we break, but we're not broken

Calum has been staring at his phone, unblinking, for the past minute.

"Whatcha got there Cal?"

Calum snaps his neck a remarkable 90° to look at Giggleshitter3000 and Giggleshitter3001. The little bastards have their arms wrapped around each other, cuddling on Calum's sofa, looking oh so comfortable, right across from him.

"Guys, what is this?" Calum asks, pointing at his phone, hoping that the guilty will confess their crimes.

Michael, or else known as Calum's soon-to-be-dead best friend, gives him a sly look. "That's a phone, Calum."

"A mobile phone, to be specific." Luke chimes in, sporting a matching look with his boyfriend.

Calum straightens up, putting a sickly sweet smile on, "I know that, I'm asking you why it says that I have a date in an hour."

"Because you have a date in an hour?" Michael shrugs.

Calum looks down at his phone again, then back up at his meddling friends, "But it says I have a date with Ashton, like your co-worker Ashton?."

"Not, seeing your problem here buddy." Luke says, an innocent look on his face, a face that's starting to look more punch-able by the ticking second.

"Ashton is a man. Last I checked, I'm straight." Calum tries to emphasise the obvious.

Michael looks at him sagely, "Exactly, last you checked. We thought you could use another check up."

Calum groans in frustration. He's such a nice person, he's amicable and helpful, he even donates semi-regularly. What sins has he committed to get friends like these?

This is not the first time that Luke and Michael have brought up Calum's supposed bisexuality, and it is starting to get under his skin.

"I mean you did say that if a man met your criteria, you would be down to be dicked down," Michael says, still relaxed back in his boyfriend's embrace, unaware of the imminent threat to his life, "Ashton happens to meet those criteria."

Calum rakes a hand through his hair, irritation itching under his skin, "I was drunk off my ass when I said that, I could literally taste colours."

"Alcohol makes you honest, not like cock." Luke quips.

Calum checks the time again, "You guys could have at least given me a warning earlier." Calum groans again, getting up from the sofa, "I have less than an hour to get ready and reach there. Oh my god."

"You seem pretty bothered for a date you don't wanna go on." Luke says. Calum doesn't respond, making long strides to his bathroom . Realistically, he shouldn't care. He still takes the quickest shower of his life. He raids his closet, looking for something to wear. He settles on a purple t-shirt and cargo pants.

Calum just doesn't want to leave this guy hanging, all because he got roped into Michael and Luke's poor idea of a joke.

He walks back into the living room, rummaging for his keys and wallet. He hears a wolf whistle from the sofa, but he doesn't turn around. "Lookin' good Cal, hoping to impress?" 

Calum hops around trying to get his shoes on. He yanks the front door open, turning around to address the two who are still snickering at Michael's comment.

"First off, I always look this good; second, I'm going to apologise to this Ashton guy. He doesn't have to be stood up just because you guys think you are funny. And third, get out of my house." And if he slams the door a little extra hard on his way out, just to make a dramatic exit, can you really blame him?

A voice at the back of Calum's head wants him to stop and think about why he's briskly walking to the bar down the block. This doesn't mean anything. He is only doing this because he pities the other guy. If —no— when Calum returns from this "date" with the unsurprising conclusion that he's still very much not into men, maybe Michael and Luke will finally give it a rest.

Walking into the bar, Calum realises he doesn't know what Ashton looks like. He looks around at the patrons of the bar, only to find one man sitting by himself. That has to be him.

"Hi, Ashton?" Calum asks. The man perks up at the sound of his name.

"Yup, Calum, I presume." The other man gives him a wide smile, revealing dimples. Cute. 

Calum sits down opposite Ashton, his eyes scan the other man. He's good looking; Calum has to admit. Ashton's soft brown curls and eyes that flit between brown and green may be ticking some of the boxes his past drunk self was talking about. And the dimples also help.

Maybe Luke and Michael had some idea about what they were talking about; but Ashton's still a guy, so maybe not.

"So," Calum starts, "a bit of a disclaimer, I did not know about this until like an hour ago. Michael and Luke set this up, because they think I might be into guys. I'm really sorry for them, I completely understand if you want to not do this."

The smile on Ashton's face doesn't vanish, but it does dim in intensity. Calum's stomach sinks a bit. Ashton looks at Calum, considering, "I still have this drink to finish, so I think we can sit around for a bit."

That didn't go so badly, Calum thinks. 

It is awkward. They both try to make conversation, it's just that Calum has no idea what he's supposed to say. Ashton seems to have the same problem. The dread that Calum has been feeling since he sat down has not gone anywhere. 

The small talk is unbearable. It's the all the dreadful question: 'Did you find your way here easily?', 'How do you guys know each other?', 'You're from around here?'. Calum feels like he's in a simulation, and Ashton is making no effort to prove him otherwise. His words are pinched and most of them are affectless. Calum is struggling to grasp at something to talk about. 

In the nicest way Calum can say it, this interaction is painfully boring and devoid of any excitement. This is the guy they set me up with?

To be fair though, Calum can tell Ashton was hoping to have a nice actual date. He is dressed for it at least. The black shirt that he's wearing stretches over his shoulders. Calum notes the way that the sleeves of the shirt strain around his arms. It would be something that would pique Calum's interest, if he was interested in that sort of thing— but he's not, of course.

"Do you think that you're into guys?" 

It puts a stop to Calum's train of thoughts. "What?"

Ashton's lips tilt upwards as he takes another sip, "You said Michael and Luke set you up, because they think you're into guys, what about you?"

Calum lets out a small awkward laugh. "When I'm drunk, maybe." He jokes. The joke does not land.

"So you're one of those guys." The words are sprinkled with a pinch of disparagement. It's not too much, just something that slipped into the other man's tone. It still twists something in Calum's gut.

"What is that supposed to mean?" 

Ashton chuckles lowly, "I don't mean any disrespect, but y'know the kind, having your cake and eating it too."

Calum's lips purse. He's not slow, he picks up on what Ashton is insinuating. "It's not like that."

"Sure." Ashton places his glass back on the table, it's empty now.

Calum's gaze trails from the glass back to Ashton's face. The intensity of the other man's eyes throws him off. It's also a big difference from the plain expression that Ashton's had been wearing previously. 

Whatever. At least Calum doesn't have to do this any longer. 

Calum lets out a hot sigh, giving Ashton the most congenial expression he can muster, considering everything. He stands up, pushing his chair back. Calum offers his hand to the other man, a handshake to conclude this dumpster fire. Ashton's warm palm fits against his, long fingers wrapping over Calum's. The tight grip almost made Calum wince, but he refuses to show any weakness.

"Well Ashton, it was not nice to meet you."

"I can say the same." 

Calum shakes his head, lips forming a thin smile. He is sure his vexed expression mirrors that of Ashton's. "You're hot and all," just to be an ass, Calum adds, "but no homo, you understand."

Ashton's eyes roll, a sound that is somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle leaves his lips. With that Calum whirls around, leaving the man where he was. 

Calum adjusts the collar of his t-shirt. What the fuck was that?

The sounds of the bar fade into the bustling traffic, as Calum walks away. He doesn't know why what Ashton said ticked him off the way it did. The other man had obviously misunderstood Calum. 

He's not afraid to confront his sexuality. He just has never liked men like that. Sure, he may have made out with Michael and Luke, but that was just childish curiosity. And there were a couple of other guys, on intoxicated nights, lips locking hot and messy, but they never meant anything. Every time, Calum would walk away a little more warm, and a little more light-headed. But that's about it.

And whatever Ashton was talking about is simply not true. Calum always lets them know that it's nothing serious, just before they pull him in. 

Calum opens his door to find the miscreants still on his couch. He's sure that they haven't even moved an inch since he left. Michael checks the clock before saying, "Mate, it's not even been an hour, how badly did you fuck up?"

Calum pulls off his shoes. He storms over to the sofa, planting himself in between the two, "Do you guys hate me?"

Luke wraps an arm around Calum's shoulder, jostling him, "Of course, not snookums."

Calum splutters, "Snookums?" 

"Well yes, if you want us to coddle you, nicknames are must, you understand?." Michael says, squeezing Calum's cheeks.

"I don't want you to coddle me!" 

"If you're gonna act like a baby, the coddling is must."

Calum crosses his hands sinking further into the sofa with a frown, "I'm not acting like a baby." That earns him twin raised eyebrows. 

"Why would you set me up with a dick?" Calum complains.

They other men share a confused look. "What did you do?"

"Why would I do anything? I literally said nothing and this guy was just antagonising me!"

Luke gives him a knowing look, eyebrows scrunched and lips tilting downwards, "Be honest, did you even give the date a chance?"

"It wasn't a date," Calum pushes them off, "It was just one drink with an asshole — and I'm not into men." Calum stands up, grabbing a water bottle of the table 

Michael groans, rolling over on his stomach, "Oh god, you are so annoying, genuinely a lost cause."

"Whatever." Calum ignores his friends' bitching and moaning. He takes a swig of the bottle, heading to the kitchen.

It's fine, everything is fine. Calum is absolutely okay. Maybe this disastrous set up will finally make Michael and Luke leave him alone. 

And Ashton, well, after what happened today, it's unlikely that Calum is going to spend another minute thinking about him.

__

Calum would like to clarify. He did not spend anytime thinking about Ashton voluntarily. It's like his subconscious is throwing a riot. He finds himself revisiting the thirty minute meeting at random times of the day, prompted by the slightest of things.

He keeps mulling over it, about what had caused the other man to snap at him. Maybe he's just a fucking grump. Again, he can't figure out why his brain insists on re-examining the worst date of his life. He's had bad dates before, he has never spared them a second thought before, letting bygones be bygones and shit.

But, something about the other man kept looming over Calum's head, like vultures. It comes to him in flashes, lingering at the back of his mind — even now, as he sits in another bar, on a night out with his friends. 

Calum hasn't seen much of either of his best friends this week, so he should be focused on spending time with them; however, Calum is immediately sidetracked by the glimpse of a man with brown curls. His brain evokes a picture of Ashton before he can stop it. What the fuck. He shakes his head to get rid of it.

"Hey guys!" Ashton greets them.

Cool, we are in the hallucination stage now. Calum think, blinking vigorously to get rid of the apparition.

Ashton is still standing there, his hand placed on the backrest behind Michael. Ashton is looking down at the couple, smiling the dimpled smile that has been haunting Calum for days, until his eyes meet Calum's. 

"Oh."

Their heads turn to their friends at once, questioning and accusatory looks on both of them.

"We hadn't seen either of you much this week, so we thought we could all hangout, together." Luke's voice get higher by the end of the sentence.

Calum is having none of Luke's bullshit though, "You and Ashton work together."

"Yeah, but we're in different departments." 

"Luke, I literally dropped you home last night." Ashton deadpans. Calum's heartbeat picks up when he considers that Ashton and him are somewhat united at the moment.

Michael butts in, trying to act innocent, "We thought the more the merrier?" 

"You guys are cute," Ashton chuckles, "c'mon, scoot." Luke and Michael shuffle along their u-shaped booth, making space for Ashton, putting him right opposite Calum.

Surprisingly, it doesn't suck entirely. Maybe it's because Luke and Michael are there to manage the conversation whenever Calum and Ashton are tip-toeing the line of courtesy with passive-aggressive remarks. 

It's horrible in that sense, because Calum feels like a toddler who has been asked to play nice with another kid at the playground. It's just that this guy seems to have a special ability to tap dance on Calum's nerve. Everything he says is being rebutted by the brunet. What is his problem?

The conversation shifted to the topic of modern art at some point. How they got here? Calum is too tipsy to recount. All his energy is being diverted to trying not jump across the table, to grab Ashton by the collar, and shutting him up, putting a stop to all the mouthing off that he's been doing.

"— a lot of these art pieces are supposed to defy the conventions of what is museum-worthy and what is not." Ashton finishes, leaning back into his seat.

Calum considers the other man, rubbing his lips with his fingers, "Okay, so I get it, they are supposed to get people talking, create discussions. Alright, it qualifies as art. But, art pieces are still open to criticism, and I don't have to like every piece of art out there."

Ashton nods, tipping his head back. Calum's eyes drift to his exposed neck momentarily, before returning to the other man's face. 

Calum continues, "So, even if I do understand the message I can still say, this sucks, because I can be critical of the presentation of the message."

It's now Ashton's turn to contemplate. The man's head tilts further, eyes still fixed on Calum. The scrutiny, the way Ashton is looking down his nose, is causing a strange disruption in Calum's breathing. 

"Okay, I get what you mean." Ashton's words are spoken with an undercurrent of something deep. Calum feels funny. With that statement, Michael and Luke spring back into the discussion.

The shift in the air isn't unnoticed by Calum. Instead of biting his tongue with every sentence he said, Calum was a little less careful with his words. And instead of disagreement, Ashton seemed to add on. There was a different type of fervour in Ashton's words now. Calum watches the way that Ashton seems to bounce off of Michael, going back and forth on a joke. He doesn't hold back on teasing Luke, but the adoration in his tone cuts any harshness. Calum's shoulders lose their tense posture as he gets more familiar with the person Michael and Luke kept saying Ashton was.

He tries to keep his laughter quiet, because every time Ashton's quick wit draws a chuckle out of Calum, the brunet would get a small satisfied smile on his face. He may be warming up to this guy, but he still can't give him that satisfaction.

"Okay guys, we are gonna go dance." Michael claims, one palm shooting out towards the dancefloor, the other hand tugging Luke's hand. Calum gets up to let the couple get out of the booth. Calum snickers as the two sway their way to the floor. Calum picks up his jacket from his seat, putting it on.

"You're leaving?" 

Calum looks up at Ashton when he hears the question.

He pats his jacket pocket, "Oh, no, I'm just going for a smoke." Ashton clears his throat, "Can I join?"

Calum's eyebrows shot up, heart doing a routine in his chest. He lets out a cool breath, before replying, "Yeah, sure." 

The air outside was crisp, the cold cutting through their jackets. Calum finds his usual dimly lit corner, leaning against the cool brick wall. Ashton strolls behind him, coming to a stop in front of him.

Calum pulls out his pack, offering Ashton a cigarette. The other man takes it with a short nod, a grin stretching across his face. Calum reaches into his back pocket for his lighter.

He watches the cigarette dangle between Ashton's lips as he lights his own. The twisting in his gut need an immediate drag of his cig to soothe it. 

Ashton takes out his own lighter, flicking it alight in front of his face. The smoke filling up his lungs is the only explanation for why Calum's head feels light at witnessing the action.

The flame illuminates the man's face, the flickering of the light reflects in Ashton's eyes. Calum can't look away from the way Ashton's lips wrap around the cigarette. 

Ashton's eyes are fixed on his, the spark still remains in his eyes. The smoke curls around his lips as he blows it out. It's hypnotic, Calum's fingers twitch with the urge to replace the smoke. Calum should look away, but the man's eyes have him nailed to his spot. The thought of not drinking in every moment of this, whatever this is, seems dreadful.

In a moment, Calum feels a catastrophic shift in perspective. His feet feel heavy, his stomach has vacated its position, plummeting to the ground. The usual effect of nicotine, causing a looseness in his limbs was replaced by restlessness, the impulse to touch, and push, and pull is greater.

His mind is silent, no protests or doubts, and he is seeing past him own bullshit for once.

He wants this man under him.

__

Calum pushes Ashton against his door. Lips clash together in a rush. Calum's head rings from the impact of their teeth knocking together, and he doesn't mind it at all. He clutches his hands tighter in Ashton's collar. Now with the fabric between his fingers, Calum's realising where his urge to shut Ashton up was stemming from.

"I've been wanting to do this since you showed up tonight." he whispers as he pulls away, still watching Ashton's lips. Ashton lips curl momentarily before he shoots forward, removing the distance again. Ashton worries his bottom lip, following it with a lick. 

"You weren't doing a great job hidin' it babe," Ashton whispers against his lips. The feeling of the words make Calum shake on the inside. He is so fucking screwed.

Warm hands slide under Calum's shirt, trailing up and up until they reach his nipples. Calum gasp quietly as Ashton's thumbs press into them. Ashton takes the opportunity to try to lick into his mouth. Calum pushes back however; he's not giving in. 

In the struggle, Calum doesn't realise the hands leaving his body and making their way into his hair. He lets out an unexpected whine as Ashton gives his hair a sharp tug, a jolt going right to his dick. Calum's reaction doesn't go unnoticed by the brunet, as his lips turn into a self-satisfied smirk. 

"Noted," he mouths at Calum. Calum scoffs, pulling him back in, now with the single minded determination to make Ashton fall apart. He pulls out all his tricks. His tongue curls around the other man's, coaxing him closer. His hands reach into the damp curls at the back of Ashton's head, holding him there, as he explores. The little sighs that keep slipping from Ashton's lips keep fuelling him. His thumb caresses the line of Ashton's jaw, pushing into the hinge. Calum's heartbeat picks up to match Ashton's fluttering pulse under his thumb.

"Bed?" Ashton gasps as he breaks away. Calum nods vigorously. He pulls them away from the door, slowly walking backwards towards his room. Their lips and hands are unwilling to separate as they stumble through Calum's apartment.

They keep getting sidetracked, busy pulling at each other's clothes. Against the fridge, in the hallway, against the bedroom door, Calum pins Ashton to every upright surface he can find, sucking and biting bruises into the man's neck. Every time his teeth digs into Aston's skin, the man lets out a breathy sigh, his hands sweeping over Calum's body, squeezing whatever he can grab. It's addictive in a way that Calum wouldn't have expected.

By the time they make it onto Calum's bed, they've both lost their shirts and their pants are unzipped. Calum palms Ashton's bulge, eliciting a loud moan. He watches hazel eyes flutter shut, relishing in the reaction. Calum throws his leg over Ashton, straddling his thighs. The man raises himself on his elbows, looking at Calum through his lashes. Calum's hand reaches out on instinct, cupping Ashton's jaw. 

Calum's thumb swipes at the upturned corner of his mouth "You look so pretty under me, who would've known?" 

Ashton's eyes narrow, "Not you, considering you aren't into men when you're sober."

"Y'know what? I'm finally gonna replace that stick in your ass with my dick." 

The loud burst of laughter catches off guard Calum. Ashton throws his head back, shoulder shaking with it. The sound of it reverberates through Calum, making him feel hotter. Ashton's laugh trails off in chuckles, letting out an exhale as he stop laughing. He gives Calum a sharp smile, his eyes filled with a familiar intensity.

"God, do you ever shut up?"

Calum's breath stutters in his throat, dumbfounded. The moment is enough for Ashton to flip them around. Calum lands on the bed, his breath knocking out of him. Ashton is kneeling between his thighs now, hands on Calum's sides. 

"Who said you were on top, princess?" Ashton's finger dig further, no doubt leaving bruises. It doesn't help with the constriction in Calum's chest. 

Calum bites his lip, "You ask too many fucking questions."

"I'm curious about you, Calum." The way that he says Calum's name, low and careful, mixed with the way that Ashton is looking down at him, makes blood rush away from his head. 

"All that denial and protest, only to give it all up in seconds," Ashton hand slithers up to grab his jaw, pulling their mouths closer, but not close enough to meet. "It does makes me curious."

Calum wants to say something, but what? Ashton's eyes scan Calum's face, "Twisting and bending around your words," Ashton places a kiss on his lips. It's heady, making his toes curl. As Ashton pulls away Calum stops himself from chasing after his lips; his eyes follow the kiss-bruised lips still.

"Will you bend for me?" 

The rush from the kiss makes it a little slower for Calum to comprehend Ashton's question. His brain jolts awake when he registers it. 

"Yes."

Calum's answer causes a moment of silence, stretching on as they both assess what to do next.

Ashton looks him up and down, "You haven't done this before, right?"

Calum shakes his head, his cheeks aflame, somewhere between embarrassed and aroused.

"Lube and condoms?" Ashton asks. Calum motions to his bedside drawer. He watches Ashton rummage through it, making a little appreciative noise when he finds the bottle and packet.

Ashton crawls over to him, dropping the items next to Calum.

"Lay back princess." Calum suppresses the shiver the nickname gets out of him. 

"Don't call me that."

"F'course, princess," Ashton smiles at him. The curve of his lips is so fucking condescending, and all it does, is make Calum’s dick harder.

Ashton pulls down Calum's pants and underwear in a quick tug. The feeling of the cool air on his newly exposed skin makes Calum inhale sharply. Ashton lowers himself further down Calum's body, placing his hands on Calum's knees. With a slight nudge, he asks for permission to continue.

So close to what he wants, Calum doesn't waste any time, widening the gap between his thighs. The tightening feeling in his gut keeps growing exponentially the longer Ashton sits there, eyes roaming Calum's exposed frame.

After forever, Ashton moves.

"Relax," Ashton urges Calum as he freezes up at the intrusion of the first finger. The feeling is foreign and honestly, a little uncomfortable. Why does anyone do this? He lets out a sigh as Ashton gently caresses the side of his thigh with his free hand. 

It takes a while for Calum to get familiar with the feeling, the sensation is still odd. Yet, the stretch makes his dick pulse, a tickling feeling forming under his skin. Soon, Calum feels his stomach muscles loosen, careful breathing in and out, following the movement of Ashton's finger. 

Calum starts moving with the fingers as Ashton adds another. Calum's starting to understand the appeal, the warmth spreading through his body. An indescribable noise is pushed out of Calum when Ashton curls his fingers a certain way. Calum watches the smug look on Ashton's face, eyes trained on Calum's leaking cock.

The feeling isn't enough, "More," Calum whines, planting his feet on the bed for better leverage. Ashton only clicks his tongue, doing nothing to give Calum what he wants. "Not yet, babe."

"Oh my god, Ash," Calum protests, frustration seeping in, "'M not gonna fucking break, want more…"

"Behave, don't be a brat."

"Fuck that," Calum scoffs, wiggling to get some more friction, "I could've just done this myself."

All movement stops the moment the last word comes out of Calum's mouth. Ashton pulls out his fingers, wiping them on the bed, beside Calum. The sudden emptiness makes Calum make a small noise at the back of his throat. Calum's head shoots up, eye widening, to get a better look at Ashton's cool expression. 

"Go on."

Calum's boldness immediately deserts him, "What?"

"You said you could do this yourself, do it then." Ashton jerks his head slightly at him, with the most subtle amused tilt of his lips, "I won't touch you."

Calum exhales out of his nose, sitting up, meeting Ashton's gaze head on. The urge to apologise and ask Ashton to continue what he was doing is overwhelming, but that's an amount of humiliation Calum's not ready for yet.

Ashton's stare burns into Calum as he reaches for the bottle of lube. Pouring a decent amount of it on his fingers, he then reaches the hand between his legs, circling the rim, spreading the slick around. Calum pushes in, a shaky breath leaving his mouth. 

Calum tries imitating whatever Ashton was doing to him, wiggling his fingers to test out what he knows as well, but he is unable to find the angle that just felt so right. He groans in frustration, leaning back on his free hand to change his angle of access. Yes, there it is. A loud content content sigh vibrates in Calum's throat, eyes fluttering shut as he massages the spot. 

Using the other hand as leverage, Calum fucks himself on his fingers, pulling out and sinking down. He plays it up, with the way he's gasping and moaning; he has an agenda here. 

Calum wills himself to slow down, grinding on his fingers. Calum has one last move. Who the fuck does Ashton think he is? He is going to eat his words. 

He forces his eyes open. Calum feels a shock of arousal as he takes in the sight in front of him. Ashton is palming his bulge through his underwear, eyes glossy and fixed at the point where Calum's fingers go in and out of his hole. 

"Ash," Calum sighs, trying to sound more fucked out than he was feeling, "I'm close."

Ashton's eyes snap to him, "Okay, stop." 

"Nuh uh, I'm so close, so close," Calum smiles to himself, trying to suppress his giggle, "Ash, I'm gonna come."

"Calum, please stop."

"Why should I stop? You said you won't even touch me." Calum pouts, a bit exaggerated. "So much talk Ashton, and I still have to make myself come."

Calum can't help the small chuckle that slips out of him.

Ashton's nostrils flare, eyes narrowing. He looks at Calum for a beat longer, til his lips stretch into a grin. Calum swears he saw his teeth glisten dangerously.

Long fingers wrap firmly around Calum's wrist, stilling his movement. "Stop now, brat."

Calum's heart is banging against his rib cage, he pulls out without any more protest. 

Ashton gets off the bed, standing right in front of Calum. He pulls off his own pants and boxers. Calum's eyes widen as he takes in Ashton's dick as it springs free from its confines. Maybe he should've actually let Ashton prep him. 

"On your hands and knees." Ashton grunts, returning to the bed.

Despite following what he's told, Calum can't resist being a little shit. He rolls his eyes, muttering, "Finally."

SMACK

The sting of the slap seems to fire all of Calum's nerve ending at once. The noise that he makes would embarrass Calum if he wasn't in this moment. The point of impact is still tingling, sending spurts of pre-cum through his slit. Calum bends his head forward trying to collect himself.

Another smack rocks Calum forward, making him whine, feeling off kilter again. Ashton's hand reaches for his jaw, turning Calum to face him. Calum grips his bed sheet tighter as Ashton cants his head to the side, amusement glimmering in his eyes.

"I don't think the attitude suits such a desperate slut." 

The statement fills Calum's stomach with butterflies, his hole clenching over nothing. Calum is surprised by himself, as he finds that the embarrassment just sends more zips of desire through him. Ashton's hands wraps around his hips, pulling Calum further into him. Calum groans as he feels Ashton's dick bumps against him.

Calum pushes back further as Ashton grabs his cheeks, pinching and pulling, "Don't worry princess, m'gonna give you exactly what you need." 

The sounds of the crinkling of the condom wrapper and the slick noises of Ashton lubing himself makes Calum's cock twitch in excitement. Ashton lines up behind Calum, grunting as the head catches on the rim of Calum's eager hole.

Twin moans echo in the room as Ashton pushes in. "Fuck, Calum." The combination of his name on Ashton's lips and the way that he stretches around Ashton's cock makes Calum's mouth noiselessly fall open. 

Ashton's glacial pace makes Calum whimper in frustration. He digs his hands into the bed, trying to rock back into Ashton, to get things moving. 'Try' being the key word here. Ashton's iron grip on his waist tightens, no doubt bruising his skin. 

Ashton clicks his tongue, "It's cute seeing you try, babe." Ashton stills completely, making Calum want to scream. 

"Please Ash, please move." Calum begs, forgetting dignity.

It pays off as Ashton starts moving again, only for Calum to scramble in panic when he feels Ashton pulling out. The protests dies on Calum's tongue when he still feels the tip in. Ashton's hand slithers up Calum's back, long fingers wrapping around the back of his neck, squeezing.

Ashton's hips snap forward, filling Calum up at once. He repeats it, pulling half way out before snapping forward, again and again. Calum's mind falls quieter with every roll of Ashton's hips.

All Calum can do is shout and moan, his throat getting more sore with each thrust. "S'good f'me princess." Ashton gasps between thrusts.

Calum's palms slip as Ashton continues his brutal pace, making him nearly land on his face. He finds purchase again, leaning on his elbows, his head lulling forward on the bed.

In this position, Calum is completely at Ashton's will, pliant and willing, his thoughts far away somewhere he can't reach. The only part of himself that he can comprehend is the point where Calum's body meets Ashton's.

A hand slips into Calum's hair, yanking his head up. Ashton presses up against his back, engulfing Calum completely, in a way that leaves him hot and tingling all over. The angle change makes Ashton feel that much deeper. With one more push he nails Calum's prostate head on, making him scream, "A-Ash, right there…"

His breath ghosts over the shell of Calum's ear, "S'pretty, such a — ah, such a pretty slut, all f'me," Ashton pulls back, still gripping Calum's hair, "All f'me, right?"

He gives it another tug, making Calum whimper as he tries to nod. 

"Answer me, Calum."

"Y-yeah," Calum voice sounds broken and raw with use, "'m a s-slut, all for you." Calum feels his eyes getting wetter, from the sting in his scalp. A quite sob breaks out of him.

"So pretty, almost makes me wish I could see your face properly." Ashton tuts, picking up the pace. 

The hand clutching his hair loosens, travelling lower. A pitchy whine emits from him as Ashton wraps his hand around his neglected cock.

Calum has been pent up for ages, even before they made it to him apartment. That, along with the noises that Ashton's making, the light sting whenever their bodies meet, and the feeling of being so full, Calum is so close to the edge of falling over. 

With a few tugs on his cock, timed alternatively with Ashton hitting Calum's sweet spot, Calum tips over. He feels like he's jumped off a cliff, plummeting to the ground, his stomach swooping with pleasure, and blood rushing to his ears. 

Calum slumps forward, eyes rolling to the back of his head, as he comes down from his high. Just as his his breathing regulates back to normal, Ashton starts moving again, sloppily. Calum bobs forward on the bed, wincing at the oversensitivity. It feels so good. Calum pushes back into Ashton, who's desperately chasing his own high. 

Ashton moan loudly as falls apart a few seconds later. He folds onto Calum, engulfing him entirely. Ashton's arms come to wrap around his waist, laying on top of his. The weight and warmth of the man on top of him make Calum's own body feel heavier and relaxed. They lay there for a while, melting together, sinking into the bed. The only sound in the room is of their heavy breathing.

Calum's muscles feel molten, and at the same time he feel weightless, like if it wasn't for the weight on top of him grounding him, he would fly away. A small whimper sounds from hin as Ashton pulls out carefully. Once he moves off of him, Calum uses his new found space to stretch his limbs, fingers and toes curling as he relishes in the pleasurable soreness that remains. He promptly falls back on the bed, ready to roll over and fall asleep for a long, long tie.

The rustling makes him crack an eye open, following Ashton as he cleans up. He watches as Ashton disposes off the condom, wipes Calum and himself down, before walking back into Calum's bathroom.

Unwelcome doubt starts creeping in, poisoning Calum's bliss. His eyes sting, as he watches Ashton come back into the room, looking for his clothes.

"You're leaving?" 

Ashton looks up, pulling his boxers up. He tilts his head, a questioning look. He walks closer to the bed, now towering over Calum, "Do you want me to?"

Calum's hand reaches for his wrist, "Stay."

Ashton's lips turn into his dimpled smile, one that Calum's finding himself more endeared as the moment carries on.

_

Calum forgot to turn off his fucking alarm. He usually doesn't mind, but this was probably one of the best sleeps he's got in his life. So fuck his alarm. 

He cranes is neck a bit to search for his phone. It's still in his jeans' pocket. Calum moves to get up, but is stopped by the arm around his waist. Looking to his side, he finds Ashton, sound asleep, snoring lightly. Calum's teeth feel too big for his mouth as he presses them together, containing his smile.

Calum cautiously removes himself from under Ashton's arm, stepping out of bed on one foot, quickly fishing his ringing phone out of the pocket. 

Sliding the button across the screen, Calum places himself back in bed, groaning, feeling sore from last night. He looks contemplatively at Ashton's arm. Should he? Maybe… Calum looks back at the phone in his hand

A notification catches his eye.

in gitis

the red one: heeeyyy, how was the dicking down?

lukey: Congrats on replacing your head in your ass 

lukey: with ash's cock

you: I hate both of you.

you: So much.

the red one: anywaysss

the red one: soo 

lukey: Rate on a scale of 1-10

you: I'm not gonna do that

The movement next to him draws Calum's attention away from his phone. Ashton replaces his arm around Calum, pulling himself closer. Calum notices tilts his head to get a better view of his face.

Ashton offers him a small smile, "Is that the guys?"

Calum nods with a chuckle.

"Are they gloating?"

"Something like that," Calum shows him that morning's texts, carefully shielding any previous texts.

Ashton squints at the screen, bursting into bright laughter when he's done reading. Calum melts a little at the sound, this time unable to keep the smile off his face.

Calum has a lot to wrap his head around, there are so many answers he needs to give himself. At this moment however, Calum is glad to just comfortably lay here: In silence, staring at his ceiling, laying next to Ashton.

"I went on that blind date because Luke and Michael would always talk about you." Ashton says. 

Calum looks at the brunet, eyes widening momentarily in surprise. 

"I wasn't making up the 'curious about you' thing y'know. It's kinda inevitable to be friends with Luke and Michael, and not hear about you constantly," Hazel eyes meet his own, "And then one day out of no where they said "y'know our best friend, yeah Calum, yeah, you guys should totally date, you guys are kinda meant to be." " 

Calum chuckles at Ashton's impression of Michael. When he sobers he finds Ashton looking at him, an indecipherable look on him. With a sigh, Calum says, "I'm sorry about that day,"— Calum thins his lips— "chances are I may act like an ass again."

"At least, I have a warning now."

Calum looks at him disbelieving, "So you wanna start over?"

"No," Calum's heart drops as he hears the single word come out of Ashton's mouth. Ashton raises his eyebrows, continuing, "Whatever this was, was fun, I think we can move forward." He ends with a quirk of his shoulders.

Calum presses his lips together so that he doesn't grin like a binding idiot, "I can work with that."

Ashton slips his hand into Calum, "You want to give this a chance for real?"

"Your dick has single-handed ly changed my life, I kinda have to." Calum says, squeezing Ashton's hands. 

Calum chest swells with pride as they sink into bed again, falling into laughter.

Ashton leans over, joining their lips together. The kiss is so different than any that they've shared up till now now, it's so warm and sweet it makes his cheeks burn and his teeth ache.

God bless Calum's meddling friends.

Michael looks up at the pale brown board with ‘Bittersweet’ scrawled in bold stylised letters, before looking back at his phone to check the time. He is waiting for Luke outside the cafe, that Luke suggested, and he’s not here yet. For once, Michael’s on time, and Michael is starting to understand the kind of power this gives him. He should start doing this more often.

He squints up from his phone to see a Luke-shaped blob getting closer. Luke stops in front of him, hands on his knees, panting, “Sorr” – huff –”Sorry.”

Michael drags Luke by his shoulder and pushes the door open. “C’mon, I’m fucking hungry.” 

Walking up to the counter, Michael takes in the interior of the place. The dark beige walls give the place a deep and warm look. The oranges, reds, yellows, and blues of the mismatched furniture, should look messy, yet it looks more like organised chaos, giving the place a homey feel. It isn’t too crowded for a Sunday afternoon, something Michael really appreciates. It means that Luke and Michael’s deranged chatter is not going to bother too many people.

Michael’s eyes scan the menu above the counter, down to where he can see a barista working on a drink, until they finally land on the man behind the counter. Oh.

Michael feels his stomach swoop at the sight of the man. He makes an effort for his eyes to not comically bulge out of his head. Black curls fall on his forehead, just above his eyebrows. Michael has never had much of an opinion on people’s eyebrows, but this man definitely has an impressive pair of them. Next are his eyes, dark and full of mirth. The way they look at Michael makes his fingers tingle.

Honest to god, Michael has never ever had such an intense reaction to just looking at a person, but this man does that to him. The way that the man’s t-shirt fits him is actually just unfair, clinging to him to show off the definition of his strong shoulders, his pecs, and biceps. Michael’s gaze trails down to where his hands are resting on the counter. His hands. 

Does he have a thing for hands? Who fucking knows? But he definitely has a thing for this man’s hands. He should look away right now before he has some insane thoughts, like how he wants the hands to imprint on his skin, or how he wants those knuckles–

“What can I get for ya?”

The man’s plush and soft lips shape the words. It takes a second for Michael to process that the words were directed towards him. 

“Uh”, he blinks, all the thoughts that Michael was having previously poured out of his ears to make space for Michael to register the tone, texture, and timbre of his voice. Michael doesn’t mean to take a sharp inhale to compose himself, but he would have most definitely screeched and fell to the ground if he hadn’t.

Realisation hits. Michael had just spent multiple minutes ogling this man. And the man definitely caught him, judging by the simper on his face. His head tilts to the side slightly, reminding Michael that he needs to order. 

Luke, the asshole, watched all of this with his lips pressed between his teeth, cheeks dimpling in an effort to not snigger, like a rat. Finally, he steps in, “Can I get a mocha for him and a peach iced tea for me?”

The Barista, as Michael has named him in his head, and Luke, exchange a few more words, Luke reciting their order, but Michael’s too focused on not acting like a creep with a staring problem. He catches the last bit of it however.

The Barista presses a few buttons on the screen in front of him, “Okay a mocha and peach iced tea for Luke and his,” –he pauses, eyes slowly sweeping over Michael, –“friend?”

“Yup,” Luke says, popping the ‘p’, a cheesy grin on his face.

As they turn away from the counter, finding a seat for themselves, Luke starts, “Sooo, the barista’s cute, what do you think?”

Michael groans out loud, “Oh my god, I need to die.” His hands cover his face, and he can feel the searing temperature of his skin.

Luke of course is giggling at Michael’s crisis. Michael looks at his friend, a pathetic look on his face, “Can we talk about something else?”

Luke gives him one last knowing smile before moving on to a different topic. Michael’s kind of masochistic, and Luke loves to see him suffer, some best friend, because they had wordlessly picked a table that gave Michael a direct view of The Barista. Every time he took a sip of his coffee, Michael would take a peek at the beautiful stranger. The rich bittersweet chocolate stayed on his tongue, heavily, sparking a current of excitement in Michael with every taste. It definitely wasn’t because The Barista would be looking back at him whenever Michael’s eyes would drift over to him.

__

Michael and Luke are walking down the front stairs of the school, Luke’s telling him about his day, something about a short story that a fourth grader had written that had really impressed Luke. On any other day, Luke would have Michael’s rapt attention. Michael and Luke had started teaching at the school immediately after they each got their qualifications to do so, for all the noble reasons of shaping young minds, and giving them the support that they needed, and what not.

However, and Michael feels deep shame about this, believe him, he hasn’t had the brain capacity to think about anyone or anything else other than The Barista since they went to the cafe yesterday.

Michael figured out, after looking Bitersweet up last night, that the cafe was only a fifteen minute walk from the school. This had given him a stupid, terrible, absolutely horrible idea. He looks at his best friend, already predicting what the blond would say when Michael springs the suggestion. Probably something like “Aww, Michael has a cruuuush.” or “Mikey boy’s in looove.”

He hesitates before he says, “Do you wanna get coffee?”

Luke raises an eyebrow, “Oh? We could have gotten some in the break room?”

Michael looks away, “I mean proper coffee.”

Luke’s smirking now, “Proper coffee? Like at a cafe? With a particular barista?”

“...”

“Aww, Mikey boy’s got a crush.” Close enough.

“Shut up.”

__

“Can you please go order?” Michael begs Luke, big pleading eyes, hands joined together, the fucking works. The cafe is almost empty save for a woman sitting in the corner, aggressively typing away at her laptop. Michael was hoping to go unnoticed, but The Barista flashed them a blinding smile and made a small wave the moment they walked in. And now Luke and Michael were here, hunched over the same table as yesterday, whispering furiously about who’s gonna go give their order. Well it’s not much of an order.

Luke frowns, looking absolutely horrendous by the way, “If we are here, because you wanted to see him, what's that gotta do with me?”

“But I don’t wanna talk to him.”

“Well okay, creep. I’m not going.”

“Me neither.”

“Great, we’ll just sit here then, doin’ nothing.” Luke breaks off with a petulant huff, crossing his arms and turning his face away. Michael mirrors him. 

After a few moments Michael turns his head back. Luke hasn’t budged.

“Fine.” Michael says, getting up from the table. 

The momentum that bickering with Luke had given him comes to a halt as Michael is face-to-face with The Barista again. He’s smiling at him, and Micahel can already feel his tongue becoming too big for his mouth. Michael swallows harshly, trying to remind himself that he’s ordered a coffee before.

“Uh, hi, um, I would like a, uh.” Someone needs to shoot Michael right now. No one in the history of ever has stumbled over themselves the way Michael’s doing it at this fucking moment. He is kind of a revolutionary like that.

Michael thinks that if his face gets any hotter his skin is going to start melting. It’s not that Michael can’t think of the words he needs to say, it’s just that The Barista is maintaining unblinking eye contact, so every time, even though Michael sounds out words in his head, his lack of breath cuts them short as they try to exit his lips. Michael is so close to starting to hiccup. What is this guy doing to him?

What’s worse is that The Barista definitely thinks that Michael’s an idiot, with the way that he is holding his breath, trying to not outright laugh in Michael’s face. How nice of him. Michael wouldn’t have held it in if he was in the other man’s shoes. Maybe this is divine retribution for being an asshole.

Michael braves another attempt, “Sorry, yeah, I would like a..”

The other man nods his head along, signalling Michael to keep going, “A mocha?”

“Yes! I mean, yes a mocha, and a latte.”

The Barista laughs to himself, eyes squinting. Wow. 

“Can I get your name and number?” Michael’s heart rate does a remarkable jump up. This is all happening so fast, he doesn’t even know The Barista’s name, he’s not ready for this. Is this a prank? Did Luke do this? Michael has made a complete fool of himself in front of this guy, no way he’s asking Michael out. 

“For your bill.” The Barista adds unsurely as Michael continues to have the most headless chicken sprint of thoughts. 

Michael’s head stops buffering to understand the situation. The Barista is asking for Michael's name and number to put on his bill. Right. The usual thing to happen at a coffee shop when you order something. “Um, Michael,” he stutters out his number after that, repeating the numbers, and then rattling the digits again in one breath. 

“Okay, Michael,” the man draws out the syllables of his name, “I will get your drinks in sometime.” Michael makes a very important life decision right now at this moment. Michael is going to come to this cafe everyday for the rest of his life so that he can hear this man say his name just once.

Michael is suddenly keenly aware that he and The Basrista have just been standing there for the past few moments, unmoving. Their unprompted staring match is interrupted when Michael hears a screeching noise. Their heads snap to the origin of the agitating sound, at the other end of the counter.

It’s Luke, giggling, giggling at something a man is telling him, a man who is leaning so close to Luke that he’s damn near whispering in his ears. What the fuck?

Michael realises that this is the other barista, who Michael may or may not have completely missed out on noticing, because he’s too busy making a fool of himself in front of this one.

Michael watches the scene in front of him with hilarity, this is fucking hilarious to him. Luke is actually batting his eyelashes at this man. And that button was definitely not undone when they had walked in.

“Ash, quit fuckin’ flirting, I don’t pay you to do that.” The Barista hollers at his coworker.

The man, Ash, flips him off, not even sparing him a glance, “Should’ve stopped at the part where you don’t pay me, bossman.”

Michael sniggers at the man’s cocky reply, falling into laughter when he notices that Luke seems to sigh dreamily. This is gold.

The Barista looks at Michael apologetically. “I’m sorry for him.”

Michael just smiles, shaking his head. Then the other man offers Michael his hand. Michael accepts the handshake, schooling his expression to hide the four-hundered-and-forty volt current he felt at the contact.

“I’m Calum.”

__

Calum.

Safe to say that Michael has stopped being a functioning part of society since he has met Calum. Calum is always on his mind.

Michael wakes up thinking about Calum’s eyes. The colour of them. Michael spends all of his shower and breakfast thinking about what else resembles the warm brown colour of them. A cup of coffee is the most obvious answer, but as Michael sips his morning coffee, he notes that coffee has never energised Michael the way a quick second of Calum’s eyes on him do.

Between classes, Michael thinks about Calum’s voice. About how his voice sounds like a melody to Michael that he can never recreate with any instrument.

At night, Michael stays awake, with a deep ache in his chest as he craves the shape of Calum’s hands. Michael feels a strange heat crawling, like an overgrown vine, writhing all over his body as he recalls the length of his fingers. Michael’s not been much of a biology student, he’s teaching music for a reason, but Michael could give a lecture on the muscles, tendons and bones in Calum’s hands with the way he has watched them move, every tick and spasm. 

Luke and Michael have been visiting Bittersweet everyday for weeks. On weekdays, after school, and during lunch on weekends. This may not be financially sound, but Michael has already established that he is not of sound mind at the moment.

Everyday Michael and Calum exchange a few glances, an order is placed, a question about ‘How was your day?’ a few more words here and there. Those few words have helped them exchange a few facts about each other. Facts like Calum’s full name is Calum Hood, he and Ashton actually own the coffee shop, they work there because they love being in the shop, Calum has an older sister, and that he’s a dog person, but doesn’t mind cats.

Despite days of getting to know bits and pieces about Calum, getting more familiar with him, Michael still manages to punctuate each of the words with a stutter. But who wouldn’t react that way to Calum?

Which is the only thought that stops Michael from saying more than a few words. Calum is definitely used to this attention. Michael has himself witnessed people react similarly to Michael when faced by the phenomenon that is Calum Hood. And Calum is polite each time, ignoring and refusing the lingering glances, a suggestive hand placed on his own, even the outright proposal this one time. 

So of course, even with Michael’s very clear, big and embarrassing crush, Calum’s being nice to him. His customer. They share amused looks, like an inside joke, whenever Luke and Ashton flirt at the other end of the counter, but that’s just two people showing exasperation as their respective best friends eye-fuck each other. And that’s it.

It doesn’t help the pang in his chest, the way breathing gets difficult when he thinks to himself that this is nothing more than Calum being courteous about Michael’s obvious feelings towards him.

Even as Calum overwhelms him, Michael wonders what it would be like to hold a conversation with Calum where Michael is sure of himself, so that he can get to know the man more intimately, like he has started to desire in the past few weeks.

__

During music class today, one of the guitars in Ms. Roy’s section fell apart in two. Tragic, but understandable, considering that the guitar had been subjected to about seventeen years of elementary school students with grabby hands and a penchant for dropping things.

However, that marked the third instrument that had broken down in this school term. The head of the music department, a department consisting of two faculty members in total, including Michael, had added a few new tasks on their list of agendas for this Friday afternoon: 1) inspecting the music instruments, 2) figuring out how many new instruments were required to replace them, and 3) writing up a proposal to present to the school administration for the same. The urgency of these tasks being completed by this evening had been thoroughly stressed to Michael.

For the thirty-forty odd instruments in the music room, this would require barely any time, given that the entire department of two (2) people did the work together. But unfortunately, Ms. Roy had an emergency regarding a bicycle, and was unable to join Michael after school to help.

Now, Michael doesn’t want to be a dick by assuming anything about the nature, authenticity, or timing of Ms. Roy’s said emergency, but there are a few facts to be considered here: 1) Ms. Roy is the Head of Department, and 2) She’s never really liked Michael.

So Michael stays back. He might not like the circumstances of how this is happening, but Michael had been hoping that he could get new instruments for his students for a while now. So even though Ms. Roy may have dumped this on Michael all at once, he carefully inspects each instrument, thinking of what it would mean for his students and their experience in his class.

Luke stops by the music room, catching Michael hunched over strumming the rusty string of a guitar. 

“I’m starting to believe you when you said that Ms. Roy doesn’t like you.” Luke says, faux-pity on his face.

Michael scoffs, “If you were a good friend you would have believed me already.”

“You caught me, I have been-“ Luke’s interrupted by the string snapping apart. That sets the blond off, he’s clutching his side, laughing shrill and annoying, as if Michael’s plight is the peak of comedy. 

“Luke, do you think this string is sharp enough to take off your head?” 

The younger man straightens himself, “So quick with the death threats, geez.”

“Why are you here, kicking me while I’m down?” Michael says, he wants to get back to work and get done with it.

“I was gonna wait for you to finish up so we could get coffee.” Luke says, taking a seat.

Michael looks around him, there’s no way he’s getting done with this anytime soon. Michael’s heart gives a squeeze. He’s not going to be able to see Calum today. Michael feels an ache in his temple. He sighs trying to let it out, why’s he getting stressed out about this?

“Dude, I have like at least two hours of work left.” Michael tosses Luke his flask, “There’s some coffee in that, if you want it.”

Luke catches it before it hits him in the face, a disgruntled look, “I mean proper coffee.”

Michael’s face cracks into a huge grin as he remembers a similar conversation they had a few months ago, “Proper coffee? Like at a cafe? With a particular barista?”

Luke throws his head back laughing. “Dude.”

Michael nods at him, “You can go if you want to. Also why haven’t you asked Ashton out yet?”

Luke gets up heading towards the door. He has that look about him that tells Michael that he’s going to say something that only Luke understands. “I’m not making the first move, I can’t lose just yet.”

“That’s so fucking childish.”

Luke creeps closer to the door, ready for escape. Oh the little bastard. 

“At least I can string more than three words when I see him.” And Luke disappears out the door before the pen in Michael’s hand hits him.

“LUCAS FUCKING HEMMINGS!”

“LOVE YOU!” echoes through the hallway in Luke’s pitchy-ass voice.

Michael groans as he gets up to get his pen back. Michael made a big mistake in middle school by befriending Luke, and he’s still paying for it with his tolerance and sanity.

__

Michael is deep in calculation when his phone dings. He rolls his eyes when he sees it’s a text from Luke.

bitch boy: Your boy was asking for you

you: shut up

you: kys

you: not my boy

bitch boy: Whatever 

bitch boy: His shift ends in an hour and half

bitch boy: Go see him

you: no.

you: i can go 1 day wo seeing calum

you: that’d be weird

bitch boy: It’s only weird if you make it weird

you: im not going

_

Michael is standing in front of Bittersweet. The text from Luke may have kicked Michael into high speed. His work was done. And so he’s here, as pat on the back, a sweet treat. Michael doesn’t know if by treat he means the chocolate sweetened coffee, or getting to see Calum.

Walking in, the smell of coffee invades his senses. When Calum spots him, the greeting is immediate, “Michael!”

Michael’s heart jumps at the acknowledgement, feet carrying him to Calum before he knows it. He’s about to greet Calum back when the other man blurts out, “Can you wait for fifteen minutes?”

Caught off guard, Michael replies, “Um, yeah sure. What for?”

“My shift gets over then, I’ll get you your coffee, and maybe we could, talk?” Calum says, words smushed together in a hurry.

Michael bites his lip, containing his smile. It still slips out as he nods, “Okay.”

Michael finds a seat for himself. Calum wants to talk to Michael. Doesn’t have to mean anything, they will just talk. Because they are friends, in some sense of the word. Except Michael wishes that he’s wrong. He sits there, watching as Calum disappears into the ‘Staff Only’ section in the back. Michael is literally left twiddling his thumbs. The pit in his stomach gets deeper no matter how much he tries to make it go away. A part of him is really glad to spend more time with Calum, in any capacity. The other bit is the problem. The bit that hopes that this means something more than a friendly chat.

Calum appears back, a denim jacket over his t-shirt. He tells Ashton something, which makes the other man grin and look over to where Michael is sitting. Calum gets on the other side of the counter, with two coffee cups in his hands.

“Do y’wanna sit outside?” Calum asks, head tilting to the bench outside the cafe. Michael takes the cup that Calum offers him, “Sure.”

__

Michael had thought that the conversation would die out immediately, given his inability to speak around Calum. He is surprised to find that the actual situation is quite the opposite. Calum is really easy to talk to. 

Michael had never understood what that meant, or if a person like that could actually exist, because Michael has always found people difficult to talk to, no matter what Michael’s own talking capacity is around that person. He could talk for hours on end, or be completely silent, but it’s always what the other person gives him. And most of the time that’s not much.

But Calum was giving him everything. He had all of Calum’s attention, even as Michael kept messing up his words, and corrected himself. In turn, Calum tells Michael about himself, not shying away, and Michael drinks it all up. Michael raises his cup to his lips again, to take a sip, only to find that his cup is empty.

“So how did you two end up opening a cafe?” Michael asks.

Calum looks over to the shop, a small reminiscent smile appears on his face before he replies. ”In college, Ashton and I used to live in this rented flat, and the owners of that flat, a very sweet old couple, Mr. and Mrs. Pereira, also owned this coffee shop. When we were struggling with money, they gave us the option to work here as payment, and yeah, we didn’t realise but that was the one of the best things that happened to us.”

“After we graduated, we stopped working here, we both moved to a place closer to the city, for work and all, but we still used to visit often. One day, we found out that the Pereiras are selling the place. The shop wasn’t doing business like it used to, so they couldn’t afford it anymore.”

Michael’s eyebrows furrow as he leans forward, intrigued.

“Ash and I weren’t earning much. so we like picked up extra jobs and stuff, started saving up. So, we somehow managed to get a loan. We actually didn’t think about it a lot, we just knew that we couldn’t let this place go.”

Michael tilts his head a bit, “That sounds straight out of a story book, can’t lie.”

This gets a chuckle out of Calum. The sound warms him. 

“Okay, what about you and Luke? Y’all work together.”

Michael feels the weight of his phone in his pocket as he’s reminded of Luke. “Luke and I were in the same middle school. We actually didn’t become friends until we got to high school, I was sick of his shit when I first met him. I sill, still, am actually.”

“But he’s your best friend?”

“He is one of the very few people I can tolerate over long periods of time.”

“Am I one of those people?”

Michael opens his mouth, then he sees the teasing edge in Calum’s expression. His breath stutters and the thoughtless ‘yes’ dies on his tongue. “I guess.” He replies instead.

Calum gives Michael an assessing look, eyes studying Michael. If he looks too hard he’ll be able to look through Michael.

Michael can’t believe he hasn’t known Calum his whole life. When he tries to fill in the gaps of information about the other man, of course he can believe that he doesn’t actually know the man, but please try to forgive his words, and understand the sentiment. Michael doesn’t know how else to explain this. He has definitely never felt like this before, he can’t find a way to explain how he already feels so familiar with Calum.

The yellow glow of the lamp lights cast shadows on Calum's face as he talks. Lamp lights? 

It can’t be dark already, there’s no way they spent that much time on this bench. Michael subtly tries to check the time on his phone, not wanting to interrupt Calum. It shouldn't be this dark at this time, but Michael doesn't want to look away from Calum to investigate further.

The first raindrop wouldn’t have caught him off guard if he had. Grey clouds blocked out whatever was left of the weak light of dawn. Calum looks up at the sky, enjoying the light drizzling, a small joyous laugh erupting from his chest. 

“My car is parked down the street, I could drop you home?” Calum offers.

Michael’s heartbeat picks up at the thought of being in an enclosed space with Calum. The unsurety that he feels is completely overshadowed by the tiny hopeful look on Calum’s face, he has to agree.

They get up from the bench, walking side-by-side, arms brushing slightly. Despite the layers of clothes, and said clothes getting progressively wetter in the rain, the unintentional contact feels really intense. They walk in silence, Michael’s eyes don’t know where to look, his breath comes out in huffs with each slow step they take towards the car. As he tries to control his erratic breathing, he bumps into Calum again, losing all progress.

It’s like the rain gods had decided that it was time that they hurry along, as the downpour begins.

“My car is right there,” Calum points, raising his voice to be heard over the splattering rain. They jog to the spot, getting completely drenched. They get in the car, catching their breath. Once they've cooled down, they’re left looking at each other. Calum and Michael break out into loud laughter. Michael’s smile starts hurting as he watches Calum laugh himself silly. 

Michael’s overshirt was clinging to him, and it was starting to feel constricting. He decides he doesn’t want to catch a cold and shrugs it off, leaving him in a button up shirt. He looks to Calum to find the other man looking. The intensity of the stare throws him off, he hugs his arms self consciously. Calum’s eyes follow the movement too.

Without breaking eye contact, Calum reaches for his own jacket, peeling it off carefully. Michael’s breath stutters as Calum’s only left in a tight and wet t-shirt. The half sleeves wrap around Calum’s biceps, and Michael can feel the blood rushing away from his brain.

The conversation and laughter had been washed away with the rain, now sitting in this car, a thick layer of tension taking its place. Calum breaks the heavy silence with a question. “Do you want to come over to my place?”

“Yes.” 

__

Michael watches the way Calum’s rain soaked t-shirt clings to his shoulder, his chest. Drops of water drip from his hair at the back of his neck, trailing down the curve leisurely. Michael has the overwhelming urge to follow the raindrop with his tongue.

Michael had stopped paying attention to the road a while ago, his eyes looking out at the road, but not really taking anything in, eyes following the raindrops on the window instead. His hands are balled in fists in his lap, so that he doesn’t reach out for the strand of wet hair that’s flopping on Calum’s forehead. A hum from the other man pulls Michael’s attention away from the mindless staring.

Calum is worrying his bottom lip in between his teeth, his focus on the road. His eyebrows furrowed, as he is looking for something. Michael finally turns to see where they are headed. A parking lot. 

They pull into a spot in the mostly empty parking lot. Michael watches Calum’s hand twist the keys, turning off the engine. The intent in his eyes is not missed by Michael as he turns to face him. The brunet’s eyes roam Michael’s face, stopping at his lips. Michael watched Calum lick his own lips. No one moves, Michael feels stuck. The car could catch on fire, and Michael wouldn’t be able to lift a finger.

“Michael,” Calum whispers. The request in the word washes over the man, raising goosebumps all over. Calum’s hand reaches around Michael’s head rest, his lip in between his teeth. He tilts his head forward, like a question, no words spoken, like he’s scared to startle Michael.

Michael lunges forward to connect their lips, sinking his fingers in wet dark hair. Calum’s giving him as good as it gets, matching Michael’s fervour. Michael wants to move forward, get closer to Calum, but the console between them doesn’t help. The groan Calum lets out as he pulls away from Michael tells him that he agrees. They scramble to the back seat of Calum’s car, their inability to keep their hands to themselves prolonging the process.

The tangle of limbs doesn't make sense to Michael, and he doesn't care to understand it. Soon Michael finds himself pressed up against Calum the way that he’s been craving. 

“Shouldn’t we g-get to your apartment?” Michael stumbles against Calum’s lips, balling his fist in his t-shirt.

“Can’t wait, I want to feel you now.” The reply punches the air out of Michael, as he feels a throb between his legs.

Calum hands reach for his waist, slipping under Michael’s shirt, the feeling of hot hands on his rain cooled skin sends a shiver through his body. Michael’s body arches towards the touch, chasing all the warmth he can get from Calum. 

He presses further into Michael’s mouth, teeth and tongues clashing. His hands travel to the crook between Michael’s neck and shoulder. His thumb rubs the bit of skin above the collar. Michael feels a bubbling in his chest, a fire starting at every point of contact. The rippling underneath his skin sends a moan out of his mouth, originating in his chest, echoing between their mouths.

The dark-haired man pulls away. Michael tries to chase his lips, but Calum’s hand maintains the distance between them. Calum makes an amused sound at the other man’s eagerness, and Michael feels his face get even hotter.

“What do you want?” Calum asks, a rasp more than anything. The tone and question makes Michael shiver. There’s so much that he wants. But, priorities exist.

“Your hands.” Michael’s voice shakes with those two words. 

Calum gives him a sly look, “I kinda need them actually.” Michael’s brain skips a beat, stopping to process what Calum just said. Michael groans when he catches up, “Fuck off.”

Michael attempts at a disgruntled expression, but he’s melting as he watches Calum laugh at his own joke. Being honest to himself, Michael is glad for this moment of levity. It reminds him who he’s with, giving him something tangible, so he knows that this is real.

When the laughter settles, Calum brings his hand to hold Michael’s face,  Michael leans into the touch. The heated look on Calum sends another shiver through Michael’s body. At least he can blame his wet clothes.

“Okay, no joke, tell me,” Calum says, thumb mapping out Michael’s cheekbone. Weeks of wanting had pent up in Michael, now he can finally say it out loud, “I want your hands on me, in me.”

The thumb on his cheek swipes at the wetness of Michael’s lower lip, “I got you.” A promise.

Calum adjusts his hand, holding Michael’s chin, urging him to open up. Calum’s thumb presses into his lip, pushing further, snagging on his teeth. Michael flicks his tongue at tip, and Calum uses the moment to push it back into place. 

Michael lets out a mewl, saliva pooling in his mouth. He forces a harsh breath through his nose, the air in his lungs was starting to heat up, becoming too big for his chest, making Michael feel lighter by the second. Michael scrambles to hold onto Calum’s wrist, trying to ground himself. 

His eyes look up to Calum. His heart gives a jolt at what sees, his pulse flutters in his throat as he watches Calum, watching him. Calum seems to be assessing him, like he’s trying to figure out what he’s looking at, and what he should do next, what he should do to Michael. And the sight of it is making Michael reel.

Michael whines when Calum removes his hand. He watches the string of saliva connecting his lip and Calum’s hand, stomach swooping. With a tilt of his lips, Calum grabs Michael’s collar, crashing their mouths together again. The kiss is frantic, and deeper, Calum’s tongue sweeping, exploring. A hand is placed next to Michael’s head, as Calum pushes Michael lower, until his back is flat against the backseat. 

Calum’s lips travel lower, placing kisses on Michael’s chin, his Adam's apple, neck and shoulder. Calum’s nimble fingers play with the buttons on his shirt. With each button that Calum opens, the tingling in Michael’s head increases in intensity. Their mouths are still joined, but they stopped kissing a while ago, just exchanging exhales now. 

Pulling away, Calum raises himself, head bumping into the roof of the car. His hands push Michael’s shirt off his shoulders. The hands lightly trace Michael’s torso. Calum is looking down at him with such hunger, it makes Michael’s toes curl. Hands back on Michael’s neck, a smirk pulls at Calum’s lips, his hands applying more pressure now, like he’s trying to figure out the shape of the muscles moving under the skin. His thumbs press at his Adam’s apple, the slight constriction of oxygen makes Michael’s eyelids flutter.

Michael wants to be here for all of time, under Calum’s demanding hands. His stomach quivers, a tremor forming under Michael’s surface, his hands shaking, as he grips the seat under him. Michael can feel his underwear getting wetter every dip and dig that Calum’s fingertips makes into his skin. Michael’s head trips backwards, eyes closing, he’s lost cognition to form words, only capable of small sounds. 

A loud broken moan resonates from Michael’s lips as Calum flicks the hard nubs of his nipples. Calum chuckles to himself, shaking his head at how responsive Michael is to the simple touch. Lowering himself again, lips hot and soft, roam the planes of Michael’s chest, while hands continue their ministrations. Calum puts his mouth on one of Michael’s nipples, grazing his teeth, sucking. This draws another whine out of Michael. 

Calum continues his examination for what feels like hours. Yeah, examination would be the right word. Calum inspects every inch of skin he can reach, with his lips, tongue and teeth, just to test what sounds he can get out of Michael, what makes his hands spasm, what makes them dig into Calum’s back. Then he cross checks with his fingers and nails, seeing if there is any correlation between the pressure he applies on the blooming bruises and how loudly Michael says his name.

Michael feels the simmering heat in his body, his legs shake with it, it’s throbbing in between his legs. The twisting in his guts is making him stupid, a sigh and a giggle escapes him. His fingers twist in Calum’s t-shirt, a vice grip, because if he lets go, the dam behind his eyes will break. Calum’s breath ghosts over his neck as he takes a bite. Michael lets out a shaking cry of his name, tugging Calum’s hair. The sweet pain stokes the flames in his gut.

Finally letting up, Calum looks down at Michael, admiring his handiwork on Michael’s neck and torso. “You look s’pretty, all marked up, Mikey.” His words slur like he’s drunk, and Michael feels a little high himself, so he can’t blame him.

Calum runs his hands down Michael’s chest again, grabbing his waist, rolling their hips together. God, Michael’s so on edge. Their erections line up, pressed together almost just right. Michael pushes back, hoping for friction. Something needs to happen very quickly or Michael’s gonna start ripping out his and Calum’s hair.

“Tsk, so impatient, give me a fuckin’ sec baby.” Calum says.

“Calum if you don’t hurry up and do something I’m gonna get out of this car and walk home.” Michael squirms, his voice sounding rawer than he expected.

In a swift move, Calum pulls Michael's jeans down. Michael lets out a gasp as he feels the cold air on his newly exposed skin.

”Wouldn’t want pretty boy to catch a cold, now would we?” Calum says, placing his hands on either side of Michael’s head, hips raising up. 

Michael’s kind of sick of him actually, "Please shut up.” He raises himself up, balancing on his hips to sit up, grabbing Calum’s shirt and pulling him into a kiss. He feels Calum’s shoulders shaking, and a laugh against his lips. 

They separate, panting a bit. Michael tugs at the bottom of Calum’s t-shirt. Calum slips it off before leaning back, hand reaching in the side compartment of the door, retrieving a tiny bottle of lube.

Michael raises an eyebrow. Calum gives him a sheepish grin, “I like to be prepared.” Before Michael can comment on Calum’s Boy Scout behaviour, Calum silences him with a kiss.

He sits back on his knees, bending a bit, “Do you still want this?”

Michael wants to grab Calum’s shoulder and shake him. Does he think the bulge in Michael’s boxers is a joke? He resorts to saying, “Thanks for the consideration Cal, but if you don’t put your fingers in me, promptly, I’m going to start crying.”

”I mean you’re gonna do that anyways.” Calum says, a new edge in his words. He then drags Michael’s jeans and boxer all the way off without any preamble. There’s a drop in Michael’s stomach as Calum pulls him by the back of his knees, so that he’s lying down again, legs around Calum’s waist.

Michael watches as Calum generously pours lube on his fingers, the anticipation dancing in the centre of Michael’s chest. Michael has spent so much time looking. All the nights that Michael’s laid in bed by himself, falling asleep with a gasp of Calum’s name and disappointment, wishing for this exact to be in this exact position. All that craving makes the first press of Calum’s finger on his rim feel like a dream. 

Calum is slow with it, easing a finger into Michael, digit by digit, grunting slightly at the tightness. He wriggles the finger a bit, making Michael squeak. Michael throws a hand on his mouth. With a playful  grin, Calum tugs his hand away, “No, I wanna hear.” Calum then starts moving his finger around, finger pressing in every corner that Michael has never even known existed.

The tremor under Michael’s skin scales up, the heat licking up from the base of his spine, all the way to the back of his head. “More”, Michael’s voice breaks. Calum nods, pecking Michael’s lips. 

Calum presses up two fingers inside, the stretch tightening the coil in Michael’s gut. There’s a precision in the way that Calum works them in and out of Michael. Michael’s eyelids get heavier, slipping close. He would love to see the wonderment on Calum’s face, the wild spark burning in his dark eyes, but Michael knows that this would all be over immediately if he does.

Michael makes a pathetic noise when Calum twists his fingers in a way that tells Michael that he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Michael,” Calum says, an urgent desperation in his voice, “Michael, look at me baby.” The last word gets lost in a whisper, heavy with need. Michael can’t help but listen, he’s asking so nicely. Michael forces his eyes open. The moment their eyes meet Michael gets a rush of dizziness. He watches as Calum’s eyes keep drifting between his own, and the place where his fingers disappear into Michael.

“One more please,” Michael begs desperately, one of his legs unwrapping from Calum to spread wider. 

“Y’sure?” The question is barely a sound.

Michael nods frantically, “Yes, please, I’m so close, please-” He cuts off with a loud gasp as Calum gives him exactly what he asked for. Michael plants his feet in whatever space he can find, pushing back against Calum. Michael keens and throws his head back. 

“Oh god,” Calum croaks out, voice cracking in the middle. The only relief from the onslaught of self consciousness that Michael’s going to feel after this, is that Calum seems to sound about half as wrecked as Michael feels, so that counts for a lot.

Michael’s legs shake from the effort of pushing back on Calum’s fingers. His breath is getting shorter, and his hips are starting to lose their rhythm. Michael has been reduced to chants of Calum’s name. 

“Calum, please, touch me, please,” Michael holds onto Calum’s shoulders where he was hovering above him. Calum’s eyes narrow, a determination in them. Just then, the pads of his fingers make contact with that spot in Michael that makes everything around him quiet.

The blood rushing in his head, puts Michael in a bubble, every other sound is muffled. His body lifts off the seat, the molten feeling seeping into his entire body. His sight starts blurring in corners, as Calum skillfully massages Michael’s sweet spot. The pleasure rising in Michael like a wave, constricting his breath. All the sound that he was previously making, now completely cut off, as he struggles to breath. His entire being quakes, as the wave gets bigger and more rash.

Michael hears Calum through it all, “Breathe, baby you’re being so good for me, just breathe.” Maybe it’s the sweet instruction, or the reassuring kiss that Calum places on his neck, but the wave finally crashes. Michael’s vision turns completely dark, his body making a bow in the air as he comes in spurts in between their bodies.

The orgasm may have actually liquefied Michael’s bones and muscle, leaving him as just a pool of blood and skin. With much effort he opens his eyes and raises his hand to cup the back of Calum’s neck.

Calum’s wearing a satisfied look on his face. He definitely deserves it. “You good?”

Michael nods, “Mhmm.”

“Yeah,” Calum smiles, capturing Michael in another kiss. The pace is leisurely, with Calum sprawled all over Michael, like they can do this forever. It’s wet and lazy, Michael’s tongue tangling with Calum’s. The heat wasn’t stinging anymore, just pleasant. Coming down from his high, Michael was feeling hungrier for contact, wrapping his arms around Calum to pull their chests flush against each other. That’s when he feels something bump against his hip.

Shit.

Michael grabs Calum’s hips, placing them both in a sitting position now. His hands start to reach for Calum’s zipper when a hand stops him.

“What’s up?” Michael asks, hoping he’s not done something wrong.

“Nothing,” Calum shakes his head, “You don’t have to do this though, I can take care of it myself.”

“Well you can take care of it, in my mouth.” Michael says. The orgasm has definitely made him a little woozy and loose-lipped.

Calum splutters, “Y-You really don’t have to.” Michael turns around from where he was adjusting the driver’s seat a little further to make space for himself.

He turns to give Calum a look, before holding his chin, placing a quick kiss on his lips. “Calum,” the dark-haired man takes a sharp inhale, “trust me when I say this, this is very much for me, and not for you.”

With that, Michael manoeuvres to fit himself in the little space between the seat and Calum’s legs. He reaches for the band of Calum’s jeans, looking up to make sure it was actually okay with Calum. Calum nods, “Okay.”

Calum’s dick springs free from its confines, as Michael pulls his jeans and boxers down just enough. Michael takes it in, mouth watering a bit. He looks up to see the pink tinting Calum’s cheeks, the heady power rush going to his head. He could understand why Calum walked around so smug. 

Michael places small kisses and kitten licks on his swollen tip. He watches as Calum squirms under him, knee bouncing from being so keyed up. Michael gets lower, licking broad strips on his underside. Wrapping his lips around Calum’s head, Michael gives it a lazy suck. Michael just wants to stay there, with the taste and weight of Calum on his tongue. 

He hears Calum stifle a quite sob, fingers digging into the seat, “Michael, can you go faster please?” At the request Michael starts alternating between bobbing his head and sucking, and licking up, but not really changing his speed. He makes a particularly long swipe, from the root, stopping right below the head, tonguing at the sensitive patch there. 

Calum makes another frustrated noise then. “Please baby, I have been so good to you, please I’m just there.” Michael’s having too much fun now, he doesn’t want to stop. He still doesn’t change his pace, or what he is doing, savouring the taste. He dips his tongue in the slit, where Calum’s leaking profusely. Michael hums, sending extra stimulation up Calum’s dick.

It finally makes Calum snap, hand tugging Michael away by his hair. Michael lets out a high and breathy giggle, as he watches Calum throw his head back, eyes scrunched together in frustration. Calum lets out a guttural moan, moving his hand over his cock in quick passes. 

Michael watches in intrigue, heat pooling in his gut again, his spent cock giving a weak twitch. With a few more short strokes, Calum cums, with a high and bubbling laugh. The hot liquid hits Michael’s waiting mouth. Calum rests back against his seat, chest heaving, gasping for air, his eyes looking at the roof.

Once he’s come down, Calum leans back in, fingers swiping at whatever’s spilled over on Michael’s cheeks and chin. Michael grabs Calum's hand, swirling around his digits, carefully, cleaning it up. Michael meets Calum’s gaze, watching the amusement swimming in them as he sighs around Calum’s fingers. He pulls them out with a pop.

Michael settles himself in the seat beside Calum. The brunet looks at him for a moment. Examining him, yet again. Calum asks, “So what the fuck was that?”

Michael gives him a lazy smile, “What’d’you mean?”

Calum straightens up, “You’re usually so stutter-y, y’know, what was that? “I’m doing this for me and not for you.”” Calum finishes the last bit with air quotes.

Michael blinks slowly, a dopey smirk on his face. Michael’s head is too floaty to deem Calum with a proper answer. He pulls the other man in another kiss, making sure that Calum can taste himself on his tongue. With a hum still pressed up to Calum’s soft lips, Michael finally answers, “You kinda fingered the stutter out of me, honestly.” 

Calum breaks away, gaping at his response.  He leans into Michael’s shoulder and laughs. Michael realises he adores the sound a lot. He might go a bit crazy if he doesn’t hear it again. Michael snakes an arm around Calum’s waist. They sit there in the backseat of Calum’s car in comfortable silence. They adjust around a bit, cleaning themselves up with the tissues in the car, putting their damp clothes back on.

“Michael,” Calum whispers, once again. Even after everything they just did, the soft whisper of his name on Calum’s lips, makes his heart skip a beat. Michael is a little in awe of what Calum looks like at that moment, the raindrops sliding down the window paint streaked shadows on Calum’s face, his cheeks pink from the exertion. His pupils are still blown wide, and his plump lips are bitten and swollen.

Calum’s face contorts into an uncertain shape. It twists something in Michael. “Do you still want to come over?” Michael blinks at the question, he thought they were going anyways. He voices the same. Calum cracks a smile of relief. “Oh, okay.”

They climb back into the front seats. Michael turns over to Calum putting on his seatbelt. The brunet looks up, “Are you hungry?”

Michael lights up, “Always. How do you feel about pizza?”

“I’m always feeling up for pizza.” Calum says turning on the engine.

Lucy doesn’t have a fucking clue about why her roommate doesn’t like her.

She will agree that it might be her fault that they got off on the wrong foot. 

Lucy was having a stressful day on the day that she moved in, on top of that the landlord hadn’t told her that her roommate had already moved in until this morning. She was supposed to be here a week after Lucy. 

This was levels of social interaction she wasn’t prepared for. How was she supposed to plan out the perfect first impression for someone she was going to live with for the foreseeable future. Especially when she had no idea about what this girl was like, her landlord refused to give details.

She had opened the door, expecting to find the mysterious girl. The house was empty. Lucy had let out a sigh of relief. She headed to her room, depositing her luggage. 

Lucy walked out again to get the rest of her stuff. Her asshole friends had not been able to help her with moving that day, they had “work”. 

What that meant was that Lucy had to carry that big fucking box. She stumbled blindly, the box was obstructing her view. So technically, it wasn’t even really her fault that the box ended up pushing her roommate's mug off the kitchen counter.

“What the fuck?”

Lucy had jumped back, lowering the box to the ground to see the origin of the voice. 

Oh wow.

Her roommate was hot. 

The tank top hung loosely on her, showing off her collarbones, and her skinny jeans were basically painted on. Lucy’s eyes roamed up and down to take in the tattoos on those toned arms. All in all, Lucy liked what she saw.

Her gaze travelled up to the other girl’s face, taking in the bold eyeliner, and, oh god, her eyebrow piercing. Lucy only took in her expression after a few seconds of staring the girl in the face. The pierced eyebrow was raised and the eyeliner framed eyes were narrowed at her in indignation.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, I couldn’t see anything with the box in my hands, I’m so, so sorry I completely missed your mug.”

The other girl just made a disgruntled noise. This was going horribly.

“I’m Lucy, by the way, your roommate,” Lucy trailed off unsurely.

“I know,” followed by an eyeroll. 

Lucy wanted to shrivel up and die.

“I didn’t get your name, Mrs. Ashley didn’t mention anything about you.” Lucy cringed internally.

“I had asked her not to,” the green haired girl shrugged. She quickly looked Lucy up and down. Wishful thinking had Lucy hoping that there was some appreciation in her eyes.

Lucy tilted her head, hoping to convey that she hadn’t really been answered.

With another huff the girl said, “It’s Mikey,” before she turned around to clean up the broken glass.

Lucy scrambled to her room with the box.

—

Two weeks after moving in, Lucy was finally settled in. Settled in enough to invite her friends to her apartment instead of going over to theirs.

Calum and Lucy were just fucking around on the sofa, each of them laying their heads on either arm rests, legs tangled in the middle as they scrolled on their phones. Ashton had abandoned them to go on a hike. A very likely thing for him to do. 

Calum nudged his leg against her thigh, which led her to customarily smack him. From there on it devolved into a slap fight. A particularly smacking slap across her neck had forced a squeal out of Lucy.

Unfortunately, that was the exact moment that Mikey decided to open the front door.

Lucy flushed down to her chest, and the smack had nothing to do with it. She immediately straightened herself, getting away from Calum.

Mikey was frozen before them, until she got back to her senses, giving them a disgusted look, “Can you please not fuck on the sofa?”

Calum let out a snort, which he tried to disguise as a cough as Lucy flashed him a warning look. Lucy tried to save her face in front of her roommate, “We weren’t-”

“I don’t care what you get up to with your boyfriend, just don’t do it in our shared space,” her eyes rolled again.

Her eyes were gonna fall out at this point.

Mikey dragged her feet, getting back to her room, meanwhile Lucy was left doing her best impression of a fish.

As soon as Mikey was out of the room, Calum turned to Lucy, mouthing, “Boyfriend”, making kissy faces at her.

Lucy had smacked him across the face for that.

—

Lucy was lounging on her bed, when there was a knock on her door.

“Come in!”

Mikey opened her door wide, leaning against it with her arms crossed. She had the same bored look on her face she’s had anytime she's interacted with Lucy in the past month.

“Are you missing anything?”

“Umm, no?”

Mikey’s eyes did a quick sweep of her room, which was a mess, with clothes and books strewn all over the place. She just raised her pierced eyebrow giving Lucy a look. 

Lucy suppressed a shudder, damn, that thing was really getting to her.

“Are you sure?” Mikey said as she pulled a piece of garment from her back pocket.

Lucy’s eyes widened in recognition, the lacy piece of fabric were the panties from her favourite pair. That explained why she couldn’t find them.

She let out an awkward giggle, “Where did you find them?”

“On the sofa, can you make sure that your laundry is where it’s supposed to be?”

“Yeah, mhmm, sorry,” Lucy said with an apologetic look on her face.

“Keep track of your things, you wouldn’t want to lose this pretty thing, would you?” Mikey says before she slung the panties between her fingers, tossing it to Lucy.

Lucy was too struck to catch it, the fabric hit her on the face.

Hot. 

—

“Come on baby you’re doing so good for me, just a little more” Mikey’s coaxing voice urges her to come.

Lucy jolts awake, the last image in her head was that of her roommate above her, an intense look on her, replacing her usually aloof demeanour.

Lucy checks the clock on her phone, yeah, it was time to get up.

Lucy rubs her eyes as she walks out of her room, trying to get sleep out of them. She heads to the kitchen, stretching her arms above her head.

She stops in her tracks as she is greeted by a sight she hasn’t seen since she’s moved in. Mikey’s up early and working in the kitchen.

It’s a Saturday, which means Mikey doesn’t have to work. On weekends, the girl wouldn’t wake up until noon at least. But here she was making breakfast.

Mikey turns around to notice Lucy standing in the kitchen. Her eyes travel down Lucy’s body. Lucy’s suddenly aware of her outfit. She was wearing one of Calum’s oversized t-shirts, that she had stolen from him, and her underwear.

Now, she usually dresses appropriately around the house, it’s just she didn’t expect Mikey to be awake yet. Oh, well.

Mikey clears her throat, “Uh, I’m making pancakes, you can go sit, while I prepare them.” Lucy just nods and hops on the counter opposite the stove, giving Mikey the space to work, uninterrupted.

Maybe her brain’s too sleep-addled, but Lucy’s starting to think making pancakes is one of the sexiest activities out there. 

She watches the way that Mikey’s arms flex as she whisks the batter. The dark armband tattoos contrasting against her milky pale skin make Lucy feel a certain way. She watches the way her fingers drum against the counter as she thinks about what to do next. The tank top that Mikey’s wearing was cut really low on the sides, and Lucy’s could see her tummy and the sides of her breasts. Lucy wants to fit her hands in the space, feel the plush of her skin against her hands. 

Lucy was leaning forward on her hands now, tracing Mikey's every move with a lustful gaze. The aching warmth between her legs that had woken her up was back. She’s too entranced to realise that Mikey’s stopped in front of her, not doing anything at all.

Lucy slowly looks up at the woman, hoping that her face reflects shame for being caught rather than the indecent thoughts that she’s been plagued with.

She’s surprised to see the smirk on Mikey’s face. The green-haired woman steps closer to her.

“Tell me how much you want this.”

She didn't expect that but Lucy isn't gonna pass up this golden opportunity, she nods vigorously, “So much...”

Mikey laughs meanly, placing a hand on her knee as she pushes her thighs apart, making space for herself. The other hand finds itself in Lucy’s blonde curls. Her fingers tangle themselves in her hair, before giving a sharp tug. The sting draws out a moan from Lucy.

“Pl-please, I really want this,” Lucy’s breath stutters as the grip on her hair tightens slightly. 

“This?” Mikey’s head tilts, an unkind look on her face.

“You, I want you, so much,”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” Lucy tries to shake her head, the grip doesn’t loosen.

Mikey crashes her lips against Lucy’s, biting teeth worrying her bottom lip, and a probing tongue explores the edges of her mouth. The kiss is unforgiving and greedy, Mikey’s not letting her escape for a breath, even as she whimpers from the lack of air.

Lucy gasps for air as Mikey finally lets up. The gasps turn into whines as Mikey moves her ministrations to her neck, alternating between messy kisses and bites.

Mikey’s hand finally leaves her hair, both hands now sliding under Lucy’s shirt. The hands explore the plains of her tummy, her sides, her lower back, leaving a burning trail as they move. The firm hands grab her breasts, immediately being complimented by feather light brushes over her nipples. Lucy keens at the sensation.

Suddenly Mikey drops to her knees, face at level with Lucy’s arousal. She lets out a dark chuckle as she sees the wet patch in the front of her underwear. She looks up at Lucy through her lashes, an arrogant air about her. 

Mikey noses the wet spot, dragging along the blonde’s lips, not really applying pressure, or showing any intent to move further.

Lucy mewls, trying to push Mikey’s head to where she needs her. Mikey immediately pulls her head away from the weak attempt. She tuts, “Do you think it’s that easy?”

Lucy disagrees weakly, shaking her head.

“Doesn’t seem like you thought so, get this through that empty little head of yours: I wanna watch y’make a mess on this counter, and then I might consider putting my mouth on you.”

Lucy feels her breath hitch. What the fuck was happening?

Mikey starts leaving kisses all over her thighs, grabbing, pulling and massaging the meat of her thighs, as if assessing something. When she’s satisfied with whatever she was looking for, she pulls Lucy’s thighs further apart, pushing her further on her back. Lucy rests on her elbows to balance herself. Mikey firmly holds her thighs in place, bruising the pale skin there. 

Then she places her lips on the softest part of Lucy’s inner thighs, biting and sucking. Relentlessly, she marks up her thighs. Biting the skin, then sucking and licking to soothe the stings until she starts the same process in another spot. 

After a while, Lucy’s unable to hold back the sobs, her arms shake from the effort of keeping herself upright against the hard granite counter. The aching and burning on her thighs made a part of her want to close them, stop the onslaught of Mikey’s relentless teeth and lips, but the other woman has an iron grip, obstructing all of Lucy’s half-hearted attempts. 

The other half of her didn’t want her to stop, each sting sending a pulse through her core. The pain was making her lightheaded, as she let out louder cries, she could feel hot tears streaming down her face.

Mikey slowly let loose on her grip, pulling away from Lucy. She gets up, lifting Lucy's chin, bringing her face closer, until she feels Mikey’s breath on her lips.

“Why are you crying, was that too much f’you?” she swipes her thumb to collect the tear on Lucy’s cheek, “Aww poor baby,” her mocking tone was accompanied by a hiccup from Lucy, “I could stop, leave ya to it.”

Lucy scrambles to grab the hands on her face, “No, n-no, please, I ne-need you,” she stuttered out between breaths.

“Stop crying then slut.”

Lucy nods, wiping the tears off her face.

Mikey resumes her position in between the blonde’s legs, pulling her soiled underwear to the side. 

“C-can you please take it off?” Lucy attempts to try her luck. Wrong move.

“Oh, is that what you want, you want me to undress you, lay you down, take care of you, kiss your pretty face and tell you how well you’re doing? Y’want that?”

Lucy looks down at the woman between her legs, showing her agreement despite her heavy head.

“Well you have a boyfriend for that, don’t you?”

“Ughh” 

“Right, so here’s what I’m actually going to do, I’m gonna eat this pretty cunt, and fuck you in your boyfriend’s shirt, so that the next time he’s around, you can’t stop thinking about how I have ruined you for anyone else.”

Lucy looks at her with wide eyes, unable to respond.

“What do you think about that? Did you understand what I’m saying, or are you too dumb?” Mikey says with a taunting pout.

The blonde finally catches up to her situation, vigorously shaking her head, “Please Mikey, please..” she ends with a whine.

Mikey swipes her fingers through her wet folds, holding them apart, to look at her entrance. She blows over the hot flesh lightly, sending a shiver through the blonde. She lays her tongue flat, lapping broad strokes to collect all the slick on her tongue, fucking it back into her. 

She flicks at Lucy's clit with her tongue as one finger circles her hole. She flattens her tongue against the bundle of nerves, pulsing against it. Lucy throws her head back with a cry, it was all too much.

Two fingers slide in without warning, causing the blonde to moan at the intrusion. The fingers scissor inside her, the stretch making her whimper. 

Mikey’s other hand reaches under her shirt, twisting one of her nipples. The shock from the sensation combined with the feeling of MIkey's lips wrapped around her clit, sucking, tightens the coil in Lucy’s gut.

A third finger joins in, moving with precision that was driving Lucy insane. Mikey curls the fingers just right to make her see stars.

Lucy's hands find their way into Mikey’s hair, pulling her face closer. 

Lucy’s about to correct her mistake, when she feels the other woman hum in approval against her clit, making her moan loudly.

Mikey pulls her lips away, fingers continuing their movement in and out, thumb replacing the mouth on her clit. “Come on, come for me like the good little slut you are.”

The command makes her walls flutter, the orgasm washing her over, the rush flooding her ears, warmth spreading through her body. She lets out mewls as Mikey’s fingers fuck her through it.

Lucy tries to calm her breathing, going through the aftershock, until she realises Mikey hasn’t drawn away the stimulation. 

Instead, Mikey places her mouth back on her swollen clit, lapping up, the finger inside her slowly massaging her walls. Lucy weakly tries to push away from the sensations, the sting of overstimulation creeping over the pleasure of the orgasm.

Mikey pulls out her fingers, using her free hands to pull one of Lucy’s legs over shoulder, pressing her face impossibly closer to her cunt. The hands let go of her thighs, only to trail up to her waist, wrapping her arms around it to hold the blonde in place.

Lucy tries squeezing her thighs to get Mikey away, but only hisses as she feels the other girl’s face press against the bruises there. 

The green-haired girl ignores her completely, biting down gently on Lucy’s swollen nub. Lucy can hear herself let out loud noises she didn’t even think she was capable of.

The pain-pleasure is building a different kind of pressure in Lucy’s gut. She tries giving a warning, but her throat feels raw and at this point she has been reduced to incoherent sounds.

She tries to lift her head and look at Mikey through her pleasure-heavy lids. Her eyelids flutter with the effort to keep them open.

“I-I’m g-ughh, I mm”

Her back arches off the countertop, eyes shutting close as she sees starbursts behind her lids. She feels her walls pulse, her release gushing down her thighs, forming a puddle around her.

“Oh.”

Lucy opened her eyes, using all her strength, supporting herself on trembling arms to look at Mikey.

The girl on her knees is a sight to behold. Her hair’s sticking up in different directions, credit to Lucy’s fingers. Her lips were pink and swollen, glistening with Lucy’s release. Her heavy-lidded eyes were twinkling, the previously cruel and callous air about her was replaced by something new.

“Can you do that again?”

Lucy shudders, letting out a sob, and pulls her legs close, shaking her head. She absolutely cannot, she might collapse into herself, there’s only so much a girl can take. 

“Please?” Oh, how the tables turn.

Lucy weakly whispers, as much as her wrecked voice allows her, “No, no please, no more.”

Her begging seems to work, as Mikey takes pity on her and straightens up, getting on her feet again. She carefully places her hands on Lucy’s face, placing tender kisses on her cheeks, and lips, her chin, and her nose. The feather light kisses draw a spaced out giggle from the girl.

She steps away to finally take in Lucy’s appearance, trailing down her tear-stained face to her neck which was marked red, and then her shirt. A frown appears on her face, her eyes losing reverence.

Mikey looks ashamed, gaze dropping, “We shouldn’t have done that.”

Lucy’s heart is about to give out, she’s been going through a lot since she woke up this morning.

“Why?”

Mikey’s head shoots up, shock on her face, “Why? I don’t know, maybe it’s ‘cause you have a boyfriend? Ohh, you have a boyfriend, we shouldn’t have done this, you should not have let me do that. I shouldn’t have that, God, what the fuck is wrong with me? And why didn’t you stop me? Why would you do that? You have a boyfriend, we sh-”

Lucy's undignified laughter interrupts Mikey’s panicking spiral, “What boyfriend?”

“The guy who was over a few weeks ago, the guy who’s shirt you’re wearing?”

“That’s Calum!”

“Yeah him!”

Lucy’s hands extend to Mikey, as the other girl looks at her, unsure. This was a new look for her, Lucy had only ever seen her indignant eyerolls and composed smirks. Lucy urges her forward, offering her a small smile, hoping to convey that she is trustworthy.

“Calum is my best friend. I have been stealing his clothes since we were children. His boyfriend’s a sweetheart, but he’s definitely gonna be mad if I fucked him. Especially because I am exclusively into women.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Then Mikey tilts her head in confusion, “If Calum’s not your boyfriend, why did you let me say all that shit about you having a boyfriend?”

Lucy feels her face heat up. She tries avoiding her eyes, but Mikey doesn’t let it go. She smirks, “You have a degradation thing.”

“Well, you also have something.” Lucy retorts.

Mikey laughs, light and giggly, and Lucy is amazed by it, she’s never heard Mikey sound like this, but she hopes to hear more of it, for as long as she can. She pulls Mikey into a kiss, who gladly goes with it.

The kiss is slower than the one they shared earlier, sugar-sweet, unhurried, and full of promise of many more such kisses.

Lucy jumps off the counter, not wanting to break the kiss. Her shaky legs, however, were not on the programme, as she stumbles. Thankfully, Mikey catches her.

She offers the blonde a smug grin, “My bedroom?”

Lucy, huffy, agrees as Mikey chuckles, carrying her away.

The mixed pancake batter stays untouched on the kitchen counter for a couple more hours.

Calum is not bothered with anything at the moment, he needs to get to his room now. 

As soon as he is handed the key to his room, he bolts to the elevator. It’s only when he is waiting for the elevator that he realises that he is not going to be left alone just yet. His bandmates crowd close to him, as was usual for them, and most of the time, almost all of the time, he didn't mind that. But right now, he needs to not be touched. 

The elevator doors open with a ding, and Calum immediately shuffles in a corner of the elevator, huffing as the others get on. Ashton turns to him, "What is up with you? Is there somewhere you need to be?”

Ashton’s question makes Michael, who was standing across Calum and Ashton let out a snort. He is pressed up against Luke, head on his shoulder and arm around his waist. Both men are looking over at him, sporting matching smirks. Calum flushes under the attention of the rest of the band, unable to say anything in his current state. He just shakes his head and mumbles, “Tired.”

Finally, the doors opens to the floor their rooms are on. Not wanting to be called out again, Calum trails behind the others, on the way to their rooms. Ashton reaches his door, unlocking it before facing them again.

“Do you guys want a drink before we all wind down?” he offers.  Luke and Michael nod without much thinking.

“Sure,” Luke says, “Cal?”

Calum was this close to screaming at them, he wants to do nothing but put as much distance between them as possible, but he doesn’t want to bring more attention to himself, otherwise they will never leave him alone.

“I’m too tired, I just wanna sleep, you guys go ahead without me.” Calum says trying to make himself sound exhausted, instead of how strung up he actually feels.

“Alright”, Michael shrugs, and he and Luke head inside Ashton’s room as he steps aside for them to enter. Ashton gives Calum a look of concern, “Call me if you need anything.”

Calum just nods, finally opening his door.

Once he is inside, he doesn’t waste a second pulling off his clothes and tossing them everywhere. Stripped down to his boxers, he palms himself and lets out a sigh of relief.

He moves to sit on the bed, resting his back against the pillows. Calum pulls his boxers down to his thighs, his flushed cock slaps against his stomach. God he is so fucking turned on.

Wrapping a hand around himself, he starts thinking of everything that had led up to this.

They were on stage, pumped with alcohol and the sheer amount of adrenaline playing a show brought. Calum strummed the strings of his bass, making eye contact with Luke.

He got close enough so that they were singing from the same mic. This was not something new, what was new however was whatever took over Calum in that second. Still looking Luke in the eye, Calum slowly dropped to his knees.

Luke’s eyebrows jumped up, momentarily surprised by what Calum had just done, before the look was completely wiped off his face, replaced by something else. The corner of his lips turned, sharp and dangerous, and his eyes glowed with something, something that made Calum’s heart beat spike.

Before Calum had time to process any of that, Michael appeared behind Luke, his chin hooked on the singer’s shoulder. He was also grinning down at him. 

Michael, in Calum’s opinion, was an asshole with the sweetest smile. The upturn of his lips then had been anything but sweet, it was a menacing thing, honestly.

Calum tightens his grip at the base, slowly pulling his hand up, wrist twisting a bit just below the tip. He repeats the motion, keeping the pace just as slow. He wants to revel in the tingling sensation in his lower stomach, making the muscles there jump, stressing and relaxing. 

Luke and Michael had never towered above Calum, they were almost the same height, Luke had a couple of inches on him, but not enough that required him to ever look down at Calum.

In that moment though, Calum wished that they always looked down at him like that. Both men had their grins stretched wide, teeth bared, and eyes narrowed. They looked like they wanted to eat him. The heady rush that Calum felt had him tipping his head back, just their presence was enough.

The tingling feeling that he was feeling in his stomach crawls down his body, reaching the tips of  his toes. Calum digs his heels in the bed as his toes curl. He pauses his movement for a bit, placing his thumb right below the head where he was sensitive, and lets out a hiss.

The rest of the show Calum had been half distracted, trying to get that image out of his head. As they had gotten off stage Calum was begging himself to stop thinking about whatever that was. He decided to pay attention to his bandmates again.

The three of them were laughing and celebrating, he joined them, and for a moment then he had forgotten about it. That was easy, being there with his boys, glad that they got to do what they did another night, and that they got to do it together. This was more important, always taking priority over whatever this was.

This wasn't the first time that Calum had had these thoughts about his best friends, and like always, spending these moments with said best friends would have him out of his head and back to normal. This was just like any other time. Or so he thought.

They were laughing about something Ashton said when Michael’s hand squeezed Calum’s arm and trailed down. Calum barely fought back the very visible shiver that sent through his body, he had yet to recover from the stage incident. Calum turned to look at Michael, but the red haired man wasn't looking at him, nothing in his carefree laugh indicated that he had any idea about what he had done. Maybe he didn't. Calum really really needed to get out of his head. 

That’s when he felt a hand on his back. Nothing that would have been a problem any other time, but the hand was Luke’s, and it was dangerously close to the curve of his ass. They have all touched each other's butts before, but now was really not the time, Calum is this close to shouting his head off. And then they moved, Luke was fucking drumming his fingers just shy of Calum’s ass. Calum had to get out of here before he did something stupid. 

Calum gradually increases his speed, collecting some of the precum that had gathered, rubbing it around the slit then further down his shaft. He adjusts his position so that he is more reclined on the pillows and comfortably able to rest his head back. He goes faster with the next couple of strokes.

By the time they got to the car to get back to the hotel, Calum had stopped attempting to make the hot feeling in his gut go away. He had to take care of this another way. But maybe the universe wanted him to suffer the most that he could before he got to that. Michael and Luke got in the seat in front of him, smiling at him innocently. Ashton was sitting beside him, but he had put on his headphones and was scrolling on his phone, lost to the world.

Luke and Michael cuddled close to each other, and for a moment Calum was relieved. The couple would be too busy with each other to notice whatever Calum had got going on. Once again, he was wrong.

Michael had buried his face in Luke’s neck, and started placing chaste kisses there. The kisses started getting longer, as Luke tilted his head to the side allowing Michael to place the kisses higher until he reached the spot below Luke’s jaw.

Calum couldn’t look away. They never did anything more than kiss and make lewd jokes in front of the other half of the band. The novelty of this sight was going straight to his head and making his pants tighter.

Too transfixed by the sight of Michael’s lips against Luke’s neck, Calum didn’t realise he had been caught in his act. He looked up to catch the brunet’s eye.

Michael then stopped his ministrations to look up at Luke, his eyebrow slightly raised, lips puffy and red.  He followed Luke’s line of sight, and looked at Calum, head on.

Calum had looked away then but he had so wanted to keep looking, to do something. His hand went faster, squeezing tighter near the head.

If you would have told him a few days ago that he would be almost on the brink of coming just by thinking about his interactions with his best friends, who were in a relationship nonetheless, he would believe you. Because this wasn't the first time, only that this time he felt guiltier. It has been years at this point, and he should get over the way that he feels about them by this point. Calum felt a heaviness in his heart, for thinking about what happened today and perversing these interactions. 

At the moment though, he is too close to even let his shame stop it. His hand is getting sloppier, losing his rhythm, rubbing with urgency. His head falls back, eyes close from the overwhelming feeling of the tightening in his gut, a tell tale sign that he was about to come, just a little bit more-

There’s a knock on his door. 

WHAT THE FUCK.

Calum just thumps his head against the pillows, his hand stilling at the base of his cock. whoever is at the door can go fuck themselves, Calum is not doing this, not right now.

There’s another knock. Calum completely stills. Maybe if he doesn't move at all, they’ll think he’s asleep, like he said he would be, and leave him to his shameful jerk off. 

“Calum we know you’re awake.” Michael’s voice comes from behind the door, there’s humour in it.

“C’mon Cal open up, we wanna see you.” Luke said, the tone of his voice is sickly sweet, the way it is when you know he’s plotting something.

And that’s when it clicks into place. 

The looks on stage, the touches backstage, the whole display in the car. 

They knew about what Calum was feeling. And they were what? Teasing him? Making fun of him? Why would they do all that to him? He knew his friends, and they would not do something so malicious to him. What reason could they possibly have to egg on Calum’s feelings?

But what if Calum was overanalysing this situation and actually they were completely oblivious to how he had been lusting over them the whole day, and they were just here to check on him. 

There was another knock, “Caaallummm?”, followed by some laughter.

They aren’t going to go away, so Calum pulls up his boxers that were still around his thighs, and wipes his hands on his shirt that was lying by the foot of the bed. He opens the door slightly, poking his head out just a bit, hiding his very evident boner behind the door.

He squints his eyes while looking at the men at his door, still trying to keep up the pretence that he had been sleeping, just in case Michael and Luke were oblivious to his predicament, “What do you want?”

“Cut the shit we know that you weren’t sleeping”, Micahel said, putting a hand on the door. Luke, standing closer to the opening of the door, placed his hand on the door frame, right beside Calum’s face. Luke looked intently at Calum, he had a look on his face, soft and yet there was an underlying edge to it. “C’mon, let us in and we'll take care of you.” What.

Just as Luke finishes saying that, Michael pushes the door, and both men slip into his room. Calum turns around to face them. Calum is still taking in the situation, when had they gotten this close, Calum backs up against the door, closing it as a result.

They were back, the hungry look in their eyes, the ones that they had on stage. Calum felt very exposed at that moment, standing there only in his underwear. 

Michael put one hand on the door, beside Calum’s head, his other reaches up to his neck, his knuckles grazing his collarbones. 

“We know what you want, let us give it to you,” Michael’s eyes flick up from where they were looking at Calum’s neck, to meet his eyes. The green of his eyes were now a thin circle around his dilated pupils. Calum finally computes what Michael had said.

“Why would you want to do that, I mean you guys have been doing these little things the entire night, like I wasn’t sure if  I was just imagining it, and apparently I haven’t been, and now I’m not sure what this is, or what you guys will get out of this. Please, tell me you are not messing with me, because I don’t think I will be able to deal with that,” Calum exhales, letting out all the confusion and frustration he had been feeling all night. 

Luke lightly touches his side, bringing him out his thoughts, “We are not messing with you, I promise, me and Michael have been wanting this for a while now, we just hadn’t found the opportunity to act on it until today.”

“Just tell us you’re okay with this, and we will give you everything you want,” Michael said, lifting Calum’s chin to tilt his head toward him. Calum still hasn’t caught up to what was happening, but he’s not going to pass this up when it’s right in front of him, he nods, “Yes.”

Michael closes the gap between their mouths. The kiss is slow at first, Michael’s hand holding his face sweetly, until it slides into his hair, tugging a bit, making Calum let out a sigh. He could feel Michael’s smile against his lips. Calum decided to deepen the kiss, licking at Michael’s lips, and pressing his body against the redhead. 

Michael grabs either side of his head, slipping his tongue into his mouth, pressing him back into the door. They stayed there for a bit, rubbing against each other, Calum shivering slightly because of the friction of Michael’s clothes against his bare skin.

Michael’s hands trail down his body, his touch light and teasing. The finger tips lightly sliding over the sides of Calum’s chest and stomach were getting to him, he couldn’t contain the pathetic sounds that left him. 

It’s like those sounds triggered something in Luke who had been standing leaning against the door next to Calum, watching the two. He grabs the back of Michael’s neck pulling lightly.

“C’mon I also wanna try”, he huffs, “quit hogging.”

This got Michael’s attention, making him separate himself from Calum. Calum did not like that very much. 

Michael gave Luke a look that made the brunet gulp. “How about you say please first?” Michael’s tone is a little sharp.

“Can I please kiss Calum?” Luke whispers carefully. A small smirk appears on Michael’s lips, as he brushes his hand through the brunet’s  hair, “Get him to the bed, hmm?”

Calum actually had no fucking clue what was happening in front of him, but his dick had some idea, because seeing his band mates act like this made it twitch with interest. 

Michael completely moved away from the other two, walking to the bed, starting to remove his clothes. Calum couldn’t enjoy the view however, because Luke’s hands were demanding his attention. Luke held Calum’s jaw firmly, making their eyes meet. His previously whiny and petulant look was gone, replaced by one of mirth and assurance. The shift in Luke’s demeanour gave Calum a whiplash, making his knees weak.

“Hi,” Luke whispered lowly, looking down at Calum. The extra few inches were really evident right now, and Cakum was not taking that very well. Before Calum could say anything in response, Luke’s lips crashed down on his. 

This kiss was very unlike the one with Michael, hurried and deep from the beginning. Luke’s tongue wasted no time to explore Calum’s mouth as his hands explored his body, one hand planting itself on his hip, while the other reached for the bulge in his boxers. Calum’s hips buck forward to get some friction against Luke’s palm. 

The action made Luke chuckle followed by a tsk tsk, “Were you close before we interrupted you? Or did you get like this just from a few kisses?”

“I was, you asshole,” Calum replied, nipping Luke’s lip.

“Don’t worry Cal, we’ll more than make up for it,” Luke flipped them around away from the door, guiding them to the bed. 

Michael, who was now stripped down to his underwear and sitting on the edge of the bed, reaches for Calum’s hips, meeting Luke’s hands. He pulls him down to the bed.

He places a kiss on Calum’s shoulder. “Lay down baby,” he says, pushing his shoulder down.

Luke and Michael move at once then, kissing all over Calum’s neck, hands roaming his body. Calum genuinely did not know how this was happening to him, but he did not want it to stop, he’s so lost in the single-minded attention that he is getting.

Michael moved further down his body as Luke kept leaving marks on his chest. Just as Michael’s hand brushes against his clothed cock, Luke scrapes his teeth against his neck. The combination of sensations were making Calum’s head reel. He felt Michael tug at his boxers, pulling them down his legs.

“Where’s the lube?”

“It’s in the first zip of the bag,” Calum weakly pointed to his bag somewhere to the side of his bed. Michael’ll figure it out.

Michael returns with the bottle in hand. That’s when Luke detaches himself from Calum, sitting up. Calum felt overexposed, naked in front of them. It wasn’t like he had never been naked around them, but right now with them looking down at him, with intent shining in their eyes, Calum fought the urge to cover up.

“Can I open you up?” Michael asked.

Calum’s eyes widened, because this was real, they were doing this, and there’s no point of return now. He nodded, “Yes please”.

Michael drops down to his knees, making space for himself between Calum’s legs. He grabs Calum’s ass, spreading it open, thumbing at the rim. He pours lube on his fingers, before tossing the bottle to the side. 

Soon, Michael has a finger in him, slowly opening him up. Luke resumes what he was doing, placing wet kisses on Calum, going further down now, until he reaches Calum’s cock. He takes the tip into his mouth, lazily lapping at the precum there.

Calum is writhing on the bed in no time, grabbing at Michael’s shoulder. Michael’s fingers opening him up were slow and through, searching tentatively. Luke is placing open mouthed kisses and small licks on his dick, not intending to go further.

Calum lets out a surprised squeal when Michael lightly brushes against his prostate, pulling his fingers back. Calum lifts his head to see the smug look on his face. Michael resumes scissoring his fingers, massaging his walls, just around his prostate.

Calum was going crazy, the in-between sensations were keeping his strung, his toes curling from the pleasure, but it wasn’t going anywhere. He let out moans and whimpers out of frustration, “More please, please I-”

He is suddenly deprived of all stimulation as Michael removes his fingers from his ass and Luke sits back up. Okay, Calum is not above crying and begging right now.

Calum sits up, following the other two, his eyes wet from the overwhelming arousal and the feeling of not enough.

Michael takes off his underwear and sits at the head of the bed, and Calum scrambles to him, as Michael rests against the pillows. He grabs Caulm’s face, giving him a soft kiss before whispering against his lips, “Turn around.”

Michael grabs onto Calum's hips, placing him on his lap, dick brushing against his ass. 

Luke had taken off his clothes too by that point. He walks over to them, joining them on the bed. Michael signals Luke to get the bottle of lube. He complies, pouring some in his hand, and grabbing at Michael’s cock, lubing it for him.

Calum wiggles in Michael’s lap, getting impatient, which makes the others laugh.

Luke lets go of Michael, situating himself in front of Calum, “You can’t wait for a little bit?”

Calum is in the position where he actually cannot think of anything else other than getting Michael’s dick in his ass, so he says so.

This makes Michael chuckle as he lines himself behind him. Luke grabs Calum’s face, bringing him into a messy kiss. 

Calum moans into Luke’s mouth as he feels Michael slide in. Luke just deepens the kiss, licking in his mouth, and Calum can taste himself on his tongue. 

Michael slowly bottoms out, hips pressed all the way to Calum’s ass. He gives an experimental thrust, making Calum’s eyes roll back in his head with a loud groan. 

He starts moving, the angle doesn't allow Michael to move fast, but Calum can feel him so deep, he’s sure he is going to be missing the feeling of being this full for days.

One of Michael’s hands slid up to the back of Calum's neck, the other reaching in Luke’s curls, pulling him away from Calum. He kisses Luke, hungry and fierce, before pulling away, “Why don’t you put on a little show for Calum?”

Calum was very on board with this proposition and let out an enthusiastic moan. 

Luke leans back on the bed on his hands with a smirk. He spread his legs, feet planted on the bed. The brunet reaches a hand between his legs, pulling his cheeks apart, giving Calum the perfect view of his hole. He places a dry finger on his hole, gently rubbing the rim.

Luke reaches for the lube, pouring it over his fingers, placing the finger back to where it was. He goes back to circling the entrance, before dipping the finger inside, slowly pushing in bit by bit. Luke let’s a shaky moan.

“Isn’t it pretty?” Calum feels Michael’s breath on his neck, making the coil in Calum’s stomach tighten even more. He’s right, Calum can’t look away, he wants to reach out and touch, to replace Luke’s fingers with his own. He wants his tongue in there too, if he can.

Michael gives a particularly harsh thrust then, “C’mon, I asked you something Cal, tell me isn’t  Luke’s hole so pretty?”

Calum lets out a startled mewl as he feel nods, “So pretty, yes, hmm”

Luke for his part, was now two finger deep, hips slightly raised, letting out small noises as he spread the fingers apart.

Michael’s shallow and deep thrusts, coupled with the sight of Luke’s fingers going in and out of his hole was making Calum lightheaded, he is getting close again, and he clenches hard on Michaek’s dick.

Michael groans, dropping his head on Cakum’s shoulder, picking up the pace. He presses up against Calum, hands snaking around Calum’s hips. He nudges Calum's thighs to spread them further apart.

This time Michael nails Calum’s sweet spot with precision making him let out a high pitched shout. 

Calum throws his head back, closing his eyes. Michael then slows down, purposefully making the thrusts shallow. Calum opened his eyes, wide with disbelief, he tried to turn around to face Michael but the man’s grip on him kept him place. 

Michael let out a dark chuckle. “I want you to be nice, and appreciate Luke for all the effort he’s putting in for you, keep watching him,” he sa as he plants a kiss on the mark on Calum’s neck that Luke had left previously.

Calum looked back at Luke, to see the brunet’s sharp smile. Why did Calum have a bad feeling that he was going to pay for that slip up?

Luke leans further back on his elbows, fingers following a rhythm. He is breathing heavily, head tipping back. His ass is barely touching the bed as he grinds on his fingers.  

He bites his lip, looking Calum in the eye. “Please,” Calum lets out a desperate plea, he doesn't know for what. 

Luke just offers him a tilt of his head as he continues riding his fingers, arching his back. At some point Luke is on his back, his ass in the air, and Calum doesn’t think he has ever seen anything so captivating. His other hand trailed up his body, feeling himself up, letting out borderline pornographic moans, clearly putting on the show he was instructed to.

Luke’s whimpers and Michael’s heavy breathing are the only things heard in the room. Calum doesn’t want to make a sound, he’s afraid he’ll miss something.

Luke lets out another high pitched moan, and Calum feels it ringing in his ears, he hears Michael’s voice through it, “Curl up your fingers babe.”

That seems to do it for Luke, as he hits his prostate. Luke starts a frenzied pace, just as Michael picks up the speed, “Don’t you wish that was you instead? Do you want Luke to ride you?” 

Calum nods frantically, he wants it so bad.

“Use your words baby, or we aren’t gonna know how much you want it.”

“Yes yes yes please I want it!”

And then it all stops, all at once. Again.

Calum feels something hot bubbling in his chest, he just needed a little bit more, and he would have been there, his torture would have ended. The entire day his head has been revolving around Luke and Michael and now they were so close, but they were being so unfair.

He feels Luke’s hands on his face, urging him to look at him. Calum could not help the way his breath stuttered as he looked at Luke. Luke’s curls were in complete disarray, framing his face like a halo. His blue eyes were hypnotic, pulling him in, stilling Calum’s trembling. Luke swipes at the tears on Calum’s cheeks, he hadn’t even realised he was crying. 

Luke looks at Calum with a lovely smile, the kind that always reassured Calum. He places a sweet peck on his lips, pulling away and whispering, “We didn’t realise that this would take such a toll on you, do you still want us to-”

”Yes! Please just let me come”, Calum whines. If Luke and Michael were to move away from him now, he would actually explode.

Michael wraps his arms around Calum’s waist again, peppering kisses all over Calum’s shoulders again. “You sound so pretty when you’re polite, I’m sorry Cal, I promise I’ll be nice. How do you want this?”

Calum is too overwhelmed; he knows what he wants, he just doesn’t know how to say it, “I, uh, I just want to feel both of you,” he trails off.

But that's the thing about these men, Calum could get away with saying nothing at all, because they understood his smallest reactions.

Luke pushes Calum back to lay on Michael’s chest, as the other man positions himself to enter Calum again. He pushes in slowly, kissing Calum’s back and neck whispering sweet praises. 

Luke throws his legs over Calum’s hips, straddling him. Reaching behind him, he grabs hold of Calum’s cock, lining himself up.

Twin groans echo through the room as Luke finally bottoms. The three of them start moving in sync, Calum sandwiched in the middle, going back and forth between the two. 

Hours of anticipation and just there but not enough had Calum on such an edge. It doesn’t take long. Michael is purposefully grinding into his sweet spot, and Luke is pulling himself up all the way until only the head is catching on his rim, sinking down panting into Calum’s mouth. Calum is pushed over the edge.

Calum feels his vision go white, and there’s a shout. He's not sure who’s making it, it could be him. Calum feels light and floaty, out of his being, so he’s not even sure what his voice sounds like at the moment. 

He’s clenching down hard on Michael’s dick as he feels him cum, just as Luke follows, painting Calum’s stomach. 

Calum tries to move, but his body feels too heavy. Michael carefully turns him over and slides out. He walks to the bathroom getting a wet towel to wipe down Calum and Luke.

Michael carefully wipes his release from between Calum’s legs, giving him small kisses on his thighs accompanied with praises of ‘You did so well' and ‘You look so beautiful'. He moves on to do the same to Luke, ending it with giving Luke a deep kiss.

Calum looks away then. Now that he’s not completely out of it, he’s not sure of where he stands. The anxiety about wanting to be with his best friends was back. What did this mean to them? Was it just a one time thing, or just a bedroom thing?

When they pull away, they both get on either side of him, Luke curls around his back, placing his neck on the crook of his neck. Michael throws his leg over their hips pulling himself close, placing a hand on Calum’s cheek. He is sporting a content grin, looking at Calum like he had just gotten everything he wanted. 

Calum could feel the tiredness in his bones, making him sink into the men, and into them bed. He was in a strange in-between state, wanting to drift off to sleep, but also wanting to be awake to bask in the feeling of the ones he loved being wrapped around him. 

He was too afraid to name it before, but he knew that tonight was going to leave him irrevocably changed. He was so in love with them, he can not deny it any longer, and tonight won’t let him deny it anymore. But it also hurts now, to be this close and not having them completely. Will they ever hold him like this again, or was this something that Calum was allowed to have, only temporarily.

Despite his worries, his eyelids start drooping with sleep. Just as he is about to fall under, he’s reminded of something Luke said earlier.

“How long did you mean when you said you have been wanting this for a while?” Calum asked neither of them in particular. He tried to keep his tone neutral, he doesn’t even know what answer he wants. 

Michael squeezes his cheek, “Me and Luke had been wanting to approach you almost from the time that we got together.” Calum's eyes widened.

Luke turns him on his back, so that he can look at his face. Raising himself on his elbow, he looks down at Calum, a cautious sort of look on his face.

“Michael and I love each other, we don’t doubt that, but at some point we realised something was missing. We thought it was just us, y’know, that we were the only two interested in each other like that. But that wasn’t necessarily true, this feeling that we have for each other extends to you, and, uh, and Ashton too,” he whispered slowly, as if he was trying not to spook Calum. 

Calum was so confused now, “Wait, is this like just a sex thing, because if that’s case then uh- ”

“No! No it’s not, oh my god Luke why would you say it like that,” Michael jumps up to clarify.

“What he meant was that, we, as in a romantic relationship, realised that we wanted you too, if you would want that. We weren’t sure if you guys would want to be in a relationship with us, at least not til tonight.”

Calum suddenly felt all the pressure on his chest release, “That’s good to know, because I don’t think I would be able to go back to acting like nothing happened,” then he pauses, unsure of what he should say next. He just looks at them leaning above him, hoping that they would hear what he was hesitating to say anyways.

Maybe they had, because they just smile at him, Michael bearing his teeth, and Luke’s is pressed between his lips, showing his dimples. They all lay back in the positions they were in, pressing close. 

Calum hears Luke’s voice behind him, “We should properly talk about this in the morning.” Michael sleepy agrees with a yawn. And Calum isn't worried, he has a good feeling that the conversation is going to be easy, like many they’ve had before.