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Twitter is a hellscape and a half. Michael’s been on it since November 2011, and while it has its ups and downs, one thing that has always stayed the same in the past 15 years is the easiness of rumours spreading. This past week has been no different; it started with a fan posting a text chat between them and their friend, and had spiralled into a rumour that Calum Thomas Hood had gotten his nipples pierced. He hates to admit it, but Michael got really excited when he heard the news. He would zone out more often than not, he’d fuck up chords during their shows, and would often catch himself staring at Calum’s chest at any point of the day. It doesn’t help that Michael knew Calum went to a piercing shop with Ashton the other day (who refuses to confirm or deny anything), and mixed with the fact that the bassist hasn’t been changing in front of the other guys like he usually does…the signs all point to nipple piercings. Michael was so distracted that he failed to notice the studs in the bassist’s earlobes.
The next day, the news was debunked. The original poster of the rumour posted again saying that the piercing was actually in his ear and not his nipples. Michael saw it the morning of their next show in the North America leg of the tour, and…he was disappointed to say the least. He doesn’t know why he’s gotten so bummed out by the idea of Calum not having that particular piercing, but it’s really dampened his mood for the show tonight. The rumour being debunked had both pros and cons. Fortunately for Michael, it means he no longer has the desire to stare at Calum’s chest. Unfortunately for the band, Michael found that information out a half hour before they were meant to be onstage.
Even after all these years, the band still share a dressing room. They claim it’s superstition, but in reality, they’re just too attached to each other to change things now; they’ve been doing it for 15 years, what’s a few more? Michael’s sitting in his little square of space, a tiny pouch of makeup sitting by the mirror. He doesn’t do much, only some eyeliner and shadow if he’s feeling dangerous (aka, wants to make the fans go nuts online). But right now, he’s too busy in his own head, scrolling through Twitter as fans joke about going through a “mass hallucination” of Calum getting his nipples pierced. He doesn’t notice Calum approaching until he’s sat down beside him.
“Oi, what’re you up to?” He asks, hooking his chin over Michael’s shoulder to get a good look at his phone. Michael, however, quickly shuts his device off and tosses it onto the desk. A part of him, a really deep down part of him, wanted the rumours to be true; he wanted to escape back to his and Calum’s hotel room tonight, help him take his shirt off, and lap at those bars with his tongue. The thought on its own made his whole body tingle with excitement, jeans growing tight. He tries to ignore the feeling, turning his head slightly to get a good look at his best friend’s head on his shoulder.
“Hm?” He hums, before the words register in his mind, “Oh! N-Nothing, I was just…scrolling Twitter.” Damn it. He was way too nervous, Calum is sure to catch on sooner or later.
“Right. And it wouldn’t have anything to do with a particular rumour circling the web, now would it?” He’s too sly for his own good, Calum is. He easily picked apart Michael’s demeanour of anxiety and attraction to a T.
The guitarist's jaw drops, staring at the other male for a minute before looking ahead, which happens to be his mirror, which means Michael comes face-to-face with his own flustered reflection. “How did you–?” He doesn’t finish that thought, especially when he catches a glimpse of Calum’s new earrings, “They look good. Suits you,” he murmurs, trying to divert the conversation into safer territory.
However, Calum’s face twists into something teasing. He slips his hand onto Michael’s thigh, fingers teasing along the seam of his jeans. The guitarist shudders, eyes fluttering around the room to make sure nobody is looking. Luke and Ashton are sitting on the couch across the dressing room, the elder male looking over the younger’s shoulder to see whatever Tiktok he’s looking at on his phone. They’re not paying any attention to the sexual tension by the dressers, nor the way Calum leans over and brushes his lips against the shell of Michael’s ear, whispering, “They’re not looking. They’re too busy scrolling Tiktok.” With that, Calum squeezes Michael’s thigh, making him shudder.
“Stop teasing me.” He’s getting annoyed now, but not enough to actually be angry. He’s just…flustered. His hand shoots down, clamping over Calum’s own, “You’re making fun of me.” He sounds like a child right now, which isn’t exactly the definition of sexy. Calum barks out a laugh, burying his face in Michael’s shoulder to stifle the choked sounds. Luke and Ashton glimpse over but quickly look away when they realise that the two men are flirting with each other. “Cal!” Michael squeals, pushing the bassist’s head up and gently gripping his bleach blond curls in his grip.
“You really wanted to see me with nipple piercings!” He teases, reveling in the way Michael’s face turns bright red. He vaguely hears Luke let out a choked gasp from the other side of the room, followed by boyish giggles and the door shutting behind them as they escape. Michael glances towards the door with wipe eyes, smacking Calum’s bicep as a way of scolding him. The bassist giggles, squeezing Michael’s thigh again. “Admit it, you wanted to see them. I’ve seen you staring at my chest lately, why else would you think I was wearing such tight shirts?"
The guitarist’s face turns beetroot red. Instead of talking, Michael stands and drags Calum with him to the couch. He pushes him down and straddles his lap, thighs on either side of his hips. “Shut the fuck up, right this second,” he breathes, leaning down to capture Calum’s lips with his own. Instead of starting off sweet and sensual, Michael goes full throttle, hands grasping at the bassist’s cheek and neck to pull him closer. He refuses to let them come up for air, not wanting these last, fleeting minutes to go to waste. He doesn’t even realise until it’s too late that Calum has grabbed his hand, pulling it to rest flat-palmed against his chest, thumb resting on the edge of his nipple.
“You probably wish there was a metal bar here, huh? Something to tug, to play with.” Calum enjoys the way Michael whines over him, shaking his head and burying his face in the space between his jaw and collarbone. “I bet you’d love to wrap your lips around it, wouldn’t you?” If it weren’t for the way he’s laughing through the sentence, Michael would be thrilled to have Calum whispering dirty talk in his ear. But through laughter…it feels like a humiliation ritual. He knows Calum isn’t actually trying to make him feel like shit, hence why Michael has the sense to sit up and kiss his bassist senseless again.
Despite the time running out, they sit there until nothing else matters, tangled up in legs, arms and whispered teases. Calum only breaks apart to whisper things in Michael’s ear, each sentence making him tremble with pent up excitement. But both men know they don’t have time to do anything more than make out in the privacy of their dressing room. Plus, as Michael often teases, a quickie isn’t exactly in Calum’s skillset. Time passes, until Calum’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and there’s a sharp knock at the dressing room door. Both men know what it means; they’re going to be late onstage. As the door cracks open a smidge, both men hear the whispers between Luke and Ashton, who are stifling boyish giggles, “Hey, loverboys! We’re already late, we gotta go.” They’re acting as if they themselves haven’t been making out in one of the backstage closets.
Groaning, Michael sits up and pushes himself off of Calum’s lap, “Idiots,” he murmurs, flipping off the two heads peaking out through the ajar door. Luke and Ashton only pop in to grab the last of their stuff before disappearing to get ready to go onstage, leaving Michael and Calum to have the last of their discussion before joining them. “So,” Michael murmurs, cheeks still dusted pink with lingering embarrassment, “You aren’t mad?”
“Mad? Mikey, I will get them pierced just for you, if you want. You looked like a dog in heat when you thought I got ‘em done, and I want that replicated in bed.” The bluntness only stuns Michael further into silence. He can only manage to nod and watch as Calum exits the dressing room. They have a long night ahead of them, he can’t get distracted just yet. As he meets the rest of the guys in the area before heading out on stage, Ashton nudges his shoulder, smirking and raising an eyebrow at him. Michael grits his teeth, “So…when were you going to tell me it was his ears?” He watches as the drummer shrugs, a smug grin plastered across his face.
“Never,” he laughs, “I wanted to see how long it would take for you to figure it out yourself.”