Fetish / 5sos OT4 ✔️

Twenty Nine

Michael's not sure how many times he's re-read Luke's text message since he received it only about five minutes past lunch time.

He'd already been having a shitty morning, waking up alone for starters was the worst part. Then he had to deal with a group of rogue bikers which basically ended up with them being shot dead. Which meant bickering over who in the damn hell was going to dispose of the bodies, evidently he ended up with the job; and that was a real pain in the ass.

So imagine how fucked off he felt when he got a message from Luke saying plain and simple

Ashton doesn't want your sad dick anymore big boy

And by god when he got the attachment of a fucked out Ashton—glazed eyes and sex-hair, flushed skin and glistening sweat—laying across the backseat of Luke's car with the blond's fore and middle fingers in his mouth? He was ready to kill someone.

Preferably Luke.
He wanted to kill Luke.

He had no choice, he was going to goddamn beg the so called king for help and he was willing to do whatever it took to get Ashton back in his arms.

So stuffing his phone into his back pocket of his tight black jeans, he stepped through the entrance of the Meteor strip joint—hands adjusting his leather jacket as he did so.

Each step within heavy black boots were taken with precision, passing by bouncers who had already been told he wasn't a threat to them or the club. The one at the door gave him a slight nod, acknowledging he was going to slip through to the back rooms.

"Hood is in the usual." The man said, and Michael simply took the information without a word; disappearing down the dim corridor as women got themselves ready for their evening shifts that had begun to linger closer.

A few flirtatious winks and not-so-subtle touches from the entertainers later and he was stepping into the same room Calum seemed to always dwell in during his time at the pub. He clicked the door closed behind himself, the lighting still as dark and gloomy as he remembered the last time.

Calum glanced up from where he stood at the bar making himself some strange cocktail of red and black. A raised eyebrow showed he hadn't been expecting Michael to show up.

"And what do I owe this visit?" Calum calmly stopped making his drink, taking in the way Michael's body language screamed with a multitude of emotions.

The biker's shoulders were tense, neck and jaw clenched and body stiff where he stood. His hand kept lingering near his back pocket as though wanting to rip his phone from his pocket at any given second, and the sheer violence in his green eyes was enough to show something wasn't right.

"Ashton doesn't want my dick anymore." Michael blurted through gritted teeth.

Both Calum's eyebrows raised slightly. "Really?"

"Yes really, are you gonna fucking mock me?" Michael snapped. "Cause if so, hurry up and get it done with."

"How do you know he doesn't want you?" Calum moved around the bar counter, leaving his drink as he leaned back against it and crossed his arms over his chest, casual vibe radiating from him as he conversed with the distressed man.

Michael snatched his phone from his pocket just as Calum had suspected he would and scrolled through it for a bit before turning around the screen and grudgingly showing Calum Luke's message. Photo and all.

"Because he's made it real fucking clear I'm not satisfying in any way." Michael let the man take hold of his phone, seething with anger.

"Well... he certainly has." Calum calmly forwarded the photo to his own phone before passing it back to Michael.