No Words Needed
Pairing: Michael Clifford x Luke Hemmings
Summary: Luke loves his bandmates a lot. Michael, maybe more so. When an accident happens on tour, Luke shuts down and refuses to speak, and only Michael can help him.
Word count: 3,028
Warnings: Panic attacks, general OCD thoughts, mild hurt/comfort, selectively mute + OCD Luke
A/N: Read it down below OR read it on ao3 here
Luke’s never really been a talker. Back in the early days of the band, he’d barely say a word unless he was singing, but now he’s talking more, being more open and vulnerable. He’s still not a massive talker. That’s why he has Michael, who yaps away about anything and everything. However, there’s one part of Luke that only his closest friends and family know; he’s selectively mute, but it only occurs when his emotions are at an all time high. When he’s majorly overwhelmed or stressed, it’s impossible to get a word out of him. Usually it would only last a few hours or a day before he’s back to himself.
Well, until the accident happened.
They were in Lisbon, for the last UK/EU show of the Everyone’s a Star! Tour. Everything was going fine until Michael tripped and fell, smashing his head into the pink limousine drum riser. He kept going through the rest of the show but Luke could tell he was a little dazed and shocked. As soon as they got backstage, Michael collapsed, Calum only barely catching him before he hit his head again. The last words Luke spoke were to a paramedic when the ambulance arrived a short while later, frantically asking if he’ll be okay. After that, Calum and Ashton tried to talk to him, but all they got was a shake or nod of the head.
The hospital stay wasn’t long, only a couple days of taking care of the stitches (three in his forehead from the initial fall, which no one seemed to pay attention to until backstage) and monitoring his concussion. As a condition of his release, the doctors advised him to move in with a roommate, someone that could help if Michael suddenly collapsed or had any lingering problems from the concussion. So, he had texted Luke, who immediately agreed. They’ve been living together for three days now, and Luke hasn’t spoken a word. Not just to Mikey, but to everyone.
It was hard at first, rightfully, but after spending 15 years in each other’s lives, Michael grew accustomed to Luke’s moves pretty quickly, and words were no longer needed around the concussed man’s flat. Michael knew that Luke always needed to be symmetrical, always needed to turn the lights off in twos, always had to get into the bed the “right” way. It was tricky, trying to grow accustomed to Luke’s little quirks, but Michael’s there for him the whole time. Besides, after the Lisbon show on May 2nd, they already knew that they weren’t playing until the 29th, so the break is good for Mikey to rest and recover to be his best self for the USA leg of the tour. Luke enjoys being around him, especially when he gets to play nurse.
The flat is quiet, all the lights either dimmed or completely turned off. The two men are sitting in the living room, a bowl of microwave popcorn resting on Luke’s lap, through Michael’s the one eating most of it. A movie is playing on the tv, the red haired man only speaking to make a joke or criticism of the movie. “Stanley Kubrick makes sure you can’t see shit in these movies,” he jokes. Luke doesn’t say a peep, lips only moving to wrap around a piece of popcorn he brings to his lips. Michael glances at him, sighing softly at the lack of reaction.
“Hey, you need to speak sometime, Lu,” he whispers, leaning over to press a soft kiss to the spot right under Luke’s ear. Sure, they’re only friends, but friends kiss each other in spots that typically make them moan…right? Right. When he pulls away, he sighs again, the younger man still radio silent. Michael nods, slowly untangling their legs before he stands. As soon as he takes a step, there’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling him back. He looks over his shoulder, seeing the petrified look on Luke’s face. His chest is heaving, baby blue eyes wide with panic. Michael sighs, shifting his own hand to intertwine with Luke’s, “I’m going to the bathroom, Lu.”
At the whimper that escapes Luke’s lips, Michael moves quickly. He kneels down in front of the panicked man, squeezing his hand (twice, it always has to be twice), “I’ll be okay, I’m just going to the bathroom,” he repeats. Luke still doesn’t let go. The older man is getting frustrated now, “Luke. Let me take a fucking piss.” Finally, he lets go.
Michael stands, kissing both sides of Luke’s temple before escaping off to the bathroom in peace. He does his business, washes his hands, and walks back to the living room, slotting back into his regular place beside Luke. Always on the younger man’s left, he sits, because Luke likes the right side more. The movie finishes soon after, and Michael turns to Luke, hand resting casually on his knee, “Luke, you’re scaring me,” he deadpans, frowning softly as he squeezes the leg of the younger man’s pants,”You need to speak. To say something, it’s unhealthy to be so silent.”
Silence follows, which frustrated Michael, but he tries to keep it at bay, not wanting to scare the other man. “Selective mutism, right? Can you write down what I can do to make you more comfortable in this space?” He watches a pink hue dust Luke’s cheek, not used to being asked questions like that. He takes his phone out, typing something on his notes app before turning the screen around to show the guitarist.
“Can we lay down together? I want to feel your heart beating. It really scared me the other day :(”
“Sure, Lu. C’mon.” With that, Michael hauls the younger male up, dragging him to the bedroom. Michael lets Luke get into bed first, taking him two times before he gets in “right,” to which the elder climbs in after him. The red head lays flat, with the younger male laying on top of him, ear pressed firmly against the clothed chest. He’s listening to the steady thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump of the older’s heartbeat. They’re silent, letting the younger male self-soothe. Michael smiles softly, hand carding through Luke’s jet black hair, “Hey,” he whispers, hand paused on the side of his head, “The black looks good on you. Really sexy.” He’s teasing him, and Luke knows that, but it still makes him blush. He turns his head up to look at the elder.
Still radio silent, but feeling slightly better now, he lets out a soft hum of agreement. Despite how he acts on stage (“slutty,” Michael once called it), Luke’s still that sweet boy inside, with the baby blue eyes and loving smile. He misses the blonde sometimes, but he likes the change. Michael smiles, thumb gently tracing the shell of Luke’s ear, earning a shiver and a sound that’s almost a whimper, “You like that?” The older man asks, Luke nods. The smile on the elder’s face grows ten-fold, rubbing his thumb over the shell of his ear again. He leans down, pressing a kiss just below his friend’s ear.
“Lu,” he whines, “Kiss me.” He’s teasing him again, trying to get him to protest or saying something. They do this all the time, tease each other and joke about being “gay for each other”, but it never usually gets this…intimate. Luke typically laughs and shoves him, but this time, Luke lets out a weak laugh, turning his head and bumping their noses together. Michael smiles, brushing their noses together a couple times before taking a leap, pressing their lips together in a soft peck. It only lasts a second or two before they’re pulling away, faces frozen in shock and newly realised feelings. “Woah,” the elder murmurs, attempting to smile but it’s tight, clearly forced so as to not worry Luke. His cheeks dust pink, lips red and puffy from being chewed between his teeth anxiously.
Instead of a laugh, or a shove, or a slur being yelled at his face, Michael has a hand grabbing the back of his neck. “Mikey,” Luke breathes out, the first words spoken since the accident. He looks wrecked already, and they’ve only shared one tiny kiss. The raven-haired man gulps, before pulling Michael back down, connecting their lips again. This kiss is different from that pathetic peck. This time, it’s rough, full of tongue and teeth and spit being shared. Luke’s desperate for Michael’s lips against his own, so much so that it’s the first thing to make him talk again, “Fuck me,” he groans against his lips, hands wandering to the guitarist’s hips to pull him close. He’s straddling him now, knees digging into the mattress either side of Michael’s waist.
The elder smirks, “Is that an exclamation or a request?”
“A demand.”
“Ooh, feisty.” With that, Michael places his hands on Luke’s thighs, rubbing gently. However, they don’t get much further than that, Michael pulling away just as Luke tries to undo his pants, "Hey, stop. I want to savour this, and right now, you’re barely getting over one of your mute episodes. I want to talk about that first, then we can do stuff.”
Luke looks hesitant, unsure if he wants to talk about everything right now. But he ultimately decides that Michael wants to talk, so they’ll talk. He stays on his lap, hands rubbing his chest gently, “When you…collapsed. I freaked. I shut down. I tried really hard to talk, but I couldn’t. I tried really hard, I promise!” He’s getting panicked again, so Michael catches his wrists in his hands, squeezing them in a one-two pattern, the way he knows Luke’s OCD likes. It instantly calms him down.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, “But it’s true. I wanted to talk but I physically couldn’t. I hate it…”
“I know you do, Lukey. You know you’re still my boy, got it?”
“I’m still your boy?” It takes him a moment to realise the irony of what he said, but when he realises it, he smiles softly, “Dumbass, you just wanted me to say the title of my song!” He exclaims, pretending to be mad but he’s far from it. With a sigh, he leans down, nipping Michael’s lip, “I’m your boy, and you’re mine.”
“Damn right,” he replies into the kiss they soon share. Their lips move in sync for a while, before Luke sits up on his lap, tracing shapes into the fabric of Michael’s shirt.
“So…can we move onto the fun part now?” He asks, smirking softly. Michael rolls his eyes but ultimately ends up nodding, sitting up so they can kiss again. Luke’s hands move up, teasing the button of Michael’s flannel open before moving down to the next one. Once it’s opened, Luke gently pushes it off, loosely folding it before tossing it on the floor anyway. He lays Michael down, gently running his palms over the expanse of his chest, the soft ridges of muscle. He leans down, kisses being pressed all over his chest and stomach. He gets down to his bellybutton before a realisation strikes him. He sits up again, earning an impatient groan from the man under him. “Does this mean we’re boyfriends? Or are we just…hooking up?”
Silence falls over the room as Michael thinks, face red from all the blood rushing through him. He tilts his head back against the pillow, squinting at the ceiling as if it has the answer written up there for him to read off of. Instead, he hums, “Do you want to be boyfriends?” He asks back, answering the question with a question.
The younger male hums, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, “I would like to be,” he states. Michael smiles, leaning up and pecking a kiss to Luke’s lips. He hums, arching into the hands on his bare chest as they pull apart.
“Then we’re boyfriends,” he whispers.
« ☆ —⋆——꒰ঌ·☆·໒꒱ ——⋆— ☆ »
Luke’s not having the best afternoon. Sure, in the late-morning Michael and him watched a movie, confessed their love, and fucked…but then they fell asleep. When the younger male woke up, he was on the wrong side of the bed, and it took him three tries before it felt right getting up. He threw clothes on and pressed a kiss to Mikey’s forehead before leaving to get groceries for the apartment.
Well, on the way home, he accidentally stood on a crack in the sidewalk. He knew he was in public, so his entire breakdown was internal. He sent a hundred messages to his mum, brothers, and Michael. Jack and Benny replied saying that they were fine, Michael didn’t answer, and Liz had to ring Luke, trying to calm him down while he walked home with arms full of groceries. By the time he got up to the apartment, he was still panicky, but less so now.
“Mikey!” Luke calls out as he enters the apartment, arms full of reusable grocery bags. He unceremoniously dumps them on the kitchen island to deal with later. He walks to the living room, but not before turning the kitchen light on and off again. Once, then twice, or his mum dies. He doesn't hear a reply from the older male, which alarms him. His OCD-riddled brain is already creating hundreds of scenarios.
Michael is dead somewhere in the house. Michael packed up and left. Michael was kidnapped. This is all Luke’s fault. If he didn’t step on that crack, Michael would still be here.
“Michael!” He yells, eyebrows furrowed as he runs through the apartment, looking in each and every room. When he finds Michael, he’s fast asleep and snoring in bed, still bare from their activities last night. Luke rushes over, standing over the elder as he shakes his shoulders, whispering his name over and over. Michael stirs with a jump, green eyes opening to meet baby blue. Luke lets out a sob, dropping to his knees beside the bed and burying his head into the side of Michael’s stomach.
All the elder can do is card his fingers through the black strands of hair, “What’s wrong, baby?” Luke shakes his head, lips locked. Not again, Michael thinks to himself. He gently grasps a handful of black curls, pulling the younger’s head up to make eye contact again, “Hey. What’s wrong?” He’s firmer now.
Instead of replying, Luke grabs Michael’s free hand and presses it against his chest, wanting him to feel the slow and steady rhythm. The elder catches on pretty quickly, “You got scared because I was asleep. Compulsion?” Luke nods. Michael sighs, sitting up and letting the sheets pool around his hips, “You got groceries, yeah? Let’s go put them away,” he suggests. Luke nods, standing up to find Michael some clothes, tossing him some shorts and a tank top.
Upon seeing the fabrics tossed at him, Michael smiles softly, “Y’know, I could just walk around naked, if you’d prefer,” he teases, grinning at the blush on his boyfriend’s cheeks. After tossing on the clothes, Michael leads the younger male out to the kitchen, sighing as he sees the multiple bags on the counters. “You take care of the cold stuff and I’ll take care of the pantry?” Luke nods, kissing Michael’s cheek before walking over to the bag of groceries that go in the fridge and freezer.
They chat as they pack away. Or, well…Michael chats, and Luke listens, humming occasionally in agreement. “I plan on eating an entire tub of ice cream while watching black and white reruns tonight. And you are, too. Everyone knows you can’t binge eat ice cream without the love of your life.” He glances over, seeing Luke smiling and blushing. The younger nods, lip pulled between his teeth.
“Sounds good,” he manages to murmur, which causes Michael to freeze. He looks over, smiling softly and nodding in agreement. Luke’s feeling bolder now, approaching Michael from behind and placing his hands on his hips, “How’s your head?”
“I haven’t had any complaints, yet,” Michael freezes as he realises what he’s just said.
“What?”
“I mean uh– Yeah! Feeling…much better. Kinda forgot I’m even concussed at all.”
There’s a pause, as both men try to move past the awkward and embarrassing moment. They both have blush dusting their cheeks, but Luke’s the one to break the tension. He bursts into a fit of giggles, burying his face in the space between Michael’s collarbone and neck, “You’re dumb,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the skin there before pulling away. “If you need advil, it’s in the usual spot,” he adds, going back over to the fridge to continue packing things away. It takes them another 20 minutes of shameless flirting before they’ve packed everything away, now sitting on the couch with a tub of ice cream between them.
The television is playing an old Christmas movie, so old that it’s in black and white. Michael turns to scoop some ice cream onto his spoon, but pauses as he sees Luke, who is invested in the movie, spoon hanging from his lips. He looks like an angel, something sacred straight from a painting in the Louvre. The ice cream is forgotten by the younger male, instead revered by the movie. His eyes are as wide as saucers, the spoon only being removed from his lips to quietly repeat the script back to the screen, “You want the moon? Just say the word and I’ll throw a lasso around it!” Maybe he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, but Michael finds it to be absolutely adorable.
Even through the compulsions and mute episodes, Michael will always be there for Luke. They’ve been attached at the hip since they were 16, and nothing has changed in those 15 years of the band. In fact, they’re even more attached now that they’ve made things official. Some OCD compulsions and periods of silence aren’t going to stop Michael from loving the man in front of him. Nothing could stop the love they’ve felt for each other for years.
All Luke needs is some love, and he’s going to get it. Michael will make sure of it.
