses.

“Unless they’re from Luke?” Calum states pointedly. “I’ll tell Michael but we can’t not tell Luke we spoke about it.”

--

Calum coaxed the spoon into Luke’s trembling mouth, Luke’s body shaking with tears of disgust. He’d been vomiting for the past hour and a half, and he’d been crying for the half hour. Calum slid the soup down Luke’s mouth and smiled when Luke swallowed.

“Thatta boy, Lukey.” he says, smiling. “You got this.”

“I feel so shitty,” Luke mumbled in response, “Vomiting out one end, bleeding out the other-”

“Ew,” Calum adds.

“-I want to fucking die.”

Calum turns stern. “Hey, don’t say that,” He speaks lowly, and angrily. “You don’t mean that.”

Luke nods. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Suicide isn’t a joke, I got it. But you’d say the same thing if your body was reversing back to being a thing that you aren’t.”

Calum licks his lower lip. He opens his mouth to speak, but he’s interrupted by Luke rolling onto his side and grabbing the basin by Calum and emptying his stomach, yet again. It resulted into more sobbing into the bucket. When he lifted his head, tears were rolling down his face again. He flops back onto the couch and covers his face.

“I’m so gross, Cal.”

“Stop it,” Calum mutters, picking up his warm cloth and bring it to Luke’s face. He pushes Luke’s hands out of the way so he can wipe the vomit residue off Luke’s mouth. “You aren’t gross, you’re just sick.”

“I’m disgusting.”

“That your new favorite word?” Calum quips. “You sure use it a lot.”

“I miss Michael, he just cuddles me,” Luke whines, rolling with his back to Calum, tears still rolling down his face. He’s cold and pale again, but he isn’t shaking or sweating-- that being said, at the expense of vomiting. “What if we weren’t all dating?” Luke asks quietly.

“What?”

Luke rolls back over and looks at Calum through puffy red eyes. “What if I was just your roommate. Would you do this for me?”

Calum thinks about it. “I’d be here. I’d take care of you. Wipe vomit off your mouth? I don’t know about that, you’ve got to be pretty damn in love to do that.”

Luke stares at Calum for a long time. He coughs once. “You’re in love with me?” he asks after a long pause.

Calum frowns at Luke. “Of course I am. What makes you think I’m not?”

Luke shakes his head. “No, no. I didn’t mean it like that. You’ve just never told me before.”

“I assumed you knew.” Calum said, his eyebrows raising. Luke just shrugs.

“Guess I’m not very perceptive.”

--

“Luke, are you wearing a bra?”

Luke isn’t taken by surprise that any of them noticed. Especially Michael-- Always perceptive, and his perception heightened when it came to Luke. But he is surprised, however, that Michael actually said anything about it.

Luke nods, and stuffs his hands in his hoodie pockets, wandering from his bedroom towards the kitchen.

Michael leaps up from the couch, (gaining a “hey!” from Calum after leaving their video game unfinished) following Luke. Luke pulls his hood over his head and pretends he can’t feel Michael’s eyes boring holes into his skull.

“Why aren’t you wearing a binder?” His tone isn’t accusing, it’s not even sad. It’s gentle and calm, but strained. Luke opens the refrigerator door and leans down, staring blankly at the contents.  

“‘Was hurting my chest,” he mumbles. “Having trouble breathing. Too tight. My chest was too tender.” He strings together unfinished phrases to get his point across-- the point being he didn’t really want to talk about it.

Michael, as usual, presses anyway. “How are you feeling?”

“Violated,” Luke answers sharply, swinging the fridge door shut and standing up straight. While harsher than necessary, Luke was being honest. He felt trapped in a cage of underwire, padding, and soft lavender fabric he was surprised he still even had.

Michael steps forward, but Luke immediately falls back, like Michael’s proximity is toxic. Luke can see hurt flash in Michael’s eyes, and Luke automatically apologizes.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m not- I don’t want you to touch me while my body is like this.”

Michael pales. “Luke-”

“It’s wrong, I’m wrong.” he begins to step away. “I’ll be in my room,” he mumbles, and turns on his heel, sprinting away from Michael.

--

Shaking fingers against bright cold backdrop-- violent unrest and fear shocking through unused parts of the mind, but an overpowering excitement.

Finally feeling free, finally feeling like themselves. Turning to the side, the blonde stared at their flat chest, bound tight by layers of medical bandage. It said online not to bind with ace bandages, but under the circumstances…

“Laurel!”

She knocked over the box of bandages in her shock, falling to her knees to scoop up her shirt and the box. “Y-yeah?” she stammered out.

“What are you doing in there?”

She pulls on her messy bun, tugging her stringy blonde hair down around her face. “I’m almost done!” she calls, panicking.

But her father doesn’t wait, yanking the door open. “What are you--” he freezes, his eyes dropping to her chest. “What the hell is that?”

She pulls her t-shirt across her chest, attempting to obscure the binding.

“What are you wearing?” His voice is dangerously low, white hot with instant anger. She begins to shake her head vigorously.

“Dad, no-”

“Laurel, take that off, now.” he says, stepping into the bathroom. “Or I swear to god, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” she exhales, her eyes flickering up to meet her father’s.

Luke startles awake right before his father brings his hand down to his face. Luke tries to forget that memory. It comes back in his dreams-- of course it does.

It was the only time his father ever hit him. Surprisingly enough, considering the damage to the house he did after Luke officially came out.

But only once was that anger taken out on Luke.

Luke is cold, as usual, and his stomach is churning. It’s getting better, he admits, but his body is still reacting like Luke is dying. He reaches out across the mattress, searching for a warm body to cling to.

The first one he feels is on the other side of the bed. Luke lets out a groan and awkwardly shuffle-slides across towards it. He pries open his eyes to see Michael, curled on his side facing Luke.

Fleetingly, Luke wonders where Calum and Ashton are. “Mikey,” Luke whines. Moonlight is shining through the window, illuminating Michael’s body. Luke’s fingers brush over the lace sleep shirt he’s wearing and he clings to it desperately. “Michael,”

He stirs, hands automatically holding Luke still by his hips. Where Michael touches, Luke feels flames light up. He wants to pull away, but part of him knows he needs the contact. “Hi,” Michael exhales, his break ticking Luke’s hair. “Are you okay baby?”

Luke nods and caves into Michael’s touch, squirming into his chest and wrapping his arms around his torso. “Cuddle me,” Luke replies, his legs intertwining with Michael’s. His legs are smooth, and his his post-sleep haze it makes Luke smile. “I like it when you’re girly,” Luke mumbles. “You’re all soft and smooth and nice to me.”

Mikey laughs, and Luke can feel the shaking in his chest. Michael winds his fingers through Luke’s hair. “Do you feel sick?”

Luke shrugs. “A little. Not as bad as before.”

Michael nods and kisses the top of Luke’s head. “Go back to sleep,” he mutters, rubbing Luke’s back with the hand not in his hair. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Luke nods. “Where’s Calum and Ashton?”

Michael pauses moving for a moment, and then she shrugs. “I think they’re in the living room. Talking, maybe they fell asleep there.”

Luke nods and nestles his face into Michael’s neck. “Goodnight, Mikey.”

“Goodnight, Lukey.”

--

Calum’s fingers dance over the fabric of Ashton’s shirt, half-asleep and drunk off wine and Ashton’s smell. Ashton is asleep, the steady rise and fall of his chest an anchor to Calum-- reminding him what he’s doing and why he’s here.

Calum is in love with Michael and Luke, of course, but Ashton holds a special place in his heart. Not that he plays favorites, but Ashton was different. Ashton was the first Calum fell in love with. After a month of living with the hazel eyed boy, Calum was obsessed with him. Luke came next, and then Michael. Michael and Calum had clashed at first, each of them over expressing their protection over Luke and fighting for a guardian role. They were too blind to realize that the real guardian was Ashton, and once they gave into that, things were different.

But Ashton was Calum’s first, a blinding light that struck Calum and taught him how to love. God knows where Ashton became so gentle and loving. God knows what gave Ashton the patience to give up smoking for Calum. Calum, who watched his dad die of lung cancer, and nearly passed out when he felt the pungent smell in Ashton’s bedroom for the first time.

Ashton cares, more than what is expected of him. He takes care of the three of them, and knows everything they feel without even having to think about it. None of them have any secrets to Ashton, because he can tell before they even say it. Ashton, in Calum’s mind, it something beyond human.

“Stop staring at me,” Ashton rumbles out, startling Calum.

One of Ashton’s eyes is peaked open, staring at the boy laying on his chest. The living room is lit only by a golden yellow dim of a desk lamp, but Calum can see Ashton’s face clearly in the midnight, his perfect sleepy grin painted across his skin. Calum scoots up ungracefully to forcefully press his lips into Ashton’s. The kiss is meaningful, filled with love and desire, filled with 1AM thoughts and memories.

Despite how tired Ashton clearly is, he kisses back, eyes screwing shut again and his strong, calloused hands touching Calum. He braces Calum’s hips with one hand, and holds the base of Calum’s neck with the other.

Ashton’s lips are warm and soft, a sharp contrast to how they usually are. Mulled over with sleep, Ashton is gentle and slow. Calum’s hands are tracing circles down Ashton’s torso, and he disconnects their lips so he can reattach them to Ashton’s neck. He sucks a bruise and Ashton exhales, fully awake now.

Calum rolls his hips down, kissing farther down Ashton’s collarbone. Ashton’s grip tightens on Calum’s neck. “Cal,” Ashton exhales, his eyes fluttering shut at the friction in his jeans.

Calum’s fingers slip under Ashton’s t-shirt and Calum looks up through his eyelashes. Calum gains a noise from Ashton’s throat, and Calum’s fingers move down to the button of Ashton’s jeans.

“Wait,” Ashton exhales. “What about Luke?”

Calum furrows his brow and moves down Ashton’s chest, his lips pressing a kiss to the exposed skin on Ashton’s hip. “What about Luke?” He undoes the button.

“He doesn’t want to be doing it, maybe we shouldn’t either.”

Calum shakes his head. “Did he say that?” he asks, tugging down the zipper.

Ashton huffs out a breath. “No, but-”

Calum’s hand dips down the front of Ashton’s jeans. “Then don’t worry about it.” Calum leans up and presses another kiss to Ashton’s lips. “Luke will be fine,” he adds, before dropping to his knees in front of Ashton.

--

There’s a moment after you wake up-- like, right after you wake up --when you forget all the bad things that have been happening in your life, and you’re in total and complete bliss of the early morning.

Luke wakes up like that, totally surrounded by Michael’s floral-esque smell and the feeling of soft lace pressed under his cheek. His eyes flutter open and a smile creeps onto his face, but then immediately vanishes when he remembers.

The rise and fall of Mikey’s chest is uneven, and Luke peers up at him to see his eyes open and staring down at Luke. “Hi,” he breathes, smiling at him gently.

“Hi,” Luke replies. He smiles a little, however forced, part of him lights up at Mikey’s smile.

“How did you sleep?”

“Well,” Luke says. “I love you,” his fingers play with the bow on Mikey’s shirt, settled right in the middle of his chest.

“I love you too,” Michael kisses the top of Luke’s head. “I don’t work today, do you want to do something this afternoon?”

Luke shrugs and rolls onto his side and snuggles his face into Mikey’s body. “Can we hang out here?” he asks, voice muffled by fabric.

Mikey giggles and sits up, cold air hitting Luke sharply. Luke grumbles and sits up with him, his fingers still attached to his chest. “It’s so cooold without the other boys, where are they?”

Mikey turns to Luke, a smile lighting her face. “You seem a lot happier today,” he comments, sliding off the bed and letting Luke’s hands drop.

Luke shrugs.

Michael walks to the closet, opening it up to a small selection of pale pink and cream, Mikey being the only one out of the four that even uses the closet. He pulls out a silk kimono and slides it on over his lace undershirt.

“You know, normal teenage girls don’t wear shit like that to bed,” Luke says, his toes brushing the carpet below him.

Michael snickers, but throws him his middle finger. “Fuck you, I want to feel pretty while I sleep.”

Luke shrugs again. “Fair enough.”

Mikey extends his hand to Luke. “Come oon, let’s go get breakfast.”

Luke takes it and lets Mikey pull him up, lacing their fingers together as they walk. The ends of the kimono flow out behind Mikey and Luke almost laughs at the sheer pointlessness of it. But if Michael’s happy then Luke doesn’t say a word.

They emerge and Luke’s even colder, the open space of the living room sending chills down his t-shirt-and-boxers clad body. He moves closer to Michael. Mikey grins. “It’s just the living room, Luke.”

Luke shrugs. He looks out into the living room and slows his pace, making Mikey stop with him. He looks at the couch, where Calum and Ashton are enveloped in each other.

Luke shouldn’t be upset. He’s not jealous, he shouldn’t be.

They’re both naked, laying on each other with a throw blanket over their middles. Luke wonders how they’re still warm, but then realizes they have each other’s body heat.

Luke hates that his stomach is churning. It’s not that they had sex, it’s never been a rule that two of them can’t have sex without the other two.

Luke has never loved sex like he was supposed to-- he had a heightened sex drive on T, but even then having sex made Luke a little uncomfortable. Usually during the event, it was pushed to the back of his mind, but when faced with it, it was different.

Mikey tugs on his hand, sensing the negative emotions streaming from Luke. “Luke,” he says quietly. “What’s wrong?”

Luke shakes his head. “Nothing.”

Michael turns towards the couch too, his hand slipping from Luke’s. He stares at Calum and Ashton for a long time before speaking. “It hurts you, doesn’t it,” she says quietly. “That they can,” he trails off, in search for words, but never completes his sentence.

Luke nods, his throat seizing up. “Of course it does,” he exhales. “I really… I hate it, Michael.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I’ve been saving my money, you know, and--”

“And what?” Luke laughs. “In a few years we’ll be able to put me back on T?”

Michael sighs, his shoulders deflating. “I want things to be better for you. If we have to wait--”

“I don’t want to fucking--” Luke closes his eyes and stops himself. “I know you mean well, Michael, I just-- It’ll never happen. This is the way it’s going to be forever, isn’t it?”

“No, of course not.” Michael says sternly, touching Luke by the shoulders. “First of all, you won’t be in withdrawal forever. It’s already getting better.” Michael studies Luke’s eyes. “I don’t like it when you talk like that,” he states bluntly. “It scares me.”

Luke scoffs and pulls away. “I’m not going to kill myself.” Luke walks away from Michael, towards the kitchen. He can feel Michael behind him, and he sighs.

“I know you aren’t--”

“Do you?” Luke turns back around sharply. Michael stumbles to stop. “Because all of you treat me like I’m going to.”

Michael’s jaw clenches, and his eyes flash. The kimono slips off one shoulder and he pulls it back up with force. “Did you know the suicide rate in transgender teenagers is over half?” he snaps. “And it’s particularly high for gay ones?”

Luke’s stunned silent.

“I’ve thought about it,” Michael says harshly. “When I was fifteen, fuck me if it wasn’t all I thought about. So yeah, of course we aren’t sure you’re going to hurt yourself, Luke. God, you’re sad all the time! Do you really want us to assume you’re okay?!”

“Yes!” Luke shouts, exasperated. “I want you to trust me!”

Michael stares at Luke for a long pause, tense silence pulled tight between them. Finally, his face softens. “I trust you, Luke,” he says gently. “I don’t trust dysphoria. I don’t trust what it does to you.”

Luke nods. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.” he sighs. “But I don’t want to kill myself, Michael. I’m happy with you three. I wouldn’t give up on that.”

Michael opens his arms and scoops Luke in. “I didn’t mean to yell either.”

“Who was yelling?” Calum’s sleepy voice interrupts them, and Luke tugs away from Michael instantly. Calum waddles into the kitchen naked, scratching the back of his neck.

Mikey snorts. “You’re disgusting,” he comments as Calum opens the fridge and pulls out the milk, drinking it straight from the carton. Calum shrugs and stuffs it back in.

He turns towards the two of them. “You look good this morning,” he says, his eyes travelling up and down Michael’s body. “I like it when you wear lace.”

Michael smiles softly. “Thank you. I like it when you wear clothes too.”

Calum snorts and takes Michael by the hips. “No you don’t,” he says, and presses his lips to Michael’s briefly. “Good morning babe,”

“Morning,” Michael says, and tugs away from Calum. “I’m going to make breakfast.”

Calum swoops down a little to kiss Luke good morning. “And to you,” Luke doesn’t smile, but he lets Calum kiss him momentarily. He pulls from Calum’s grasp, still tainted with jealousy. Calum doesn’t seem to notice though, quickly moving on to the coffee machine and pulling down a mug from the cabinet.

Michael starts digging eggs and bacon out of the fridge, and he clears her throat. “So,” he says, an edge to his tone. “You and Ashton never came to bed last night,”

Calum begins pouring himself coffee. “We slept on the couch,” he states simply.

“Oh, I noticed,” Michael says bitterly. Luke knows what she’s doing. He’s standing up for Luke.

Luke feels his stomach churn again. He doesn’t need Michael to stand up for him. If Luke wanted to be protected, he could have done it himself.

“Mikey, don’t,” Luke says quietly, shuffling back against the kitchen wall.

“Don’t what?” Michael challenges.

Calum looks at Luke with his lips parted.

“Don’t do this, I’m not a hurt puppy,” Luke says as gently and calmly as he can. “I can bring it up with them if I feel like I need to.”

“Bring what up?” Calum asks, his eyebrows drawing together. “That Ashton and I slept together?”

Luke just looks at Calum helplessly. He says nothing, but Michael speaks up for him. “You could have just asked him,”

Calum sighs and looks at Michael with annoyed eyes. “Since when do I need permission to have sex?”

“Stop it, just stop,” Luke says weakly. “Can we just drop it? It’s fine.”

“No it isn’t,” Michael says matter-of-factly, lighting the stove and starting the eggs. “It’s not okay.”

Luke says nothing, and neither does Calum.  

They’re all silent as Michael makes the eggs, his body moving in jerky, angry movements. They’re startled by Ashton strolling into the kitchen, yawning. “Good morning,” he sighs. Ashton, unlike Calum, Ashton had the decency to pull his boxers on. Michael barely looks up at him.

“Hi Ashton,” Luke says in a small voice, fiddling with his t-shirt anxiously.

“Hi,” Ashton leans over to Luke, kissing him on the cheek quickly. “What are you making Mikey?”

“Eggs.” Michael snaps.

Ashton walks towards Michael. “You look hot in lace,” he comments, winding his arms around his waist. He leans in to lean his chin on Michael’s shoulder, but he elbows him away.

“Get off me,” he hisses.

Ashton stumbles back, shocked and confused. “What?”

Michael pauses, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily. When he opens them, he flicks the stove off and turns towards the three of them. “Look,” he begins. “Luke, I know you don’t want me to say anything, but I can’t let you hurt. I have to say something.”

Luke attempts to disappear into the wall entirely. Calum and Ashton’s eyes flicker between Michael and Luke with confusion.

“What happened?” Ashton asks cautiously.

“You and Calum,” Michael says bluntly. “You slept together.”

Ashton’s face falls. “Shit,” he mumbles. “I knew this would happen, Luke-”

“No, don’t-” Luke tries, but Michael cuts him off.

“I just don’t understand how you could do that right now,” Michael laughs humorlessly. “Right now? Really Ashton?”

Ashton raises his hands in defense. “Michael, I-”

“You had to know,” Michael says, wringing his hands anxiously. “You had to know this would hurt him. Especially what happened between you when you tried to sleep with him.”

Luke pales, looking at Ashton sharply. “You told them?”

Ashton is at a loss for words, his lips parting slowly.

Luke shakes his head and looks at the ground.

“Luke-”

“Don’t, it’s fine. No secrets right?” Luke says, looking back up at Ashton with anger in his eyes for once. “No secrets, so, I assume you told Calum about what else you did that night?”

Ashton steps towards Luke. “Luke, you promised-”

Luke stepped back, his back hitting the wall. “It’s whatever. You can tell him yourself.”

“Tell me what?” Calum’s voice is small, his eyes staring accusingly at Ashton. “What did you do?”

Ashton shakes his head. “Calum-”

“Jesus, will you two just shut the hell up?” Michael snaps. “It’s not about you. This is about you hurting Luke, not each other.”

“Calm the fuck down, Michael,” Calum snaps. “Just because you’re dressed like a bitch doesn’t mean you get to treat us like one.”

Michael advances towards Calum, but he’s blocked by Ashton, letting out a cry of “Whoa, whoa.” Ashton holds out his hand and stops Michael from moving forward. “That was uncalled for.”

“This whole conversation is uncalled for!” Calum laughs. “We did nothing wrong!”

“Luke wasn’t ready!” Michael shouts.

“Good thing I didn’t fuck Luke then!” Calum retorts.

Luke wishes he could take another step back against the wall.

“What the hell is wrong with you? We’re in this together!” Michael snaps, his hand swinging to the side and knocking over a glass. It rolls, but doesn't fall to the ground. “We’re supposed to do things together!”

Calum scoffs and shakes his head. “I can’t believe you. It was just sex, it didn’t even involve Luke!”

Ashton stills, and his hand falls from Michael’s chest. He looks at Calum with stunned eyes. “It was just sex?”

Calum’s lips part and he steps back. “Ashton, that isn’t- that’s not what I meant.”

Ashton shook his head. “Forget it, I don’t want to argue with you too.” Ashton turns to Luke. “Luke, did it really hurt you?”

Luke shrugs and looks at his feet. “A little,” he admits. “But it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known-- I just. I’m jealous. I didn’t want this okay?”

Michael exhales lowly, but says nothing.

“I’m hurt because of a lot of things,” Luke says quietly. “I just-- I can’t even fuck right, how am I supposed to operate as a person? I relied on T, but without it, I just see everything I needed it for. Apparently, I needed it to… Be comfortable with sex. Comfortable with sex in this body. Seeing that you were really comfortable enough to do it… Yeah. I was jealous. ‘S all.”

Calum’s mouth hangs open, and color drains from his face. “This is my fault,” he breathes.

“Yeah, it is,” Michael spits. Ashton shoots him a glare.

“I’m so sorry, Luke,” Calum says, stepping towards Luke. “I didn’t know.”

Luke shrugs and shakes his head. “‘s fine. How could you have known?”

“I could have known-- I should have known,” Ashton says. “It’s not Calum’s fault, it’s mine.”

Luke shakes his head again and raises his hands. “I don’t want to do this,” he says. “I don’t want to play referee.”

“Luke,” Ashton says, barely above a whisper. “We didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Jesus, I got that,” Luke leans away from the wall, inching away from the three of them. “I know you didn’t, but you still did it.”

Calum blinks twice, unsure of what he’s seeing. This is so uncharacteristic of Luke. “Luke,” Calum says, stepping towards him. “Don’t go, we need to talk about this.”

“I can’t.” Luke protests. “I have to- go.” He sends one final look at Michael, his frame sloped and dejected. “I’m sorry,” Luke says, and he disappears into his bedroom alone.

--

Luke doesn’t mean to start crying. Frankly, he’s tired of crying. Tired of hormones and the sharp, twisting pain in his lower abdomen. Tired of feeling like a shitty person because he inadvertently made two of the people he loved the most feel shitty about having sex.

He’s curled up in Michael’s bed, hoping that no one will find him there, but also hoping that Michael will stumble upon him and comfort him. Luke isn’t mad at Michael. He tried, he really tried to help him.

But Luke’s not really sure he’s mad at Calum and Ashton either.

He’s just mad. Maybe at himself. He’s definitely mad at his body.

Luke’s ripped off his t-shirt, and he’s just laying in his lavender bra and boxers, his chest tired from unwanted sobs leaving his throat.

He thinks about what Michael said before they fought. About Luke killing himself. Luke lied a little. Pieces of Luke--most of Luke--begged him to end it. But he hadn’t lied when he said he would stay for the three of them.

But waiting years to even go back on a hormone that he should have a right to was more than suffocating. The idea of feeling like this for potentially the rest of his life strangles him and obsesses his thoughts. Luke’s not an idiot-- he knows he won’t be back on T for a long time.

So why not end it? His future is bleak, and if he really makes this big of a deal about Calum and Ashton having sex, where is this relationship supposed to go? What does he have left to hold onto? The prospect of being back on testosterone in five or six years? Not enough.

Luke rolls onto his back, sobs still wracking his body. His lungs fight for air as he hiccups through seemingly endless fits of tears. He’s a mess to say the least. He hasn’t even bothered to wipe his nose, and he can feel how raw and used his vocal cords are.

He runs his hand through his hair, fingers parting the pieces clumped together by unwashed hair gel from the night before. He wants to stop the thoughts, but he can’t. He wants to have been honest with Michael, but now that it’s on his mind, he can’t stop it. He can barely breathe, let alone control himself.

He rolls off the bed and onto the floor, heaving in breaths, tears still running down his face. He lifts himself off the carpet with shaking arms and with bleary eyes, he wanders into the hallway. He can hear Michael and Calum still arguing downstairs, and that’s like a slap in the face. They can’t even listen to him when he makes it clear he doesn’t want to fight.

Luke stumbles into the bathroom, too blinded by tears and light headed from dehydration to see correctly.

He leans heavily on the counter with both arms, keeping his head down, not daring to look at himself in the mirror. He lifts one of his hands and opens the medicine cabinet. His fingers are shaking so bad, he’s not sure which bottle is the right one.  

He crammed it in the cabinet months ago, a back up plan in case something like this happened. He knew none of the other boys would find it, none of them took meds, and they rarely used the hall bathroom anyway. Everyone’s things belong in the master bath.

He pushes around the Tylenol, contraception and the unused menstruation painkillers before he finds it. It’s a small bottle, and Luke can only recognize it’s the right one by the bright red label. He pulls it out of the cabinet, his body stilling the sobs, as if it knows what Luke is about to do.

Tears are still running down his face, but they let up, making it easier for Luke to see. He blinks at the bottle. Universal Nutrition: Natural Testosterone Supplement. Luke’s stomach churns, memories of paying seniors in his school to buy it for him, memories of smuggling the red bottle into his room as a teenager, hoping his father wouldn’t notice. Never then would he have thought it would come to this. Luke never thought he’d be using the one thing that made him happy to burn out all the unhappy in his head.

He’s overwhelmed, the only thing he can hear from Calum and Michael’s argument is swear words, pounding into Luke’s ears like gunshots. His hands have stopped shaking enough that he can twist open the cap, and dump the contents of the bottle into the palm of his hand.

Luke finally looks up into the mirror, and the sight makes him want to vomit. It’s enough to do it. It’s enough for him to lift his hand and tip his head back, rushed and not thought through.

The pills sit in Luke’s mouth for a second. He can taste them, a gross plastic and chemical feeling settling onto his tongue. He looks pathetic, his hair rumpled and his cheeks stained. He looks like a paper doll, pieced together incorrectly by a child. The head of a boy, short hair, steely eyes; the body of a woman, soft purple bra and smooth pale skin. There’s no happy ending for Luke, he has to know that. He does know that.

So he does it. He swallows.

He can feel most of the pills stuck in his throat, so he flees the bathroom. He’s running, and he doesn’t know why. Michael and Calum are still in the kitchen, but they ignore Luke as he snatches a glass off the counter and fills it with tap water.

He can’t hear what they’re saying, but he knows they’re still arguing. Luke wonders if he’s just invisible to them now. A ghost already.

He downs the drink and doesn’t even bother turning off the tap. He drops the glass in the sink and runs again.

He almost returns to the bathroom, but then stops at the master bedroom door. It hurts to even look at the door.

You’re betraying them, Luke.

“Shut up,” he snaps out loud, and he yanks open the door. Luke wanders in. He can hear the shower running. Good. Ashton’s not there to ask questions.

Luke crawls into the king sized bed. He feels sobs choking up his throat again. He can feel the meds setting in already, fuzzing up his vision. He crawls under the blanket and pulls it up his chest. He sobs once.

He’s not sure if the crying means he regrets it or not.

Luke isn’t sure what he feels.

He feels tired. He’s sure of that.

He lays his head on the pillow, tears running down the sides of his face and into his hair.

Luke’s eyes are starting to close. He feels a shot of fear. Maybe it was regret that made him cry. Luke suddenly starts struggling, but he’s not moving. He’s fighting it, but it’s too late. He can’t feel his fingers.

But he does feel Ashton’s arms, pulling him into a cuddle. Ashton thinks he’s sleeping. Luke can’t even warn him.

The only thing Luke can do is think his last thoughts.

It’s okay, he thinks, rolling into Ashton’s touch. You were never going to be a man anyway. You were always going to be Laurel, confused and small.

But if anything, Luke knows that he is dying loved.

--

It takes Calum hours to calm Michael down. He’s not crying, but he went into full panic mode when they found Luke.

Ashton was crying, paralyzed with fear. “Not- not breathing-” Was all that Ashton could choke out, Luke’s pale and motionless body lying in his lap.

Three hours later, they’re gathered in three plastic waiting room chairs. Michael’s breathing has evened out, but Calum’s fingers still play with Michael’s anxiously. Ashton is avoiding looking at either of them, his leg bouncing incessantly. He had been pacing for the first hour, but he’s calmed down a little himself.

Michael wants to ask Ashton what he’s thinking; He wants to do something, but the pit in the bottom of his stomach weighs there like a stone.  He can’t move. He can’t really look at anything but his hand, tangled with Calum’s.

It’s another hour until they hear anything. Michael’s almost lulled to sleep, his chin resting on his chest and his hand had gone limp in Calum’s.

“Are you Hemmings’ friends?”

The voice makes Michael’s head snap up. He looks up at the doctor with wide eyes.

“We’re his partners.” Ashton says clearly.

The doctor lets out an “Oh,” he sighs. “What are your names?”

“Cut the shit,” Calum snaps, sounding pained. “Is he dead?”

The doctor settles in a chair across from the three of them. “Luke is strong. He shouldn’t have made it.”

Michael lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his grip on Calum’s hand releasing.

“The overdose should have destroyed his liver, and he nearly had a heart attack,” the doctor says, folding his hands together. “Because Luke was on testosterone for so long, his body handled the hormone without damaging anything. He’s very lucky.”

“So he’ll be okay?” Ashton exhales.

“He’s still unconscious, but he’s stable.”

“Oh my god,” Calum’s head drops into his hands.

Michael clears his throat. “When can we see him?” he asks, scooting to the edge of his seat anxiously.

“Luke won’t be awake for another hour or so,” he says. “But I need to ask one of you some questions about Luke’s behavior. Before this happened.”

They all exchange a glance, Ashton’s eyes finally meeting Calum’s.

“Which of you knows Luke’s the best?”

They’re at a loss for words, none of them know what to say. Finally, Ashton coughs. “I’ll go,” he says.

Michael exhales in relief. “Okay,” he says.

Ashton stands and looks at Calum and Michael. “Don’t go in without me,” he whispers. “Please?”

--

“Ashton,” the doctor settles in a chair behind a desk. “I know this is very hard for you, so I appreciate you taking the time to do this.”

Ashton just shrugs, taking a seat across from the desk. “What do you want to know?”

“We’re all very sure that this was a suicide attempt,” the doctor says, opening a file across his desk top. “But we have to be sure.”

Ashton swallowed and straightens his back. “Okay.” Is all he can let out.

The doctor’s eyes flicker over the papers for what feels like hours before he finally speaks. “So why was Luke taken off the testosterone supplement?”

“Um,” Ashton’s threads his fingers together nervously. “His parents dropped him from their insurance plan, so he wasn’t able to afford it anymore.”

The doctor hums. “And was Luke particularly sad after that happened?”

Ashton draws his eyebrows together. “Of course he was. He was depressed, not to mention having to go through withdrawal, and then have his body revert to something he’s not.”

“Were you, and Mr. Hemmings aware that you can buy over-the-counter hormones?”

Ashton scoffs bitterly. “Obviously.” he snaps. “He didn’t want them.”

The doctor closes his folder and looks up at Ashton. He slides his glasses off his nose and stares him down. “Mr. Irwin, was Luke in an unsafe or harmful environment that prevented him from receiving the medication he needed?”

Ashton blinks twice. “What the hell are you insinuating?”

“It is not rare to find LGBT teenagers in harmful and unhealthy relationships, and if I find any evidence that that’s the case, don’t think I won’t act on it.”

Ashton’s jaw falls agape. “Excuse me?” The doctor returns his gaze to the folder and doesn’t respond to Ashton immediately, so Ashton continues. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, but our relationship with Luke is very healthy. If you think me, or any of those boys would lay a finger on him, then you’re wrong.”

“Mr. Irwin,” the doctor repeats. “The drawbacks of relationships like these are that they are inherently unsafe. If you would not hurt Luke, you may be unaware of how the other two men in this relationship treat him.”

“No, absolutely not,” Ashton demands. “They wouldn’t touch him,” The doctor sighs exasperatedly and opens his mouth, but Ashton raises a hand, stopping him. “You know, if you’re just going to be bigoted about how unhealthy you assume ‘relationships like these’ are, fine. But you don’t know shit about me or any of my boys. Are we done?”

The doctor straightens his back. “I’m going to look into putting Luke back on testosterone supplements.” he says. “And we’re going to have to put him on suicide watch until we’re sure he’s safe.”

“Fine.” Ashton snaps. “Can I go?”

“Yes. Thank you for your time.”

--

When Luke wakes up, it’s his first instinct to cry. He’s still tired of crying, but he wasn’t supposed to wake up.

“Luke?”

Calum’s voice draws him in, a light that Luke can barely see. His vision is blurred around the edges, and now they’re welling with tears.

Luke doesn’t look at Calum or any of them. He just snaps his eyes shut and lets the tears run down his face uncontrollably. Someone’s holding his hand. Someone else is crying too. Luke’s royally fucked up this time. He can’t apologize for this. He can’t apologize for the pain he just put them through.

“Luke,” Ashton’s voice is broken, but guarded by forced maturity and strength. “I fucked up with you,” Ashton says. “I’m so-” his voice catches, trying to stop the tears before they even start. “I’m supposed to be the strong one. I was supposed to carry you," He’s broken, empty desperation in his voice. “I wasn’t strong enough. I’m sorry.”

Luke tries to shake his head, but he’s not sure if they can see it. he’s shaking hard enough as it is. The grip on his hand tightens, and he can tell it’s Calum now.

“Baby stop crying, please,” Calum’s voice is weak. “You’re going to wear yourself out.”

Luke rolls his head to the side to look at Calum. He’s a wreck, his ebony hair sticking out where he’s ran his hands through it too many times, and his eyes bloodshot from crying. Luke stares at him, tears rolling down his face. He blinks up at Ashton, standing behind Calum. “I’m-- I’m sorry.” Luke stutters out. He sobs twice, his body wracking. “I didn’t want-- this.”

Ashton drops down to his knees by the bed. “No, no, Luke,” he pleads. “This isn’t your fault, don’t blame yourself.”

“Not yours either,” Luke whispers, peering at Ashton through sad eyes.

Ashton nods and kisses Luke’s forehead.

“Where is Michael?” Luke asks, craning his neck in search for any sign of him.

“Here.”

At the foot of his bed, a tiny figure is slumped, staring at Luke with fear struck in his eyes. “Luke…” Michael trails off. “You promised.” He finally exhales. “You fucking promised you wouldn’t do this.”

Luke stares up at the ceiling. “I lied,” he breathes. “I was scared. I-- I just--” He sobs again and thrashes his head around. “I wanted it to stop!” he yells, startling them all. “I wanted to stop being a girl. I wanted to do things right! I want to have sex with you the right way! I want--” he hiccups and curls his legs up to his chest. “I can’t even die right!”

They’re all silent in the wake of Luke’s words, save for Ashton letting out a quiet. “Luke.”

“I’m sorry,” Luke blurts out, closing his eyes. “I just need some space.”

Calum stands up from the chair by the bed. He steps away from Luke, still and silent. He offers Luke a weak smile, and moves towards the door.

Michael joins him. pausing at the door frame to look at Luke sadly. Then he, too, disappears back into the hallway.

Ashton stands but doesn’t let go of Luke’s hand. “I need to tell you what the doctor said,” he says quietly. “He’s going to try and get you back on T.”

Luke’s eyes pop open and he stares at Ashton with bright, wild eyes. “What?”

“There’s no guarantee yet,” he adds hastily. “But he’s going to try. And Luke…” he trails off. “They’re going to put you on suicide watch.”

Luke pales. “What does that mean?”

Ashton shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know. I think they’re going to keep you here, maybe in a psych ward, for a few days. I googled it while you were still asleep. Protocol differs for the hospital.”

Luke’s throat seizes up. “I’m not-- I’m not going home with you?”

Ashton bites down on his lower lip. “No, not yet.”

--

“I don’t want you to go,” Luke mumbles.

“Visiting hours are ending,” Calum whispers, his breaths tickling Luke’s hair. Calum had managed to wedge himself into Luke’s hospital mattress, and Michael is sitting indian-style at the foot of the bed. “We have to go.” Calum adds.

“Don’t,” Luke’s voice is strangled. “Don’t let them take me to a psych ward, Cal. I’m not crazy.”

Calum presses his lips to Luke’s temple. He says nothing, his fingers intertwining with Luke’s. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

Luke starts to shake in Calum’s grasp. “I’ll have to sleep alone here.”

Calum is quiet. His lips are still touching Luke’s head, and he just breathes onto Luke’s skin.

Michael finally speaks up. “Luke, it’s only for a few nights.”

“But I need you these nights.” Luke pleads, hiding his face in Calum’s chest. “I can’t do this.”

“You’ll be fine,” Michael consoles. “I believe in you.”

“When are you visiting tomorrow?”

Michael and Calum exchange a glance. “We don’t know,” Calum admits. “We know only one of us can visit at a time.”

Luke blinks up at them both. “What?”

Calum exhales. “We tried to argue, but it’s the rules. You can only see one visitor a day.”

“Why?” Luke doesn’t want to sound strained and weak, but it comes out that way. And that’s how he feels inside, he supposes.

Calum shrugs. “I don’t know. I think they don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“How long will I be here?”

“Until they think it’s safe to send you home,” Michael says. “The doctor said it shouldn’t be more than a week.”

Luke chokes and looks up at Michael with wide eyes. “A week?”

Michael exhales, his entire demeanor exhausted. It occurs to Luke that none of them have slept in probably hours. “Luke, people get stuck in these kinds of places for months. A week is good, considering.”

“It’s not good for me!” Luke struggles out of Calum’s grasp. “I don’t want to be put on suicide watch, I won’t attempt again. You guys know that, right?”  

Calum looks at Michael, who just has his eyes closed. Neither of them say a word.

Luke shrinks into the mattress. “Oh,” he whispers. “Oh.”

“Luke…” Michael trails off. “We just want you to be okay.”

“I’d be okay at home,” he says quietly.

Calum sits up and looks Luke in the eyes. “Listen, Luke,” he says, his soft tone tinged with seriousness. “They can keep you safe here. We can’t guarantee that at home. Michael has to work tomorrow, and Ashton and I can’t be with you all the time. We can’t know you won’t try something else.”

“Especially when you said you wouldn’t do this in the first place,” Michael adds quietly.

Luke feels his chest tighten with guilt. He knows Michael’s right. And he’d be lying to himself if he said that part of him didn’t want to try again. It was a nagging thought in the back of his mind, but it was still there. And last time he checked, that nagging thought could get pretty loud. He exhales. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll stay. Not like I have a choice.”

“Thank you,” Michael says, smiling softly. “I wish I could be here with you.”

“Me too,” Calum nudges Luke. “But it’ll be okay, I promise.”

Luke nods solemnly. “You should go,” he says quietly. “I don’t want you to get in trouble with the nurses.”

Calum nods, and brings his finger up to Luke’s chin. He tilts it up so he can look him in the eye. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Luke nods. “Okay.”

“Be safe.”

“I feel like you’re dropping me off the first day of kindergarten,” Luke teases, though his tone lacks light-heartedness. “I’ll be fine.”

Calum kisses Luke softly, pent up emotions from the night before filling the kiss. Luke is the one that breaks away, feeling a lump form in his throat. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Calum breathes. He kisses Luke on the nose, and then crawls out of the bed.

Michael scoots forward so he too, can draw Luke in for a gentle kiss. Michael looks him in the eye. “You can call us anytime, I’m sure. You can call me at work if you need to.”

Luke nods, unable to speak. “I don’t want you to go,” he says again, tears fighting their way into his eyes yet again.

Michael sighs and his eyes fill with sadness. “I know beautiful,” he says. “You’ll be home before you know it.”

Luke nods.

“Have you said goodbye to Ashton?” Calum asks.

Luke nods again. “Yeah, said goodbye after you guys came in.”

Michael slides off the mattress and links hands with Calum. “I love you, Luke,” Michael says.

“You too,” Luke says. “Go, it’s like fifteen minutes past visiting times.”

They shuffle out, throwing Luke a smile, before disappearing behind the door.

Once they’re gone, Luke doesn’t let himself cry. He’s done crying for a few years. He sits on the hospital bed, his fingers playing with the sheets, wondering when a nurse will come and move him to psych. His stomach is tied in a knot.

But he waits, and eventually, it’s time.

--

Ashton guards the cigarette from the snow with one hand, and his other hand flicks the lighter on. It’s extinguished for the fourth time by the snow, and Ashton growls in frustration. It’s nearly midnight, the sun long passed behind the horizon. Ashton can’t sleep. though he laid in bed long enough to see Michael and Calum fall into unconsciousness. But Ashton couldn’t stop thinking about Luke.

The fifth try is successful, and Ashton’s past frustration switches to a brief, silent cheer of relief.

Ashton breathes in, stuffing the lighter into his back pocket and leaning on the wall outside the flat. He hangs the cigarette between two fingers as he exhales the smoke into the snow fall.

None of the snow has stuck yet, and for that Ashton is grateful. If the roads were too covered to drive, then they wouldn’t be able to make it to the hospital in the morning. Ashton shuts his eyes, anxiety pulsing inside him. His mind is taken over with LukeLukeLukeLuke. He’s too terrified for Luke for his own good, his morality encompassed by thoughts of the blond. He breathes in the smoke again.

“Ashton?”

Ashton immediately draws the cigarette behind his leg away from the voice. He turns towards the doorway. Calum is standing there, a flannel blanket wrapped around his pajama clad body, and his hair sticking up from sleep. His face is flushed and his eyes dark and he looks at Ashton with huge eyes. “What are you doing up? Why are you out here?”

Ashton coughs into his hand, hoping Calum is too tired to see the smoke. “I couldn’t sleep,” Ashton says uneasily. “I, um-- What’s up?”

Calum just shrugs and rubs his eyes. “I just woke up and I realized you weren’t in bed. I was looking for you.”

“I’m here,” Ashton says quietly.

Calum walks out and closes the door behind himself. “It’s snowing.” he observes. “Aren’t you cold?”

Ashton shrugs. “Go back to bed,” he exhales. “I’ll be inside in a minute.”

Calum frowns, taking a step towards Ashton. “Ash? Are you okay?”

Ashton shifts his stance, his fingers tightening his grip on the cigarette outside of Calum’s view. “I’m fine,” he says tightly. “Go to bed, baby.”

Calum wrinkles his brow and steps towards Ashton again. “You smell…” he trails off. “Ashton,” his tone lowers.

“Go to bed.” Ashton enforces. “I’m fine.”

The blanket falls off Calum’s shoulders. “Don’t--” his voice shakes. “Don’t tell me--”

Ashton closes his eyes. He knows Calum knows. He knows Calum can smell the smoke on his clothes, on his breath, in the air. Ashton is panicking. He doesn’t know what to say.

Calum’s jaw falls agape. “You’re-- Are you smoking?”

Ashton’s body weakens, and he slumps forward, mumbling out an apology. “I’m sorry.”

Calum physically recoils, stepping away from Ashton, as if his words stung him. “After everything?” Calum exhales. “This is what you chose to do?”

Ashton draws up both of his hands, revealing the cigarette. “Calum, please--”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t know, I--”

“What? Are you trying to get back at me for fucking you?” he spits. “Because if you are, this is not the way to do it.”

“What? No!” Ashton yells. “I just needed something--”

“You promised!” Calum’s voice, loud and pained, raises. “You fucking promised, Ashton!”

“I made a mistake!” Ashton pleads. “You don’t know what it’s like!”

“To smoke? You think I’ve never smoked?”

“To need something!” Ashton yells. “To be an addict!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Calum shakes his head in disgust, backing away from Ashton. “You fucking asshole.”

“Calum, please,” Ashton begs. “I love you, I’m sorry.”

Calum just pulls the blanket around himself again.

“Let’s just go to bed, we can handle this tomorrow--” Ashton begins, desperate to move on,

Calum laughs bitterly. “No, no,” he says, waving his hands at Ashton. “Like hell you’re sleeping with me tonight.”

Ashton pales. “What?”

“You’re sleeping in your own bed, or on the couch, I don’t give a fuck,” he snaps bitterly. “But you aren’t sharing a bed with me or Mikey smelling like that.”

Ashton drops his arms to his sides in defeat. He knows he deserves that, but he can’t handle it, not with Luke gone. “Calum,” his voice is choked. “I didn’t mean for this,”

“Luke knew, didn’t he? This is what he was talking about during the fight?”

Ashton nods and looks at his feet.

“I can’t believe you used him like that.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Ashton protests, but Calum just raises his hands and backs away.

“Do whatever, Ashton,” he says, shaking his head. “Just… Don’t come to bed. I can’t see you right now.”

--

“Hemmings,” The nurse opens his file and rifles through papers. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” Luke says quietly, shifting on his feet. “I’m really tired,” he admits.

The nurse hums in response. “We’re preparing your room right now,” she says. “I just need to make sure you have nothing that you could harm yourself with on you.” She looks up from the file. “It says that you’re going to be put in high risk, so you’re not going to be allowed to have any personal items.”

“Okay,” Luke says quietly, avoiding her gaze.

“Do you have any keys, a wallet, phone, necklaces, bracelets or pocket knives on you right now?” she asks, pulling a pen from her coat pocket.

Luke shakes his head. She marks something on the folder. “We’re going to issue you a uniform, a pair of shoes without laces, and socks.” she says. “If you pass your first 24 hours without any incidents, then we’ll issue you bedding.”

“I won’t have bedding?” Luke asks in disbelief, his heart dropping lower in his stomach. How the hell is he supposed to sleep?

“Unfortunately, no,” the nurse says. “You’re a high risk patient, you won’t be allowed much of anything until you pass 24 hours. Any other questions?”

Luke sighs and rolls the hem of his shirt between two fingers. “No,” he answers quietly.”

“If you wait here, an orderly will be here with your uniform, and they’ll show you the way to your room for the night. Do you have any questions?”

Luke stands up straight. “Do you know how long I have to stay here?”

“No,” she says immediately, already turning to leave. “Right now, because you’re high risk, they can’t determine anything until you’ve stayed here-”

“-24 hours, I got it,” he mumbles, watching her walk away. He leans against the reception desk on his elbows, dropping his head in his hands.

“Luke?”

He snaps up at the voice and turns to his right. Standing in light blue scrubs and holding a stack of dull khaki clothes, is a short blonde girl. She’s leaning on her left leg predominantly, one of her hands on her hips. “Here’s your uniform,”  she says, looking bored. “You’re going to be with a roommate. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

Luke shakes his head silently. He reads her name tag as she thrusts the uniform out to him. “Abigail,” he says out loud. “I hate that name.” It’s a lame jab, and he didn’t even make an effort, but he has too much pent up irritation and grief in his head to not take it out on someone-- especially if he’s not allowed to take it out on himself here.

She just rolls her eyes, visibly annoyed. “Come with me,” she snaps, walking away. Luke follows her through two big double door, with a sign reading Psych Ward over them. Luke’s stomach churns with nerves.

The hallway he enters smells vaguely like urine and chemicals, and Luke wants to cry even more. It’s mostly empty, but they pass a few patients, dressed in the same lifeless khaki in Luke’s arms.

Luke has to turn his eyes downward after the second patient they pass. Their eyes are lifeless and sunken in, their cheeks hollowed out, and their shoulders slumped forward. Luke wonders if he looks like that, or if he will.

“You’re in here.” Abigail stops abruptly in front of a door. “Go in, change into your uniform, and come back out to give me your personal clothes. Before lights out in half an hour, your room will be searched for anything you shouldn’t have. It’s routine.”

Luke nods.

“Do you have any questions?” she asks, returning a hand to her hip.

Luke shakes his head.

“Then go in,” she snaps.

Luke startles and rushes into the room as quick as he can, anxious to leave the hallway anyway. He shuts the door behind himself and freezes.

He knew he’d have a roommate, but he didn’t expect a tall, very pale, very naked man standing on one of the plain metal beds. Luke exhales a very small, “Oh.”

The man freezes whatever he was doing and looks down at Luke in mild amusement. He doesn’t look too much older than Luke, but his face is mostly obscured by stringy black hair that hangs to his shoulders. “Oh, hello,” he says. He hops down off the bed. “I didn’t know I was getting a roomie.”

Luke swallows. “Oh, yeah,” he lets out finally. “I’m Luke.”

“Matty,” he says. “Sorry, about you know.” Matty gestures at his body ambiguously. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“It’s okay,” Luke says timidly. “I have to change.” He raises the khaki uniform. “If that’s okay.”

Matty nods and strolls over to the bed that Luke assumes is Matty’s, because it’s made with sheets, and his khaki uniform is unceremoniously strewn across. “Sorry about standing on your bed, mate,” Matty apologizes again. “I was trying to stick something to the ceiling.”

Luke looks up, and sure enough, the entire ceiling is covered in little pieces of paper. “What’s on them?” Luke asks, walking into the room cautiously.

Matty pulls his khaki shirt over his head. “Lyrics,” he says, gesturing up. “They don’t let you keep a journal or pencils in here. So I write stuff in the rec room and stick them up the papers in here.”

“How are they stuck up there?” Luke asks curiously, craning his neck.

Matty opens his mouth. “Gum.”

Luke cringes.

He puts his uniform on the ground so he can step out of his shoes. Matty has seemingly forgotten about Luke instantly, turning away from him and not bothering to put his pants on.

Luke hastily pulls off his shirt, replacing it with the uniform top as quickly as he can, hoping Matty won’t notice the binder.

Once he’s changed, he opens the door to hand Abigail his clothes (earning an eye roll and a “Took you long enough,” from the orderly).

Luke wanders into the room for the second time, this time to a fully clothed roommate.

Matty glances up at him from his bed. “So,” he says, as Luke crosses the room to sit uneasily on the plain mattress. “What are you in for?”

“Um,” Luke clears his throat. “Wanted to die,” he mutters out.

Matty hums. “Don’t we all?” He draws his legs up onto the mattress and folds them under himself. “So attempt?”

Luke nods.

“That’s okay,” Matty says. “I was in here for an attempt at first too.”

“At first?”

Matty sighs. “I’ve since been diagnosed with crippling ADHD and schizophrenia,” he says bluntly. “It’s no big deal though, I sleep through the night.”

Luke sits on the bed hesitantly. “Is this high risk shit for real?” he asks. “I couldn’t even get bedding.”

Matty sighs and falls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Yep,” he says. “I’ve graduated to medium risk, I got bedding. You’ll probably get yours tomorrow. You’re only high risk because you just attempted. As long as you don’t do anything crazy and try to hurt yourself.”

Luke nods again, and tugs on the ends of his khaki shirt. “How long have you been here?”

“Six months,” says Matty, startling Luke to sit up straight. “I probably won’t ever get out, either. Or I’ll be moved to a proper asylum.”

Luke feels the color drain from his face.

“Hey, don’t make that face.” There’s a laugh in Matty’s tone. “You just made one attempt, you aren’t crazy like I am.”

Luke nods, and his dry lips part. He says nothing for a while, then, “Do we have a bathroom?”

“Shared,” Matty says. “It’s down the hall.” He pauses for a while. “Are you gay?”

Luke looks at him sharply. “What?”

“I’m just curious. You have a queer vibe.”

Luke ignores the slur stinging him. “I am,” he says. “I have boyfriends though.”

“Plural?” Matty asks, sitting up, suddenly interested.

“I’m not cheating it’s-- we’re all together.”

Matty just nods. “Interesting.” He rubs his eye. “I’m going to sleep, Polygamy Luke. Sleep well without bedding.” Matty rolls over, drawing his quilt over himself.

“It’s a polyamory, actually,” Luke corrects. “Not that it matters.”

Matty rolls on his side and faces Luke, grinning. “Sorry, I’m not well versed in multi-person relationship terms.”

Luke finds himself smiling lightly. “That’s okay.”

Matty taps his nose suddenly. “Orderlies coming. It’s almost lights out.”

Bewildered, Luke turns his body to the door, where an orderly sticks their head in as if on queue. “Are you settled in, Luke?”

Luke has never seen them before, but they know his name. He frowns. “As settled as I’ll ever be.”

“Good,” they say. “Healy? You all good?”

“Peachy!” Matty sings from under his quilt, mocking gleefulness. The orderly rolls his eyes as if this is routine.

“Alright well, I’ll be checking in every half hour. Let me know if you need anything. Lights out.”

The light in their room gets flipped off, and the door is propped open by the orderly. Luke lays down on the bare mattress, and tries to settle down.

Matty falls asleep almost instantly, and Luke finds out that he mumbles in his sleep. Luke would probably think it was funny in another situation. Luke curls into a ball and tries to even his breathing. He’s never felt more anxious in his life, and he hasn’t slept without one of his boyfriends in over a year. He’s lucky if he gets any sleep tonight, but still, he closes his eyes. Even if it’s a long night, it’s one less night he’s not at home.

--

Michael sees the small figure running at her at top speeds down the hallway, all khaki clad and pale.

“Michael!” he calls, ramming his body in Michael, causing Michael to stumble backwards. He giggles and holds onto Luke.

“Hey, beautiful,” he breathes into his hair. “How are you?”

Luke is struck silent, shaking his head violently. Mikey holds him tighter. “That bad?”

Luke pulls away and looks at him with huge eyes. “I just miss you. I miss all of you.”

Michael frowns, rubbing his hands up and down Luke’s arms. They sit down across from each other at the table in the room set aside for visitors. “How is it?”

“I had no bedding,” he says. “No sheets, or pillow, or blanket. It was freezing last night. ” He trails off, staring up at Michael with huge eyes. “Because I’m high risk. I couldn’t have bedding."

Michael presses his lips together in a straight line. “That’s not fair.”

Luke shakes his head, shaking away tears. “It’s okay. My roommate is pretty cool. It’s not all bad.”

“Tell me about him,” Michael says, brightening at the mention of something positive.

Luke blushes and reaches across the table to hold Michael’s hand. “He’s nice. His name is Matty. He’s kinda crazy though. He sticks song lyrics to the walls with gum and he talks in his sleep. And he rarely wears clothes.”

Michael laughs quietly. “He sounds like a character.”

Luke smiles. “Yeah. And he showed me around this morning. He took me to breakfast and showed me the rec room, and went with me to take my meds.”

“Meds?”

Luke nods. “Antidepressants. They said I’ll have to take them once I leave too.”

Michael frowns and plays with Luke’s fingers. “This sucks.”

Luke sighs and nods. “It won’t be long.”

Michael kisses Luke’s fingers. “And one of us will be here, everyday. And we’re always thinking about you.”

Luke nods. “Yeah, hey, how’s it at home?” he asks. “How are Calum and Ashton?”

Michael bites his tongue momentarily. “Well, they’ve been better,” he hesitates, like he has more to say, but he can’t finish.

“What?” Luke presses.

“Calum caught Ashton smoking,” Michael releases like a sigh. “Last night after we left the hospital.”

Luke looks at the table in dismay. “Oh.”

“It’s not your fault,” Michael says quickly. “That’s just how Ashton deals with things.”

“No, I know,” Luke says, shaking his head. “I caught him smoking after I got taken off T. I already knew.”

Michael frowns. “Oh.”

“Was Calum mad?”

Michael laughs without humor. “What do you think? Yeah, he made Ashton sleep on the couch. And Ashton left this morning, I haven’t seen him all day. I suspect Calum asked him to leave for a while, too.”

Luke groans and drops his head onto the table. “This is all such shit.”

“I know,” Michael agrees. “But it’ll be over soon.”

--

Matty stays by Luke’s side for the next few days, and Luke is grateful. Apart from Luke’s visiting hours, and when they go to their required individual therapy, they stick together.

Matty doesn’t seem to have many friends in the clinic anyway, so he seems just as grateful as Luke is for the company. They spend most of their time in the rec room, cross legged on the floor by the bay window that overlooks the pond outside the building, playing chess or checkers. Matty is respectful of Luke’s situation, but is bold with his questions about Luke being trans and his relationship.

“How do you all have sex?” he had asked on Luke’s second day, as he took Luke’s knight.

Luke frowned at the chess board. “It’s like straight people have sex,” Luke said, moving one of his chess pieces carefully. “Except I’m not a woman. But like, mechanically speaking it’s done the same.”

“Except there are four of you, right?” Matty asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Right,” Luke said. “We don’t always have sex together. Sometimes we do it separately, just two of us…” he had trailed off, thinking about Calum and Ashton.

“Do you ever have threesomes?” Matty asks, pushing the conversation past its boundaries.

Luke shakes his head. “No, that’s a house rule. We never want anyone singled out.”

Matty’s questions usually pushed the boundaries, but Luke found himself growing fond of it. Ever since he came out, everyone except his boyfriends seemed to tip-toe. He liked that Matty was bold enough not to care.

Calum came to visit him the second day, and he looked terrible, like he hadn’t been getting any sleep. He didn’t say much, about Luke or about Ashton, but he listened to Luke talk about Matty and about the shitty cafeteria food.

After he leaves, Luke and Matty take a walk in the gardens outside. Matty walks on the planters and talks to Luke enthusiastically.

Luke learns that Matty was in a band before he got admitted to the hospital for an attempt, and he had been the frontman. The band fell apart once he was hospitalized, but he hopes the other guys are still friends, even though he suspects they’re not.

They reach the pond that they can see from the bay window. It’s fenced up so no one can get in the water, and orderlies walk the perimeter every few minutes, but Matty seems to like being outdoors, so Luke doesn’t mind. They sit in the grass and watch ducks peck at the ground a few feet away.

“How did you attempt?” Matty asks unexpectedly, pulling up blades of grass.

Luke frowns, blindsided by the question. “Uh, overdose,” he says, squinting out at the lake. “Some over the counter pills.”

Matty looks upset and starts tying the blades of grass together. “I’m really glad you didn’t succeed, Luke.”

Luke is surprised even more, and he looks over at Matty. “Why?”

Matty shakes his head. “I’ve never had a friend here before, unless you count the doctors. And your boyfriends seem to love you, and you talk about them like they put the sun in the sky. You just seem to have a really bright future,” Matty inhales heavily, like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “I’m really, really glad you aren’t dead, Luke.”

Luke surprises himself with his answer. “Me too,” he says quietly.

They sit in silence for a while, as Matty makes a chain of grass with his nimble fingers. He inhales quietly. “Mine was heroin overdose,” he says unexpectedly. In the few days Luke has been at the clinic, Matty hasn’t said a word about his own reason for being there. “I wasn’t really trying to kill myself, but I didn’t care if I did. I went to some party with my band one night, and I was so numb to everything going on around me. Everyone there was high or drunk or fucking or all three. The last thing I remember was shooting up in the bathroom, and then I woke up here. Apparently, I have a lot of issues I wasn’t dealing with,” he laughs hollowly. “I’m still not dealing with.”

“That’s awful. Matty, I’m sorry,” Luke finds himself more sorrowful than he would have expected at Matty’s story.

Matty looks over at Luke with a soft, crooked expression on his face. “I’m really glad you’re here, Luke,” he repeats. “There’s a lot of shit, in my head, all the time. But you make it bearable.”

Luke’s chest swells. “I’m glad you’re here, too.”

“No homo, though,” Matty knocks Luke’s shoulder with his own. “Your boyfriends are really lucky to have you. I mean it.”

--

Ashton comes the next day, looking equally as terrible. He hugs Luke longer than Calum had, and exhaled heavily, his breath laced with what sounded like tears.

“Where have you been staying, Ashton?” Luke asks gingerly, after Luke had gone through the basics of the clinic life. “Michael told me you haven’t been at home. Calum wouldn’t tell me anything.”

Ashton looks down at the visitor's table. “I stayed at a motel last night,” he says honestly. “I didn’t have to, but Calum really needed space,” Ashton runs both his hands through his hair and makes it poof up. “I really let him down, Luke.”

Luke grimaces and touches Ashton’s arm softly. “I’m sorry.”

“I just don’t know what to do,” Ashton says, distressed. “I can’t seem to stop. It’s like, I know it’s killing me and I know it hurts Calum, but everytime I feel guilty, or shitty about you being here, I smoke a cigarette. It’s never been this bad.”

Luke furrows his brow. “Have you thought about seeing someone? A therapist, or going to a support group or something?”

Ashton scrunches up his face. “A support group? Really?”

“Yeah, really,” Luke says. “I’m going to one here. It’s really nice. And my therapist here has recommended a bunch of LGBT support groups for me when I get out. It could be good for you.”

Ashton sighs. “Can you really see a twelve step program working for me? It’s just smoking.”

Luke squints at him. “You just told me it’s never been this bad before, right? It’s a problem, Ash. It doesn’t matter what it is. Plus, if it means losing Calum over, do you really want to keep smoking?”

Ashton laughs a little and shakes his head.

“What?” Luke asks defensively, sliding back in his chair.

“It’s nothing,” Ashton is smiling so big it’s crinkling his eyes. “Three days in here and you’re already talking like a psychologist.”

Luke turns red in embarrassment. “I am not.”

“Are too,” Ashton teases. His happy face starts to fade. “I don’t want to lose Calum, Luke. I’m scared he won’t want me back after this.”

Luke inhales heavily. “He loves you a lot,” he says. “But he lost his dad to smoking. He’s just worried he’ll lose you too. He’s scared too.”

Ashton nods. “I’ll look into support group, but I promise nothing,” he smiles at Luke. “I’m glad to hear being in a group is helping you.”

“Well, it’s Matty mostly,” Luke shrugs. “He’s really nice, and respectful, and we’re friends. He seems to care about me a lot.”

“I’m glad,” Ashton says sincerely. “I’m glad they’re taking care of you here.”

Luke nods. He looks down. “It’s not too bad,” he admits. “I miss all of you, but I think this is good for me right now. I might ask them to extend my stay.”

Ashton raises both his eyebrows. “Really?”

Luke nods and fiddles with his fingers, not making eye contact with Ashton. “I really didn’t want to be here, but now that I’m here, it makes sense for me to be here. I think I’m really fucked up in the head, Ash. My parents did a number on me. I need to deal with it,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t deal with being as sad as I was. I didn’t deal with it and it built up and I tried to kill myself. I really need to fix myself, before I come home. If I go home like this, I’ll just keep shutting down and not dealing with my problems.”

Ashton looks sad but he smiles. “I’m so, so proud of you Lukey,” he says, squeezing Luke’s hand. “Stay here as long as you need.”

--

Luke tells Matty that he’s staying longer than a week the next day, and Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen Matty really smile up until that moment.

They eat breakfast together in the cafeteria, and Matty laughs at everything Luke says, even though most of it isn’t very funny. He’s bouncy all day, and they play tic-tac-toe in the rec room because his energy levels are so high he can’t concentrate on chess or checkers.

They get told off twice by orderlies to keep it down and stop disturbing other patients, but Matty doesn’t seem to care that much.

They go to group together, and Matty is keen to share, something that he rarely is. He tells the group that he’s thankful for Luke being around, and he beams at Luke. Luke swears that he can see actual sunshine between Matty’s teeth.

Luke’s psychiatrist is pleased to hear Luke wants to stay longer, agreeing that a week wasn’t long enough. He tells Luke that he thinks adding an extra week should be enough, and then he’ll be discharged.

“But you’ll have to keep seeing me,” Doctor Williams says, over his glasses. “And I’ll have to have proof that you’re going to a group of some kind, and that you’re on your meds.”

Luke nods. “Okay.”

“I want to talk to about one more thing, before you go,” he says, closing Luke’s folder and taking off his glasses. “You seem particularly close to your roommate, Matty.”

Luke frowns and then nods. “Yeah.”

Doctor Williams inhales slowly. “Mr. Healy has a very special case,” he says carefully. “He’s been here the longest of all of our patients, but has never made any friends until you arrived.”

Luke nods, all of this things he already knew. “I don’t quite understand,” Luke says.

“There’s not much I can say without violating doctor-patient confidentiality,” Doctor Williams says. “Matty is very temperamental. He’s in good spirits today, but he crashes. And I want you to be prepared for when that happens. If it happens. I just don’t want you to blame yourself. Matty is very troubled.”

Luke isn’t sure what he means, but he smiles and tells the doctor that he’ll look out for it.

--

Sleeping with only Michael is strange, Calum finds out. They cling to each other for warmth, but the bed feels far too big. Calum misses Luke. He finds himself missing Ashton too, but he’s more angry and scared at Ashton than sad.

Michael is neutral on the whole thing, but assures Calum that he’s on his side, though Calum knows that when Michael’s nose is in his phone he’s texting Ashton.

They’re eating pizza, the fourth night without Luke, and it’s eerily quiet, just the two of them. Michael is watching a chick-flick, his eyes wide and sad. “I miss Luke,” he says unexpectedly. “He would have been grossed out at us watching this.”

Calum swallows his mouthful. “Ashton, too.”

Michael glances at Calum. “Yeah,” he agrees. He looks down at the phone in his lap. “They’ll both come home pretty soon though,” Michael says it with so much conviction, Calum almost believes him.

“The only way Ashton is coming home is if he never smells like smoke again,” Calum says quietly. Michael looks down like he knows something, and Calum is too angry to act like he noticed.

--

Luke finds out what Doctor Williams meant by Matty crashing two days later.

Matty doesn’t move when they’re woken up for breakfast, and it takes Luke and two orderlies to coax him out of bed. He doesn’t eat his breakfast, and he follows Luke around the clinic like a ghost.

When it’s time for Matty to have individual therapy, he’s in there for an unusual amount of time. Luke wonders if it’s because he has a lot to talk about, or if he’s not talking at all.

They try to play checkers later, but Matty is unresponsive and sluggish, spacing out every few minutes and his skin going pale.

Luke finally gets him to talk when they’re alone as they can be, out by the pond, where they’re secluded enough from the outside world. Matty starts making grass chains like he always does, and doesn’t say a word to Luke for a good fifteen minutes.

When he does, it’s startling, like it was the last time they were by the pond. “Are you going to leave me here?”

Luke frowns at Matty. “What?”

“Are you going to leave next week?” Matty restates. “I won’t be mad if you are. But. Are you?”

Luke nods. “I’m getting discharged a week from today,” he says. “You know that. I was going to be discharged today, if I hadn’t wanted to stay.”

“No, I know,” Matty says. “I just don’t want to be alone here again.”

Luke heart sinks. “You can make other friends, Matty. People like you. You’re nice and funny.”

“You’re the only friend I ever made,” Matty says sorrowfully. “People think I’m crazy. Even people here, of all places. I’m too goddamn weird.”

Luke reaches out and touches Matty’s shoulder. “You aren’t weird. You’re kind, and people will see that. And besides, you’re going to get out one day. Don’t think that you won’t.”

Matty turns to face Luke. “I’m kind?”

Luke nods. “When I came in here, I wanted to die, so bad,” he stares out at the pond sadly. “But you told me you were glad I wasn’t dead, and the world started to make sense again, and I’m gonna fix myself, and I’m gonna make my relationship good again. You did that.”

Matty’s mouth falls open in surprise. “I wasn’t trying to. I was just being honest.”

“I know,” Luke says. “Exactly. You were a friend to me, the weird trans kid. And you weren’t weird about it. And that means more to me than I can express.”

Matty jolts forward, throwing his arms around Luke’s neck. It takes Luke a moment, but he puts both his hands on Matty’s back. Luke feels his shoulder get wet, and he realizes that Matty is crying.

The orderly who is circling the pond calls out to them and tells them no touching. Matty pulls away reluctantly. Matty looks away and wipes both his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

Luke shakes his head. “It’s okay. I know you don’t think you will, but you’re going to get out of here. And when you do, my door will always be open, and you can come ask me for anything. I don’t want you to end up here again. I want you to get better. I’m glad you’re not dead too, Matty.”

Matty cries more, and he gives Luke the grass crown he had been making. Luke puts it on, but the orderlies make him throw it away once he gets back inside. Matty is smiling again though anyway, and Luke is glad for it.

--

Ashton knocks on the door to his own apartment, cold knuckles rapping against rough wood. It’s not long until a sleepy-looking Calum opens the door. He looks surprised. “Ash,” he says. He takes a step back. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” Ashton points out, but it’s light hearted. “I came to talk to you.”

Calum frowns. “What about?”

Ashton reaches in his back pocket and fishes out what he was looking for. He hands it to Calum. The small white disk sits flat in Calum’s palm.

“What is this?” Calum asks quietly.

“It’s my first sobriety chip,” Ashton says. “It’s only for 24 hours, but I’ve been clean for a week. There’s no coin for that, though.”

Calum’s lips part. “Ashton,” he says, staring at the chip.

“It was Luke’s idea,” Ashton says, rocking on the balls of his feet. “I’m in a twelve-step program now.”

Calum’s eyes are glassy, and he looks at Ashton across the doorway tearfully. “You are?”

Ashton nods. “I know it’s a bit much, for smoking, but I just felt like… Like bad about it. I don’t know. I don’t want to lose you over cigarettes, Calum. I love you.”

Calum springs up, and throws himself onto Ashton. He presses his lips to Ashton’s roughly, gripping the chip in his fist. “I missed you,” he mumbles onto Ashton’s mouth. He pulls away. “You brought your stuff, right? Please tell me you’re coming back inside.”

Ashton nods and laughs against Calum’s skin. “Of course I’m coming back inside. There’s literally,” he kisses Calum’s cheek. “No scenario in which I would not come back for you.”

--

The last week in the hospital goes by faster than his first. Luke and Matty spend less time playing chess and more time out by the pond, talking over the kind of life Matty will lead once he gets out. He wants to start a band again, though he’s not sure his old bandmates still live anywhere nearby.

He wants to move in near Luke, and Luke is happy to hear that, and happy to put in a good word with his landlord.

Michael visits on his second to last day, and tells him that Ashton is home, and in a twelve-step program like Luke suggested. He also tells Luke that they’ve all unpacked Christmas decorations but are waiting anxiously for Luke to get home so they can put them up together.

Luke almost cries, he’s so ready to be with all three of them again. Michael laughs, but he looks like he’s going to cry too.

Matty helps Luke on his last day, though he doesn’t have many things to pack up. He has his old clothes and a book he got from his therapist, but there’s nothing else he can take with him. Matty gives him a few pages with lyrics on them, and Luke promises he’ll gum them to his ceiling at home.

Doctor Williams signs the papers approving Luke’s discharge and tell Luke that he’s “very proud” of the progress he’d made.

Luke has to agree on record that he’ll be seeing Doctor Williams once a week, and that he’ll be attending some sort of support group at least once a month. And he’s prescribed antidepressants. Before he leaves, Doctor Williams breaks the news.

“Luke, we’ve begun the work to get you re-approved for testosterone,” he says. “We’ve also worked it out so that you can get a health insurance plan that covers it, if you’re willing.”

“Of course,” Luke says, startled. “Of course I’m willing.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” Doctor Williams says. “No go home and be with your boys. We can deal with paperwork next week.”

--

The three boys are waiting for him in the parking lot. Luke runs to them, crashing into all three bodies at once. Ashton is peppering his face with kisses, Michael is rubbing Luke’s hip bone, and Calum is gripping the back of Luke’s neck like he’s never going to let it go. Luke starts to squirm, and pulls away with wetness on his cheeks. He laughs. “I love you. I love all of you.”

They all brighten. “We love you too, Luke,” Calum chimes.

“So much,” Ashton agrees.

“Let’s go home,” Michael says, jingling the keys. “I want to go home.”

--

They put up Christmas decorations together, which is mostly Michael and Ashton doing the heavy lifting of putting up the Christmas tree, and Calum and Luke cuddling on the couch with mugs of apple cider.

Michael and Ashton argue about the tree standing up straight for a solid twenty minutes until Calum just sighs loudly. “It’s straight, okay, would you both just shut up?”

Luke giggles and snuggles under Calum’s chin. Michael tries to look mad at Calum but it doesn’t stay, and he just rolls his eyes. “Fine, where are the ornaments?”

“Wait,” Luke chirps from the couch. “I want to talk to you all, before it gets crazy.”

“Bit late for that,” Ashton says, sitting up from where he was stuck under the tree, and is now covered in pine needles.

Calum giggles at him and Ashton grimaces.

Michael sits next to Luke, and Ashton leans against the couch to stare up at the three of them.

Luke inhales slowly, thoughtfully. “The doctor told me this morning that I’m getting to go back on T.”

All three of them are silent for a moment, but cheer in surprise. “How?” Ashton asks.

“He found me affordable health insurance,” he says. “And he said that it seems unhealthy for me, mentally, to not be on it.”

“That’s great news, Luke,” Calum says sincerely, rubbing Luke’s back.

Luke smiles at Calum, beaming. “I’m really happy.”

Calum’s face softens. “I’m happy that you’re happy.”

Luke looks down and his hands and breathes in deep. “I want to have sex with you all again.”

Michael immediately looks concerned and touches Luke’s knee. “You don’t have to do that Luke.”

“Yeah, we’re all okay with waiting for you,” Ashton says quickly.

Luke shakes his head. “No, I want to,” he pushes. “I need to.”

“Are you sure?” Calum asks cautiously.

Luke nods more. “I’m sure. I thought about it a lot in the hospital,” he hesitates, thinking, and then continues on. “There are worse things that I could be going through. I have you three, and I just--I want to be close to you.”

“If you’re sure,” Ashton says. “Do you want to now?”

Luke nods, and smiles, a little embarrassed. “Yeah.”

They walk upstairs to the bedroom, hands and arms linked together and fingers brushing skin. Together, just like they should be.

Notes:

you can follow me on twitter and tumblr. thank you for reading :D