Fetish / 5sos OT4 ✔️

Forty Two

It was still dark by the time Michael opened his tired eyes, green focussing on his dim surroundings as his mind caught up to the present moment. Far from the begging moans he had been screaming for Calum hours prior.

The sad part was waking up alone. A cold chill had spread across the other half of Calum's huge bed and Michael didn't want to think about how long he had been lying in bed alone. Lonely like he always was.

With a grumble, he sat up; rubbing his eyes and wincing at the shock of welcome pain that ran up his back. Damn Calum had really done a number on his now aching and sore body.
He crawled out of bed, black sheets pooling at his waist before he pushed them off and stepped onto the flooring; eyes focused on the soft glow of light that he followed through the hallway.

It must've been late at night, early morning, judging by how dark and quiet everything was.

He continued his careful trek further through the home, careful not to wake Mali up on the occasion she had come home at some point that night. It wasn't until he reached the edge of the light source did he realise where Calum had gone off to.

Standing quiet in the archway of the entertainment room, Michael peered inside to find Calum slumped over his bar counter with a second bottle of what looked like Whiskey next to him. His glass was almost empty, and Michael easily assumed he was stone cold drunk.

Though the phone in his hand and the tears down his face was a different story and Michael wanted to know it.

"I didn't mean to." Calum sobbed, miserable. "I told him not to, I swear I told him not to-!"

Michael hugged his arms tightly around himself, standing in silence as he watched with worried eyes and keen ears.

"Harry-" Calum choked up.

Green eyes widened. Harry?

"I miss you." He cried, slumping his head against the countertop. "It's not fair..."

Michael cautiously inched his way closer, standing back just enough so he could hear Harry's static voice come through the speaker phone.

"You don't miss me, Calum." Harry spoke with a stern yet soft voice, a tone that showed he'd clearly had this conversation before. "You miss what we had."

"I didn't fucking mean for any of that shit to happen." Calum drifted between his tangents. "I told him not to fucking go near you—you absolute fucking cunt! I warned him!"

"Yes well..." Harry seemed bitter. He should be, he got beat up and his boyfriend got shot because of the four boys who couldn't get themselves together.  "You lot need to learn some communication skills, just because you believe Ashton's innocent doesn't mean he is."

Michael's blood boiled. Harry had no right to talk about Ashton after what he'd done!

"I know-" Calum muttered, helpless and drunk.

"Calum, you know I wouldn't hurt someone. I asked him and he said yes, I'd never force someone to do drugs. I never even forced you."

"How's Louis?" Calum's voice was cold and empty when he asked his question; knowing it was courteous but not wishing he had to.

"Louis will be fine."

"I'm sorry..."

"I know."

Calum choked on a sob, the tears falling from his eyes once more. "Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you Calum, I love you so much."

"No you don't!" Calum smashed his fist against the countertop and Michael really wished he could bundle the man up and hold him until his broken heart had glued back together again.