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Calum relished in the fact that for the first time since they all started their first world tour, he had some time to just be in his own space, without the hustle and bustle of the others members of the band, the press or endless promotion. Now, that sounded horrible and insulting to the three other boys and to the industry that had gotten him to where he wanted to be in life. But he did in fact love his three best friends dearly, it’s just that every now and then a little break, or time spent alone did him the world of good. And as for the cameras and interviews, everyone needed a break from the endless scrutiny sometimes.
But he was getting ahead of himself here, basking in his good fortune, without explaining how it came to be.
-
Back in May, when the tour started, surprisingly without any arguments or bickering the sleeping arrangements for the next five months had been decided. On the tour bus, Luke- due to his long legs, that allowed the easiest access- was to sleep on the top bunk on the right side, with Michael directly underneath- he was the heaviest sleeper and Luke was often clumsy when getting into his small top bunk so if Michael was underneath it wouldn’t wake him up, when Luke inevitably crashed around.
Then on the left side, Ashton would sleep on the top bunk- for no particular reason other than Calum had to sleep on the bottom bunk. He was always up for an impromptu snack run in the middle of the night, but also because when all the other boys were asleep, Calum might just pull back his own curtain in hopes of seeing a glimpse of a certain rainbow haired boy, with soft features gracing his pale face, red plump lips parted with little puffs of air escaping them. However more often than not Michael’s curtain was closed, so Calum didn’t get his nightly fix, because it’s not like he can stare all ‘heart-eyes emoji’ at his fellow band mate in public- or god forbid in front of Luke and Ashton- could he?
Which was why there was a tiny tugging of his heart strings when it was decided that these arrangements would follow through if they ever spent a night in a hotel- or they would follow on to some extent. These nights where they were blessed with solid, unmoving ground to sleep on became sacred over the time they were touring. Nights in solid beds where they could stretch and actually breath, were few and far between, but when they came, Calum felt like he was spending a night sleeping on pure feathers whilst wrapped in the embrace of something entirely too fluffy to be a duvet.
Management would book out two, double rooms, and one would be occupied by Michael and Luke, the other by Calum and Ashton. The basis of this was Michael and Luke were ‘the sleepers’ who slept more that Ashton thought was healthy and often needed yanking out of bed in the morning, and that Calum and Ashton were ‘the active ones’. Much to Calum’s disappointment, this was true. Ashton and Calum would often go to the gym in the early morning, or went out to see some monument Calum had never heard of but Ashton was dying to see, before even the thought of consciousness had entered their other two band mates heads.
Because of how simple and logical the arrangements were, Calum didn’t argue. He couldn’t think of a way to change it so that he and Michael were in the same room other than him completely coming out with I am completely in love with Michael and he looks adorable and calm and safe when he sleeps, so that makes me feel calm and safe. It reminds me of when we were younger and we would and could fall asleep in each other’s arms before all of this ‘no-homo’ crap. And I want that again, the nights we would stay up watching crappy TV shows, whilst whispering how much we wanted to make it big with our music, despite how impossible it felt back then. I want that back, and I want Michael . But he couldn’t say that, of course he couldn’t, so he kept quiet, went to the gym in the mornings with Ashton, and tried not to think of what Luke wasn’t appreciating in the room across from or opposite his.
* * *
Towards the end of the tour, Ashton got a girlfriend. It wasn’t really a big deal, it didn’t interfere with the time they had with Ashton, and so they let him be. They let him have his fun with the admittedly pretty blonde girl- going out to the cinema with her, taking her to cute little restaurants that the Calum, Michael and Luke wouldn’t appreciate, buying her adorable little souvenirs from little shops they saw while traveling in the tour bus.
And Calum almost fell in love with her himself- but like, in a totally metaphorically way, as you know, like, Michael- when she invited Ashton to stay over her place one night. It just so happened that it was also a night when they were staying in a hotel; Calum almost did a happy dance when it clicked that he would have the room all to himself. It wasn’t because Ashton was a bad roommate, it was just nice to have a night were he could just be with himself, to not make conversation and to not explain what he was doing, when or why. It was nice to just be alone, to breathe his own air, to let his mind think uncensored.
So to that uncensored place, is where he let his mind wander not soon after Ashton left. He lay flat out on his back of his bed, listening to the silence and thinking about how far they’d come, and how much further he had to go. He thought about Michael, but not in an in-depth way, just simply about the feelings he felt in the pit of his stomach or back of his head when he thought of him. He thought about how things with Ashton and his girlfriend would go, whether it would end badly and how that would affect not only the drummer, but them as a band. He thought about how soft the fluffy duvet felt on top of the mattress he was lying on, and how easily he would fall to sleep tonight.
The silence was interrupted by a knocking on the door. He groaned, annoyed that after all of ten minutes his evening plans were being altered. Whatever Luke or Michael was knocking on his door to ask him to do- whether it was go out clubbing, or go and get some ice cream- he would say no. (Unless it was Michael asking him to make out, then the answer would be hell fucking yeah ). So it was merely the notion that he hadn’t intended to talk to anyone that night, and that now he had to, even if it was only to say no, that irritated him. It was childish and slightly uncalled for, but Calum was allowed to not be suffocated with human interaction. Michael seemed to get away with it just fine when he locked himself up in his bunk, so why couldn’t Calum have one night?
He trudged his way across the clothes free carpet- he hadn’t been here long enough to litter the floor with his clothing- to the door and opened it anyway, without looking through the peephole. The first dip of disappointment was when it wasn’t Michael standing outside his room, but Luke. However Luke with pink tinged cheek bones and down cast eyes was something he wasn’t expecting. If he’d been asking Calum to go out, normally he would be bouncy and full of excitement, not all…well all embarrassed like this.
“Luke?”. Calum’s voice came out rough from not using it in a while. He cleared his throat and Luke flinched a bit.
The way he was twiddling his foot underneath him and his hands fisted awkwardly at his sides almost had Calum laughing, but he choked it back and managed to keep the laughing to a mere scoff. Luke looked up from the floor he had been inspecting with slightly twitchy eyes and seemed to steal his breath before mumbling out all at once some reason or another as why he could, maybe, hopefully, please please please with a cherry on top, have his room for the night. His reasons for needing it were lost within the drabbled of his dragged out speech, but once Calum heard it was because he didn’t want to kick an ‘Xbox immersed’ Michael out of his room, he wanted some ‘privacy’ and he would be going out to a club with some other friends he had in the area beforehand, Calum shut off about the tiny deletes. What Luke wanted to do behind closed doors at possibly 3am was his business.
Calum only assumed Luke was taking the existence of a night in a hotel room to his advantage, and was hoping to pick someone up tonight, and bring them back with him. If Michael would have asked, Calum would have said no straight away, foiling his plan of spending the night with someone who wasn’t him. But this was Luke, and he looked so bashful in the way he was asking, even slightly insecure about Calum pressing for more answers.
Luke thanked him with twinkling eyes, once he agreed to let him have his room without question, (because Luke obviously really wanted to get laid and not because he would be in the same room as Michael) and Calum closed the door on his beaming smile and slightly dorky hand wave before gathering his stuff together.
* * *
When the time of the night rolled across, when the sunlight finally dipped its head below the horizon and night reared its body, casting shadows on those lurking in wait for its cloak of darkness, Calum picked up the small duffel bag by the door and headed down the white washed corridor to the room he would be spending the night in. The door to the room was at the bottom of the corridor, it was white, or as white as it could be when it was at the bottom of a corridor of a mediocre hotel. The paint was peeling off it slightly, yellowing and revealing an even more decaying colour underneath. It was surprising that the little curls were still there, and that Ashton, the neat freak that he was, hadn’t stood outside the door picking of the unravelling paint with his blunt fingernails when he was meant to be telling Michael and Luke to get ready for the upcoming show or early morning inteview. Calum raised his hands to the door, ready to rap on a piece of the wood that wasn’t barring jagged bits of paint when he realised it was slightly agar.
Typical Michael, leaving the door open and risking any burglar, or more likely fan girl bursting into his room once they found out that he and Luke were inside, because he couldn’t be bothered to open the door. There had been a time where he’d let Luke borrow a styling brush for his hair and he’d forgotten to bring it back, so Calum had made his way to Luke’s room himself. Unfortunately, Luke was out, and Michael too engrossed in an intense game of World of Warcraft or something equally Michael-ish to answer the door. He had made Calum wait outside the door with varying degrees of annoyance then anger until he had finished the game; he had spent a good half an hour plotting Michaels painful demise whilst listening to the sounds of animated swords clashing behind the door.
Ever since then when Michael knew someone without a key card was coming over, he would just leave the door open so they could let themselves in. Calum rolled his eyes at how much of a gaming freak- not that he wasn’t partial to a good Xbox game himself- Michael was, and pushed the door open. Immediately he was hit with the smell of aftershave, and too much hair spray. Luke must have already gone out he thought, and those thoughts were confirmed when he saw the absence of Luke’s vans which were normally strewn in front of the hotel door. But Michael’s combat boots were also missing. Dodging around discarded socks and what Calum really hoped were empty pizza boxes- there had been many times when catering had to be called because of a severe case of mouldy pizza had stunk out a room- he made his way to the bedroom.
Two single beds were pushed with their headboards up against the back wall; there was a low resting bed side table between them littered with empty chocolate bar wrappers, and crushed energy drinks cans. Between the two beds was an assortment of black clothes, mostly band tees and a controller sat unused on what he assumed was Michael’s bed. He thought it was Michael’s as it was the messiest, and seemed to have the biggest amount of inconspicuous crumbs littering the unmade surface. Calum grimaced and tried not to go full mum on the owner, but luckily for Michael, he wasn’t in the room. Unusually Michael’s leather jacket wasn’t hung off the edge of the headboard like it normally was, so he just assumed he had just popped out for pizza. Well he hoped the red head had, as pizza sounded quite good right now.
Luckily, Luke wasn’t as messy as Michael when it came to basic hygiene, and his bed was made and clothes, unidentified wrappers and food were removed from it. Probably for Calum’s benefit, as he knew how much he hated Michael’s disregard for preventable germs. Luke’s oversized stuffed penguin was also removed from the bed, Luke could never be parted from that penguin, it was ridiculous but also quiet endearing. He chucked his overnight bag onto the floor, hoping as it was Luke side of the room where he threw it, that the blonde hadn’t deposited anything onto the floor there, and that his bag wouldn’t be covered in it now, and flopped onto the bed. It smelled of Luke, hair gel and citrusy smelling shower wash. It was different to Michael, who smelled of something warm that left a similar feeling to the taste of mulled wine in his stomach when he breathed it in, fuzzy and warming. His smell was homely and filled Calum’s senses.
He pushed the covers back from underneath him, but before shuffling his legs under them, he swapped Luke’s pillow with Michael’s. It reminded Calum of home, he reasoned as he wrapped the covers around himself and buried his face into the new pillow. It was cold, meaning Michael hadn’t been lying on it recently, hopefully he would be back soon he thought, but the warm feeling in the pit of his stomach was still there as the other boys scent travelled and curled around him. ‘I’ll just wait here for a bit’, he told himself, ‘I’m just cold so am wrapped up in bed to keep warm’, he continued. But he didn’t need an excuse really; Michael always sat curled in his duvet whilst playing online. Where he was, Calum didn’t know, but he hoped Michael would be back soon.
-
If Calum had looked to the floor next to his bed he would have noticed something on the floor. There was about arm’s length between the side of the bed and the wall and this space was bare apart from a warm pizza box on the floor. Now it was crushed underneath the bag he had dumped on it, but if he had looked he would have seen a note from Luke. So as the oily, cheesiness of the pizza soaked into the bottom of his overnight bag and into the paper of the note, it blurred the ink that had marked it.
“Hi Cal,” had been scrawled across it, in messy, childlike handwriting that he would have known anywhere belonged to Luke, “Me and some of the guys went out to a club as I said. Mikey didn’t want to come but he text me saying he was going to this gaming arcade thingy whilst we’re here, so for me not to wait up. He left his phone in the bathroom once he left. And he was gone before I could tell him you were bunking over tonight. Sorry I didn’t tell you/him earlier, but here enjoy the pepperoni goodness of this pizza and don’t mess with Michael’s Xbox if you don’t want to die. Haha, see ya. Luke (+pengy ) “.
But Calum didn’t look at the floor, and he didn’t take more care when he threw his bag down, and he didn’t realise that it was Michael nice jacket that he wore when he was going somewhere and wanted to look good was gone, and he didn’t do anything but close his eyes, unintentionally, with thoughts of lazy days with Michael running uncensored through his mind.
* * *
“Luke” Michael groaned as he threw himself on the adjacent bed to the one Calum was on- the bed creaked and the springs shrieked in protest as Michaels heavy 6 foot something frame hit the bed- in the mediocre-rated hotel room. Calum was swaddled up and had been fast asleep within the warm cocoon of the duvet, before his slightly more than tipsy best friend stumbled through the door, to the two person room.
The warm state of having just fallen asleep which had previous cradled Calum in its warm arms, now clawed at him with malicious intent, scratching and biting at him to remain trapped in its arms. His eyes fluttered as he tried to remain awake. The duvet felt like a cage and he mumbled and grumbled, trying to break its tightly bound bond, in a way that must have sounded something resembling Luke since Michael didn’t question it. He would have done, normally, if he had known it was in fact a brown haired tanned boy, instead of his blond haired lanky roommate, that was engulfed in the scent of said roommate, which lingered on the bed linen.
Fighting and winning the demons that dragged him back to sleep, he opened his eyes fully. Staying under the covers, keeping his face turned to the opposite wall and hoping his obviously not blonde hair too noticeable above his head, he listened to Michael’s heavy breathing from the other side of the room.
Michael’s breathing was louder in Calum’s ears than it would have been normally, because of how fast his heart was beating. Why it was beating faster Calum didn’t know. Sure, he was in Luke and Michael’s room with an intoxicated Michael, and sure, said intoxicated friend thought he was Luke, but it’s not like Luke hadn’t told him that Calum was going to be in his room tonight. ‘He’ll remember it’s me and not Luke in a minute’ he thought.
Calum looked back on the conversation from earlier in the day. Luke had asked if he could have Calum’s admittedly free room and if he could bunk with Michael tonight. Had he not told Michael that he was even going to be here?.
“He looked so perfect today” Michael gushed. Okay, this was a new advancement; Calum didn’t know Michael liked anyone, even slightly. He pushed aside the stabbing feeling in his chest that the person Michael was talking about was not only not him, but also a boy. If it was a girl Calum would have understood that there wasn’t even an attraction because ’ he didn’t swing that way’. But it was a dagger in the heart to know that it was a boy that Michael had the hots for.
“The way he doesn’t even have to do or be anything other what he has always has been, makes me just want to grab him and tell him everything. God, it’s so hard Luke” he sounded like he was whining at the end. So is that where he had been all this time, seeing this mysterious boy and pinning over him? The burning feeling in the pit of Calum’s stomach was partially driven away with a strong inhale of Michael’s smell from the cushion. It calmed him and he smiled. Then Michael carried on talking.
“I know I can’t say anything about the way I feel because I can’t lose him, he’s so special and everything I want but I can’t have. He’s too precious, too much of everything that everyone else wants. I’ve had him for all this time Luke, and I should be grateful I’ve had him in this way, rather than no way at all. But I think I would rather not of had him as a best friend as I wouldn’t have known what someone else will inevitably have and what I will be missing out on.
“If I hadn’t of known him all these years, then I wouldn’t have known what I was missing, and maybe I wouldn’t have fallen for him. He’s just, god, he’s everything. Why would he pick me anyway? It’s not like I’ve got anything he would possibly want, he already has everything, so he needs someone who can give him even more. I don’t have that, but like hell do I wish I did. God. Why does being in love have to be so hard. ‘cos God do I love him. I’m so in love with him it actually hurts.”
As Michael’s voice filled Calum’s head, albeit muffled from the other boy speaking into the bedspread, the words turning into a swarm of angry bees that crashed around his skull, he felt the corners of his vision blur. It blackened around the edges and tunnelled onto a single point of peeling wallpaper on the wall. Michael was completely in love with someone, someone who even though in moments of weakness whilst alone in the bunk of the tour bus, when Michael was sleeping across from him when all he could here was his breathing, Calum wished was himself, was in fact, someone else. Someone who even though he was one of Michael best friends he had failed to mention. He felt a stab of hatred for this boy, for he had made Michael so flushed and feel unworthy of him, it nipped at the back of Calum’s mind with sharp teeth.
If anything, this seemingly wonderful boy would never be worthy of Michael. He was too bright and vibrant to be tied down by someone who had everything, as Michael described him. And the fact that Michael was in love with said boy, was something that at this time he pushed away. It could be something he would cry himself to sleep over, under the guise of being home sick, another time.
“Mate, are you even listening? Are you actually awake?” Michael grumbled. The sound of ruffling and what sounded like a zipper being undone could be heard, before the deflation of the mattress as he lay down again, potentially with fewer clothes on this time. Calum grunted, hoping it sounded like a grunt anyway. It seemed to pacify Michael, but he sighed anyway before there was more shuffling as he got comfortable in the adjacent bed. Then all was silent. Silent to anyone else anyway, because in Calum’s head it felt like a hundred people were all speaking at once, as each and every single one of Michael’s words tumbled around, knocking down walls and barriers he had built up against this type of hurt as if they were mere piece of taunt paper. But before the crashing of his heart, could lull him into a fitful sleep Michael spoke again.
“Luke,” he muttered, obviously just on the edge of sleep as well. “What sounds Michael Hood or Calum Clifford?” And that was when the cliff of sleep fell away from him, only leaving a cavern of nothingness and leaving Calum very much wide away. His stomach pitched and fell and he bolted upright.
“Luke?” Michael asked, sounding more awake this time. Calum turned to face him and Michael looked at him from where he laid down on his side; his green eyes locked with brown ones. His eyes widened and he slowly sat up. His red, plump, lower lip was quivering, and his deep eyes were flitting around the room as if looking for a way out. His dyed hair was stuck up on one side and flat on the other where he had been lying on it, he looked silly and cute and lost and more importantly absolutely distraught.
Calum took all of this in, with the duvet bunched around his waist from where it had fallen down when he sat up, and thought about how someone couldn’t get more perfect. Michael crossed his legs in front on him so he was facing him, but then he tilted his head upwards to the ceiling. It was spotted with those bumps that you could see patterns in if you looked hard enough. The air was flushing hot and fast out of Michael’s nose as he breathed quickly and erratically, he looked up and tried not to cry. His world was crashing down, whilst Calum’s heart was soaring high. This all happened in the briefest of minutes, the smallest blink of an eye.
“I’m sorry” Michael said with emotion thick in his tone, and at the same time Calum said “Mikey…”.
The other boy looked down, dropping his gaze from the dimpled ceiling to Calum. His bright green eyes were glassy and somewhat dull. “Don’t, Cal,” he croaked, raising his hand up to enforce his point. The hurt in the read heads eyes took his breath away, before it was gone as he closed his eyes and the vivid green was blocked from view. A small tear dropped from his golden eyelashes to the light coloured bed cover. It was only the slightest drop of water, clear and feather light, but it held the weight of a thousand words and broke Calum’s heart as much as a hammer would have done. It was the first tear and it pained him to see it fall more than it did Michael to let it. “You don’t need to say anything” he mumbled, the tear had fallen and the previous words had tumbled out, but now Michael was retreating into himself. “I know” he finished, and this time his voice broke at the end and Calum’s head was spinning, and Michael was crying and both their hearts were breaking.
So, almost as if on autopilot, without saying anything, Calum placed a hand on the duvet and lifted it off himself. Michael sat still crossed legged watching his every move, before dropping his face into his small palms. They covered half of his face, and blocked Calum’s view of his green eyes which had started to water again. His feet hit the soft, black-clothes-littered floor with a small thud, and Michael didn’t even look up.
Calum would have said that he didn’t blink an eye, but seeing as he was balling into his hands he couldn’t actually see his eyes anyway. Taking two steps across the small distance between the two beds, the tanned boy’s knees hit the edge, the bed didn’t shudder from the slight impact and only bounced slightly as Michael’s shoulders raised and fell as he cried. Before Michael could look up, he lifted a leg off the floor and placed one knee on the side of Michael’s thigh, and the other against the opposite one before lowering himself on the older boys lap.
Michael didn’t know what was happening until the moment he had a lap full of the brown haired boy, but when he felt the pressure he seemed to relax, but also coil up with so much pent up emotion he looked like he was going to explode. His body wracked with sobs and the heels of his palms dug into his eyes, something Calum knew would bring bright swirling patterns behind them. The jerking of his body seamed uncontrollable, and it rocked Calum as he sat there.
He reached up with tanned hands to the pale, nail bitten, hands which were covering Michaels face, prising them away from his ghostly pale skin, and as Calum removed them he noticed that Michael’s hands were trembling. They were shaking with the fingers twitching, almost comparable to the way his fingers twitched once he’d stayed up to late clicking away on a computer game after one too many red bulls. He gripped the youngers’ wrist, feeling his pulse against the pads of his fingers, before lowering the pale hands to rest on his waist.
He left them there, but the trembling didn’t stop, Calum hardly felt any pressure because Michael wasn’t really holding his sides, just putting his hands as close to covered, tanned skin as possible whilst his hands fluttered like the trapped wings of a bird. His red lower lip was pulled in by his teeth, and his eyelashes were darker from the wetness of his tears. The skin along the tracks of his tears was almost translucent and his eyes were wet and glassy.
“I don’t have to say anything” Calum whispered to him, picking up on what he said earlier. Inching forwards, Michael’s hands stayed at his sides, touching with more pressure this time, but it still increased then decreased when his hands shook, Calum ghosted his lips over Michaels. Not touching, but if you moved forward just that tiny bit… Michael’s breath hitched in the back of his throat, the air that both of them had been breathing shuddering when he sucking in a breath.
Then the smallest of whimpers fell from the back of the red heads throat, high and whiney and so so desperate. His hands weren’t shaking anymore and now he was gripping the boy’s sides like he was a life line. He wasn’t holding hard enough to bruise but he may as well have been. The vibrations of the whine rippled through the air, heightening Calum’s senses and he flicked his eyes from the red parted lips- of which air was being sucked into at such a fast pace- to his closed eyes. The skin of Michael’s eyelids was softer and more delicate, if anything lighter than his already powder white complexion and the deep dark black of his eyelashes splayed out from this fair skin, onto the high dusted pink of his cheek bones. Calum leaned back, only slightly and rested his forehead against the pale skin of the other boys. Michael’s eyebrows furrowed and Calum felt his forehead crease when they did. The curve of his nose aligned with Calum’s, soft arches swooping down to the ends. But as he memorised and engrained every slight indent and curve of his face, he murmured “Calum, please” it was high and almost demanding, but with no heat behind it. His tone was as light as a feather and it fell out of his mouth just as light as a feather would have done. And Calum gave in.
Pulling his forehead back, at the same time as pushing his lips forward, their lips pressed together and that was it to begin with. Just the pressure of both of their mouths against each other’s before a seemingly uncontrolled tanned hand, which had previously been resting on the top of Michael’s leg conspicuously, reached up to the back of his neck. He simply placed his fingers there, fingerprints feeling the soft skin, and soft red hair as he was kissed, and as he kissed. It was soft and delicate, only a small difference between the press of their mouths and a fleeting touch.
Their jaws didn’t move awkwardly and jauntily as Michael opened his mouth and he didn’t enthusiastically lap at the youngers bottom lip, just slowly, ever so slowly, slotted his lips between, and then not in-between, and then between Calum’s again and again. It was wonderful, euphoric and without meaning to, his fingers laced properly in the back of Michael’s hair. He didn’t tug or pull, just rested it there and let his senses fill up and rush over him. The erratic beating of his own heart didn’t quite feel loud enough in the silence of the room, but he needed to breathe. Michael pulled away, resting his forehead against his tanned forehead, but he didn’t open his eyes to reveal the green depths beneath them.
Calum’s lips were the same deep red as Michael’s now, not raw and kiss bitten, just the right shade only minutely darker than they had been before, but that was okay. When they kissed it was like they were breathing each other’s air, stealing what life their limp body had when they slumped against each other before returning it all at once with the parting of lips.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that”. His voice seamed scratchy, as if he had just woken up and his eyelashes fluttered, giving glimpses of green. The close proximity caused the words that he exhaled to tickle Calum’s lips.
“Well do it again”, his lips brushed against Michael’s the way they had before. He squeezed Calum’s sides, ever so lightly, and a smile tugged at his lips, just the corners pulled up and the tanned boy felt it against his warm cheeks. Michael’s cheeks were hot with the smile and then he fluttered his eyes open.
The piercing green was unnerving, so deep, and vivid and in contrast to his ebony coloured eyelashes, and pale, pale skin, that Calum felt almost in awe of him. Calum could have sworn he saw flecks of the slightest gold in his eyes, but they fluttered shut and they kissed again. And again. And again.