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Luke’s having a panic attack in his bathroom. He’s a grown man and he shouldn’t be, but here he is. Luke has felt off-kilter all morning, feels too big and too loud, like he’s taking up all the space in their house without meaning to. He’d woken up just feeling wrong in his own body, attempted to go downstairs for breakfast and found that the thought of food made him nauseous. He tried to eat breakfast this morning, but he’d almost lost it, looking at the omelet Ashton made, hands shaking, brain telling him that he doesn’t need to eat, not when he feels like this, not when his body just feels wrong. He couldn’t stomach eating anything, kept gagging just thinking about food. He’d gotten into an argument with Ashton about it, snapping when Ashton had told him to eat something. It had turned into some stupid fight about Luke’s habits and Ashton’s need to be in control and had ended in Luke grabbing his coffee mug and storming back to their bedroom. It’s mid-morning now and Luke feels shaky and hungry, but his brain isn’t cooperating with him, stuck on an anxiety loop about his fight with Ashton that he’s only made worse by going into the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror.
Luke made the stupid decision to get on the scale they have in the bathroom (he’s not even sure why they have one) and he’s freaking out because he saw the number. Granted, Luke doesn’t feel any different. His body looks the same, his clothing fits the same, he feels fine, but the scale’s told Luke that he’s gained some weight. Luke also logically knows that it’s the holiday season and he’s been home in LA more and also in Australia, so his diet’s been off and he shouldn’t be freaking out about it, but he is. He’s standing in his bathroom freaking out because his brain doesn’t know how to handle things, anxiety taking over, trapping him in it’s cycle. It’s not even a lot of weight, but it’s enough that Luke’s spiraling a bit, hyper aware of it now, sitting on the bathroom floor trying to remind himself to breathe, scared that if he stands up and sees himself in the mirror he’ll start really panicking.
It’s stupid that Luke’s brain is like this. It’s been like this since he was young, right when they had started getting famous, pushed more into the public eye. He’s always felt so scrutinized, everyone’s focus on him and how he looked, how he acted. It had gotten worse when he’d suddenly gotten taller, broader, looking more like he does now. He’s always felt pressure to look a certain way, act a certain way, be a certain way. He’s always been hyper aware of how he looks, the image he’s portraying. It’s gotten a little better recently, the freedom of being able to express himself with makeup, jewelry, lingerie and dresses, Ashton’s constant love and support, putting him more at ease, making him more comfortable with his body.
Luke’s been in Australia for a few weeks though, unable to do any of those things. He’s enjoyed being home, getting to do wedding plans, spending time with his family and Ashton’s family. He knows he’s been on edge for awhile, taken out of his routine, and making the stupid decision to get on the scale was really just the tipping point. Luke takes a seat on the floor, back to the tub, knowing that if he stands any longer, staring at himself in the mirror, he’s going to end up on his knees throwing up like he did when he was a teenager, stressed and anxious.
Luke takes a few shallow breaths, trying to count to ten, feeling the cold of the bathtub at his back, trying to ground himself before he slips too far. He knows this is really just one part of the whole problem too. Having to wear nothing but his more masculine clothing back home with his parents has put him into a strange headspace. Even when he’s on tour, Luke still has some freedom in what he wears off stage, what he puts on under his clothing. He doesn’t get that when he goes to see his parents.
Luke put on his favorite part of panties this morning, soft pink cotton with little stars on them, after wearing nothing but his boxer briefs during the trip, and all he can focus on is how big he feels. He feels too large, too masculine, too much to be wearing them now. He feels itchy and uncomfortable, stretched too thin, out of place. Luke hates feeling like this, not feeling at home in his body. It sucks because he’s gotten comfortable over the last few months wearing his dresses and skirts and lingerie in public, painting his face and being free, being himself when he’s out doing things. He’s just gotten comfortable being able to express himself outside of his home and now he’s back to where he was ages ago, feeling like even the panties are too much, not right on his already large frame.
Luke’s trying to will himself not to cry, shoulders shaking slightly, head against the lip of the tub, when he hears Ashton calling his name. Luke doesn’t trust himself to answer, still hoping that he can hold it together long enough that by the time Ashton finds him, he’ll be okay. Ashton’s voice gets closer, until Luke can hear him outside the bathroom door, knocking on it lightly. Luke takes a couple deep breaths, shoulders shaking slightly with the effort of it.
“Luke, are you in there?”
“Yeah,” Luke says, startled by how broken he sounds.
“Do you want me to come in?” Ashton asks, tentative. It’s something they started back when Luke was living with Ashton the first time around, when the world was too much and he was close to breaking. Ashton put the choice into Luke’s hands, not asking Luke if he could come in, but asking Luke what he wanted. Giving Luke the power to decide how much or how little he wanted Ashton involved. Luke has never once turned Ashton away, desperately needs Ashton as his rock, his grounding presence, but Luke’s always been grateful for the choice Ashton gives him every time.
Luke considers it now, turning Ashton away. He doesn’t want Ashton to see him like this, but the thought of being without Ashton makes his chest tight and his throat close up. Luke just wants someone to hold him. Luke lets out a strangled sound, managing a choked out yes when Ashton asks the question again, concern and alarm clear in his voice. Ashton pushes the door open, making a sad noise in his throat when he sees Luke on the floor, kneeling down and wrapping Luke up in his arms, holding him close while Luke wraps his arms around Ashton, tears suddenly coming, streaming down his face.
“Oh sweetheart,” Ashton says, pushing Luke’s curls back and kissing his temple. Luke hiccups, sniffling around his tears. He lets Luke keep crying, body shaking as Luke tries to regain control of himself. Eventually he runs out of tears, sniffling slightly. Luke feels a little more aware of himself, but the out of body experience is still there, the feeling of it being not quite right hanging over him.
“Do you want to talk about it or do you want to cry about it and let me hold you?” Ashton asks, when Luke’s hiccups have calmed down.
“I don’t know. I just...I woke up feeling wrong and overwhelmed and I can’t breathe now. I can’t stop thinking about how I look, how I feel. My brain won’t stop telling me I’m too big, too much, that I’m a burden and a bother and I just want to stop feeling like this,” Luke says, pressing his face into Ashton’s shoulder, letting Ashton run his hands through his curls.
“Why do you feel like this? You haven’t talked about this since the first lingerie set you bought.”
“We went home. We stopped touring and we stayed home and I got comfortable. I got comfortable going out in public in dresses and skirts and wearing the lingerie under my clothing and no one caring. We go out to restaurants and local places and no one bats an eye, no one thinks I’m Luke Hemmings in a dress, they just see me . And then we went home and I just...I felt like I had to put myself back in a box for my parents. I’m just uncomfortable in my own body now, like everything I’m doing is wrong. I didn’t feel right back home, but it’s like being in that mindset for a few weeks has just made me feel out of place here now. And I made the stupid choice to get on the scale and now I just don’t feel right Ash and I hate it and I hate that I’m crying about this,” Luke rushes out in one breath. He feels Ashton’s hand pause, hears Ashton hum quietly, before he starts his movement again.
“Luke, you’ve never too much, you’re never a burden. I know it’s hard for you to understand that when your brain doesn’t want you to, but I love you. You can never be too much for me. You’re beautiful and wonderful.”
“Even when I’m like this?”
“Like what?”
“Miserable. Angsty. I can’t get out of my head and I feel so itchy in my own skin and I only feel comfortable sitting here in my underwear, but now I can’t even think of it as my underwear because I couldn’t wear it for weeks. I just...I wish I was different. I wish I didn’t feel like this. I wish I was comfortable in my body, I wish I could be a better partner, I wish I was just...better.”
“Luke, I don’t want you any other way. This is you, this is who you are. All your good parts and bad parts, the perfect bits and all of the flaws you see in yourself. They make you who you are. They make you beautiful. And you love me, even when I’m locking myself away for hours or when I’m depressed, when I was binge drinking all the time and when you had to handle me getting sober. That’s what being in love is, all the good parts and the bad parts and the in between parts,” Ashton says. He tilts Luke’s head up, smoothing back a curl and pressing a soft kiss to Luke’s forehead. Luke sighs, leaning into it, closing his eyes. He still feels itchy and stretched to thin, but it feels nice, knowing Ashton’s here for him, that Ashton loves him.
“Promise?”
“I promise. I love you, all of you.”
Luke nods, leaning into Ashton, matching his breathing to Ashton’s until he feels calmer, more centered.
Eventually, he feels Ashton shift, straightening his legs out, Luke shifts too, tilting his head up to look at Ashton.
“Thank you.”
“I love you, Luke. You’re welcome. Now, do you want food? Water? Cuddles?”
“Can we have a snack in bed? Watch a movie?”
“Of course darling,” Ashton says, smiling softly, pressing a kiss to Luke’s forehead pulling him to his feet, leading him back to bed. Luke gets comfortable while Ashton goes back downstairs, getting popcorn and water, letting Luke set up something for them to watch. Luke gets under the covers, curling up, grabbing Petunia when she ventures into the bedroom and cuddling with her until Ashton gets in. He curls up at Luke’s side, letting Luke put his head in his lap, playing with Luke’s curls. Luke still doesn’t feel quite right, still feels stretched too thin, but he feels better now, softer. Knowing that Ashton loves him, cares for him, even when Luke’s being irrational and scared and unhappy, makes Luke feel better. It reminds Luke that this is what love feels like. This is what their love feels like.