#5sosfic

Calum and Michael were first. Best friends for as long as they could remember, it was only natural that they were each other’s first everything, sneaking kisses to “practice” when they were thirteen years old, sloppy and messy, giggling and avoiding each other’s eyes afterwards, only to immediately come back together. The subsequent sexuality crisis to come for both, pulled out of it by the other with a firm grip and returns of whispered “you’re okay I’m your best friend I’m not going anywhere” echoed between them both under the covers on wobbly nights, tilted and hazy with worry. Michael had been first, slightly more assured of his own self and older in most ways, but Calum had followed not too far behind, as was the case in pretty much all their experiences.

Over the years fumbling kisses turned to more, clumsy and hurried in their rooms at sleepovers; muffling themselves on each other's lips as they learnt themselves and each other, the feeling of safety and support that only the other could bring. And that was that. They were best friends, more than friends, more than boyfriends, more than lovers. But also none of that. Just Michael and Calum. And whenever they strayed with other people, they always found themselves back together, like a piece of elastic wrapped around their wrists, stretching and pulling away only to snap back together as soon as the strain got too much, yanked towards each other to find comfort and solace.

Luke came along a bit later as with the band. Calum reached out to him when he was alone and friendless, sharing kind words in music class and giving him smiles freely which took him off guard when in the rest of his life he felt like he’d always had to pay for kindness, to be expected to give something in return. He antagonised Michael at first with his closeness to Calum, the way he connected with him was something Michael had only seen Calum have with himself before and he felt jealous towards the other boy as a only a fifteen year old can. He felt as if Luke was going to rip Calum away from him for himself, tie the two of them together with his own string and leave Michael out of it, untethered and floating. But Luke didn’t pull, he came towards them, looped them both into his friendship with his shy smile and soft voice and then it was the three of them like it never hadn’t been.

It happened between Luke and Calum next. Luke knew that Michael and Calum were something more than platonic, but then he always felt that they were all something a little bit more than platonic, a feeling running deeper even if it hadn’t resulted in a physical act. Calum and Luke spent most of the first two years of their touring out every night, drinking and living the biggest possible lives they could, dragging whoever back to their bedrooms when they felt like it. It was one night when a drunken thought of “wouldn’t it be easier if we just kissed each other” that neither of them can remember who suggested, which led to Calum and Luke, Luke on his knees in a club bathroom and then a night spent in their hotel room which fortunately the two of them were already sharing.

It had gotten a little bit messy then, the string tangling with Michael’s elastic, the lines impossible to follow as they snarled and caught each other. Michael trying to pull himself away when he found out, the jealousy bubbling up inside him like the first time Luke came into their lives, hot and unpleasant and threatening to boil over. One night when the tension had almost gotten too much for them all, when Michael had closed his bunk curtain to hide away from the world, Luke stormed through the bus, ripping open the curtain and landing his lips on Michael’s. Michael made a soft noise of surprise and froze for a second, before slowly kissing Luke back, and Luke smiled into Michael’s mouth and all of a sudden it was Luke and Michael. The years of the two of them touching whenever possible, of Luke putting himself into Michael’s lap and Michael lying on him at any opportunity finally coming to a head. And it made sense again, untangled and smoothed out into a carefully interlinked braid. Michael and Calum. Calum and Luke. Luke and Michael. And around again.

Ashton was last, technically, although he had always actually been there, a link so tiny but strong nonetheless. A moment of a kind word to help a fumbling Luke in the face of his bullies being a moment that Luke never had forgotten, the only other moment apart from Calum’s offer of friendship that had truly stayed in his mind that reminded him that people were good. A moment at a party like any other where he’d bumped into Michael and they’d only spoken briefly, but enough to keep the loud and excited boy with the long fringe on his mind, long after the beer he’d spilt on Ashton had been washed away. He’d been pulled into the band with no look back or confusion, like he’d always been there, from the moment Calum got down on one knee and proposed his part in it all.

And maybe it was unexpected for Ashton to be part of whatever it was that went on between the three of them. But also it wasn’t, because he’d been there the whole time. He’d linked himself to Calum when they went to Hawaii together, days hiking and exploring melting away into lazy kisses over room service that took them both by surprise but not really at all, the two of them becoming Calum and Ashton, entangled on an impulse vacation being the only thing that made sense. With Michael it was another thing entirely, Ashton wrapping around the other man in moments to protect him from the whirlwind that they were growing up in, diverting attention from questions that Michael didn’t have it in him to answer, and the understanding that the two of them were so opposite but also the perfect reflection of each other. A kiss turning into more after long days of interviews cemented Michael and Ashton. Luke moving in with Ashton when everything had gotten too much turned out to be the final missing loop, the two of them rebuilding themselves, winding around each other to haul themselves above the deep and dark swirling water they’d found themselves in, to stop themselves from drowning. Nights spent sharing the same bed meaning they were just a little bit more Ashton and Luke than what they were before.

----

She vaguely remembered him from that last work event. He was easily recognizable by his dark curly hair, tanned skin, and youthful appearance, especially since the vast majority of others mingling looked to be in their late 30s. Rose caught drifts of conversations about sales and pitches and various public relations-related stuff. She had caught him looking over at her during one of the speeches. When she met his gaze he'd turned away.

"Who's that?" she asked, tugging lightly on Nina's arm. Nina was in the middle of rambling about some publication technique to boost online views.

"Oh, him? That's Calum. He's a member of one of the newer bands the company's signed. Seems decent, haven't really had a chance to chat with him yet."

Calum.

She never got the guts to go over and talk to him that night, even though he looked like one of the only people who was actually having a decent time, chatting animatedly with an equally tall guy around his age, drink in hand. Instead, she stayed by Nina's side, letting her talkative friend fill the silence and introduce her to many people whose names she would inevitably forget.

---

It was two weeks later, and Nina had caught Rose off guard yet again, getting her to agree to another one of her work parties before Rose even really knew what she was saying yes to. The term ‘party’ was an exaggeration, to say the least. Only the watered-down drinks and the 70s hits playing at a whisper in the background gave the faintest suggestion that this was a party. Rather, it was a way for people at Nina’s company to schmooze with those from other nearby labels and PR companies, collaborating on techniques, getting insider information on new signings and album releases. And Nina was so thrilled at the prospect of sharing her knowledge and making new friends, that Rose felt obligated to say yes. However, not knowing a thing about the music industry or public relations made it difficult to relate to any of the conversations, so she often found herself glued to Nina’s side, maintaining an appropriate amount of nods and smiles to the people Nina talked to, waiting for the agonizingly slow clock to tick down. She sharply reminded herself to not give in to Nina’s pleas again, that this would be the last time she would let her Friday nights turn out like this.

Letting her thoughts wander, she remembered catching a vague glimpse of the dark-haired man earlier on in the night, but she hadn't seen him at all in the past half-hour, and figured he'd gone home. She wished she could leave too, but sadly Nina was her ride, which meant she'd be here for a while longer. By this time Rose was frankly sick of Nina's incessant chatter, and with feigning enjoyment in meeting random people she truly had no interest in.

She politely excused herself from the conversation, and made her way towards the kitchen, in the hopes she could scrounge up another drink to get her through the night. Taking a look around the kitchen, she let out a small sigh when she didn't see any alcohol. However, her eyes landed on the same curly-haired man from earlier. So this was where he'd been hiding out. His cheeks flushed a vague tinge of pink at seeing he'd been discovered, but he let out a relieved breath when he saw that it was her. One of the only other people here around his age, who didn't seem like she'd want to chatter endlessly about the management side of music.

"Hey, I remember you." He stood facing her, a gentle smile on his face. "Calum," he introduced, taking a hand out of his pocket and extending it towards her.

"Rose," she replied, lips curving into a smile as she shook his hand, his larger one temporarily enveloping hers.

"Nice to meet you," he nodded. "Do you work here?" He was sure if he'd seen her before that he would have remembered.

"No, I'm actually a struggling arts major," she confessed with a small chuckle. "My friend dragged me here. Nina."

"Oh," Calum nodded, eyes flashing lightly in recognition of a name he couldn't quite place. "The really… social one?" He asked hesitantly towards the end, unsure exactly how to phrase it.

"Yeah, you can’t miss her,” Rose said, giving her head a small shake in amusement. She felt a sense of relief as Calum's light chuckle flooded her ears.

"So I'm kind of hiding out here right now," he began, looking past her for a second to the crowd of people mingling past the doorway, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as he confirmed none of the guests were interested in pulling him into another conversation.

She chuckled lightly, moving to place her empty glass near the sink. "Do you come to these kinds of things often?"

"Not really," he shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. "But the label wanted me to make an appearance. Somehow I keep drawing the short end of the stick this month for that kind of stuff."

She laughed, glad she didn't have to pretend this was an enjoyable party.

"It's kinda.. stuffy?" he added, nose scrunching at the word.

She nodded in complete understanding. "Yeah. A lot of middle-aged record and publication people. Not exactly my crowd either."

"Tell me about it," Calum sighed, taking a long sip of his fruity drink. "And this was all I could find," he added half-heartedly, raising the glass.

She chuckled, trying to muffle her amusement at the strange drink that didn't seem to quite fit with his look. The vividly coloured mini umbrella and bright purple liquid contrasted sharply with the metal rings that adorned his tanned fingers and the tattoos peeking out from his shirt collar.

Noting her amusement with his drink of choice, his eyes began to light up, and he chuckled along with her.

"I figured," she said, fighting to contain her smile. This only served to make him more amused, a full-blown laugh bubbling out from his full, pink lips. His laugh seemed too pure, too alive for this subdued party.

They stood in silence for a couple beats, letting the low buzz from the various people in the room flood their ears again, before Calum drained the rest of his drink in a gulp. "Did you wanna get out of here?" He asked, setting his empty glass down on the counter beside hers, gesturing vaguely to the direction of the front door.

"Oh!" She wasn't able to mask her surprise, eyebrows rising and a faintly amused but apologetic look on her face. "Wow, um… I think you're great, I really do, but that's just not quite something that I'm-"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion at her response. He tilted his head slightly to one side, lips parted, as he tried to figure her out. Eventually his lips curved into a smile and a gentle laugh erupted from his mouth as he realized where she was going with this. "Shit, I meant food. My bad."

And then she was blushing profusely, wanting to melt into the floor in embarrassment because how could she fuck that up? She sighed, letting out a small whine of contempt, and when she finally got the courage to look back up at him, he was watching her, eyes sparkling. He dragged his bottom lip between his teeth, trying half-heartedly to contain the smile that still graced his face at her expense.

"Yeah, ok." She nodded, letting out a small chuckle. "I can do food."

---

She didn't quite know how she ended up at the fast-food place at 10pm, seated in a tiny booth across from Calum, watching the curly-haired man munching happily away on fries, their knees occasionally knocking against each other.

When he looked at her it was as if he was looking into her. His dark curls cascaded over his forehead, a hint of stubble on his jaw. His eyes were soft and dark brown. They crinkled around the edges when he laughed and they felt like home. It was weird for her, to feel that way with a stranger. But in many ways Calum felt more like an old friend. Like someone she'd known all her life and was just reconnecting with. At this point in the night he was beginning to look tired and sleepy, but just when she thought he was losing interest, his eyes would light up at a funny comment, and it would bring her in closer, creating the most comfortable, at ease feeling deep in her stomach. That night she learned Calum had a wicked dry sense of humour, and that his warm laugh sounded like honey.

They were there for over an hour, long after the remnants of their burgers had gone cold. Only the buzzing of the neon sign in the front window, and the quiet shuffling of the lone staff member were background noise to their conversation.

Eventually they decided to part ways, both tired and content from the night. They put their empty trays in the garbage, and left. Outside they stood only a few steps apart, trying to use each other's bodies to evade the cold wind blowing through the empty parking lot. It was already April in Boston, but some nights still felt like winter.

"Alright," he said, tugging the hood of his jacket over his head so only a few curls poked out. "Get home safe, ok?"

"I will. You too, Calum."

She turned to leave, but his fingertips brushed across the fabric of her jacket. She looked up, the movement garnering her attention. His tongue darted across his bottom lip, brown eyes searching her own.

"We're doing a little show at The Reign next Saturday night. You should come, if you want."

"Yeah I'd love to. I'll be there."

Now, you grow restless. Wanting to do something, go somewhere, see something, taste something new. It doesn’t really matter the specifics. “The new arcade place just opened up near the mall. We can go there.”

Calum nods. There’s no shock that he feels at your suggestion. He sees the twinkle even behind the way you bite down on your lower lip. There it is, the insatiable urge to take on something. “The least I can do is kick your ass in skee ball since you took today off.”

Fixing Calum with a glare, you stand, Duke safely tucked in your arms. “You’re on, Hood.” 

He watches you, feet silent over the concrete as you saunter back into the house. His fingertips don’t ache like they used too. He should’ve run after you, tickled your sides, or pinched your ass and made you laugh. But instead, he sits, watches you go and wonders if he’s actually going to beat you or not. He wonders if his skills can handle his own trash talk. It wouldn’t hurt his pride if his skills were lackluster. 

In the car, he lets you control the radio. You fiddle for a moment before your phone connects and softly through his speaker he hears an old school funky bassline. You watch the cut of Calum’s jaw and the way he reclines into the driver seat. The sight makes your chest warm but you wonder if Calum really wants to go to the arcade. You worry he’s only going because you want to go, because you can’t sit still. Would he ever grow tired of you? Would he ever try to tie you down, make you into something that you weren’t? 

It would wear him thin eventually, you figured. He had a much slower pace that he liked to consume life at. You chalk it up to the fact that he’s life can be so jammed packed for months if not a year at a time with touring that when he can get a moment to relax, he savors it like children and ice cream before dinner. You didn’t truly think he would try to make you into something you’re not. Though the thought and worry never fully escapes you. It seems like no one would ever fully escape their fears, just enough to let the delusion settle in. Everyone would escape just enough to let their hair down and not look over their shoulder at every moment, just every once and awhile. 

In bright red and pink neon lights, Arcadeocity blinks in front of them. Calum pulls into a parking spot. It’s not terribly business given it’s the middle of the week and the summer hasn’t officially hit just yet. “Ready to get your ass kicked?” he teases, one hand guiding the seatbelt as it slides back against the inner frame. 

“The question is are you ready to pay for drinks after I kick your ass?”

“I was born ready.”

Inside, it’s dim and there are some kids running about. But it’s quiet. Calum heads to the counter, gathering the quarters. You look over, seeing the racing games, the ones where you sit and the ones with the bikes. A machine goes off, lots of buzzing and high zings. You look over to see one of the machines lighting up, the conditioned response for any winner. Two small boys are cheering, arms raising above their heads as the machine spits out the tickets in return. 

There are tables off to the sides, for parents to sit, sip at their drinks and pray their children can keep occupied enough to not worry them for a small blimp of time. Though their gazes never leave their children for too long. One mother raises her hand, calling out the child’s name. “You’re going too far.”

“Oh, it’s not going to hurt them,” the father counters. “You remember the code right?” he calls outs. 

You spot the small child, dressed in blue overalls and high top sneakers. “I remember Dad.” They’re no older than eight or so, you figure. 

He waves them on. “Go head. Just make sure to check in after every game, alright?” 

The child nods, a grin on their face. “Thanks, Dad!” 

“Should we work our way up to the main event?” Calum asks, rejoining you now. His pockets jiggle a little. 

You turn your attention to him, thinking for the slightest moment that Calum would be that kind of dad, if he ever wanted to be. That would let his kid go and be free. But the second they needed him he’d swoop in. That’s what he did. Calum kind of swooped in it seemed to be his MO especially since that’s how the two of you met. You’d be lying if you said otherwise. You hadn’t even seen him in the aisle, preoccupied with trying to avoid the kids that had just cut the corner. You stumbled, managing to avoid them and right when you thought you’d wind up smacking into the shelves holding up rice and pasta, strong arms wound around your arm to keep your balance. 

“Racing game first?”

He nods. The dimness cut by the lights and glitz of the games, his eyes look like blackholes. Or maybe more like tunnels with a light at the end of them with the shiny reflection right in the middle of his pupil. 

Calum wins the first race and nearly beats you for third in the second race. As you both slip off the motorcycles, you collect the tickets from your machines. “I’m better with four wheels,” you laugh.

With a thumb over his shoulder, he grins. “I’ve got a pocket full of change. Prove it, sweets.”

You do. Pulling ahead of Calum in both races. You come in third while he comes in fifth in the first. You manage a dirty fourth place, leaving Calum in seventh. It shouldn’t have been fourth but somehow you landed on a shortcut that saved you from eighth up to fifth. It was a fight for fourth but you managed it as you downshifted into fifth gear in the game and took the straightaway with ease.  

“What the actual hell?” Calum laughs, after seeing you actually using the clutch and stick shift. “I didn’t think any of that actually mattered?”

“Dad taught me how to drive stick shift and now it’s just a habit now, I guess.” 

It’s with a click of his tongue that Calum nods but admits his defeat. The both of you are observing, wondering where to go next. He asks you, if there’s anything that interests you. You could spend hours here, playing every game in sight. But you let him choose. You let him set the pace. Maybe it’s in the hopes that you can keep hold onto Calum for just a little bit longer. “You wanted to come here. I’m sure you’re dying to play something,” he concedes. 

“Let’s shoot some hoops,” you suggest. 

“You don’t--you sure?” It’s a silent nod and a gentle grasp of his wrist before you lead him to the basketball hoops. You two don’t even need to make it a competition. Just for fun. Just something to laugh while you do, attempting to throw him off his rhythm by flattering but never being successful. In the end, you don’t read the red numbers at the screen, just take the tickets it does give you. 

“Skee ball?” he asks, folding his tickets. It seems to go on forever, the end hitting the floor and somehow crawling over it too just a little. 

“Sure. If you’re ready to cry of course.”

Calum’s ears are full of the sounds of the game, taunting them, praising them, lighting up and shouting at every ball that sinks into a hole. But right below that is your laughter, your shriek, “You’re supposed to let me win!”

He has no rebuttal, just a feeling. Something like amusement and a tiny bit of guilt. Like maybe he should be more mindful, like maybe he should be toying more carefully. But at the same time, his chest flutters, when you shove at his shoulder and let out an indignant squawk that turns up into a laugh. He won by 100 points. “Round two?”

“Of fucking course,” you huff. Calum drops the quarters into your upturn palm and you guys feed them into their slots simultaneously. He wins again. 75 points as the lead, which stings less, but still. “It’s just an off day,” you say. There’s a smirk on your face and you can accept the defeat but not without a little bit of stink about it. 

Over the course of an hour, you two play more games, stopping for a quick snack break. At the end, you go up to the counter first, Calum excusing himself for a moment to the restroom. There’s a small stuffed dog hanging on the second most top shelf. His ticket cost is high but after some successful rounds on the racetrack, you manage to squeak just enough to get him.  When Calum returns, you’re standing with your arms behind your back. “You hiding something.” It’s more of a question but it comes out factual. 

“Me? No, never.”

He laughs. At the counter, Calum looks over the possibilities. Part of him knows he should go the extravagant route. He’s done it before, with the stuffed animals and big ticket items. But he spies some alien trinkets instead and grabs two for you. He still has a stack left, so he grabs the small bean bag toy in the shape of a soccer ball. “You’ve still got quite the haul left,” the attendant states. 

“Save ‘em for the next kid.”

“If you’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. They’ll need them more than me.” Before Calum can reach you, you hold the stuff toy in front of your chest. “Very cute.”

“For you.” 

His brow twitches, pulling down like he can’t quite believe it. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” You urge him to take it and swallow down the urge to tell him he can give it to Duke. You want him to know it’s for him. No matter what. You did it for him. 

“Thank you.” Almost sheepishly he exchanges the stuffed toy for alien trinkets. One’s a keychain and you smile. “Perfect for the collection?”

“Of course.” It is perfect. It’s thoughtful. And part of you wants to kick yourself for not getting the inflatable soccer ball, or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Because clearly those are more Calum, those are more thoughtful than just a stuffed animal. Calum makes a show though, buckling the dog into the backseat, after shifting the towel that Duke usually rests on and maybe, it’s not such a bad gift after all. 

It’s in the car as Calum ponders aloud choices for dinner that you asked to be taken back to your place. You do have an early morning and Calum doesn’t think too much of it. It’s not until that gets back home and settles the stuffed dog onto his bed that he remembers the recipe the both of you were going to try. He had gone to the grocery store and everything. It feels wrong to try it without you. He can’t let it go to waste though. 

I’m going to drop you off a plate. That’s the text from him not even ten minutes after he drops you off. You remember all at once the dinner plans. How could you have forgotten that? Truth be told, you had fun. Arcadeocity scratched that itch to get out. But you didn’t want to intrude too much on Calum’s free time. Which, when the hell did that start being a concern? Calum was pretty direct and honest if he needed time to himself. 

Maybe it was just a time thing. You were starting to understand Calum more and even though he would be vocal about needing space, you knew how much he valued it. And you valued your own space too. Truth be told, you were starting to want more of it. Or maybe it was more time to do whatever by yourself. Or maybe the reason really didn’t matter because now, sitting on your own couch, you feel a little less like you’ve been stuffed into a box. 

Calum arrives at your door with a reusable bag full. “I just made the whole recipe and split it in half. You can take it into work tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” 

It’s a quick brush, his lips pressing into the flesh of your forehead. “Of course.” 

___________________

Of course that feeling comes back. When Calum calls and hears the rattle of music in the background, he knows you’re out. It’s the second weekend in a row you’ve walked out on the town. The second weekend in the row you’ve made those plans without really consulting Calum, just going. Not that you thought you’d be out again. But when your coworker mentioned wanting to go out, you didn’t want the opportunity to pass you by. Letting Calum didn’t quite cross your mind either. 

Part of Calum feels like he should be fighting more against that, fighting to maybe get more time. But he doesn’t. “Have fun. Let me know if you need a ride,” he says, unsure if he needs to shout to be heard over the receiver. 

“Okay, will do!” The call ends and he drops into his sofa. Part of him is relieved, strangely. He doesn’t have to worry about having to do something. He doesn’t have to muster up the energy. He had it. If you weren’t out and about, he wouldn’t have minded doing something but he’d rather sit at home. 

Was he wrong for that? Was it wrong to thank the high heavens you had already preoccupied yourself without him?  Was it wrong to know something wasn’t going to make it all the way to the end but just wanting to take the ride while it was still offered? He enjoys his time with you. He enjoys the laughs and the crazy adventures. But god, did he like doing nothing too. There was nothing wrong with that. Right?

His phone shakes again, later in the night with a text from you. Made it home safely. Am buzzed and I should never wear clothes with buttons ever again when drinking. 

He calls in response. “What happened with said buttons?”

“Fly was open,” you sigh in return, sinking into your own mattress. “Embarrassing.” His giggles cut through the slight fog of alcohol. “Don’t laugh.”

“Sorry, that’s a laughable offense, sweets.”

“Humph!” 

“Need me to come over?”

“Nah, not that drunk. Have-have you got no faith in me?”

“No, I have all the faith in you. Drink some water, okay?” You hum in your agreement, mumbling a good night to him. 

______________

“How long’s the tour?”

“Just shy of seven months. There are breaks, of course.”

You nod. “Of course.” They needed them for their own sanity and health. “I’ll watch Duke. You know I don’t mind.” He hasn’t asked. And Calum doesn’t really need to ask. You’ve always taken the chance to watch over the old man when Calum’s gone. You think you should’ve noticed Calum’s stubble before now. It’s not quite stubble really any more, on the cusp of being the start to a true beard. He usually doesn’t let it get this long. 

How long has it been? You’ve texted and called. But somehow in the catalog of your mind you can’t place the last time you saw him in person for longer than a few minutes. It doesn’t feel wrong, in the sense that you’re worried that things are falling apart. But it is strange. It’s almost like air between you--something that you know is there but can’t quite put a finger on it. It’s somehow distance but not distant. The strange new normal the two of you have created. And you want to be sad. It’s a strange guilt to see now more than ever what’s been expanding between the two of you, but not being upset that it’s happening. 

“I scheduled his appointments already,” Calum says, sliding a couple sheets of paper over to you. “Well, the major ones. I know your summer schedule’s a little different so I tried to keep that in mind too. Thanks again.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” 

Calum’s sure this will be the start of the end. And you are too. But that doesn’t stop you from messaging him just shy of three weeks from the start of the tour. Rehearsals are getting longer and more tiresome. His answers to text and calls are coming later in the night.  I’m dropping off a plate for you.  You send it on your lunch break, hoping that by the time you get off, Calum’s replied. 

And he has: Only if it’s not too much of a bother. Thankyou. 

It’s not long after returning home that you’re back in your car, Calum’s food resting on the floor to keep it from tipping over. At the gate, you worry it’ll take you too long to reach Calum to get inside, but thankfully, Luke and Michael are just ahead of you and let you in. The three of you wander back into the studio space. Michael explains at length the mechanics of a game to Luke. You’re not sure if he’s convincing the taller man, but Luke takes in each detail with a thoughtful face. 

“Please tell me you’re teaching any of this,” Luke teases, glancing at you.

“Dude, I’m just dropping off food. I’ve got nothing.” 

He laughs but agrees ultimately to give a test to Michael’s latest video game obsession. As the door to the space opens, you can’t help but let the soft smile crest your face at Calum’s stretched out figure on the floor. You’re not sure if he’s sleeping, but you know from experience if he gets too relaxed in any position anywhere he can and will fall asleep. “It would be such a shame,” you start, voice bouncing off the walls. Calum cracks a smile even though his eyes are still closed. “If this bowl of pad see ew just happened to take a bad stumble. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” he calls out from the floor. He’s slow to look up at you. But when he does, it’s a long gander. You’re still in your work clothes, though the shoes tell him you definitely did go home first. 

“Home cooked,” you offer, lifting the glass container and setting it on the table where Luke, Ashton, and Michael have gathered. 

“Really, thanks. It means a lot.” 

“Of course.”

Calum thinks about that phrase for long after you’re gone and long after he’s consumed the sweet and yet savory noodles. Like, of course--like you wouldn’t be doing anything else but helping him out majorly. Of course, you’d go from a crazy day at work to fixing him dinner. Like of course he shouldn’t have to worry constantly. Like of course this is normal. And it is normal, in some ways. But it’s not normal in others. It’s not normal, he thinks, to go weeks without seeing you and not feeling a super deep ache. There was the missing he felt when he wanted to see his mum, or his sister. But they had always kind of been away from him, ever since he moved out. Calum did miss you, but it never fully consumed him. Never made him mope, or be too down. Or maybe it was normal? Maybe it showed how much the two of you were secure with each other. 

____________________

Did you want to spend a few days together? Rehearsals are pretty much done. I know you’re still working though. 

Calum can’t seem to hit send. 

That last sentence is his out. It’s a way for you to say no without having to feel like an asshole. He knows that. He knows you’ll know that the second you read the text. But he can’t bring himself to delete it. 

With a swift kick of boldness, Calum taps the up arrow. The text lifts and then settles and Delivered sits right underneath the blue text in gray. It’s only an extra ten minutes from your place to work. I don’t mind. 

Most mornings, of the four that you spend with Calum right before the shuttle bus comes to get him, he whines as your alarm goes off. “You can spare five more minutes,” he mumbles into his pillow, one arm raised, not fully like the limbs much too heavy for his body to carry. And at this time in the morning, half past 6, it probably is too heavy to carry. 

“Only five,” you laugh before sliding back into bed, but not under the covers. 

Calum always curls back up into your side, arm thrown across your torso. “Can’t believe you’d leave this nice, warm bed.” 

He almost never mentions leaving him. He doesn't mention leaving you. It’s always the nice, warm bed you’d be leaving, that he’d be leaving. This nestle of comfort and known territory being the only thing tying the two of you together. 

You have to stop yourself from saying it’s just a bed. That any old bed can be nice and warm. Because it always could be any old bed that can be nice and warm. But do you want any old bed or do you want Calum’s? Do you want somebody else? Do you want to fly across skies? Or do you want Calum? 

“It is a nice, warm bed,” you say instead. It’s an agreement that whatever it is between you is nice. Though, you’re not convinced it’ll last. 

The first week of Calum on tour turns into a second. That second one turns into a third. And by the third week rolls around, the most your phone buzzes or chimes with anything related to Calum is a quick picture attached with a few lines about what’s going on in his world. You’re not even sure besides keeping him updated on Duke when you’ve talked about your life if you told Calum about the impromptu trip to Vegas. Or if you told him about your promotion at work. 

Somehow all of that just seems so mundane and so not the thing he’d care to hear about until he calls. It’s an early morning for you. “I see your end of the globe hasn’t gone up in flames yet.”

You shake your head with a tuft of laughter. “No, it’s still thriving. Just adjusting to this new job.”

“You quit your old one? Do you need anything to tide you over?”

“No, no, just a new position.” You almost start to say that you had to have told him. But if he’s asking, if he’s concerned, then you must have forgotten.

“Tell me about it.” 

“My job is not exciting,” you call out, grabbing your clothes from inside the closet. 

“Doesn’t matter. Bore me with the details.” You do. Enough so that, when you’re finally dressed and sitting down to eat breakfast, you can see him with his eyes drooping. “Bored him literally to sleep,” you laugh. 

“I am not asleep,” he responds with a sleepy mumble. 

“Sure you’re not.”

A month into the tour, Calum works it to have you flown out. Calum’s greet you in the car from the airport, the two of you laughing, falling into each other’s side, but ultimately always shifting back into place, resting into the back of the seat instead of each other. Calum’s not phased, not when you run ahead up to the historic hotel. He’s not phased when you run ahead of him at the museums are long the streets during your visit. But he knows it’s killing you. When the bands backstage, and you stare out of the windows, he knows it’s killing you not to get out there. Not to see the country, the cities, the people. 

“Tomorrow we can go adventuring,” he tells you, leaning up against the wall as you’ve curled yourself up into the window sill. 

“You’ve got another show tomorrow.”

He just winks at you, leaning forward to kiss the top of your head. And then he’s gone, back to the sofa, laughing as someone shows him something on their phone. The guys fall instantly back into their chaos. You watch, knowing you could fall into it too. You know their antics and their sense of humor. But yet, you sit in the window sill. You watch the birds fly pass. You watch people wander. You hear the slight cry of fans waiting for them and you know this isn’t really meant for you. 

This isn’t something that would saitatee you in the long run. 

You find out later after the show and he’s had a chance for a quick shower, that in the wee hours of the morning, just eeking pass one, Calum and you wander through nightlife. Arm in arm, you meander down streets, up city blocks, stopping at storefronts just to oogle over their displays. The skies are a little clearer. You can stop, leaning up against some random fence to watch the stars for a little it.

“It’s weird to think that I’m watching some stars last breathe. Like we’re so close, but so far away from the heavens. And they really just go on forever,” you whisper. 

Calum hums, sliding his hands into the pocket of the hoodie draped over your body. His fingers wrap around yours in the pocket. “But it’s almost like they are giving us their last wish, maybe. Giving us one last guiding light.”

 It’s almost four am when you find yourselves back at the front doors of the hotel. You’re laughing at Calum’s slurred speech due to drowsiness. He’s going to regret this in the morning maybe and you can only hope that there’s a pot of coffee big enough to help. His slumber is heavy next to you. Your brain is wired. You can feel it buzzing in your fingertips. How do you tell Calum that you don’t want to lose him but maybe the romanticism between the two of you isn’t there anymore? Was it ever really there to begin with?

With three days left on this trip, you don’t say anything at first. How do you even verbalize that? What are the right words? You don’t sleep that night either. When Calum reaches out for you, his arm feels like hot steel. Like it’s burning you for feeling any different. On the second night, you slip further into the seats in the back of the bus--there’s no stopping at a hotel this time--, your blanket pulled up to your chin, nothing plays on the TV in front of you. You know you can’t avoid him. Not at a time like this. But you’re still not sure if you can mention is just yet, if you have the nerves to do it. 

The door slides open and Calum is there, leaning against the faux frame and his body moves with ease at the jostle of the bus. “Mind if I pop a seat next to you?”

“Of course not.” It’s an automatic reply. And really you don’t mind. But you can tell by the way he nods, biting his lips and settles next to you but not into you that he’s aware of something too. But you’re aware now you can’t duck out of this conversation. There’s no turning back now. 

“You say ‘of course’ a lot, you know?”

“Something tells me that now isn’t the right time to say ‘of course, I know’ so I’ll refrain from using it.” 

His laughter is a quick exhalation, facing the blank screen too. “Are you--” he starts and then stops. He fiddles with his thumb nail for a second and then turns, bringing one leg up under the other and his hoodie cladded arm rests on the back of the sofa. “If it’s not--I’m not sure if our relationship is what it was before.”

You exhale. Your shoulders straighten under the blanket and you shift, sitting to face Calum more. There’s no sadness. Not even the clench of his jaw which he does when he’s trying to hold something back, when he doesn’t want to say what’s fully on his mind. “I-I don’t think so either.”

He gives a thoughtful nod, resting a hand on your leg, over the fuzzy black fabric. “And it’s not that I don’t have love for you. Nothing has happened, like nothing you did or said, or anything bad but.”

“It’s just different between us.”  Different doesn’t feel quite whole, so you unfurl finally from the mass and out of habit, pick at the fuzz on the end of his sleeves. “Well, more like, I’ve realized maybe what we wanted wasn’t what we needed? If that makes sense?”

“It makes sense.” Calum watches your fingers, pinching and rolling at the small balls of cotton. “I-I won’t mind if you stay or go. I’d like you to stay. There’s the museum you always wanted to go to in our next city, but if it’s too weird or anything, I totally understand.”

You shake your head, gaze lifting to his. He’s still chewing over his lip but he looks mostly calm. The nerves are obvious but this conversation is going better than you could’ve anticipated. “I don’t feel pressured to leave at all. I just, do you need space? If you need me to go, I’ll take the next flight out. You’ve got a job to do and I don’t want you to be in a weird headspace with me around. And I would hate--,”

He cuts you off with a squeeze of your hand. “You’re rambling. And no, I don’t want you to leave. I haven’t properly seen you in a few weeks. I still really enjoy your company. But it’s just, not like before, you know. Besides, you still owe drinks from when I kicked your ass in skee ball.”

His grin is small at first but it grows when you flap, releasing your hand from his hold and fold your arms across your chest. “The way I remember it, you would owe drinks if I beat you. Not that I owed drinks for losing.” 

When Calum giggles, you have to laugh. In all the previous breakups, you know laughing immediately after shouldn’t be happening. But everything’s different with Calum. All along the two of you were shifting, settling into the version of the bond you needed with each other, not necessarily the prescribed one from society, or the one that you wanted. 

“Would you be, like, upset if I took a separate bunk?” you asks. 

“Of course not,” Calum returns with a grin. 

Honestly, you feel relieved waking up the next day, for the most part. It should be awkward, but there’s something between you and Calum. There’s something you both get about each other that even in the face of change this bond doesn’t feel broken. It feels mended, finally and completely free too. No guilts, no second thoughts and what you should be doing or what you think Calum expects of you. 

It definitely carries a small sting. There’s no lying, a small bit of your routine and your normal is now gone and that worries you for when you go back home. Like, is it still acceptable that you steal his Santa Cruz hoodie? And when Calum catches your gaze from the otherside of the dressing room, he wonders if he can still kiss your forehead, still hold your hand? Or is that crossing the line? He airs on the side of caution for now, just smiles at you and you smile in return. 

Just before leaving, you fold his hoodie up, placing it on his bunk next to the not fully folded blanket that reveals his iPad. 

When Calum goes to his bunk he sees the hoodie. His heart drops, he won’t lie. When he picks it up, it feels heavy. Not physically, but he kinda wanted you to keep it. Something crinkles. He unfurls it. Nothing falls out but he can hear something. So he continues until he finds the hoodie pocket. 

I know, I know. I wanted to give you this back. Just for the moment. We’re still good like we said before. But I know it’s your favorite right behind the Empathy one. Kick ass on stage. Rock out. 

Calum smiles, neatly folding the note and slips into his bag that he takes into the venues. When the months slip by, show after show mildly interrupted with Duke updates and occasionally things about yourself, Calum finally finds himself able to sit on his own couch. Kick his feet up on his own coffee table. He’s able to decompress. He decompresses enough to fall asleep. A knock at the door jolts him awake. Wiping at the corner of his eyes and his mouth, he jumps from his couch. 

“You were totally asleep,” you grin when the door swings open. 

“Was not,” he retorts. Duke bars from below, jumping at Calum’s leg. “Oh, bubba. How are you?” 

“Good, just missed his pops.” 

Collecting Duke into his arms, Calum stands. “How are you? How’s life?”

“I’m good. Life’s good.” You lift the bag on your arm. “I brought you a plate. Or maybe like four.”

“You--you didn’t have to,” Calum returns. “But of course you did anyway.”

“Of course I did,” you laugh. “Mind if I come in? You can just love on Duke. I’ll reheat the spaghetti.”

He nods, allowing you inside. It’s much more than a plate as you unload the dish and a few other sides. It’s enough for him to eat dinner for a week almost. You always fixed more than he could ever eat. “How’s the move going?” The last time the two of you talked you mentioned needing a new place. Something a little bit bigger to accommodate your needs and the potential of housing your own dog or cat. You’re not entirely sure right now.  

“It’s going slow. But it’s going. Trying to sort out what to toss.”

“I can help, if you want.” Calum watches as you set the plate down in front of him. “Be the voice of reason when you know you really should toss the thing, but can’t do it without a nudge.”

“Or be the nagging voice that tells me to keep it. You know how this goes.”

Calum nods, setting Duke in the seat. “I know.”

“What are you doing? Sit. Eat.”

Two scoops of spaghetti or heaped onto a second plate. You manage to keep Duke away from Calum’s food. The plate hits the table with a muted thud. “If it’s not too much too soon, eat with me? ”

“Of course.” 

“There it is again,” he laughs. 

“What? I’ll leave. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Whoa, slow down. Eat. Then you can huff and puff and blow my house down.”

Calum:

The Song Series:

The Story of Us — based on the song by Taylor Swift, Calum and reader finally talk through their relationship at a party.

Calum and Mara AU:

New Beginnings — Calum and reader bring Mara home from the hospital, where she meets her Uncles for the first time and has her ups and downs at home.

This is Home — Calum introduces newborn Mara on a livestream to his fans, before having a sweet family moment.

Simple Sunday Afternoons — A soft Sunday including a walk to the park and a movie night.

A Day of Sleep and Cuddles — Mara has an ear infection and Calum has to force her to take medicine and watch Disney movies with him.

Make a Home — Mara goes on tour with Calum, reader & the band where she meets fans and joins them in an interview.

One Night — Where Calum and reader just want one night to sleep without Mara squished in between them.

3:00am — Inspired by a scene in This is Us, Mara has a nightmare and the only thing that can calm her down is reassuring cuddles from Calum and Duke.

Milestones mini series:

First Word — Mara is on the tour bus and refuses to nap unless Michael’s dog Moose is with her — the title explains how she makes that happen.

First Steps — Another blurb based on tour — Mara takes her first steps whilst surrounded by her parents and Uncles.

First Day of School — Mara has first day of school nerves, and Calum is an emotional dad who cannot believe his baby is growing up.

Uncle!Calum: (With non — gendered reader) 

Calum takes you to meet Harper for the first time, and she decides whether she likes you.

You and Calum decided that you’re happy to dote on the guys’ children instead of having your own.

You and Calum take Michael’s daughter out for the day, and do the one thing he told you not to — let her sleep late in the afternoon.

Calum takes Michael’s daughter and Ashton’s son for a picnic, where he ends up eating the food himself because they’re so fussy.

Calum has a new baby, and Ashton’s son is worried that he won’t have his fun uncle around as much anymore.

Second baby series:

Finding Out  — You and Calum find out you’re expecting your second child. 

Big Sister — Mara finds out she’s going to have a little sibling.

Other:

Monday’s — you realise that Monday’s haven’t been so bad since falling in love with Calum.

Focus on Me — Calum comforts reader through a night of feeling anxious.

Stay Over — The first time Calum spends the night at your place.

Can We Talk?* — You open up to Calum about not feeling your best mentally for the first time in your relationship.

For the First Time — You meet Calum’s parents and extended family in Australia for the first time.

Goodbye, But Only For Now — Calum leaves for tour and you say an emotional goodbye at home before he leaves.

Home Is Whenever I’m With You — Calum is feeling burnt out on tour, so with a little help from Ashton, you decide to go and surprise him.

Patience (Bestfriend!Calum) — You go on yet another bad date and end up at Calum’s door, where he cheers you up and then offers to take you on a good date.

Better Be Home Soon — Calum isn’t feeling his best, and you hear him singing alone in his studio before talking to him about how much he misses home and his family.

Blurbs:

Waking up on tour with Calum

Going public with your relationship with Calum

Reassuring Calum before a show in his hometown

Honeymoon with Calum

Calum falls asleep on you backstage

Calum helps you deal with the aftermath of an anxiety attack

Best friend!Calum admitting he’s in love with you

Best friend!Calum sleeps in your bed after a nightmare

Restless night with Calum

Uncle Calum on tour 

Watching the sunrise with Dad!Calum

Luke:

The Song Series:

Fix It to Break It — based on the song by Clinton Kane.

Luke and Delilah:

Just the Way You Are  — Dad!Luke plays around with his mischievous nine month old, who happens to be obsessed with your makeup brushes. 

Pool Day  — Luke and Delilah spend some time in the pool together, but Delilah finds an unusual place to nap. 

Hemmings Family of 8 AU:

The Beginning — Where new dad Luke holds his baby for the first time.

Content* — Reader and Luke take their son on holiday for the first time, to the same place where they had their honeymoon.

A Sunday Afternoon — A typical family afternoon with the Hemmings family.

Live Stream* — Luke and Calum are live-streaming when they have an unexpected guest.

Adoption AU:

Missing Piece — After struggling to have children of their own, reader and Luke decide to adopt a baby, but the process isn’t easy.

As Time Goes By — The ups and downs of Luke and reader’s adopted daughter trying to settle into their family and home, including meeting the band, and finally getting legally adopted.

Cuddles are the Best Medicine — Bella isn’t feeling well, so Luke and reader try to help her feel better with medicine and cuddles.

We Needed You — Bella meets some very important family members, as well as enduring a few emotional moments too.

Babysitting — Bella is left with her uncles and cousins for the first time.

FWB!Luke:

Midnight Call — You spent the night with Luke whenever you feel like you need to breathe, to get away from everything — but Luke isn’t sure whether he wants something more.

Other:

Starting Line — Luke opens up to reader about the solo music he wants to make.

Take Care — You come home from a day out with your friends, and Luke helps you get into bed.

Sunday Night — Luke joins in with your Sunday night routine and wants to use your skin care.

Nightmares — Luke has a nightmare and needs you to help calm him down.

New Years Eve — You and Luke spend New Years Eve together, along with a new addition — your little secret.

Uncertainty — Luke is worried about working from home and being in quarantine when he has an album to release. TW — mentions of anxiety

Being Known is Being Loved — Throughout your relationship, Luke has noticed little things about you that make him fall in love even more. Based on this post.

Blurbs:

Luke’s first night home from tour 

Fighting with Luke

Sleeping on the sofa with Luke

Moving in with Luke

Post-show with Luke

Luke lends you his jacket

Showering with Luke

Missing toys with dad!Luke

Afternoon naps with dad!Luke

Dad!Luke dealing with a nightmare

Lazy Sunday morning with dad-to-be!Luke

Pregnant reader napping with Luke

Michael:

Twins AU:

The Twins — Where Michael holds his twin babies for the first time.

Other:

Birthday Getaway (5sos Writers Collab Event) —You and Michael spend the weekend away for his birthday, but when you arrive at your destination, you realise there’s an error in the booking. 

Thunderstorms — Where there’s a thunderstorm and you’re scared, and Michael is there to comfort you.

Photographer!Michael:

My Favourite Place (5sos Writers Collab Event) —Once photographer!Michael gets an idea, he has to chase it until it’s perfect, and this time, his idea involves you.

Singledad!Michael:

Each Other (5sos Writers Collab Event) — Michael is a single dad who just wants to do the best for his son, as well as being in the band — his new neighbour helps him get his life back together.

 Without Me (non—gendered reader)  — Michael comes home from the studio to find Levi and reader fast asleep together. He tucks them both into bed, and realises how lucky he is to have them both. 

Blurbs:

Sharing a bed with Michael for the first time

Michael helps you through an anxiety attack

Secret kiss with Michael 

Holding Michael whilst he sleeps

Playing video games with Michael

Bath time with dad!Michael

Ashton:

Singledad!Ashton AU:

Alone, But Not Really — Ashton is a single dad going on tour with his baby girl, and you’re hired as a babysitter, which he isn’t too pleased about, but it works out for the best.

Other:

Waking Up — Ashton and reader wake up in their new house together for the first time.

Friday Night — Quarantine has lead to reader having back issues — Ashton is keen to help out with his massage skills.

Blurbs:

Ashton helps you through an anxiety attack

Leaving a show with Ashton

Fighting with Ashton