bulletproof - calm ot4

2.3- this is the curse of having too much time to think about it

This is the memory, this is the curse of having too much time to think about it. It's killing me. This is the last time, this is my forgiveness. This is endless.

-

Michael tugs absentmindedly at the gauze wrapped around his hand and wrist, barely even feeling the bandage secure on his chest under his t-shirt and his leather jacket. He's on good terms with the people that work at his favorite tattoo parlor and they weren't slammed like usual, so he was in and out with three new tattoos in a little over an hour.

He can't fight the proud smile creeping onto his face as he enters the apartment, closing the door quietly in the hopes that Luke is still asleep. He sees that he is correct as he approaches the bedroom. Calum and Ashton have both changed into comfier clothes and are lying in bed, Calum stroking Luke's hair and Ashton spooning Calum. Luke is still curled up in the blankets, a tight frown scrunching his features.

Michael moves into the room quietly. Only Calum's eyes are open, but as soon as Michael's soft footsteps are heard both Calum and Ashton wake up. Calum shoots Michael a confused look--whereas Ashton's displays more concern--but Michael only smiles softly as he kicks off his shoes, gently climbing into bed next to Luke.

Using his thumb, Michael smooths out the wrinkles in between Luke's eyebrows, and as if the blonde boy consciously realizes Michael is there, he snuggles into the tough boy's chest.

"He's so precious," Calum mumbles, and Michael looks up to find the pretty boy smiling as he watches the two.

"So are you," Ashton says, nudging Calum's shoulder with his nose playfully.

Bringing his hand up to stroke Luke's cheek, Michael watches happily as Ashton pins Calum down to the mattress, holding his wrists down as he presses kisses all over his face and neck. The dark haired boy giggles uncontrollably, causing a proud grin to form on Ashton's face as he rubs his nose against Calum's.

Michael is about to join them when he feels the boy in his arms stir.

"Mikey?"

Michael turns his attention to Luke, who's eyelids are fluttering open, bags present under his eyes. A little color has returned to his face, but he still looks like he's had a long day. A long life.

"Hi, baby," Michael says gently, but then winces internally. He remembers the conversation he had with Luke, the one where he promised he wouldn't treat Luke like he was fragile. He knows he shouldn't--Luke has endured so much--but Michael is so afraid of hurting Luke, even if it's on accident.

Most people are strong on the outside and fragile on the inside--hell, that's how Michael is--but with Luke, it's the complete opposite. Luke comes off as very breakable, very dainty. People throw him around because they think they can break them but they can't. Luke's heart and soul are made of diamonds.

"D-Did Calum t-tell you--?"

Michael sees Luke's lip beginning to quiver, so he quickly hushes the boy.

"Shh, yeah, he told us," the green eyed boy admits, running his fingers soothingly down his boyfriend's spine. "We don't have to talk about it."

To Michael's surprise, Luke flips over onto his back to find that Ashton and Calum have been watching them. The blonde's cheeks flush pink for a second, but he quickly composes himself. "W-Want to talk about it."

"Okay, baby," Michael says softly. "Let's talk about it."

Michael watches as Ashton rolls off of Calum, sitting up so he can glance down at Luke. Calum makes eye contact with Michael, conveying a worried look. Both boys know that it will be healthy for Luke to talk about it, but they just don't want to see their boyfriend cry.

-

Luke's eyes are squeezed shut, his heart leaping into his throat as he admits, "W-Want to talk about it." He feels his voice crack, and he struggles to compose himself. If he never talks about it, it will never get better.

"Okay, baby," Michael's soft voice says. Luke loves when Michael is gentle and compassionate. When things get really bad, Luke can't help but remember the time he watched Michael punch a dent into a stranger's car. "Let's talk about it."

Luke's eyes flutter open, and he sets his gaze on Michael's ceiling. Out of the corner of his eyes he can see the concern crossing his boyfriends' faces, but he doesn't look away from the white wall.

"They were never really h-happy," Luke states. "N-Not that I can remember, at least. But when I was little they were still able to take c-care of me." The corner of the blonde's mouth flickers up in a small smile as he thinks about the simpler times, before his dad started drinking too heavily and before his mom started smoking in the house.

"G-Got bad in second grade," Luke admits. "Started fighting. B-Blamed me. D-Dad would spend all night at b-bars and come home and sh-shove me around." The memory of his father bashing his head against the wall as the man stumbled through the hall way makes Luke wince. "M-Mom started hurting me, too. A-After they fought or if I was b-bothering her she p-pressed her c-cigarettes to my skin..." Luke's lip trembles and his voice breaks as he remembers the excruciating burn of the Marlboro, the way that bits of the ashes would stick to his skin, the sting that would last for days.

"D-Didn't start telling me to h-hurt myself until m-middle school. Didn't start d-doing it until f-freshmen year." Luke's voice is a hoarse whisper now, and his eyes are glossed over. "Took Mom's razors...Didn't eat because they d-didn't feed me, didn't wanna b-bother anyone but even when they d-did start...I-I couldn't."

Luke chokes on a sob, and immediately warm, strong hands are wiping away the tears he didn't realize fell. Vivid images of microwavable dinners being thrusted in front of him paint the ceiling as he stares, unblinking. He can hear his mother's voice ringing in his ears, her words--Eat, goddammit! I cooked for you, you ungrateful fuc k up!--making him flinch as if he were fifteen again.

The blue eyed boy is now full on sobbing, gasps for air racking through his chest as tears pour down his face. He can hear his boyfriends' sweet words and pet names, he can feel the franticness behind their soft and comforting touches. They're trying their best to calm him down, but goddammit, Luke got royally fu cked in the parent lottery, didn't he?

"D-Didn't love me," Luke realizes, the words coming out in a series of whimpers and gasps. They didn't love him. Luke only cries harder. He wants his momma and his daddy. He wants a family, and to be loved.

He feels himself being pulled against someone's chest, and he immediately fists their shirt. It's Calum--he can tell by the silky fabric. He feels chapped lips against his neck--Michael--and warm hands rubbing circles onto his hips--Ashton. A chorus of angel, love, and baby boy fill Luke ears, and his heart.

This is his family.

~

A/N: hi friends!!!! this update is super late im so sorry i shouldve written this a week ago oops

hows everyones lives been though??? what's one good thing thats happened to you this week?

ive had a really rough week but ya know what im doing decent and thats enough for me right now pLUS ME AND  MY BEST FRIEND JUST GOT TICKETS TO SEE RYAN ROSS'S EXBOYFRIEND IN CONCERT THIS SUMMER which would be panic! at the disco aka brendon urie but if you guys know me you know that i stan ryan so hard i mean do you see my profile picture

okay idk what im saying i love you so much friends my pms are always open and i honestly honestly really wanna be friends with all of you so much

so like if you wanna you could follow me on my personal social medias?

instagram and twitter: _cassiebaker_

so much love!!!!!!