'5SOS boyxboy smut'

Muke~Tell me all the things that I wanna hear

"Earth to Dorkatron, come in Dorkatron." Michael calls, laughing and waving a hand in Luke's face.

Luke shakes himself out of it and somehow manages to make himself look at least slightly offended, but not before noticing that Michael's now got a shirt on. "Dorkatron? What are you, five?" He snorts.

"Yes, now pay attention to meeeeeee." Michael whines, flopping down on the too small sofa next to Luke and poking his cheek.

Luke rolls his eyes, because if only Michael knew. "I always pay attention to you, dumbass." Despite his words, he wraps his arm around Michael's shoulders and pets at his hair the way Michael likes.

"You're mean." Michael pouts, huffing as he leans further into Luke's touch. "Ashtooon, Luke's being mean to me."

The oldest boy looks away from his phone, staring from across the room. "I'm pretty sure you called him Dorkatron like two minutes ago, so him calling you dumbass just makes it even."

Luke grins triumphantly, biting back a chuckle when Michael huffs again. "Whatever. You're all tacky and I hate you." The red haired boy complains.

Calum scoffs from the doorway, having walked in right when Michael was whining. He looks mildly offended, his arms thrown out to the side. "Come on bro, I didn't even say anything!"

"Okay, except Calum. Calum's cool and ruggedly handsome." Michael amends, winking at the Maori boy.

Luke pouts because he wants Michael to call him ruggedly handsome and cool and maybe a few other things too but that can wait. He settles for tugging Michael closer and stroking his hair as lovingly as he can, earning a hum of contentment and a small smile. He takes the tiny victory and tries not to smirk, happy to have won Michael over for the moment. But there's still the nagging problem of his hormones and his desire to get a hand around—or preferably in—himself, but he obviously can't do that here. He's got to wait at least 20 more minutes, that's when they'll get back to their hotel rooms, thankfully four separate ones. He'll be able to get most of it out of his system then, and he'll have the ability to function around Michael without growing a mountain in his pants every time the older boy walks by.

Luckily their tour manager calls them out to the car a minute later, and Luke's scrambling to get out from under Michael and into the car, like if he moves fast then time will move faster. But the universe seems dead set on torturing him, and not only are boys moving slow but the city traffic is at a dead stop. Luke groans, flopping his head back against the seat and fighting the urge to reach down and palm his aching cock to relieve the tension building up. Fortunately enough, he's not the only one complaining about the delay so he doesn't sound out of place. He starts bouncing his leg up and down and counting numbers in random patterns like he used to do when they first started flying around the world and he had to get rid of his small fear of flying. It calms him down enough to get him through the next 45 minutes of hell trapped next to the object of his frustration.
The hotel looks like the best thing he's ever seen when they pull into the parking lot, Luke jumping out and speed walking inside and into the elevator without a second glance. Bless his abnormally long legs for allowing big strides that cover twice the amount of surface area that regular strides do, because he's in his room and ripping his clothes off in 3 minutes tops. He doesn't have to search long for his vibrator and his vanilla flavored lube (also found and purchased during a late night Google crawl). He's breathes a sigh of relief and he slides his boxers down and throws himself on the big inviting bed, biting his lip as the lube cap clicks open. He gets his fingers sufficiently sticky and wastes no time lifting his right leg up against his chest and teasing his fingers around his rim. He lets out a shaky breath and he dares to push two fingers in at once, knowing he can handle it if he really wants to. It burns only briefly, but once he starts moving and spreading them it gets a lot smoother and he can slip in a third. He's tempted to fist himself again like he managed to finally do the other night, but he really just wants to come quickly and frequently, and he'd have to go super slow if he wants his whole fist to fit again. So, maybe some other time when he hasn't been desperate for over an hour.