fight club. lh ; mc.

seis.

Luke's once again pinned to the ground by Michael, and his face is so swollen that he can't even feel Michael's fists punching repeatedly into his battered cheeks. He's in so much pain that the tears are literally pouring from his eyes, mixing in with the rapid stream of blood coming from his nose, but he's refusing to admit defeat.

The blonde manages to get a good punch to Michael's throat, which has the younger of the pair doubling over and yelling out in pain, saving Luke from further assault to his face.

Luke's sore and broken but he still manages to lift himself up and pin Michael down, sending a harsh uppercut straight to his bruised face, Michael's jawbone crunching under the weight of Luke's fist.

Punch after punch is delivered before Ashton's intervening once again, once Michael stops putting up a fight and his fists fall limply to his sides. Luke has been so harsh with him that he's managed to knock Michael out cold, and he knows that if Ashton hadn't thrown himself in once again, Luke would've killed him.

-----

Calum lets Luke know that Michael is okay, and Luke tells himself that the relief he feels wash over his body is because he knows he's not been fired for killing Michael, not because he was worried about the younger boy.

Michael has a badly fractured pelvis, four broken ribs, he's lost hearing in his left ear and he's temporarily blind in his left eye until his socket heals up. All of this, without mentioning that his face is so swollen that it's impossible to recognise him.

This, however, doesn't mean that Luke came out unscathed. Luke has three broken fingers, torn muscles in his shoulder, and his jaw is dislocated. His entire face is black and blue with bruises and he's missing a front tooth.

They both gave as much as they took, and that much was obvious.

-----

"You two are getting fucking ridiculous," Ashton's voice is a rough, domineering growl as his eyes dart between the two rather sheepish, broken looking boys in front of him, "I swear to fucking god, if you don't buck up your acts, you're both out on your asses. I'm not having someone dying on my premises, you understand? Get the fuck out of my office!"

-----

This time, it's Luke showing up at Michael's door.

"Wha' are y'doing here?" Michael's words are slurred because he can barely open his mouth to talk properly. Everything in his entire body aches, and he doesn't really think dying would be bad, at the particular moment.

Luke can see the pain in Michael's eyes, can hear it in the way he speaks and he feels fucking awful.

"I've got painkillers and whisky," Luke holds them up in both hands, showing Michael, "I also have weed, if you're into that kind of thing."

Michael notices fast that Luke isn't the type to apologise for shit and he's not going to be getting a sorry any time soon, so he steps aside to let the blonde in, "Y'r my saviour." He mutters sarcastically as Luke bristles by him.

Luke takes a minute to look around Michael's apartment and damn, he's got a nice place. Luke wonders where the boy's money comes from, probably rich parents who think he's in Sydney to attend uni, not knowing what their precious, special boy is really up to.

Michael collapses onto the sofa as softly as he can muster, but he still winces as his body hits the soft material. Luke takes the seat next to him and hands the bottle and the capsules to the younger boy, which he takes gratefully.

Luke watches the way Michael's Adam's apple bobs up and down as he gulps down the sour liquid, careful to not let his cut lips touch the rim of the bottle, for fear of the sting he'd feel in his open wounds. Luke can sympathise.

"I'm a fucking asshole," Luke eventually says once Michael hands him the bottle back, "I don't have an off switch, apparently. If Ashton hadn't stepped in I would probably have killed you."

Michael laughs bitterly, "A'v got no doubts y'would've." he slurs, letting his head lull back against the arm of the sofa, "Y'r a good fighter, Hemmo."

It's Luke's turn to laugh now, "Hemmo." He echoes, feeling a wave of something not far from nostalgia wash over him, "I've not been called that since I was fifteen."

"I know," Michael says, smirking a little, "I went t'the same school as you. Y'were a few years older than me, but I knew you 'cause you posted videos on youtube."

"I thought I knew you," Luke says, "you, uh, you were that guy who Ashton fucked the first night we met, at Julie Fischer's party, right?"

Michael nods his head, "Mm, took y'long enough to notice." He tries to smirk but his entire face hurts with the force of it, "We didn't fuck, though. He j'st told everyone we did 'cause I asked him to."

Luke's brows furrow, "Why?"

The redhead shrugs, "Wanted my friends t'think I was some hot shot who could pull an older guy. Ashton was good to me for too long. I don't know how he and Ashley can put up with me and my sorry ass."

"Ashley is a saint, nobody deserves her," Luke says, "she puts up with too much of everyone's shit, just cause she's a good person. Ashton puts up with our shit because he gets paid to do it."

Luke watches Michael's drowsy eyes try to focus as he hums in acknowledgement of what Luke is saying, and Luke knows the guy is going to collapse and fall asleep at any moment, and he's kind of scared to leave the kid on his own, so he makes himself comfy and turns his attention back to the television, that's currently playing reruns of Bob's Burgers.

He's not leaving the boy on his own, Luke needs to make sure that he stays safe.

Not because he cares about him, obviously, but because he needs to keep his damn job.

That's not the first time he'd lied to himself that night.