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easier-5sos · 5 years

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Okay so there's this video (if you look up 'ghost of you luke crying' on youtube its the first one) of them performing ghost of you and Luke looks ROUGH. Like he's kinda shaking and he's all sweaty and pale looking, which is probably just the lights and stuff, but he looks nervous or like something's wrong. So could you write something about that? Like he has to perform with a fever or something?

heLLO!! He cried during Lie To Me at my MYT concert- highkey I wanted to jump on stage and hug my poor baby :((

(this has some comedy to it, which I thought was fuckin hilarious dONT JUDGE ME I HAVE A SHITTY SENSE OF HUMOUR LMAO)

Luke woke up in the hotel bed feeling rough- rougher than he had the day before. It was pretty cold in Sweden the last few days, and the band had been travelling in Europe during the colder months to perform their shows for the Meet You There tour. He sniffled his nose, rubbing it against the backs of his hands to hopefully clear them so he could breathe easier.

It was no hope.

He huffed out in annoyance, rolling round to face your sleeping body in the bed beside him- jealous that you could sleep easy, and he didn’t have a chance.

When it came to being sick, Luke was a wimp and you knew it. He was a baby when taking his medicine- always complaining that the taste made him feel worse, even if it did end up making him better; the poor boy cried when he threw up, tears running down his pale face; and he always wanted to cuddle you, even if what he had was contagious.

Finally, after a few more minutes of Luke sulking, feeling sorry for himself, and huffing angrily at the fact that he couldn’t breathe too well, he sneezed right in your face. You jolted awake, rubbing your tired eyes as Luke’s own blue ones apologetically looked toward you.

“Thanks…” You grumbled, pressing your face into the pillows to wipe away the snot and spit that landed there- it was a rude awakening.

Luke pouted, “I can’t help it! I think I have a cold…”

You nodded in agreement, reaching your hand up toward his forehead to check his temperature- to your surprise, he was hotter than the sex you both had a few days ago.

“Maybe a fever, bubs” You pointed out.

Luke whimpered, running a hand through his golden halo of curls. He was due to perform later in the evening, but performing whilst sick was a hassle he hated dealing with, especially since no one would let him take a day off. The managers had had enough of Luke complaining recently, especially when it came to something Luke wasn’t too happy with- you found it rather rude that management never took what Luke said on board, especially given he was the lead singer of the band.

A few hours later, and Luke’s fever had gotten much worse. He was sweating, dampening the golden curls that framed his face; his nose was red, even though it looked cute like that; and Luke wouldn’t stop complaining that he didn’t feel great, which the mangers were getting sick of.

“Baby…” Luke complained, arms wrapped around your own as you all but struggled to walk down the halls of the venue, “I don’t feel good…”

“I know bubs- you’ve told me so many times today. But you’ve got to. Management can’t afford to replace the date this late” You softly smiled toward him, knowing how Luke hated being sick, especially when he was due to perform for a few hours in the evening.

To accomodate Luke being sick, you took over the stylists and make-up artists job- since they didn’t want to catch whatever Luke had, and hearing him complain was driving almost everyone away from him, he was basically a gigantic baby.

You’d found the lightest shirt Luke owned- one that covered everything he wanted to cover, yet was still light enough for someone running a fever to wear- which happened to be his almost sheer leopard print shirt; you forced him to put on pants that unfortunately didn’t match anything, however the flare at the bottom would keep his legs cool; and his boots without the heel, so Luke wouldn’t somehow fall over and sprain his ankle because of his shoe choice. In all fairness, you were pretty proud with the outcome of the outfit, tying it all together with a nice belt that adorned a large silver buckle in the middle- it was very Luke.

Next, you tried your hardest to make Luke look more alive- as his skin was deathly pale, his nose was red, and his cheeks were tinted pink. You sat on the counter in the dressing room, Luke sitting on a chair between your legs, his sweaty hands on your thighs in a deathly grip he wasn’t willing to let go of. Letting the inner make-up artist inside you flourish- from watching all the beauty gurus on YouTube, and deeming yourself worthy of being a beauty guru- you dashed on some glittery pink eyeshadow to Luke’s eyelids, however highlighter wasn’t needed as he was already sweating so much from the fever.

You watched as Luke’s eyes grew heavy, blissfully falling asleep as you tried your hardest to pat his forehead down- his skin was burning, and the usual excited glint in his diamond blue eyes was gone, which was a telltale sign that Luke was well and truly sick.

In the back of your mind, you worried that Luke would collapse on stage during a song, maybe because he didn’t drink enough water to begin with, or because he was exhausted from the fever- and you hoped it wouldn’t happen.

Luke slowly sat up from the chair, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as he gave you a weak smile. You were tempted to storm down to the tour managers and complain that Luke wasn’t fit to perform- however you knew they wouldn’t listen to you, you were just dating the lead singer, no big deal.

Slowly, the sick, lanky blonde made his way to where the rest of his band was situated, waiting for the signal to get on stage. He didn’t look great.

“Luke, what’s up man? Are you good?” Ashton inquired, tapping out a beat on the wall with his drumsticks.

Luke shook his head, wiping at his forehead again.

“Personally, I think he shouldn’t perform.” You butted in.

“Yeah- he doesn’t look at all lively” Calum pointed out, nodding in agreement.

Michael nodded too, “We should go talk to someone”

“They won’t listen. We tried this morning, but Luke’s fever got worse.” You sighed in annoyance.

Calum rolled his eyes, “Of course they didn’t.”

“Listen, I’ll get more water bottles from the dressing room, but can someone continue to remind Luke to keep his liquids up?” You raised an eyebrow toward the band, as they all hummed an agreement.

Luke whimpered, arms wrapping around one of yours once again, “Y/N I wanna go home…” nuzzling his face into your neck.

“I know bubs, I know- but you can’t. Fuckin’ management won’t let you.” You grumbled, getting tired of how management was pushing these boys to the extreme.

In under ten minutes, the band was out on stage- with Luke flopping around the place, a small smile on his lips as he tried his hardest to keep up with everything else around him. Lucky, no one had noticed his lack of enthusiasm just yet- as the first break rolled around. You’d managed to let the managers give the band a few more breaks than usual, as they’d noticed the lack of fire in Luke’s performance.

Luke immediately made a B-Line for you, almost collapsing his entire body onto yours the second his skin made contact with your own. You stumbled backward, falling onto a chair that was luckily behind you.

“You alright bubs?” You asked, hand soothing his wild curls.

Luke shook his head, “I can’t do it…”

“You’re doing amazing Lu! I’m so proud of you, okay?” You tried your hardest to give him positive reinforcement, so he’d be more willing to go back on stage- you knew that once Luke got comfortable, he was less likely to get off you again.

Only a few minutes later, he was all but dragged on stage by Michael, who let Luke sit down on the mini stage for Ashton’s drum kit- a water bottle in hand as he forced Luke to drink it.

Another break rolled around, and Luke was looking worse than ever. He stumbled toward you, and you let him collapse on you once again- being prepared by already sitting on the chair.

He whimpered into your ear, “I wanna go home…. Can’t do this…” once again.

“Only two more sets to go bubs, and then we’ll be on our way back to the hotel! You got this!” You smiled, watching as he rubbed his eyes- the eyeshadow going absolutely everywhere, tainting his hands in pink, glittery shadow.

Once again, the band dragged Luke on stage, and he performed at the seat of the piano- a microphone set up so Luke could sing from the comfort of the seat, instead of in front of the entire crowd, so they weren’t able to see how sick he really was. There was sweat trickling down his forehead, pink eyeshadow all around his eyes, and his hair was a mess- but he kept going.

That was, until the last break.

Luke came stumbling toward you, tears picking at his eyes and pink, glittery eyeshadow on almost every possible patch of skin on his face. You knew that this was the last straw for him, as he slouched down on top of you again.

You pulled out all the stops, “I don’t think he’s going to make it. I don’t want him collapsing from exhaustion on stage. I’m taking him back to the hotel.” You all but demanded.

Even though the situation was the opposite of romantic, Ashton made a comment about how much he adored the fact that you cared so much for Luke, as Calum awed- even though you knew Calum, of all people, didn’t believe in love.

Letting Luke slouch against your entire body, you made your way through the backstage hallways, ignoring the managers that shouted at you to give them the lead singer back. You’d have to explain it all in the morning, but for now, they’d have to do without the lead singer- who wasn’t capable of finishing the concert tonight.

Finally, after an hour of arguing with the security guard, who instructed you to take Luke back on stage, and another twenty minutes driving in an Uber to the hotel- you had Luke back in the hotel room. You pulled the sweaty clothes from his body, feeling just how hot his skin had gotten from performing and the fever on top of it all. The eyeshadow was no longer on Luke’s eyes, but all around his face instead, as you lightly chuckled at how much of a toddler Luke looked like. His golden curls were drenched in sweat, as you tied all the curls into a bun- making sure to massage Luke’s head in the process to calm him down, which always worked a treat.

After all that, it didn’t take long for Luke to pass out on the hotel bed, before sneezing in your face one last time- as a thank you, for helping him, you assumed.

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