Wire is back! Now with some cute! And some not-cute!
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from Canada

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Greece
seen from Singapore

seen from United States

seen from Japan
seen from China

seen from Kenya

seen from Japan

seen from Japan

seen from Canada

seen from Canada

seen from Russia

seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
Wire is back! Now with some cute! And some not-cute!
fic and blurb masterpost
Blurbs for specific AUs will be linked in the masterposts for those AUs (the (tumblr) links). More will be added to this post as I write more AUs. Feel free to send asks about any of these, a lot of these had a bunch of stuff I didn’t manage to fit into the fics and I’d love to talk about them!
Fics:
Red-Tinted Waves (tumblr) is #au: waves
See Me As I Am (tumblr) is #au: monster blood
Bright Warm Sun (tumblr) is #au: solarpunk
(more under the cut)
To Be Unbridled And Unburned (tumblr) is #au: unbridled
You’ve Cut The Wrong Damn Wire (tumblr) is #au: wire
Souls for Wishes (tumblr) is #au: wish
Reanimate (tumblr) is #au: reanimate
Grinding Our Gums Raw (tumblr) is #au: raw
The Sun is Burning Down (tumblr) is #au: la
You Light Up the Dark in Me (tumblr) is #au: fallout
Unravel, Unmake Yourself (tumblr) is #au: unravel
We’re Like Light Through Stained Glass is #au: stained glass
Zsashos Vsos (tumblr) is #au: zsashos v
Tomorrow Might be Good for Something (tumblr) is #au: tomorrow
I Feel Stupid, But It’s Something That Comes And Goes (tumblr) is #au: idiots to lovers
Don’t Fall Too Far From Who You Are is #au: stray
The Taste of Tar and Concrete (tumblr) is #au: tar and concrete
Blurbs:
Mashton
“Really? Do I look stupid?”
General
“Do it. I dare you.”
Before anyone comes in my inbox about what a terrible person I am for writing rpf, read this post.
We love to see it <3
You’ve Cut the Wrong Damn Wire - Chapter Thirteen
Tags and Warnings: Implied/ Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Nightmares
Word Count: 1837
Leave Kudos?
Calum rolled onto his back and cracked an eye open at the dark ceiling, wondering when he became such a light sleeper as he listened to Luke’s nonsensical mumbles. For a minute, they stopped and Calum wondered if the dream was over and it was safe to go back to sleep, but then Luke started talking again, clearer now.
“Needa finish m’homework,” he slurred into his pillow.
He was quiet again for a moment, but Calum felt him tense.
“No, I’ll get in trouble,” he protested, weakly shoving at the bedsheets, “No, stop.”
“Luke,” Calum said, cold dread washing over him as he sat up and shook Luke’s shoulder.
“Please don’t, I have to finish it.” He startled Calum with a loud, agonised noise, his chest heaving as he gripped his pillow. “It hurts, I’m not ready, it’ll bleed.”
“Luke.”
Luke’s eyes cracked open, darting around wildly as tears spilled over. “It’s due tomorrow,” he croaked, clawing at his pillow.
“Hey, it’s me, man.” Calum rubbed Luke’s arm, his own heartbeat loud in his ears. “It was just a dream, you’re safe now. I’m here.”
“I got a papercut,” Luke fretted.
“You had a nightmare,” Calum soothed, “You’re okay now.”
Luke frowned up at him.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
Shaking his head, Luke reached for Calum to lie down again so that he could bury himself in his arms. Calum squeezed him tightly, wishing he’d asked Michael what he was supposed to do when Luke had nightmares.
“I’m sorry,” Luke said softly.
Calum could feel tears soaking through his shirt. “‘S okay,” he assured him, feeling useless. What could he say to comfort him? “Do you want me to call Michael?”
Luke shook his head.
“Water?”
“Can you just stay with me?” Luke whispered, “Please?”
“Yeah, of course.” It was barely dawn, Calum didn’t intend to go anywhere anyway.
“I wonder what Michael’s doing,” Luke mumbled.
“Sleeping, I hope,” Calum joked.
“We normally talk about kills together. Plan everything out, even if I’m not gonna be there.”
Calum traced his nails over Luke’s back. “Does that help?”
“Yeah. It makes me feel like he’s gonna be okay. I don’t want him to get hurt or caught.”
“You wanna go over to Ash’s later? See how they’re doing?”
“Yeah.” Luke turned over, but kept Calum’s arm around his waist. “That’d be good.”
“Luke?”
“Yeah?”
“Is Michael’s nan really sick?” Calum had been wondering if she was or if it was a lie to cover up what they were really doing, but hadn’t known how to ask. Now seemed like a good time for odd, distracting questions.
“Yeah,” Luke replied, “That’s why we came back. We’ll probably leave again once she passes.”
Calum frowned. “Is that what you want?”
“I keep seeing people I used to know,” Luke said softly, “It’s … really hard.”
Calum gave him a squeeze. “Keep in touch, though, yeah? I’ll miss you.”
“Yeah.”
As unsure as he was of the whole killing thing, Calum didn’t want Michael and Luke to go. They were some of the only people he still related to since getting kicked out, but he didn’t want Luke to stay and be miserable like he was in school either. He deserved better than that.
Calum didn’t think either of them had gotten back to sleep by the time dawn lit up the room. He wondered how long they were going to pretend they did, how much sunlight needed to fill the room before they pretended to wake up feeling well-rested.
Easing himself out of Calum’s arms, Luke was the first to give up on the charade and make his way to the bathroom to shower. Calum went to the kitchen, sending Ashton a text to let him know they might come over later.
Luke seemed better after his shower, eager to see Michael, the man he usually turned to for comfort after nightmares. Calum had to ask him how to help Luke on those occasions. They didn’t have a solid idea of how long Ashton and Michael would be living together and he was afraid it might happen again.
Walking into Ashton’s apartment, Calum was surprised to find that it looked no different from the way it had when he’d lived there. Had it actually changed when he moved in? At first he’d been afraid of taking up space getting in Ashton’s way, now Calum was wondering if the apartment had ever felt like anything other than Ashton’s, even as he got comfortable enough to call it his home too.
“Hey,” Ashton greeted.
“What’s up?” Calum returned.
“Mikey!” Luke exclaimed, hurrying into the lounge room.
“You been okay?” Ashton asked.
Calum nodded. “You?”
“I’m good. Michael’s been … better than I expected. I thought he’d be more impulsive and less careful.”
“Cool.”
Ashton sighed and gestured for Calum to come into the lounge room, looking like he regretted the awkwardness.
As Calum took a seat on the couch, he wondered if every conversation was somehow going to lead back to the killing thing. He missed having normal talks with his boyfriend.
A bespectacled Michael was showing Luke some pages of stuff he and Ashton, judging by the mismatched sets of handwriting Calum could see, had written. Luke seemed completely absorbed in what Michael was saying, something about routines and Ashton’s research.
“I didn’t know you knew how to do that,” Calum told Ashton as he came in, “Stalk people on the internet, I mean.”
Ashton shrugged. “It’s pretty easy. I, um … I would never do it to regular people,” he assured him, “It’s mainly because I always try to pick targets that don’t live anywhere near me so that if someone went looking they wouldn’t find patterns. There’s also just … a lot you can find out about people through the internet.”
“Fuck yeah, there is,” Michael agreed with a grin, “We’re almost ready to go with Giles.”
“Already?” Luke questioned.
“Yep. We reckon we can get him this weekend or the next.”
With a sigh, Calum got up and went to the kitchen. Maybe he’d never be ready for that part of his friends’ lives. Maybe Ashton was right and it wasn’t going to sit right or be understandable.
As he rummaged through the fridge for leftovers to snack on, Michael came in and poured himself a bowl cereal that was far too sugary to belong to Ashton.
“What’s up?” he greeted as he poured the milk.
“What do you do when Luke has nightmares?” What better time to ask?
Michael frowned. “Did he have one?”
“Last night. I didn’t know what to do when he woke up and … it sucked.”
Michael nodded understandingly as he chewed on a spoonful of cereal. “I usually talk to him about them? I don’t expect you to do that, though, they’re really … It’s not fun.”
“He didn’t wanna talk about it this morning. I don’t think he trusts me enough for that.”
“Yeah, fair enough. I’ll ask him about it.”
“How’s Ashton?” Calum asked lowly.
“In general or since you broke up?”
Calum shrugged.
“We’re getting along,” Michael offered, “I think we just get each other like that, you know? I think he misses having you around, though.”
“I miss him too,” Calum sighed, “I just … I don’t think he trusts me.” He gestured vaguely. “There’s just so much he didn’t tell me and I get that he couldn’t, but … I don’t know if I can understand him like I thought I did. Like you do.”
“It’s probably better that you don’t. Needing to kill people to feel okay isn’t as great as it sounds.”
Calum huffed a laugh. “I guess not.”
Michael texted Luke to let him know when they’d be going after Giles while he and Calum were out buying food. Calum had been about to ask Luke what kind of cereal he liked when he turned to see him gently ruffling the head of a bunny teddy on a shelf. He snatched his hand back when he realised Calum was watching, looking embarrassed.
“Soft,” he mumbled with a shrug before taking his phone out to see Michael’s text.
Knowing when it would happen felt like a countdown. Calum wondered if some part of Giles could feel that he was running out of time, even if he had no idea why. Another part of him thought he deserved that fear.
“I can never sleep when Michael goes out alone,” Luke confessed when the night came.
“He’s not alone this time,” Calum reasoned, though he knew what Luke meant. He didn’t think he’d be any help, but he wished he was there all the same.
Luke constantly checked his phone as they stayed up watching movies. Calum hadn’t wanted to know much about their plan, but Luke knew every detail, probably in part because of all the times he’d gone with Michael. He didn’t relax until Michael finally texted to tell him they were home safe and Calum marveled at the fact that, at some point, someone had died and they hadn’t felt it. They hadn’t noticed at all.
You’ve Cut the Wrong Damn Wire - Chapter Twelve
Word Count: 1575
Leave Kudos?
In the morning, Calum was relieved to find that, although they hadn’t slept a wink, Michael and Ashton were a lot more peaceable than they’d been the night before. Upon realising Calum was awake, Ashton stood and came to him, worry darkening his eyes as he lightly traced the bandaids and bruises on Calum’s face.
“Do you know who they were?”
Calum shrugged. “Friends of my dad’s.”
“What are their names? Do they work with him?”
Calum took one of Ashton’s wrists, suspecting where this was going. “They’re not your kind of...targets.”
“They’re not that different,” Ashton countered, “They get off on making people afraid. I don’t care if they haven’t actually raped someone, they’re probably this close to it anyway.”
“Brendan Hill,” came Luke’s soft voice as he followed Calum out of the bedroom, “James Fraser, Brent Giles. They used to...in high school...”
Ashton nodded to Luke, almost as if thanking him.
“I was thinking of going after them,” Michael said, getting up from the couch, “If you want help.”
Ashton looked surprised at the offer. “Do you know their routines?”
Calum limped to the kitchen as they talked, feeling a little sick at how casually they were discussing killing people, even if he quietly thought those people deserved it. Luke followed him in and offered cereal, which Calum gratefully accepted. He’d forgotten that he missed dinner last night.
“They seem better,” Luke commented as they ate.
“Yeah,” Calum agreed, “Maybe they finally sorted their shit out.”
“I hope so.”
Calum eyed his cereal. “So they’re actually gonna kill them?”
Luke shrugged. “I dunno about Ashton, but I think Michael’s convinced that they’re worth it.”
“How do you guys...do it?”
“Usually we try to make it look like an accident or something. The cops’ll be satisfied with whatever answer means the least work for them, so it’s pretty easy.”
Calum frowned at him. “They don’t even try to investigate?”
Luke stared at the table. “It probably would’ve taken them five minutes to figure out I killed Ethan. They didn’t even bother because he was on someone else’s turf and they assumed they got in a fight over territory. Smithy was pretty keen to take the credit. Fraser’s a cop, but everyone knows he does bad shit. Nobody would be surprised if someone killed him for not paying debts too.”
A shiver ran up Calum’s spine. Hearing Luke talk like that was weird. It felt oddly removed, as if he was talking about the plot of a movie he hadn't liked much.
Ashton and Michael came into the kitchen, the tension between them finally gone.
“Britney says she’ll bring your bike around to you and Ashton’s place,” Michael told Calum, “She said you’ll need a new helmet, though.”
Calum nodded. “Alright.”
“You ready to go home?” Ashton asked.
“Yeah. I’ll drive?”
Calum didn’t know what to say to Ashton on the way home. Once again, he found himself feeling like he didn’t know him at all, like he’d been blind to who Ashton was. Surely there were signs, little things he should have picked up on and put together. Calum cursed himself. Of course there were signs, he'd just been wrong about what they were pointing to.
“So are you and Michael gonna kill those guys?” Nothing felt real anymore. Who the fuck asked their boyfriend something like that?
“Yeah,” Ashton said, “They’re dangerous. They’re not gonna stop until someone stops them.”
“That’s why you do it? To stop people like that?”
Ashton glanced at him. “I like how it feels, too,” he confessed, “Makes me feel like I’m in control of my life.”
Calum wondered if he was about to make the biggest and last mistake of his life.
When they got home, it felt like Ashton was already gearing up for what he was about to say.
“I don’t know if I can...do this,” Calum tried, analysing Ashton’s face for any hint of bloodthirsty rage or fear that he was losing control.
Ashton simply nodded at the ground.
“I just...this keeps happening, you know? I keep thinking I know you and you trust me, but then one of us says something or I pry too much and I find out you don’t actually tell me anything.”
Ashton looked up at him in confusion. “You’re saying you’re breaking up with me because I don’t talk to you about my feelings? Calum, I kill people, I get it if you don’t wanna keep sleeping with a psychopath.”
Calum took a deep breath. “I think I get it. You got hurt worse than I can even imagine, and it...maybe what you do makes sense, but I dunno how to make it sit right if you can’t let me in. I need to be able to understand it.”
“It’s not supposed to sit right,” Ashton said quietly, “It’s fucked up, Calum, you’re not supposed to try and understand it. You should be running from me, I’m a monster.”
Calum felt his eyes heat up. “I don’t think you are.”
Ashton went to the couch and slumped down, raking his fingers through his hair. “What are you gonna do? I don’t want you stuck without a place to stay. Especially not after last night.”
Calum sat next to him, thinking. “I don’t know.” Twelve hours ago there hadn’t been a thought in his mind about where he’d go if he moved out.
“Me and Michael have to talk,” Ashton told him, “Maybe he could stay here and you could stay with Luke. Just to get some space from us for a few days.”
Calum nodded.
“You don’t have to move out,” Ashton clarified, “You can stay as long as you want, I’m just saying...I get it if you don’t feel safe around me.”
Calum wished he could honestly deny that he’d thought Ashton might get angry and hurt him for this conversation. He wanted to say that no part of him was afraid of what he might do, but there was still so much uncertainty.
What would Ashton do? He’d threatened Michael with a knife last night, a knife Calum hadn’t even known he owned. Did he always use a knife? Would he prefer a hammer or a length of plastic wrap and duct tape or something else for an ex-boyfriend?
“I have to go to work,” Calum finally said, wishing he knew how to fix everything with words.
Maybe he should’ve texted to say he couldn’t make it today, most people probably would have, but Calum hoped that the normalcy would ground him, that in the routine everything would somehow fall into place and he’d suddenly have all the answers.
It didn’t work. His boss eyed his scrapes and bruises and said nothing, acted like nothing was wrong and it made Calum painfully aware of how alone he was. Devin didn’t want to ask, but he had to suspect what happened because normally if you see an acquaintance looking like shit you ask if they’re okay. Maybe he thought addressing it would mean he’d have to do something.
A few assholes beating the shit out of him hurt, but everyone else acting like it didn’t even happen was sickening. His closest friends might all be serial killers, but at least they gave a shit.
Michael picked him up after work, commenting that, even when Calum had a new helmet, Luke would want him to keep doing it until the men that attacked him were dead.
“He worries, you know?”
Calum nodded.
“So are we switching places for a bit?”
“Hm?”
“Me and Ashton plot those assholes’ demises while you and Luke cheer us on from a safe distance,” Michael clarified.
“Oh. Yeah, I guess so.”
They went back to Ashton’s so that Calum could pick up clothes and stuff. He wished he’d come up with something heartfelt and healing to say to him at work, but nothing felt adequate.
“Be careful, yeah?” he said as he got in Michael’s car.
Ashton nodded. “You too.”
You Don’t Deserve to Breathe, But Here I am Still Hearing You Speak
Summary: Michael takes Luke to a party and it doesn’t even come close to going as planned.
Tags and Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Implied/Referenced Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Forced Prostitution
Word Count: 2630
Leave Kudos?
Even from inside Michael’s car, the bass echoing from the party down the street pulsed in his ears, almost loud enough for him to recognise the song, but not quite.
“You ready to go?” he asked Luke.
Luke shook his head, fidgeting with his sleeve with shaking fingers. “I shouldn’t.”
This conversation had been all over the place since it began. Luke wanted a last hit of ice to ease himself into sobriety, Michael said it would probably be easier on him if he didn’t have one, Luke agreed, then threw up, then begged Michael to take him to a dealer, then felt guilty about wasting Michael’s money, then had an anxiety attack about offering sex for drugs and getting hurt or Michael trying to buy and getting hurt and now they were here in a more public setting with plenty of witnesses, apparently still unsure about whether they were going to go through with it or not.
“It’s okay, man,” Michael assured him, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Luke frowned deeply at his hands, then stared out the window, at a few late-comers walking to the party. His eyes widened. “Shit, is that Ethan?”
Michael’s stomach dropped and he looked up the road, following Luke’s gaze. Sure enough, Ethan was walking towards them, short blond curls and old, tattered clothes still recognisable in the moonlight. Michael made to start the car, but Luke stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“I wanna talk to him.”
“We should just go,” Michael argued. That had been the plan. Sneak Luke out of his house, maybe get him some meth, then get the fuck out of this shithole for good.
Luke opened his door and got out, terror clear in his eyes. Michael did the same. There was no way in hell he’d leave him to face Ethan on his own.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Ethan demanded as he approached, “You’re supposed to be at Brendan’s tonight. He keeps asking were you are.”
“I’m leaving,” Luke told him, defiant even as he trembled.
Ethan glared at Michael. “Who the fuck are you?”
“None of your fucking business,” Michael bit back.
Ethan stalked forward to grab Luke’s shirt. “We’re going home.”
Michael shoved him away. “Fuck you.”
There was a tense pause as Ethan’s face twisted with rage and he glared at Michael and Luke.
“I’ll fucking find you,” he finally hissed, jabbing a finger into Luke’s chest, “You think my friends hurt you? You think kids at school hurt you? You have no fucking idea what I’ll do to you if you try to leave.” He stepped back, giving Michael a deadly look. “If you aren’t home by morning, I’ll make you beg me to let you die.” He turned away and started walking back to the party.
Tears streamed from Luke’s eyes as he looked at the ground, the hopeless fear in his eyes breaking Michael’s heart.
Before he could move to comfort him, Luke crouched down to grab something off the ground and ran at Ethan. There was a loud crack as he slammed the thing in his hand against the side of Ethan’s head. A rock, Michael guessed.
Frozen, he watched Ethan stumble and fall to his knees, Luke pushing him onto his back and getting on top of him to bring the rock down on him over and over. Each hit was bloodier than the last and Ethan struggled at first, blindly shoving at Luke and trying to yell, but his weak shouts died as his teeth broke and his mouth filled with blood. Ethan could never suffer enough for what he put Luke through, but every hit felt like retribution.
Michael’s lips twisted into a smile. Finally, Ethan was the one who was powerless and afraid.
Ethan’s arms fell to ground, fingers twitching as Luke kept hitting him. A sob escaped Luke’s lips and Michael was broken out of his haze, glancing around to see if anyone was watching as he crouched at Luke’s side.
“Come on, we gotta go,” Luke nodded, letting Michael pull him off of Ethan and take him to the car.
Michael looked back at Ethan as Luke got in. He wouldn’t be able to reverse out with him lying there.
Glancing around again, Michael grabbed Ethan’s ankles and dragged him towards the ditch. As he crouched down to push him in, he heard a whimper.
“You’re lucky I don’t have more time,” he whispered, not completely certain that Ethan’s ears weren’t too clogged with blood to hear him but enjoying the catharsis of getting his feelings out anyway, “If it were up to me, you’d be the one begging to die.” He stood up and shoved Ethan with his boot, watching him roll to the bed of the ditch with a choked-off sound. Michael hoped he'd drown on his blood.
Luke was shaking uncontrollably when Michael got into the driver’s seat, looking over his shoulder and scratching at his wrists. “What if someone saw?”
Michael turned the key and pulled out. “I don’t think anyone did,” he said, hoping to God he was right.
“But what if someone did?”
“Then we’ll ran away,” Michael told him, “Just like we were going to anyway. We’ll get fake names and go to fucking … Alice Springs or something. They’ll never find us in the middle of the desert.”
Luke sniffled, but seemed somewhat calmed by Michael’s words. It wasn’t a plan, Michael knew that, but for Luke he’d pretend it was, pretend he had it all together and that behind the high of what just happened he wasn’t starting to freak out about what would happen to them.
“We’re gonna be fine,” Michael assured Luke as much as himself.
“Ethan has money,” Luke said, “In his room. We should get it.”
Michael glanced at him and hoped that his earlier promise that Luke would never see that house again was the only one he’d be breaking tonight.
“Mind if I change inside?” Michael asked when they pulled up, “You should too. Get rid of the evidence.”
Luke nodded and waited as Michael got a set of fresh clothes out of the boot for each of them. “Bring a spare bag,” he suggested.
Michael had never been inside Luke’s house before. Aside from a few beer bottles scattered around the sleeping form on the couch, it was shockingly clean. He knew that Ethan made Luke do chores in exchange for food, but he was still surprised by how much it looked like a normal, well-kept house.
“He keeps some money on a shelf in his room,” Luke whispered as they crept through the house, careful to not make enough noise to wake up Phil, “To try and trick me into stealing some. I’ll grab it after I shower. Do you wanna shower too?”
Michael shook his head. He was really only changing his clothes as a precaution, he hadn’t been standing close enough to get too bloody.
“You can change in my room, if you want.”
He went to the door Luke indicated to and flicked open the latch. It had been haphazardly secured to the door frame with nails instead of screws, most likely by Ethan himself. The padlock, tarnished and dirty from years of use, still hung from the part nailed to the door, open and waiting for someone to lock Luke in his room, though now nobody would ever again.
Hearing the shower turn on, Michael stepped inside. Luke’s room was tidy, probably in part because Luke didn’t have a lot of possessions aside from his clothes. The walls were bare of posters and no childhood paraphernalia cluttered the shelves. Michael wondered if Ethan made him keep it spotless for his "guests" or if Luke just cleaned to pass the time, the countless hours over years of imprisonment in here. Well, spotless aside from the old bloodstains on the bed sheets. Michael tried not to think too hard about them when he put the bag he'd brought on the bed.
When Michael had changed, he went to the window and touched the nails that held the tattered wooden blinds to the frame, wondering how many years it had been since they were hammered in, whether an escape attempt had led to their presence. Michael’s gut twisted at the thought of what the punishment for that would have been.
At the sound of a cough, he spun around to see Phil at the doorway, blinking at him blearily.
“You one of Luke’s?” he asked gruffly.
Michael relaxed. “Yeah,” he lied.
“Ethan around?”
“No, I uh…I payed him earlier and he said to just go ahead when I got here.”
Phil nodded, glancing back towards the bathroom. “You wanna beer while you wait?”
“I’m good.”
“I’ll leave you guys to it, then.” He gave the bag and clothes Michael had left on the bed a long look but didn’t comment on them before leaving.
Bastard. Luke said Phil had never laid a hand on him, but he’d never done anything to stop Ethan either. Although Luke might not feel inclined to blame him, reasoning that he was as afraid of his piece-of-shit son as he was, as far as Michael was concerned, Phil was just as guilty as every other sick fuck who’d had anything to do with this.
When Luke came back, clean of any trace of Ethan’s blood, he dumped the armfuls of stuff he’d brought with him on the bed. Cash and drugs, it looked like. “Found his stash,” he explained.
“Phil came in,” Michael told him, “I said I was a customer.”
Luke nodded as he held up a baggy. “I just checked and he’s asleep on the couch again. We should be good.”
Michael sorted through the money as Luke examined the drugs, counting out hundreds of dollars within a minute and trying not wonder how much Ethan had made from dealing versus selling his own half-brother.
“I dunno how to sell all that,” Michael said, eyeing the acid Luke was looking at, “We probably don’t need to anyway, there’s plenty of cash.”
Luke hesitated, a guilty look creeping into his demeanour.
“Luke…”
“We could just keep a bit,” he pleaded.
“No way. You wanted to get clean.”
Luke opened his mouth to protest, but was distracted by something outside. “Someone’s coming,” he whispered.
Michael went to the window and peered through a tiny gap in the blinds. “Cops.”
Was it a good sign that there were no lights or sirens, or did they just want to sneak up, give them no opportunity to run?
When he looked back, Luke was staring down at the hoard in front of him. As heavy footsteps trudged up the the front door, he jumped off the bed and wrenched the bottom drawer out from his wardrobe, reaching in to pull up the carpet there.
“Here,” he hissed at Michael, looking terrified when a loud knock echoed from the front door.
Michael scooped up the assorted substances and helped Luke stuff them into the hiding place, cold washing over him as he heard Phil answer the door.
“Cash?” he asked Luke.
“It won’t fit,” Luke told him, replacing the piece of carpet and lifting the drawer back in.
Michael pulled the blanket up and started stuffing the cash there. It was the most obvious hiding place in the world, but at least nothing would immediately look amiss if someone walked in.
As they neatened the bed, footsteps approached and there was a soft knock on Luke’s door.
“Uh…you guys are gonna have to wrap it up, there’s someone at the door for Luke,” Phil told them, “And you can…leave through the back door if you like. Maybe wait a couple of minutes.”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Luke called back.
The footsteps retreated.
“What do I do?” Luke whimpered.
Michael racked his brain. Even if they ran out the back door, they couldn’t get his car with the cops standing out front.
“Maybe they’re here about something else,” he reasoned, “Just act calm. Don’t tell them anything. Let Phil do the talking.” He’d covered up for Ethan plenty of times before.
“What if they know?” Tears were spilling from Luke’s eyes.
Michael dried them with his sleeves. “Pretend I did it.”
“No”
“Luke.” Michael held his face. “You can’t go to prison.”
“Neither can you.”
“I can take care of myself,” he promised, “They won’t even catch me anyway. I’ll leave as soon as they’re gone.”
“No, I need you.”
Michael pulled him into a hug. “It’s gonna be fine.”
“Luke?” Phil called.
“Call me when you get home, then, yeah?” Michael instructed, “I’ll get ready to leave and we can go as soon as you’re out. Together.”
Luke took a shaky breath and nodded. “Don’t leave me here.”
“I won’t.”
Michael watched from the window as the cops led Phil and Luke to their car, taking it as a good sign that they weren’t in handcuffs. Once they were gone, he collected up all the cash again and stuffed most of it into the bag, leaving a little under the sheets in case he got caught and Luke needed it.
Next he grabbed his clothes and the pile Luke had left in the bathroom, stuffing them into a bin bag from the kitchen. He’d burn them in the old fire pit at Nan’s, though he had to wonder what the point was. Even without witnesses, they’ve probably left more than enough evidence to condemn themselves at the scene.
As Michael stood in his backyard and watched the green flames flicker, the sky lighting with the approach of dawn, he got a text from Luke asking him to go to their usual meet-up spot. Michael told him to make sure his bed was made, hoping he’d pick up on the suggestion. It didn’t really matter if he did, there were already had thousands in the pack they’d filled, but a bit extra couldn’t hurt.
“You okay?” Michael asked when he picked Luke up.
He nodded, handing him the stack of cash from the bed. “Didn’t want Phil to see you in case he thought it was weird. He chugged a beer and passed out on the couch pretty much as soon as we got home, but…” He wiped at his nose. “You know, he asked me if you hurt me? ‘Cause he saw that I was crying when I came to the door.”
“What did you say?”
Luke shrugged. "Asked him why he cared."
It was probably best to let Phil believe whatever he wanted, especially if it prompted him to be sympathetic enough to have Luke’s back for once in his life.
“Did the cops notice?”
“Fraser’s a customer. He’s used to it.”
“Oh.”
“Can we go to the beach?”
“Sure.”
They drove in silence.
“So are we on the run?” Michael asked when they reached the car park, only half joking.
Luke shook his head. “They just wanted me and Phil to identify his body. Phil asked who did it and they said it was probably a territory dispute or something.”
“Seriously?” Michael laughed as he pulled into one of the many free spaces. Nobody was out here this early. “Thank fuck.” His smile fell when he realised Luke still looked worried. “You okay?”
“I killed him,” he whispered.
“Hey, he deserved it,” Michael gently reassured him.
“I liked it.”
“Killing him?”
Luke nodded.
Michael looked at his hands. “I kinda liked it too. It was right, obviously, but it was…really good, too, you know? Like, really good.”
Luke looked at him. “I think we’re fucked up.”
Michael grinned. “Yeah, maybe. We're alright, though.”
"Yeah." Luke smiled tentatively. "We're alright."
You’ve Cut the Wrong Damn Wire - Chapter Eleven
Tags and Warnings: Homophobia, Homophobic Violence, Implied/Reference Sexual Abuse
Word Count: 2763
Leave Kudos?
The next time Ashton had to go, it felt like routine, like a comfortable and familiar part of their relationship. Calum didn’t stay with Luke this time because Michael’s nan was getting sicker and they needed space, but he didn’t mind spending a few nights alone.
Of course, his absence at work meant that Calum was doing more and staying back later, but at least he was getting paid more for it. Winter was close, so it was always dark by the time he was done cleaning, but that didn’t worry him until the night Ashton got home.
He was in a good mood, elated at the prospect of going home to his boyfriend. As he closed up, he noticed three men down the alley. It didn’t bother him at first, not until he was making his way to the carpark and he realised they were following him.
Or maybe they weren’t. Maybe they were parked nearby and didn’t give a shit about Calum. He tried to relax, only really feeling it when he reached his motorbike and put on his helmet. His tension quickly returned when someone spoke.
“You Hood’s kid?”
Calum turned to find the men standing just a few metres away, their body language setting off alarm bells in his head. He recognised them. Friends of his dad’s. He tried to look unfazed, but no amount of staring down was going to make him look less outnumbered.
“Yeah.” He hoped to god it was the right answer.
“The fag?”
Shit.
“No-”
“Yeah you are.” The man stepped closer. “I’ve seen you with Ethan’s brother and those other fags.”
Hopefully the rising panic wasn’t showing on his face. His brain was a whirlwind as he searched for ways to turn the conversation away from the direction it was going but came up with nothing.
“I don’t want any trouble,” he tried.
“Should’ve thought of that before you decided to be a cocksucker.”
Calum would have liked to say that he bravely fought them off and got away bruised but victorious, but it was three against one and he went down quickly once someone had yanked off his helmet and tossed it away. As he shielded his face from their boots, he felt a cold sense of inevitability creep over him. Of course this was always going to happen. Part of him had known it from the moment his dad kicked him out. People fucking hated him for what he was.
Eventually, the kicks stopped coming and Calum vaguely registered voices. He curled up tighter when he felt hands pulling at his arms, but looked up when he realised he recognised the voice saying his name.
In the low light, Luke looked terrified. “Can you walk?”
Calum grunted and spat blood onto the bitumen, wincing when he tried to put pressure on his wrist to push himself off the ground. Luke helped him into a sitting position, radiating worry and fear.
“You okay?” Michael asked as he approached, folding and pocketing a large knife.
“‘M alive,” Calum answered through the blood in his mouth. He spat it out and his tongue hurt. He must have bitten it.
Michael and Luke pulled him to his feet and he frowned at his motorbike. Someone had pushed it over. He tried to resist as they started walking away, but everything hurt too much to really fight.
“My motorbike,” he protested.
“We’ll call someone to get it,” Michael promised.
Luke sat with him in the backseat of Michael’s car, taking out his phone to text someone as Michael got in the front seat and started the engine.
“Britney’s gonna pick up your bike,” Luke eventually told Calum.
Calum grunted an acknowledgement, too exhausted to say much else. He watched the lights go by as they drove, trying to think about anything other than what happened. His weak plan to put it out of his mind and just forget it all failed spectacularly when they reached a hospital and he had to tell them what happened, though he carefully kept the reason out.
He realised his wallet was gone when they asked about a Medicare card and that ended up being what toppled his careful numbness. Rage boiled under his skin as nurses looked him over, cleaning wounds and shining lights in his eyes. Who the fuck did those guys think they were?
“You wanna call Ashton?” Michael asked.
Calum shook his head, the thought of how he’d worry taking the edge off his anger. The time he’d come home late after hanging out with Luke pushed into his mind and he remembered how worried Ashton had been that something had happened to him. This time, something actually had.
Several x-rays later, they told him there were no fractures and he was lucky there wasn’t any permanent damage, particularly around his swollen eye. Calum mulled that word over. Lucky. He knew they were right, it could have been much worse, but it was still a weird thought. He didn’t feel lucky.
At Calum’s request, they went back to Michael and Luke’s. He couldn’t face Ashton like this. Not right now. He still didn’t even know what to say to him. On the way there, he told him he’d decided to stay with them for the night. He knew it was too much to hope that it would be enough, but he still groaned when Ashton asked why.
As he racked his mind for an answer, Calum started crying and hated every tear, hated knowing that it was exactly what they wanted, that they wanted him to feel weak and hurt and afraid. Luke put a careful arm around him and Calum welcomed the embrace, turning to cry into his shirt. Thank god Ashton wasn’t here to see this.
Unfortunately, he was waiting for them when they pulled up. Michael got out to greet him while Calum attempted to dry his eyes, knowing that it was futile but desperate to put on a brave face for Ashton.
When he finally got out, his blood ran cold.
Michael had his hands up defensively, as if he was trying to talk Ashton down, and Ashton was pressing the tip of a knife to the skin below his ear, his eyes cold.
“Ash?” Calum croaked, throat tight from his sob fest.
Ashton’s eyes flickered to him and he pulled the knife away enough for Michael to step back. He watched Michael’s retreat like a hawk as he folded away about two inches of blade. Vaguely, Calum thought it was funny to find out Ashton and Michael both kept huge scary knives on their persons on the same night. Apparently they had a lot in common.
“What happened?” Ashton demanded.
Calum stepped towards him. “It’s okay, I-” A hand on his wrist stopped him. He looked back at Luke and saw terror in his eyes.
Nobody said a word as Calum glanced around at them all.
“What the fuck is going on?” he asked as his eyes fell on Ashton.
“Maybe we should go inside,” Michael suggested.
“No,” Ashton snapped, “I’m taking him home.”
“Ash…”
Ashton’s gaze softened when he looked at Calum.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Calum implored, “Please.”
Ashton nodded. “I’ll explain when we get home.”
“No. Tell me now.”
“Calum…” Luke fretted.
“Why are you so scared of him?” Calum asked Luke, though the question did feel somewhat silly now that Ashton had actually proven himself capable of being fucking scary.
“I really think we should discuss this inside,” Michael said.
“No,” Ashton repeated.
“Yes.” Calum looked Ashton in the eye. “I’m fucking exhausted and I’m not leaving until I know what everyone’s fucking problem is.”
Ashton gave Michael a hateful look. “Fine.”
Luke kept throwing nervous glances back at Ashton as he and Michael led them inside. Michael showed them to the lounge room, giving Ashton a long look before heading to the kitchen with Luke.
Calum fell to the couch, weariness nagging at his bones. Ashton sat beside him and looked him over, worry in his eyes.
“What happened?” he asked softly, tilting Calum’s face with his fingertips to get a look at his black eye.
“Some of my dad’s friends,” Calum reluctantly mumbled, “They recognised me after work.”
Anger flashed in Ashton’s eyes, but he looked up as Luke came in with a bag of peas wrapped in a teatowel. He avoided returning Ashton’s gaze as he handed it to Calum and stepped back.
“So what’s going on between you guys?” Calum asked once Michael had joined them in the lounge room.
Michael gave Ashton a pointed look. “You wanna be the one to break it to him?”
Calum looked at Ashton expectantly.
“Michael kills people,” Ashton said.
Michael scoffed. “So do you.”
Calum stared, blood rushing in his ears. “What do you mean?”
Ashton glared at Michael. “He’s a serial killer.”
“So are you.”
“Wait, as in…” Calum took a deep breath. “This is a bad joke.”
“It’s not a joke,” Ashton told him, “That’s why I keep asking you to stay away from him.”
Calum squeezed his eyes shut. “You kill people?”
Ashton tried to touch his shoulder, but he shook him off. “Only bad people. Rapists.”
“Why?”
“I need to. I get cold. It’s the only thing that helps.”
“You…” Calum’s head snapped up. “Wait. Is that what…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“That’s what I do when I leave,” Ashton confirmed.
Calum stared at him. “You killed someone? When you were gone?”
Ashton looked pained. “He was just a rapist.”
“When did you do it?”
“Yesterday.”
“Yesterday,” Calum repeated. He looked up at Michael. “And you knew.”
Michael looked hesitant. “I didn’t know he was picky, like us. That’s why we keep worrying about you. We thought he might kill you.”
Luke looked uncomfortable.
“What’ve you got to do with this?” Calum asked him, “Are you a fucking serial killer too?”
“I’m sorry,” Luke whispered.
“You really threw me off, to be honest,” Ashton said, eyeing Luke down, “I thought it was Michael at first, but you killed Ethan, didn’t you?”
It didn’t feel like a question. Calum looked at Luke, who refused to meet anyone’s eye and looked like he wanted to hide behind Michael.
“I didn’t mean to.”
“Ethan got what was coming to him,” Michael snapped, wrapping an arm around Luke, “The only reason he didn’t deserve it was because nothing could be enough to pay for what he put Luke through.”
The puzzle pieces clicked together.
“Ethan did that to you? I thought it was Phil.”
Luke frowned at the ground.
“Phil let it happen,” Michael bit, “He knew about everything and pretended his son wasn’t a fucking monster. He just got wasted every night and acted like none of it was his fault.”
“I went there when we got back,” Luke said softly, “The rock I did it with is still there.”
Calum exhaled and looked around at everyone. What the fuck was he supposed to say? He was way too tired for this.
“Are you mad at me?”
He barely heard Luke’s quiet question.
“No, I-” He ran his hand through his hair. “What happens now?”
“You leave us alone,” Ashton told Michael.
“Stop it,” Calum said tiredly. He huffed a wry laugh. “You two hate each other a lot considering how much you have in common.”
“I won’t let him touch you,” Ashton told him.
“I’m not gonna lay a finger on him,” Michael replied, “You’re the dangerous one here.”
Ashton glared and took Calum’s hand. “Are we done? Calum needs to rest.”
Calum withdrew his hand. “I don’t…”
Ashton frowned.
“I’m sorry, I just…” He sighed. “You kill people.”
“I’d never hurt you,” Ashton murmured, his expression genuine.
Calum looked away. “I wanna stay here tonight. Is that okay?” he asked Luke.
Luke nodded, eyes flickering to Ashton nervously.
Ashton nodded understandingly, looking hurt. “I’ll stay too, then. In case something happens.”
“I’m not gonna kill him,” Michael sighed in exasperation.
“I’m gonna shower,” Calum interjected before Ashton could reply.
Every bone in his body ached and there was only so much the hot water could do to soothe it. Ugly bruises were forming everywhere, staining his skin as he scrubbed away sweat, dirt and blood.
A soft knock came at the door as he pondered putting his dirty clothes back on.
“I have some clothes,” Luke called.
Calum opened the door to take them, not looking Luke in the eye. Did he even know him anymore?
Luke was waiting on the bed when he came out, the clean clothes making him feel marginally better.
“Is it okay if I stay with you?” Luke asked nervously.
Calum nodded. He’d feel like a real dickhead if he kicked Luke out of his own bed. Besides, he needed someone and despite what he’d just learned about him, he still found Luke’s presence comforting.
“Do you … need to kill people like Ashton does?” Calum asked as they laid in the darkness.
“It was just Ethan at first,” Luke said softly, “I was just so scared. I told him I was leaving with Michael and he said he’d find me. Hurt me so bad I’d wish I was dead.”
Calum pulled him to his chest, heart aching at the thought of Luke being so afraid. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Anyway, sometimes I help Michael. It makes me feel … safe, I guess.”
It was almost so faint he could have imagined it, but when Michael or Ashton said something just loud enough for them to hear, Calum felt Luke’s pulse speed up.
“Why does Michael do it?” he asked, hoping to distract him from the raised voices.
“He hates rapists. He wants to help people by killing every one he finds.”
“Fair enough.”
Luke breathed a laugh. “Yeah.”
“Does he scare you?”
“Nah. He’d never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it.”
Calum considered that. His sense of morality had been taking some serious hits lately. At first glance, of course he believed rapists should be punished, but in actual fact Ashton, Michael and Luke killed people. They were killers. Surely that had to damage them somehow.
As Luke drifted off and Calum remembered his nightmare, it occurred to him that they were already damaged.
You’ve Cut the Wrong Damn Wire - Chapter Ten
Word Count: 1243
Leave Kudos?
Calum cast a glance at Luke, slumped at the kitchen table. “You guys have ice cream or something for these?” he asked, gesturing to the growing plate of pancakes on the counter next to him.
Luke nodded, his chair barely making a sound as he stood. He remained hunched as he silently walked to the fridge and reached up to the top of the door. Calum couldn’t see what he was doing, but the door was much quieter than it should’ve been when he opened it and took out a tub of Blue Ribbon.
“Perfect,” Calum said, giving an encouraging smile that Luke didn’t see because he kept his eyes on the floor as he returned to the table.
When the last pancake was in the pan, Calum took the mixing bowl to the sink and started filling it with warm water.
“Picked this up from Ashton,” he told Luke in an attempt to ease some of the dark cloud in the room, “He always washes his dishes as he cooks.”
Luke didn’t reply. He’d become fragile after opening up to Calum, jumping at loud noises and flinching at sudden movements.
Calum got out a plate each for he and Luke and brought them to the table. “Help yourself.”
Slowly, Luke took the top pancake.
“You can have more, if you want. There’s plenty.”
As Luke served himself, he softly spoke up. “Where did you learn to make these?”
“Ashton. I help him cook a lot and this is a pretty easy recipe.”
“Was he mad when you asked if he was cheating?”
Calum frowned at the suddenness of the question. “No.”
Luke nodded and took a bite of pancake.
“Why are you so worried about him? He’s not...bad to me. He’s never even yelled at me.”
Luke chewed in thought for a moment. “I dunno...there’s just something about him, you know? I guess he reminds me of someone.”
The worst part of what he said not feeling like the whole truth was the familiarity in the words.
“In what way?” Calum prompted, half wishing he wasn’t asking. Ashton wasn’t like the guys he knew in juvy, he just wasn’t.
Luke eyed him nervously. “You’re probably right,” he quietly ceded, “If he really hasn’t hurt you, he’s probably fine, ay?”
As unsatisfied as he was with the outcome of the conversation, Calum didn’t want to make Luke more uncomfortable after such a difficult night. He reluctantly dropped it and they ate in silence for a few minutes.
“When’s Michael getting back?” he eventually asked, hoping that talking about him would cheer Luke up.
“He said he might be back by tonight, but it might be a few days.”
“I have work tomorrow, but do you wanna watch more movies if he’s not?” Part of Calum didn’t want to leave Luke on his own and he suspected that discomfort with being alone was the reason he invited Calum over in the first place.
Luke smiled. “Definitely.”
Calum texted Ashton to let him know the plan. He probably wouldn’t mind, he might not even get back today. Calum still hadn’t figured out how much alone time he usually needed and, now that Calum was supporting his trips, Ashton might let himself be gone longer.
Eventually, Ashton texted back to say he wouldn’t be home until tomorrow but hoped Calum was enjoying his time with Luke. Calum assured him that things were going great and nearly said he missed him, but thought better of it. He didn’t want to pressure him into coming home before he was ready.
That night, they watched the John Wick movies and bonded over their shared undying love of Keanu Reeves. Luke seemed back to his happy self by the time they went to bed, less shy about cuddling up to Calum than he’d been the night before. He didn’t have any nightmares and helped Calum make bacon and eggs for breakfast in the morning.
When Calum went home to get dressed for work, Ashton texted to say he’d be back later that day. Work dragged by, Calum constantly checking the time in anticipation of welcoming him back. Even if Ashton said he was okay now, Calum wanted to see it for himself.
The minute his shift ended, Calum was out the door, checking his phone to see Ashton’s text from a few hours ago telling him he was home. Calum told him he was on his way and had barely made it to his motorbike before Ashton texted him back to tell him to drive safe.
The moment Calum was inside the door, Ashton pounced on him and shoved him back into it, lips pressed hard against his. For a moment, Calum melted into it, letting Ashton in and instinctively resting his hands on his hips.
“Ash,” he gasped the moment he had enough air to speak.
Ashton pulled away, a dark glint in his eye as his hand moved downwards. “Yeah?” he checked.
Calum nodded. “Fuck yes. Just-”
Ashton froze, eyes searching his face.
“Let me get my work stuff off first.”
Ashton rolled his eyes and pressed their lips back together, hands at the buttons of Calum’s shirt. They separated for a moment to get it over his head and then were back together, Ashton groping at Calum’s bare chest and trailing kisses to his jaw and neck.
“Missed you,” Ashton murmured, palming at Calum through his pants.
“Missed you too,” Calum laughed.
Before things could go any further, Ashton grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the bedroom. They had a moment to breathe while they took the rest of their clothes off, then Ashton was pushing Calum onto the bed and caging him in with his arms.
Calum didn’t want to be the kind of guy who judges how good a relationship is going based on the sex, but if he were to start he’d say that he and Ashton were in a really fucking good place for the first time in what felt like forever. He couldn’t deny that he’d wondered if things changed between them after Ashton opened up to him, but now he realised that, although he understood and respected Ashton’s need for space, he’d missed feeling wanted in bed.
Lying with Ashton as they drifted to sleep, Calum felt like things between them were finally okay again. As he pulled himself closer, his fingers grazed what felt like a cut on Ashton’s waist.
Calum frowned. “Did you get hurt?” he asked quietly.
“Just scratched myself,” Ashton murmured back, “Barely even bled.”
Calum pressed his lips to the back of Ashton’s shoulder. “Better let me kiss it better in the morning.”






