5 Seconds of Summer BoyXBoy one-shots

Flight // Muke

~ I have no excuses. I have no good reason as to why I've been away for so long or as to why this isn't as good as it should have been considering how long it's been but here I am. I guess...I guess life just happened you know? Between school and work and trying to sort things out I just couldn't bring myself to write. But yeah, I think things are starting to get better, or at least so I hope. as always, lots of love and again, I'm sorry it's been so long xx //M ~  

[WARNINGS: self harm, major character's death. Read with caution] 

 No more running

They say that every man has a breaking point, and most people probably expected Michael to reach his a long time ago. That is, of course, if they had known. But they didn't, no one knew because no one was there to listen. He never had anyone to tell about the harsh words getting thrown at him in school, always hurting a lot more than the bruises he'd get from getting shoved into lockers. He used to try, he'd try to tell his parents about the people making his days a living hell, but all he'd get in return would be more harsh words and shoves, these hurting even more coming from the people who are supposed to be there for him, supposed to listen and care. But they never did. 

And so he'd run. He'd run from them, the harsh words breaking through the walls he'd build, hoping that maybe they'd fall behind. Not that they ever did.

No more hiding

He became an expert in hiding. He'd hide from people in school, always knowing where to run off to and where it would be safe at that time. He became an expert on hiding his feelings from his parents, no longer showing the hurt on his face when they'd yell at him or, something that would hurt even more, ignore him. As time went on and he found other things to do to keep his feelings in check, he'd learn to hide those too.

He found a place, a place where he'd feel safe, a place where he could hide. It wasn't a hidden place in itself, and maybe that's what made it feel so safe. It was just a roof top like any other and that, the fact that people found it so ordinary and boring, was what made it feel safe, secluded. He found a place where he could hurt in peace.

No more hurting

He did hurt, it hurt seeing his parents look away when he came home with new bruises, it hurt seeing his former friends turning their backs at him when he got shoved into lockers and laughed at in school. All that hurt, felt like having knives stabbing his heart every minute of every day, but he found a way to handle it. He found another sharp, cold metal to help him cope, this one smaller and less figurative. It'd part his skin and let the red blood well up, covering the pale skin and dripping onto the gravel covering the concrete roof of his apartment building.

No more crying

He'd cry as he watched the dark drops land on the gravel, turning it into a dark shade of brown. He'd cry at night, as he laid in bed listening to his parents yelling at each other, usually followed by the slamming of a door and someone's angry steps disappearing down the hall outside the apartment. He'd cry because his old friends no longer found him good enough to be around. He'd cry because no matter how hard he'd try, it was as if he was invisible to his parents. He'd cry because most of the time his tears were his only company.

No more trouble

When he was younger, he never caused any trouble. He had a few friends that he'd play with and he'd always have his homework done in time. However, when things started changing for the worse, suddenly he wasn't able to be the good, invisible kid anymore. He felt it as if everybody had their eyes on him, everybody except for his parents. If he didn't get in trouble with the other kids at school it was with the teachers because he didn't have time to do his homework between the running from his bullies and his attempts to get his parents' attention. The only times he knew he wouldn't get in trouble was when he hid on the roof, away from everyone who wanted him to hurt and away from everyone who didn't even notice him.

No more sighing

When he still had his friends, or before he realised they didn't want anything to do with him anyway, it wasn't uncommon that the only response he got whenever he said something was a sigh. It wasn't just his friends though, his mother would sigh those times she actually noticed him coming home with a new collection of bruises, his teachers when he failed to hand in the assigned homework in time. He'd do it too, sure, but when that sound escaped his lips it'd be a sigh of relief as he once again watched the silver part the pale pink, allowing the dark red to well out.

No more falling

Some people fall in love, others fall out of love. To Michael it had always been about falling apart, falling to pieces. Every time someone threw a harsh word after him, every time someone he loved, someone who was supposed to love him, failed to notice him, a piece of him would break off and fall into the everlasting darkness, something he sometimes thought of as the space between the ground and himself as he stood on the edge, high above the ground. He'd close his eyes and picture himself falling from the rooftop, falling and falling in darkness and never hitting the ground. It was a comforting thought.

No more striving

How many times had he not tried to turn his life around, only to fall flat before he'd even left the starting line behind. Someone would always come around, knocking him down and silencing him before he'd even gotten the chance to open his mouth. He had tried finding new friends, only to find out that the rest of the world had gotten to them first, telling them about what a pathetic excuse of a human being he is. He tried, he tried so hard, but he never made it.

No more heartache

It wasn't the kicking or the screaming that eventually pushed him to his breaking point. It wasn't the bruises littering his pale body or the harsh words. It was the pain that came afterwards, when he was alone with nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company. His own dark, terrifying and still so incredibly tempting thoughts.

No more fighting

At first he'd fight them, try to keep them away as they crawled towards him, extending long, black tentacles towards him, searching for something to grab a hold off. He'd try to make his mind blank, try to think of something as simple as a song he knew by heart, but eventually they got a hold and when they did he just stopped fighting. He stopped trying to keep them out. Eventually he invited them in, welcomed them.

No more fears

And then he wasn't scared anymore, because he had given up. He wasn't scared because he knew. As he stood on the roof, his toes already in the air, he knew that there was something else out there for him, something better. Maybe it'd be the blond boy who had visited him in his sleep. The boy had never spoken a word but Michael knew, he knew the boy had left the cruel, harsh world behind just like he was going to, knew he was waiting for him on the other side.

Only flying

And that was what made it so easy. He didn't look back, didn't hope even for a second that someone was going to grab his hand and pull him back onto the roof. He didn't want his parents or his old friends to come around anymore, didn't care that they ignored him. He just closed his eyes and he was there again, the blond boy with the beautiful, blue eyes. He smiled at him and Michael smiled back before leaning forward just enough for the darkness to get him, to pull him over the edge to the endless, everlasting place where he knew the boy, Luke he somehow knew he was called, waited.