Writing prompt: “you’re the worst person I’ve ever meet”
Annie, darling! thank u for sending this, i rly need to get out my creative slump akdkak
wrote some platonic ot4 for u, let's hope it doesn't suck!
When you know someone for decades, they become an extension of you.
This is a feeling Michael hasn't gotten fully used to just yet. It's like parts of his consciousness lie with Luke, Calum, and Ashton, and are inaccessible to him when they're away.
Granted, this doesn't happen very often. What with the band and their, frankly, codependent relationship, it's rare for them to go no-contact for more than a few hours.
But there's still moments where Michael has a word on the tip of his tongue and can't help but feel like one of his boys knows exactly what it is, like they could formulate his sentences better than he could.
This stretch of the self isn't always cute, however, because knowing each other intimately only means they're all privy to all of their quirks and bad habits.
Luke, for example, tends to sigh and yell at random times, as though there's too much air in his lungs and it's constantly begging for an escape. They could be in the middle of something important and there'll be Luke startling all of them by vocalizing and making odd sounds out of nowhere.
Ashton has a tendency to misplace things and sings these nonsense tunes to himself, which wouldn't be so bad if they didn't stick to Michael's brain like gum on the sole of his shoe. He still hums along to the Lost Drumstick song Ashton improvised two months ago. It's irritating. (It's endearing).
Now, Calum... Calum is the worst person to watch a movie with. Michael loves to talk, Calum doesn't. He's constantly shushing Michael like he does when Duke starts barking at nothing in particular. Michael laughs too loudly and Calum only chuckles, which sometimes makes him feel conscious about the resonance of his joy. Worst of all, though, Michael always insists they should get separate bowls of popcorn and snacks because Calum always eats all of it and insists it's fine, that he won't do it this time, cross his heart, hope to die.
But Calum always fucking does.
So when Michael reaches into the bowl and finds only the unpopped kernels, he looks at Calum like he just kicked him in the shin.
"You're the worst person I've ever met," Michael says.
Calum laughs, a singular cackle.
"No, I'm not," he says, "There's Luke."
From the kitchen, where Luke and Ashton are, doing God knows what, comes a shrill, "What did I do?!"
"You know what you did!" Calum hollers back, a smile growing on his face.
Michael knows, through this connection they share, for better or worse, that Calum's talking about last week, when Luke borrowed Calum's favorite shirt and spilled coffee all over it.
Luke doesn't reply, probably because he knows too and feels much too ashamed to say anything, but his whine is loud enough either way.
Michael grabs a handful of kernels and throws them at Calum, because he's not matured past the age of fifteen, and commands him, "Go make more popcorn," in his most petulant voice. Calum only laughs some more.
Ashton walks into the living room and throws a bag of chips at each of them, Calum's is plain (boring) but Michael's is sour cream and onion (the best), so maybe this telepathic bond is worth something.
"You're the best," Michael says, eagerly digging in.
"Yeah, yeah," Ashton says, brushing him off like he always does when he gets a compliment, "Love you too, Mike."
Calum throws a chip at him. Michael eats it without missing a beat.
"Yeah, we all love you, Mike," he says, sarcastic, fond, and genuine all at once.
"Fuck you, you..." Michael flounders.
"Bottomless pit," Luke offers. Michael snaps his fingers.
"That! Fuck you, you bottomless pit," he says, "We're making two bowls next time."
Michael sticks his tongue out at Calum. They all know there won't be two bowls. This will keep happening. Begrudgingly, Michael will admit he's okay with it.
