Chapter Text
Michael has finally moved out of his parents' house. It took him long enough, his mum's reminded him enough times, but he found an ad in the paper on a loft apartment of a shared house right in Michael's price range, significantly lower even.
He's hauled all his crap out of his old room still tainted with teen Michael and shoved most of the bulging boxes in the back of Ashton's band van, but he's left a few things behind. His mum's a bit teary as she waves him off but Michael doesn't know why because she's been on his back for the past three years trying to make him leave.
Ashton peels out of Michael's drive and they trundle down the road in the old van they used to trek around the country in when they were teenagers pretending their band was the best thing to come out of Australia.
"Finally living in the real world eh?" Ashton says and turns to Michael as they pull up at a red light.
Michael shrugs. "Guess so," he mumbles. He's still kinda pissed that their two-man band thing hadn't work out all those years ago because that's all he ever wanted, to be in a band and tour the world with his best friend.
But it's whatever. The real world will do.
Ashton takes a final left and they slow as they drive down the road and finally Michael's new place comes into view. Ashton parks and both boys stare out of the window at the brown brick building. It's kinda scummy and there's a house next door with some windows boarded up but it's okay, Michael doesn't mind.
He sighs and unclips his seat belt, getting out so he can drag his shit into his new place.
-
He's been here a few days and he thinks he's met everybody else that lives in the house too. There's Tom from the basement room who goes to work all day and creeps back in at ridiculous hours of the morning, there's Alex who's room is beside the kitchen on the first floor who always steals Michael's milk like he thinks Michael doesn't realise and there's Calum who lives in the room directly underneath Michael's who Michael thinks is the coolest. He told him how everything worked and says good morning to him every day before he leaves for work.
"Morning," Calum says on the third day of Michael being there.
"Hey," Michael yawns, rubbing a hand through his tangled hair.
"How's everything going? You all settled in?" He asks, pouring what appears to be a second mug of coffee.
"Yeah, it's good, everything's unpacked," Michael says, going to his cupboard to find his cornflakes. "And I think I've met everyone now so it's good."
"Who've you met?" Calum asks.
"Uh, you, Tom and Alex," Michael says, putting the box back and walking to the fridge.
"Oh," Calum says.
"Oh?" Michael repeats.
Calum looks like he knows something Michael doesn't.
"Does anybody else live here?" Michael asks.
"No, that's everyone," Calum says. "Well, apart from Luke."
"Luke?"
"Yeah," Calum's still got that face and it's making Michael feel uneasy.
"What room is he in? I should probably say hello seeing as I've been here a few days already."
Calum looks like he's either really scared or about to piss his pants laughing. "Don't worry, you'll meet him soon," he says ominously.
Michael opens the fridge and gives Calum a confused look. "What-"
"Well I gotta go to work," Calum cuts in quickly. "S'later."
"Uh, bye?" Michael says into the now empty room.
He pulls his milk out of the fridge and rolls his eyes.
"Tom stop taking my fucking milk!" He yells, then rolls his eyes again at the muffled sorry! from the other side of the wall.
-
He goes out with Ashton that evening. They sit in a ropey old pub at a wobbly table drinking watered down beer.
"I hate being broke," Michael grimaces after taking another sip of his pint.
Ashton nods. "You get used to it though," he tells Michael, seemingly not bothered about the disgusting beer as he drains his glass.
Michael eyes him sceptically.
"I know it's hard when your parents aren't giving you money but you'll manage, just buy cheap food and stop showering every day," Ashton says, cackling when he sees Michael's face.
"Anyway, how's the house?"
"It's good actually," Michael says. "Comfortable and everything. And I've met everyone there, well except this other guy that Calum told me about earlier."
"Oh that's good," Ashton comments. He eyes the bar and stands up. "You want another drink?"
Michael gives him a look that means are you mad? and Ashton laughs and says "okay, okay" then slides off to get another one for himself.
Michael puffs out a breath and taps his fingers on the table, looking around the pub. It's a hole in the wall, dirty and smells of piss, but he actually thinks he quite likes it.
Ashton returns a minute later with a couple of glasses and a tray of shots. "Think we should celebrate you growing up," he says with a smirk, and Michael willingly complies, not even considering that this could be a bad idea.
-
He's stumbling up the garden path, tripping over weeds that spew through the cracks in the paving, hissing "shh!"s at himself as he kicks a random glass bottle that clatters down the path behind him.
He halts at the door and tries to remember where he put his keys. Everything is hazy and he hiccups as he pats down the pockets of his jeans, finally finding them in his back pocket. He breathes heavily in concentration as he shoves the key in the lock and jangles it about, trying to remember how the bloody thing works.
Finally it opens and Michael crashes into the hall, again shushing himself and the door as it loudly clicks shut. He continues to haul himself up three flights of stairs until he gets to his room. He clicks the light on and oh.
There's someone in his room.
He rubs his eyes, trying to comprehend whether the boy perched on the edge of his bed is real or a drunken hallucination.
"Hello?" He tries.
The boy was already gawping at him since he'd turned the light on but now he seemed frozen, stuck to Michael's bed.
"Why are you in my room?" Michael frowns.
"I, er, I'm sorry," he stammers. "I should go," he says quickly and wafts pasts Michael so quickly it looks like he's floating.
When he's gone Michael just stands in the doorway blinking at the spot where the boy had been. What the hell was that?
He's in no condition to ponder potential creeps so just falls face first on his bed, not even bothering to turn off the light. Within seconds he's snoring like a bunged up bear, unaware of what's going to happen tomorrow.
-
He wakes up the next morning with his mouth feeling like carpet and his head weighing about forty tonnes and the slightest recollection of a weedy blonde boy sat in his room last night.
Michael is never drinking with Ashton again.
He needs to sort out his head so he stumbles downstairs finding that the whole house is empty. Who the hell works on Sundays? He gets to the bathroom and fishes about in the cabinet trying to find a packet of the strongest painkillers in there. When successful he swallows them dry and pushes through to the kitchen to make some food or something that'll stop his stomach sounding like a walrus trapped in a tumble dryer.
He swings the fridge open and then remembers that oh yeah, he's poor, so he just takes a large bottle of almost-empty coke and takes a swig. It freezes his throat as he swallows it down and he winces, puts it back, then heads back up to his room. He's not doing anything today.
Once back in his room he collapses in his bed and falls asleep again with no warning.
-
Michael wakes a few hours later with a start. There's someone looking at him, he can feel it. His eyes snap open and looming above him is a gangly blonde boy.
"What the fuck?" Michael almost yells, lunging into an upright position.
The boy jumps about eighty foot backwards. Michael looks at him and thinks he looks familiar, and that's when he remembers that he is familiar, and this same kid was in his room last night.
"Who are you and what are you doing in my room? Again?"
The boy's pale face turns pink but he stays silent.
"Well?" Michael demands, swinging his legs to the side and getting out of bed. He doesn't know why he's mad, he should probably be scared or creeped out but no, he's mad and shouting at this spindly kid that can't be too much younger than Michael himself.
The boy cracks under Michael's stare and squeaks "my name's Luke."
Luke. Michael tries to remember why that sounds like something he should remember.
"Oh shit, you live here too right?" Michael understands now, and the anger has melted away. "Calum said I still needed to meet you."
Luke just looks at him. "What did Calum say?" He asks quietly.
"Just that I hadn't met a guy called Luke yet. I'm Michael by the way, I live in this house too," Michael smiles.
"Did he say anything else?"
"Nope," Michael says. Then finally realising the situation adds, "wait, why are you in my room? I mean it's okay as long as you don't fuck anything up but it's kinda weird considering I hadn't met you yet. Especially last night, that was just creepy man."
Luke looks very uncomfortable. "Uh, I'm sorry it's just, uh-"
"It's okay dude, chill out," Michael laughs. "Just like, knock next time or something."
Luke doesn't say anything, just avoids Michael's stare. Luckily (or unluckily) Michael's stomach growls like an angry tiger locked in a cage and Michael says "I'm gonna go out and get a pizza or something, m'starving. You wanna come? Or you gonna wait here?"
Luke just shrugs.
"Alright well," Michael hesitates, looking at him, then says "I'll be back soon, see you in a bit," He calls, pulling his shoes on whilst attempting to get out of his room.
"Bye," Luke says feebly after him.
-
Michael returns about half an hour later cradling a very large pizza box. He takes the thing up to his room and as he opens the door says "hey man I didn't know what you liked so I just got pepperoni, that's cool right?"
When he doesn't get a response he looks up to find his room empty. Oh. "Luke?" He asks, just in case he's hiding or something.
"Luuuuke?" He tries again.
The room stays silent. Michael shrugs. Whatever, more for him then.
-
Michael doesn't see Luke for a few days after that. Which is weird because like, how can you live with a person yet not see them for days at a time? He'd think that he'd made him up, that he was just a figment of his imagination if Calum hadn't mentioned him.
One evening Michael's in the kitchen trying to get the oven working. It's a temperamental heap of crap and Michael stands above it, puzzled, as the hob tuts at him. He twiddles a few knobs and the tutting stops yet it makes a weird bong noise and Michael thinks it's probably about to explode. Luckily Calum enters and Michael walks away from the oven like he had nothing to do with it.
Calum flips a switch and it shuts off, he gives a look to Michael, eyebrows raised and Michael smiles sheepishly. "Guess I'll just have cereal for dinner," he says with a guilty chuckle.
Calum just shakes his head and Michael feels like a kid again. It's quiet for a bit as Calum undoes his tie, sighs tiredly and Michael pours some cereal into a bowl, it clanking loudly against the ceramic.
"Hey Calum," Michael says.
"Mm?" Calum replies, busy making a coffee.
"So I met Luke…"
"Right…"
"And he's a nice guy. Bit weird how he just like, appeared in my room, but he seems alright."
Calum turns to face Michael. "Is there a but…?"
Michael nods and ploughs on. "But the last time I spoke to him was a few days ago and I haven't even seen him since. He does live here right? Because that's almost impossible."
Calum looks confused. "So you haven't seen him in a few days?"
Michael confirms. "Yet I see you, Tom and Alex every day. Plus I don't even know which room is his."
Calum bites the inside of his cheek. "Listen Michael, I think it's best you talk to Luke about this."
Michael's confused. "Okay, but like, couldn't you just tell me what's up with him?"
"Luke will tell you," Calum says, then takes his coffee and goes up to his room.
Michael only wonders what's eating Calum for a minute before considering what he actually told him. Talk to Luke about it. Well that's all well and good, if only Luke was actually there to talk to.
-
Turns out Calum's okay, just a bad day at work. Him and Michael are pals again and everything's alright, but Michael still hasn't seen Luke again.
He's got a job now, pulling pints every other night at that crappy pub that Ashton likes. It's a bit of a rubbish job but it's giving him money and sometimes hot girls come in so it's win/win really. But it does mean that he's at home even less, meaning even less time to wait up and see if Luke will come and talk to him. (Michael would talk to Luke, if only Calum would tell him which room is his.)
It's not until one Friday night when Michael finishes unusually late that he finally sees Luke again. Michael hauls himself up to the top of the house and there sat outside the door of his room is Luke. His twenty foot legs are tucked into his chest and Michael can't see his face.
Michael prods him gently with the tip of his shoe. "It would appear you are blocking my door," he says quietly, trying not to wake up the rest of the house.
"Shit, sorry," Luke mumbles, scooching to the side and unfolding his legs to stand up beside Michael. He's taller than him by quite a bit Michael notices, slipping the key in the lock and clicking the door open.
Michael switches on a lamp to avoid blinding himself and kicks off his shoes whilst Luke just looms a few feet away from him.
"You alright?" Michael asks a bit warily, eyeing him as he shrugs off his jacket.
Luke nods but it doesn't look like he means it.
Michael sits on the edge of his bed and Luke watches him do so. Michael looks at him, confused, and decides he'd better ask him where he's been.
"So where've you been these past few days?" Michael asks, aiming for conversational.
Luke doesn't answer for a bit and Michael wants to through a shoe at him. Eventually he shrugs and Michael's urge doesn't go away.
"So you just disappeared and now you don't want to tell me where you went? I know we're not the best of buddies Luke but I was actually starting to get worried."
Luke sighs and asks Michael if he can sit down. Michael nods and shuffles over a bit.
"I think I owe you an explanation," he says quietly. His voice is soft and warm and Michael wants to bathe in it.
"Yeah, I asked Calum but he said you'd tell me," Michael cuts in.
Luke nods. "Yeah, he always tells people that."
Michael's eyebrows raise because he wonders what Luke means by that but he doesn't ask because Luke starts talking before he can.
"I'm going to tell you, but promise me you won't freak out," he says.
Michael looks at him sceptically. "Okay, fine," he breathes reluctantly, anticipating what Luke's about to say.
"I er, used to live here, about fifty years ago-"
Michael chokes on his spit. "Are you shitting me?"
Luke shakes his head. "Listen," he says quietly, before continuing to explain. "I used to live in this house with my parents a long time ago, before it was turned into a shared house. And I was ill, the kind of ill that nobody can see, so nobody knew about it, and I just well, died."
Michael wants to laugh. In any other situation he'd think the person telling this story is talking out of their arse but there's something about Luke's face, the sunken eyes and downward mouth, the sincerity in his voice that makes Michael think that this might actually be true. He continues to listen to Luke, watching him with interest.
"I don't remember the stuff after but yeah, I'm a ghost now. Been haunting this place for ages. Especially this room because it was mine." Luke looks at Michael. "Sorry," he adds sadly.
Michael shakes his head. "No, don't be silly." So much makes sense to him now. "Shouldn't I be sorry? I mean, this is your room," he tries to lighten the mood with a chuckle.
Luke doesn't laugh. "But it's not, is it? Not anymore. Why can't I just let go and leave this place? I can only get away for a few days before this weird force pulls me back again. I wish I knew what this all meant, no one's ever told me the rules of being a ghost. I've been here for years, just hanging around and accidentally scaring people that stay in this room. I haven't seen my parents for ages- fuck, sorry," Luke mumbles the last bit, his voice choked, covering his face with his hands and Michael sees a little tear slither down his cheek.
Michael moves forward cautiously. Can he touch Luke? What if he just phases through him? He tries anyway, and finds that when he snakes an arm around Luke's wiry shoulders it sits there just like it would with an actual person.
"It's okay," Michael says. He's lying of course, he doesn't know what it's like to be a ghost and he's not too sure he'd want to. "It'll be fine," he says, stroking the hair at the base of Luke's neck.
Then as if someone had flipped a switch on in his head he says, "I read this thing once you know, and it said that sometimes people don't fully die because they haven't fulfilled something they were supposed to when they were living. So they might get reincarnated or turn into a ghost or something," Michael's arm slips and he rubs gentle circles into the small of Luke's back. "Maybe that's why you're here? You just need to do some something you were supposed to do when you were alive and then you can go?"
Luke looks at Michael and wipes his eyes, sniffing. "Like what?"
Michael shrugs. "I don't know, could be anything."
Luke looks conflicted but then gets a flash of the numbers on Michael's bedside clock. "Oh my god look at the time, you should go to sleep I'm so sorry for keeping you up!"
He jumps up off the bed and Michael opens his mouth to protest but Luke's already gone, so quick that Michael only sees a white flash.
He doesn't know what it's like to be a ghost but he imagines that that would be pretty cool.
-
Luke's around a lot more constantly after his talk with Michael. He's taken on board what Michael said and is now doing practically everything he remembers not doing whilst he was alive.
"Have you ever had a pizza?" Michael asks one day when he comes home at dinner time from an early shift at the pub.
"I died fifty years ago Mike, not five hundred," Luke laughs, opening the box Michael just put on the table and taking out a slice.
Michael smiles, amused. He's grown quite fond of Luke, especially as he's been helping him try to work out what it is Luke needs to do before he can, you know, go. He's trying not to get attached to him because it'll hurt when Luke leaves him but it's hard when he's this cute, actually cutting up his pizza with a knife and fork and jumping out of his skin when Michael's iPhone on the table beside him flashes with the alert of a new message.
Michael cackles and Luke pouts. "Shut upppp," he whines. "I've only ever seen really old mobile phones. Not one of them," he says, poking the phone with the blunt end of his fork.
Michael just laughs some more and ruffles his hair, Luke is so cute.
And Michael is so screwed.
-
"Where do we stand on alcohol?" Michael asks Luke one evening as the pair sit in his room ticking off a checklist of everything Luke still needs to try. (It's getting ridiculous now, the other day Michael helped Luke to bake a cake and plant a tree in the garden.)
Luke taps the pen in his hand against his chin. "Drank but never drunk."
"Well that's tonight sorted then," Michael says with finality, slipping his shoes on. "Tonight we're getting drunk. Back in a bit, going to get some beer."
Luke doesn't even protest, just waves as Michael exits.
-
A few hours later and the pair are hammered. They're both on the floor, Michael slumped against the side of his bed and Luke had collapsed into a heap some time ago.
Michael's been babbling slurred shit for ages now and neither of them know what he's saying.
"What are you talking about?" Luke manages.
"Questions," Michael struggles. "Was asking some more stuff that you'd done."
"Oh, oh. Carry on," he sounds like he's about to fall asleep.
"Did you have an uh, uhhh dog?"
Luke nods. "Molly," he slurs happily.
Michael nods. "Molly, good," he says. "Did you have an uhhh favourite band?"
"The Rolling Stones!" Luke cheers.
Michael joins in and leans forward, falling on his stomach, to fist bump Luke. They giggle for a bit and Michael tries to think of another question.
"Uh, what about an uh, erm," he swallows. "Girlfriend?"
Luke's eyebrows furrow. "Once," he says. "Didn't really like, love her though."
Michael nods. He mirrors Luke, the pair flat on their fronts, faces just inches away from the other.
"Can I ask why?" Michael says slowly, tongue tripping over the letters.
Luke shrugs. "She was really nice but she just wasn't for me," he pauses, stares right at Michael. "Lovely green eyes though."
Michael blushes and swallows thickly. "Yeah?" He asks, voice suddenly rough.
Luke nods. "Like yours," he says quietly, still staring at Michael with his own bloody blue eyes and Michael knows this is bad but he's drunk and thinks fuck it, inches just that tiny bit forward and presses his lips to Luke's, resting his fingertips on Luke's chin as he does so.
Luke doesn't even stop him, just melts into it and lets out a little content sigh. Michael pulls away about a minute later, eyes wide and lips redder than usual.
"That was bad," he states, suddenly responsibly sober.
Luke nods. "Yep," he says, yet leans back in to kiss Michael again.
Michael kisses him back, it's quick and hot and rough with too much teeth and it's so sooo bad and Michael has to practically rip himself from Luke's lips to get himself to stop.
"We can't do this," he breathes.
Luke sighs, defeated. "I know."
Michael feels conflicted, he looks at Luke, all innocent blue eyes and pouty pink lips and fuck he wants to kiss him again, perhaps do some other things as well but no. No he can't. Luke is a ghost for crying out loud, he can't be with a ghost. And not to mention that he has to go soon, Michael's already in too deep as it is, he can't bury himself even further otherwise he'll never get out.
"Let's just go to bed," he says as a way of resolution, but nothing is solved when Luke climbs in bed beside Michael and curls himself into his side, tangling his legs with Michael's and pressing his palm flat against his chest, feeling for his heartbeat.
-
Michael wakes up and finds that he's curled himself around Luke in the night, arms tight around his middle and face buried in the back of his neck. He smiles and squeezes where he's got his grip on Luke and breathes in deeply. He's shocked into reality when he doesn't smell anything, not Luke's skin, just air.
Oh right, ghost.
Reluctantly Michael peels himself off of Luke, knowing that he can't let himself do this. He tears the curtains open and walks around to the side of the bed where Luke is. He looks even younger when he's asleep, eyelashes fanned out and almost resting on his cheekbones. From his lips comes a tiny snore and Michael literally has to force his adoring smile away.
"Ay Luke," he says loudly, poking him in the side. "Wake up."
Luke doesn't stir.
"Wake up," Michael says again, louder.
Luke still doesn't move.
"LUKE YOU FUCKING GHOSTY SHIT WAKE THE FUCK UP," Michael yells in his ear.
Luke yelps and leaps up like a fish, whacking his head on the headboard as he does so. Michael chokes on his laughter and Luke scowls, watching him.
"Lucky for you stuff like that doesn't hurt anymore," Luke huffs.
Michael snickers and looks at him. "Come on, I want pancakes."
"Ooh, I love pancakes!" Luke's whole face brightens at the idea but it falls short and he looks confused. He puts a hand over his chest and screws his face up.
Michael looks at him, an are you okay? manner.
Luke's face gets tighter and he says "go start them, I'll be down in a bit."
"Are you sure?" Michael asks, observing Luke with worried eyes.
Luke nods. "I won't be a minute."
-
It's night when Luke shows his face again. Michael had been lying on his bed, scrolling through the feeds of multiple social networking sites, occasionally huffing a sigh out of his parted lips.
He looks up when Luke materialises beside him. He can't even find it in him to be angry. "Where'd you go?" He asks softly.
Luke looks a mess. He appears hollow, slightly transparent, with his hair a mess and his lips bitten to shreds. "I, er, I was, I don't know how to say it. Summoned?"
"You were summoned?"
Luke nods in confirmation. He takes a shallow breath. "They wanted to talk to me."
Michael doesn't know who 'they' are, but he nods, moves closer to Luke and places his hand on top of his.
"I'm ready to uh, go, apparently," he says, a sad smile on his little mouth.
"Oh," Michael says. He doesn't know how to feel. This is good right? Luke can go and actually be dead, and see his parents again and everything. But that means leaving, and Michael never seeing him again.
Luke nods and Michael asks "so erm, what was it that made you ready to go?"
"When I was alive," Luke looks up at Michael and takes a deep breath, Michael can see tears glistening in his eyes and he panics, and shit his heart pretty much snaps in two when Luke looks him dead in the face and says "I never fell in love."
Michael doesn't say anything, just stares at Luke, he's broken and flickering and eventually says "I've got to go Mikey," and that's when Michael starts crying.
Luke jumps up and pulls Michael with him, into a tight hug that allows Michael's tears to fall straight through him and onto the carpet they're standing on. He's starting to feel him less and less the longer they stand there and soon Luke pulls away, presses one last soft kiss to Michael's lips and gives him a sad smile.
"I'll miss you," he mouths and then he's gone.
Michael stands looking at where Luke was standing for ages, eventually he murmurs "I'll miss you too," then crawls up into his bed and let's himself be swallowed by his sheets that don't even smell of Luke's skin.