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bbreaddog · 1 month

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It’s the morning after a wild New Year’s Eve party and there are quite a few regrets. . . .writer's choice for characters! ^_^

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Thanks for your one-and-a-bit-years’ long patience on this 😩 I’m so excited to finally, FINALLY share this with you!!

(Prompt from this post. Thanks @noworneverphantom and @1mnobodywhoareyou for beta-ing)

AND NOW, THE FIC (M rating, 2.1k words):

Anyone who thinks having your ears assaulted with the incessant blaring of a dawn break alarm is a great way to start the day is a damn liar.

He slaps his hand over the bedside table blindly until he finally hits the offending object. The noise stops. He flops over onto his stomach.

It’s 7am, January 1st. Fantastic information for someone who actually cares. Not him, though.

His body, however, does. Five hours is not nearly enough to… Well, five hours is not enough. Celebratory drinks on New Year’s Eve can be fun! He just forgets about the part where he has to wake up with the consequences.

He yawns, jaw aching with the stretch, and ribs protesting with the expansion of his breath. Something twitches under his palm. It kinda tickles. He sniffs.

A moment passes. There’s another twitch, then a quiet squeak.

Oh, Reggie thinks. He should probably move in case it’s a rat or something. But lifting his arm suddenly feels like lifting a boulder that’s been superglued to the ground. He sighs. It would be so easy to give up right now.

So he does.

It’s not a big deal. He could probably handle having a little rat friend. Besides, rats are cute. And if his parents didn’t let him have a hamster back in high school—well, now he can have–

An annoyed grumble. Reggie screws up his face. That’s a loud fucking rat, probably one that won’t be much fun to take care of, actually.

So Reggie, still half-asleep and hungover to all hell, makes a decision that any other responsible adult in his situation would make:

He’s going to grab the little guy.

Reggie’s fingers slowly draw in. His eyebrows furrow. It’s something smooth, and a little more triangular than the rat-shape he was expecting. Not that he’s one to body shame.

Experimentally, he squishes it.

There’s a splutter, then–

“Ow!” Reggie whines when his hand gets slapped away.

“Dude, what the hell?”

Reggie’s eyes snap open, sunlight stinging before he can smack a hand over them. “What the hell?” he parrots.

“Lemme breathe.”

“Okay,” Reggie croaks, a little hysterically. “Yeah, sure. W-what are you doing in my bed, though?”

From the other side, Luke snorts. “S’my bed, dude.”

No, it’s not, Reggie wants to say. Because that would be stupid. Being in Luke’s bed would be stupid. Reggie knows that, and Luke has to know that. They’re in a band together! A band where they’d all agreed to never shoot their shot within the group.

More specifically, Reggie had promised both Julie and Alex separately that he won’t get caught up in his long-standing crush on Luke, and that he definitely won’t end up in Luke’s bed. It’s too risky.

So this can’t be Luke’s bed, Reggie thinks, because then we would be in big trouble.

There’s some shuffling beside him, followed by a deep sigh. Reggie peeks through the gap between his fingers. Luke’s eyes are closed, the crease of his brow just smoothing out. Reggie watches Luke’s mouth soften, lips parting slightly, his breaths returning to slow waves. He looks so peaceful.

Just as the thought occurs, Reggie huffs out a small laugh. “Thought you were a rat,” he murmurs.

Luke doesn’t reply. Reggie shuts his eyes again.

So maybe he’s thought about this before, waking up next to Luke all soft and rumpled. Maybe it’s a daydream he likes to revisit regularly. So what? Sue him. It’s not like he’d say no given the chance.

Besides, he seems to recall only saying that he won’t end up in Luke’s bed, so… yeah. He just has to verify that he’s in his own bed, and they’ll be fine. Probably.

Reggie rolls over gingerly, cracking open an eyelid to squint through the bright morning haze. It’s hard to tell whose room it is at a glance when the layouts are so similar:

There’s a wooden desk shoved into a corner at the other end of the room, the chair pulled out to accommodate the mountain of clothes dumped on it; an acoustic guitar sits beside the tallboy, occupying the only section of the floor that’s ever seen the light of day. Speaking of light, why is it so fucking bright?

Reggie props himself up with one elbow, then braves a look at the source of light.

Of course, he groans. The blue curtains hanging over the window are, for some godforsaken reason, open—pushed to the sides, allowing the morning sun to flood the room.

Sure! Reggie thinks. That’s not even the worst part about it, so why not? The only thing that could possibly be worse than this is if Julie and Alex were here pointing at the curtains themselves; because the curtains in Reggie's room are red.

“Fuck,” Reggie moans, letting his eyes fall shut.

If there’s one thing Luke’s good at, it’s persuading Reggie to do things. Stupid things that will get them into stupid trouble.

Maybe they could say it was just a sleepover? Nothing had to have happened between them. Just a couple of bros sharing a bed. It’s winter, it’s cold. Saving on heating bills. Something like that. That sounds reasonable enough, yeah?

He looks back at Luke, and yeah, okay. That’s great, actually—Luke’s not wearing a shirt. That’s… fine. Luke’s fine. Like, really fine.

Getting off track. It’s fine! They’ve all seen Luke waltzing around without a shirt before. Hell, even if he was wearing one, half the material would be gone along with the sleeves. So the story could still pass. This is nothing new.

What is new, to Reggie’s horror, is the massive purple bruise blooming on the side of Luke’s neck. Reggie does not squeak. How did he miss that? It’s huge!

Don’t panic, Reggie tells himself, panicking. There could be any number of reasons why there’s a hickey the size of a golf ball on Luke’s neck. Probably just as many as for why they’ve woken up in the same bed.

Reggie can think of exactly one.

Alex is gonna be so mad. Julie is gonna be so mad.

He swallows. It’s fine, he tells himself, like it’ll be real if he keeps saying it. Maybe this could be salvageable somehow. If they’re sticking with the sleepover thing (which he’ll talk to Luke about… probably), then he should check that they’re wearing clothes. That would make it more plausible. Hopefully.

The back of his neck prickles with sweat, and he suddenly wishes the thought never occurred to him. Now he can’t stop thinking about Luke laying beside him, naked. He can’t stop thinking about Luke seeing him naked. Reggie bites his lip. This is a bad idea. Maybe he can just roll over and go back to sleep and he’ll wake up from this dream.

Except, Reggie has never been one to deny his curiosity, even if it does trap the rat, or however the saying goes. He inhales sharply.

Careful not to disturb Luke, Reggie slowly lifts up the edge of the covers. He takes in a quiet breath and, before he can psyche himself out, leans down to take a peek.

He slaps a hand over his mouth.

We’re gonna die, Reggie thinks, heart pounding in his chest. Alex and Julie are gonna kill us, and we’re gonna die.

“Luke,” Reggie says, nudging him with the back of his hand. “Luke. Luke.”

“What?”

Reggie bites his lip. He has to be smart about this. Although he doesn’t know how smart he can be with this headache swooping back in. “Do you, uh, usually sleep naked?”

Luke snorts. Reggie’s face heats up. “Yeah,” Luke says.

Reggie’s pulse quickens. “So this is normal?”

“Yeah,” Luke says again, slower this time, an unreadable look on his face.

“In– in the middle of winter?”

“What are you, my mom?”

Reggie squeaks. “I-I just mean, like– what if– what if someone else is in your bed?”

Luke blinks. His lips curl up into a smirk.

“Well,” he drawls, propping himself up on an elbow. “Seems like you already know the answer to that.”

“I-I mean–” Reggie stammers, cheeks growing hot. “You could’ve at least– put some pants on, or, or… um…” he trails off, watching Luke’s eyes rake down his chest and slowly drag them back up again. When their eyes meet, Luke slips his tongue out to wet his lips. Reggie’s skin prickles.

“Now, why would I want to do that if the clothes are just gonna come right off again?”

Reggie has never claimed to have a strong resolve. They don’t make it out of bed for a while.

———

“What the hell is that?” Alex demands.

Act casual. Be natural.

”Yeah, Reg,” Luke smirks. Reggie’s blood runs cold. “What the hell did you do to me?”

Alex rounds on him. “You did this?”

“Did what?” comes Julie’s voice, and Reggie instinctively scans the studio for cover. Julie stops in the doorway, staring at Luke. “What the hell is that?” she asks, tone measured.

“That’s what I said,” mutters Alex.

Reggie glances at Luke, who’s still proudly parading the massive hickey on his neck like it won’t get them murdered. Reggie resists the urge to put his face in his hands and scream.

Julie looks between Luke’s smug expression and Reggie’s guilty-puppy eyes, and Reggie can pinpoint the exact moment it clicks.

“Oh my god, what did we say about hooking up within the band?!”

“Felt fucking good, though,” Luke says with a sly smile. “Reggie’s mouth–”

“Absolutely not,” Julie cuts in, holding up a hand. “I never, in a billion years, want to hear about what happened between you and Reggie’s mouth. Gross.”

“Yeah,” Alex says, raising a pocketed hand. “Me too.”

Reggie’s face grows hot. Hell could open up a trap door to a thousand spikes underneath him right now and it would suck less.

“I’m gonna need a moment,” Julie announces. “You two–” she points between Luke and Reggie “–behave. I’ll be back.”

Reggie hangs his head, shame creeping up the back of his neck. He hates disappointing people, least of all Julie Molina. Now the fate of his spot in the band, and probably his friendship with Julie, is doomed.

He hazards a glimpse at Luke. He actually looks sorry now that Julie’s out of sight.

Alex sighs and turns to them, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Alright, Alex, go ahead,” Luke grumbles. “We know you’ve got something to say.”

Alex watches them carefully for a beat before opening his mouth. “Okay, I don’t wanna say I told you so–”

“Yes, you do,” Reggie mumbles.

“Yes, I do,” Alex concedes, shutting his eyes for a second. “But I won’t, because I know you know you messed up. Okay, we all agreed this wouldn’t happen. I’ve kept up my end of the deal. Julie’s kept hers…” He trails off, shrugging. He doesn’t need to say it, but Reggie can practically hear it. Why was it so hard for you to do the same?

Reggie looks at Luke, then back to Alex before dropping his gaze. He’s just about to open his mouth to apologise when the door creaks open.

“Okay,” Julie breathes, carefully closing the door behind her and stepping into the space. “Now that I’m over the initial shock of…” She gestures vaguely at Luke and clears her throat. “I’ve given it some thought, and I’ve decided…” She looks between Luke and Reggie, biting her lip nervously. “We can make an exception here,” she says finally.

“Wait, seriously?” Luke and Alex say in unison. They grimace at each other.

Julie stares. “Okay… anyway,” she says. “Yes, I am serious. Just as long as the two of you—Luke and Reggie—can keep it professional when we’re together as a band.”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees. “We don’t want personal stuff to get in the way of how we work, right?”

Reggie could almost cry with relief, wrapping his arms around Julie in a tight hug with an earnest “Thank you!” before releasing her so Luke can do the same.

With the air cleared, they disperse to set up for the day. Luke bumps his hip against Reggie and throws him a wink. Reggie blushes despite himself.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Julie pipes up. “In case it wasn’t clear enough: no hooking up on band time. Got it?”

Reggie straightens up and salutes her. “Yes, ma’am!”

He hears Luke laugh next to him. “You got it, boss,” he says.

Julie rolls her eyes fondly, and returns to setting up her keyboard stand.

Reggie feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns around, and Luke presses a quick kiss to his lips. It happens so swiftly that Reggie is left stunned; he stares wide-eyed after Luke, who’s already making his way toward his mic.

Somewhere behind him, Reggie hears Alex mutter, “Why do I have to be here?”

#jatp #jatp fic #luke patterson #reggie peters #peterpatter #ruke #ask #jmrothwell #new year prompts #writing prompts #i write things #mine #FUCK. the relief is so great. you’ve no idea #I’m so happy i finally get to share this AHHHH #i hope i made it worth the wait

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