Once Bitten, Twice Shy [Mashton]

Epilogue

It's midnight and Michael can't sleep. He's laying in bed, cringing and biting his bottom lip, swallowing thickly to avoid crying. His phone lights up with another message from someone, probably Luke, but Michael doesn't want to look. He doesn't want to see Calum's apologies of Luke making excuses, he just wants to-

He doesn't even know. It might be melodramatic to say he wants to die while his heart is shattering for the millionth time. Fucking Ashton.

There's a soft knock on the door before its creaking open, anyway. The floorboards creak when the person walks over to Michael's bed. Michael hopes its a fucking murderer, honestly. The strong scent of weed and cologne tells him otherwise, and his fears are confirmed when he opens his eyes. Luke's crouched next to the bed, holding a few pills in his outstretched hand and clutching a glass of water in the other.

"Fuck you," Michael spits out, squeezing his eyes shut again and pulling the blankets over his face.

Luke sighs heavily and sets the glass on the bedside table before the shitty floorboards sound like he's standing up. There's a slight pause, and then the blankets are ripped off of Michael and thrown to the floor, next to Luke's feet. Luke leans forward and clamps a hand to Michael's shoulder, instantly forcing him to sit up. Michael wobbles, he hasn't been out of bed in days, and jerks his shoulder out of Luke's grip. Luke thrusts the pills forward again, so Michael relents and pops them in his mouth, swallowing them down without the water.

Luke cringes slightly at that and sighs, running a hand down his face like he has any right to be stressed out. "Look, Mike, I'm sorry Cal and I tracked Ashton down. We thought you needed it."

Michael wants to scream. He wants to thrash around the bed until he wears himself out. He wants to jump out of the window, while he's at it.

Instead, he jerks forward and punches Luke in the stomach as hard as he can, making the younger boy groan and slump over, gripping his torso in pain. While he's distracted, Michael shoves at his shoulders and forced him to fall to the ground with a huff of breath. Luke sits on his ass and frowns, arms wrapped around his waist like he's the victim.

"I did fucking need it!" He yells as loud as he can without his voice cracking. It's about as satisfying as whispering. "I needed to talk to him, and you two went and fucked him! So fuck you!"

Luke winces at his loud tone, glancing down at his knees. At least he has the decency to be ashamed. "I'm sorry, man, you know how Cal-"

"Stop blaming everything on Calum!" Michael demands, clenching his fists. He's perched on the edge of the bed, glaring down at Luke on the floor. "You did it too, Luke! You're not innocent, and neither is Calum! Grow the fuck up and take some of the blame for once in your shitty life!"

Luke's bottom lip juts out in a pout. He knows he's been caught red handed. He knows he's at fault for this, too. "Can I at least explain? I want you to know the whole story, Mikey."

Michael huffs and rocks back so he's sitting instead of kneeling. "Fine, but I still hate you."

"Me too," Luke mutters. He clears his throat and sighs before looking back up with his stupid blue eyes again. "I was the one that found Ashton and asked him to meet us. I wanted him to come talk to you, so you two could talk. And shit."

Michael growls quietly, like a fucking animal. Of course Luke would start of with his pure, angelic intentions.

"He said- fuck, Mike, he told us you didn't mean anything," Luke whispers, looking down again and bringing his giant hands up to cover his face. He's silent for a few seconds, while Michael's heart tears through his chest, before he continues. "He said he felt obligated because you had a warm place for Lilly to stay and you were nice and- and, fuck, I'm so sorry."