I Don't Need It To Be Easy, I Need It To Be Worth It [Malum]

Full Story

Calum is a yoga mum.

Well, not really, he's actually a nineteen year old engineering student, but he is still part of the L.A rich yoga mums group.

It all started two months ago, in January. Calum wasn't the most sportive person, but he made the new year's resolution of changing his lifestyle into a healthier one - one where he didn't sleep half of the time and ate cold pizza with disgusting reheated french fries at four AM while watching One Piece.

"I'm going to the gym," said Calum one afternoon, warning his roommate that he was heading out.

Ashton, sitting on the couch, turned his head to look at him, an eyebrow raised, "You? At the gym? Right," he said.

Calum stopped in his tracks, somewhat offended by his friend's comment, because what was that supposed to mean?

"Yes, me at the gym," he replied. "It's not that hard to believe," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, actually, yes it is," contradicted the hazel-eyed man. "Come on Cal, don't lie to me. Are you meeting with someone?" Ashton asked, curious.

Calum restrained a groan at the possibility of him seeing someone. He had been single for a good three months, and his last relationship was a mess. He wasn't going back to that territory anytime soon.

"No, I am actually going to the gym." He sighed, "Can't you see, sport shoes," he indicated in a 'duh' tone, pointing at his feet, "Nike sports bag," he added, shaking his large blue and black bag, hanging from his shoulder.

Ashton's eyes widened, "No way! I never thought I'd see the day Calum Hood would do anything sportive. And I say an-y-thing. I mean, you even get your subway delivered here," he said, incredulously.

The tan boy's cheek heated up and became the faintest shade of red, "Well, I don't like walking," he shrugged.

"It's right across the street mate."

Okay, saying that Calum wasn't the most sportive person might've been the euphemism of the century, but he was going to change that.

"Well, I decided to become healthy," he said in a resolute tone. "So no more lazing on the couch all day, and no more eating three Haagen Dazs in one hour every saturday night."

His friend snorted, "And what? Are you gonna start drinking detox cucumber smoothie and do yoga?" he questioned teasingly.

"No," scoffed Calum.

And that's how he ended up in a yoga studio in L.A, full of rich white women - plus Sue and Krishna - in their late thirties.

Right now, he's in a yoga studio, imitating the position Krishna, his yoga teacher, is in: she's lying on her front, her bust slightly raised and supported by her right arm, with her left leg folded in half at her side while the hand from the same side his pushing on her foot.

Calum recognises the half frog position. He had trouble mastering it at first, not being flexible enough - and also because he signed up for an intermediate class, even if he's a beginner, thinking it wouldn't be that hard - but now, he could keep this position for a few seconds without batting an eye.

"Remember to breathe," Krishna reminds them.

Calum inhales and exhales at the rhythm of the soft music playing in the speakers. He feels so relaxed and at peace when he does yoga, it allows him to not think about the stressful things happening in his life by focusing on his breathing and his positions.

It is also a nice contrast with the Los Angeles life, which seems to be always active, and fast, and moving. With yoga, Calum feels like he is there, in the moment. He doesn't need to rush, he just needs to take his time, and breathe.

"And let's end our session with a cat pose," comes Krishna's sweet voice.

The brunet almost mechanically moves on all fours, rounding his back and ducking his head down.

"Now remember," says the teacher again, "we raise our head and arch our back when we inhale, and we round our back and bow our head while we exhale," she explains.

Calum does as she says. He can feel the tension in his body leaving him, and his head being cleared of its thoughts.

Once the music stops, Krishna tells all of the others to stop and get back up.

"Thank you for coming here today," she tells them, smiling. " Namaste ," she said as goodbye, her palms joined as if she was praying.

" Namaste ," repeated Calum, along with everyone.

Then, he heads out to the changing room, putting on grey plaid trousers, a white marcel top with a chain and black leather boots.

When he gets out, the women in his yoga class are waiting for him, as always.

"So ladies," he says, sending them his most charming smile, "how is it going?"

"We were talking about going to Karen's house for brunch on sunday," says Sue, a tall, dark skinned woman with short hair and dark eyes.

There is this thing they do, where the rich yoga mums will invite Calum everywhere, the country club, Nobu or any fancy restaurant, poker nights and more, and he never had to pay. Apparently, they do this because he is substituting for their children who 'never wanna do anything with them' and who are 'always too busy with their phones to interact with their mothers.'

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, apparently she has this new smoothie recipe she read about in cosmo," adds Poppy, a platinum blond pink lover lady on his right.

"Oh really? What's in it?" he asks

"Cucumber!" replies cheerfully Martha and Calum does his best not to grimace.

"Oh well, it sounds... tasty," he tries.

"So you'll come?" questions Karen.

"Of course I'll come!" he answers. And he meant it: Karen was by far his favourite. She was funny, and sassy, and her personality reminded Calum of his own mother, Joy, who he doesn't see much since she lives in Australia.

"Great!" she says happily. "Also, my son Michael might be there. Or maybe he'll be running around in dark alleys with a speaker blasting songs talking about death and biting people 's to suck they're blood until they die, I never know with him."

Calum chuckled at that: according to what he heard, Karen's son has a tendency to dress 'emo', with dark clothing, piercings, eye liner and dyed hair. Hence the reason why his mum talks about him like he's a vampire.

"Michael still doesn't wanna let go of his punk rock phase?" asked a curly haired ginger named Cathleen, and Karen shakes her head.

The redhead nods knowingly, "My children are the same you know. Quinn likes to dress like they're going to Halloween, and Nate always looks like he's attending a funeral. I keep telling them to dress properly but what are you gonna do, they never listen to their parents. I swear, kids these days... It's their phones, I'm telling you!"

"Well that wouldn't have happened if you took care of them instead of letting them with a sixteen year old nanny every night while you bone every man that crosses your way," mumbles Poppy, so low that only Calum hears it.

He bites his bottom lip, stopping a laugh. What? Yes it was petty, it was mean and judgmental, but what can he say: he lives for the drama, the gossip and the hypocrisy that came with being a rich L.A yoga mum. It's highly entertaining.

"Yeah, kids are difficult sometimes," agrees Karen.

"Well my Adriano is a perfect little angel," brags Marietta in a high pitched voice. "He is a quarterback, the star of the Ravenwood sharks, and he has such good grades," she sighs. "I swear, all I hear is his teachers praising him: Adriano this, Adriano that... And the girls at his school must throw themselves at hi-""

"That's great Marietta," cuts Karen. "Well I have to go, see you sunday then."

"Yeah me too," adds Calum. "Well, see you soon, ladies," he says, throwing one last Colgate smile at them.

"See you soon Calum!" they all reply in chorus.

He and Karen walk out of the studio, and as soon as they're out, she rolls her eyes, "Marietta is full of shit."

Calum looks at her, surprised. Sure, the woman would gossip, from type to type, and was sometimes involved in meaningless petty drama, but she rarely used colourful language to qualify one of her peers.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"Well, Michael happens to be really good at maths, and he tutors her kid. Of course, she doesn't know that, because he's always the one who's going to their place, and he never wears his dark clothes there, so he doesn't fit my description of him. But anyways, I know for a fact that Adriano doesn't have perfect grades, in fact, if he doesn't get at least a C on his next test he's out of the football team," she explains, and Calum's jaw is just about to fall.

Yes, he recognises that, he's overreacting a bit, but it's really fun okay. He came to find out that having disproportionate reactions towards minor events is a good way to make your life more interesting. Or to make it seem more interesting.

The blond woman nods, "Yes, and the only thing he has in common with an angel is his ability to get really high, but he uses weed instead of wings."

Calum laughs at that, this woman always had something cheeky to say.

"Wow," he says.

"Yeah, and his girlfriend just broke up with him for another because recruiters are going to see him, and not Adriano," she adds.

"Damn!" exclaims Calum, genuinely sorry for the teen. Cathleen was kinda right: kids these days...

"Well, here's my car," says Karen, stopping at a shiny black sports car. "Do you want me to give you a ride?" she proposes to Calum.

"Oh don't worry, I got this K, I don't live that far," he declines.

"Don't be silly boy, get in there," she demands, making Calum grin. "Tell me where you live."

"Two blocks away from here, close to the university," he tells her.

"Oh I know where it is, my son goes there!"

"Really? Me too! What's he studying?" questions Calum.

"Engineering, third year," she replies.

"Hey, I'm in my second year of engineering! Maybe I've seen him," says the tan boy.

"Maybe," she replies. "We're here right?" she asks him.

Calum looks around and recognises his street, "Yep, thanks a lot K, you didn't have to, you already spoil me so much," he tells her.

"And I don't plan on stopping anytime soon, as long as you clean my pool next week like you said you would," she smiled.

"I will, don't worry," he promised her.

"Good. See you in four days," says Karen.

"Yeah, see ya," he replies, getting out of the car. He turns to her and does a cute little wave before entering his building.

When he opens his apartment door, he's presented with a very disturbing and disgusting sight, in his opinion at least: Luke riding Ashton on the living room floor.

"Jesus Christ!" he says, closing his eyes. "Couldn't you two sluts do it in a fucking room like normal people?"

An embarrassed blush coats the blond's cheek, while his boyfriend under him chuckles, "Sorry Cal," says Ashton.

"Are you really?" asks the brunet, skeptical.

"No," he answers smiling.

"Fuck you."

"But I rather fuck Luke," he says, teasingly, while thrusting his hips up, and the naked boy on top doesn't have time to bite back his whine, taken by surprise.

"Seriously," says Calum, incredulously, only earning a smile from his roommate.

"I'm going to shower," he warns, "and you two whores better be dressed and decent when I come back."

"Yes daddy," replies Ashton cheekily, and Luke almost whines again at that.

This time, Calum doesn't say anything and rolls his eyes, before heading towards the bathroom.

Who the fuck does that, seriously? God, he needed to find new friends.

After a good shower, Calum changes into more comfortable clothes, and goes back to the living room, praying for his friends to be fully clothed. He hadn't heard any moaning during his shower, which was a hopeful sign.

When he walks in the living room, he has the pleasure to find both Ashton and Luke wearing sweatpants and shirts, accompanied by Roy.

"Hey Cal," he greets him.

"Hi mate," he replies, "I didn't know you were joining us tonight."

"Yeah, it was very last minute, but look," he says, holding up two bags in his hand, "I brought Taco Bell!"

"Dude, I love you right now, I'm starving," replies Calum.

He did say that he was going to be more healthy, but that doesn't mean he can't allow himself to eat a bit of junk food here and there.

"Why, the seeds and vegetables diet ain't doing it for you anymore?" teases Ashton.

The brunet ignores him, and he takes a bag from Roy, "Should we watch a movie while we eat?"

"Good idea," says Luke. "I really want to watch an action movie."

"I wanna watch Transformers," intervens Roy.

"No, those suck," contradicts the hazel eyed one. "We should watch Pulp Fiction!"

"But Ash, we've seen it a thousand times!" complains his boyfriend.

"And we'll watch it a thousand more babe," he replied.

"What about Fight Club?" suggested Calum.

"Or Fast and Furious," proposed Roy.

"Godzilla vs Kong!"

"Mission: Impossible!"

"Jurassic Park!"

And it went on for about fifteen minutes, until they finally agreed on the movie they're watching right now, while stuffing their faces with tacos: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. A classic.

~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~

Calum's day is already bad. He's late, because yes, staying up with your friends to laugh your ass off until three is fun, but it also means you might sleep through your seven AM alarm.

Which is what's happening to Calum right now, who just woke up confused. 'My alarm hasn't rung yet ', he thought, mistakingly.

It's only after grabbing his phone, turning it on and seeing 7:45 appearing that he realised: 'My alarm already rang?'

"Fuck," he says, before rushing out of bed.

But he stands up too fast and starts to feel light-headed. It's okay though, he knows if he just waits a bit, it'll pa-

He wakes up again , even more confused than before, with severe pain on his arm and left side of his head.

He fainted.

'What a fucking idiot' , he thinks, before slowly getting back up, not without a groan of pain.

He opens his wardrobe, takes jeans, a random shirt he thinks is clean, a black jacket and a black beanie and throws it on as quickly as he can.

Then, he only wets his face with water from his sinks, grabs an apple and takes his backpack before heading out.

Shit.

He didn't take the keys.

Calum groans once again, but decides it doesn't matter right now: he has to get to class. He eats his breakfast on his way, throwing the apple core at a stray dog when he's done, and then he starts running.

When he arrives at the uni, it's already 8:13, and by the time he gets to class, it'll be at least 8:25.

Calum sighs in defeat, before running towards his class, not caring about anyone or anything around him. It's only when he hits someone and gets a coffee spilled on his shirt that he realises that maybe, he should've been more careful about his surroundings.

"Watch where you're going, Jesus fuck," reprimands the guy he just hit.

It's a blond man, with a mullet and red dyed edges. He's wearing dark blue eyeshadow and matching nail polish, a black choker and an all black and dark blue outfit and piercings, and 'Fuck' , thinks Calum, 'this guy's hot' .

"Yeah, I'm so sorry, did I make you spill your coffee on you too? I'm really sorry I was just trying to get to-" he starts while getting up, before Hot Punk Rock Guy interrupts him:

"I don't care. Give me 2.58," he demands, after he gets back up.

Calum looks at him, a dumbfounded expression on his face. "Excuse me?"

"That's how much my coffee costs. Give it to me."

'Well, this guy's kinda rude' thinks Calum, the attitude of the blond destroying any attraction he had to him.

"You could say please," he tells him.

"But I don't want to," the rude guy says, "so you're gonna do what I say, and give 2.58 bucks. And hurry, I don't have all day," he continues, impatiently.

Calum can feel himself getting angry by the second. Who does this emo-punk-wanna-be think he is?

"And why should I listen to you?"

"Because, see, if you don't, I'll get mad. And you don't want me to get mad," he replies, his eyes darkening with anger.

Calum is hesitating. Sure, he isn't afraid of the blond in front of him, but he doesn't want to start a fight, and he doesn't want to be even more late to class, this situation is already not helping his case.

He bites the inside of his cheek and swallows his pride before reaching in his pocket. He really didn't want to back down but he didn't really have a choice if he wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible, and also without a black eye or a few bruises.

"Here", the brunet says, handing out a five dollar bill, and adds when he sees the other smirking, "I'm only giving it to you because you're making me late."

The Rude Punk Rock Guy brutally snatches the money from Calum's hand, "Whatever fucktard," and walks away.

"Hey!" he calls, "Give me your phone so we can meet up and you can give me my 2.42 back!"

What? Calum is very protective and careful with his money.

"No!" comes the response, and he swears he can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Asshole," he mutters under his breath and checks the time.

Great. It's now 8:24. He was going to be more than thirty minutes late now, just because of some punk who thinks he's above everyone.

When he arrives at his class, the teacher sighs, reprimands him, and tells him to take a seat. Calum feels so embarrassed, having the whole class's attention on him, while he knows he's wearing a mediocre coffee-stained outfit.

He walks up the amphitheatre, heads down and trips. He feels even more awkward, and his cheeks are burning red as he hears a few snickers.

Damn, this is really the worst day ever and it's not even nine yet.

~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~

"I wanna die," is the first thing Calum says after getting back to his place at seven PM. What a long day it has been for him.

He slumps on the couch next to Ashton, who's watching Sailor Moon on the TV.

"Well that's not dramatic at all," replies his roommate, not even sparing him a glance.

"I literally just had the worst day of my life," he complains.

On top of being late, losing 5 dollars, and having coffee spilled on him, he forgot he had a presentation after lunch. He had prepare of course, wrote notes and everything, but wouldn't you guess who grabbed his backpack without looking at what was in it this morning? Yeah, this guy.

This time Ashton looks at him, amused, "Does it beat the day you shit yourself in front of your crush?."

Calum glares at him, until he hears a giggle coming and turns around just to see Luke coming out of the kitchen.

"What are you doing here?" he asks him.

"When am I not here?" answers the blond.

"Whatever. Hey, are you the one who told him about the Mandy thing?"

Luke nods, laughing once more, "Yeah, but you can't hate me for that, it's an hilarious story."

"It is," agrees Ashton, chuckling along with his boyfriend.

Calum rolls his eyes, "Yeah well it was second grade, everyone has embarrassing story from that time," he defends himself.

"Sure Calum," says Luke, mockingly, as Ashton says "Totally."

"I hate you both, just want you to know."

"We know," says the two boyfriends, cooing at each other after realising the said the same thing at the same time.

'That's disgusting... ly cute' , can't help but think Calum.

Seeing his two friends like that, being all in love and cutesy, it makes him kind of jealous, he can't lie.

It's not like he feels lonely, or that he has the need of finding his true love or whatever, but when he sees how happy Luke and Ashton make each other, how they always manage to brighten the other's day, Calum starts to think that, maybe it'd be nice to have something like that too.

His train of thoughts is interrupted by a whimper on his right, and he turns his head just to catch Luke in Ashton's lap, messily making out with his boyfriend, their hands all over each other.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!"

~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~

Calum is in front of Karen's house, no scratch that, Karen's mansion, and he's impressed - very impressed.

In front of the large, large , residence, there is a small pond, perfecty square-shaped, and a fucking foutain.

The bushes are green, neatly cut, and beautiful trees are framing the big set of stairs leading to the entrance, as well as beautiful columns that remind him of Greek mythology.

Calum is escorted to the front door by some worker, he doesn't exactly know what his job is. He thanks them and opens the door, revealing his favourite rich L.A mum waiting for him.

"Calum! Hello, come in, come in," she greets him, letting him walk into her home.

"Hi K, nice to see you," he smiles. "What a nice place you got there," he compliments.

The interior of the mansion is very beautiful as well, mixing traditional design with modernity. There are chandeliers, big staircases, marble, and more of those columns, but there are also contemporary paintings and art, and trendy pieces of furniture.

"Well thank you, aren't you charming?" she replies, smiling at him. "Follow me, the rest are waiting for us outside."

"Everyone is already here?"

"Well not Gina because she 'feels really tired'," answers the bleach blond woman, rolling her eyes.

"Do you still think she's sleeping with your ex-husband?" Calum asks.

God, he's starting to truly enjoy the gossip now.

Karen looks at him, seriously, "No Calum. I know so. One time, I was picking up Michael, and I saw this bitch's car coming in his street. Then she did a half-turn, but I think it's because she saw me."

The tan man shakes his head, "What a false-arse. She always says how you two were the 'perfect couple', and it's 'so sad you drifted apart' or some bollocks like that."

"I know right?" exclaims Karen. "And here I am, inviting her to my brunch, like a good egg."

"You're not a good egg K, that could've been a good idea: you could've interrogated her about why she wasn't in class three wednesdays ago, the same day Daryl got back from his business trip..." argues Calum

"Oh, and maybe you could've stolen her phone to look in it!" she adds

"We'll do that next session, at the end of the class, I'll distract her and you can look into her phone."

"Or I can pretend to be late, and look into her phone while changing..."

"Or maybe I can say that I have evening classes and have to get out early..."

The pair giggles and makes plans to investigate Gina's phone while walking toward the back yard. They know they're never going to do all of those mischieving schemes they are imagining, but it feels good pretending they were petty teenage girls in a Netflix rom-com.

"Oh, here we are," announces Karen.

They just arrived in the never-ending backyard, which seemed to go on for kilometers on end. There's a large swimming pool with at least twenty long chairs, a pit with couches and chairs and coffee tables, and a beautiful garden.

On the terrace, an enormous table was set-up, with tons of plates full of various drinks foods. All the girls from the yoga class - except for Gina - are sitting around it, including Krishna, the yoga instructor.

"Ladies, look who I'm bringing," says the blond mum at Calum's side, a bright smile illuminating her features.

"Hello girls," he greets them, not without his oh so famous charming smile.

"Hi Calum, how are you?" asks a jet black-haired woman.

"I'm doing alright, thanks Vivyan." he tells her

"Ah, is school hard?" questions a grey-eyed woman called Cyrielle.

"Yeah, I've had a rough end of the week," replies Calum, taking his place, next to Karen of course.

"Oh no! Too much work?" wonders Jill, a muscular girl with an undercut.

"I've been there," intervenes Ruth's sweet voice. ""School is tough, kid."

Calum chuckles, "True, but it's not even that, it's just... I had a bad encounter on Thursday, and it kinda ruined the rest of the week."

Freda, the Italian one who always wears Versace glasses - Calum thought she was just that type of person, but as it turns out, she's blind... welp -, shakes her head, "People are so rude nowadays. They just don't know how to behave, especially the young ones. It's like their parents never taught them respect!"

Her comment earns nods from all around the table, that she obviously cannot see -Calum can't help but think 'That's a bit inconsiderate of them' -, as well as a remark from Cathleen:

"It's that damn phone..."

The brunet isn't really sure if he should roll his eyes or laugh at that.

"But don't worry Cal darling, knowing you, you're gonna do great and in your future, you'll have such a high position, people would be obligated to respect you," assures him Guenièvre, the eldest.

"Thank you GG," he says, not really seeing himself at the top of the hierarchy, but appreciating the compliment nonetheless.

"Anyways, back to the brunch," says Pamelia, the only real blond girl at the table. "Everything looks delicious Karen!"

Calum couldn't agree more. His mouth was watering just by looking at the plates.

"My chef, Greta Laursen, made it with her team. She's amazing, really," the woman replies.

"Isn't she the one who cooked at your divorce party?" asks Martha.

Karen had a divorce party ? 'Iconic' , thought Calum. God, could he love that woman more.

"Yes, that's her!"

"Ugh, her falafels were a-maz-ing," compliments Marietta.

"Yeah, and her fried tofu? It was literally to die for," adds Sue.

"Well you're lucky: both of these options are on the menu," Karen tells them. "As well as onion pie, pilaf rice, red bean pancakes, vegan sushi, vegetable gluten free wraps, fruits, cucmber detox smoothie of course, and more."

"I like that most of your options are vegan, vegetalian or vegetarian," says Krishna.

"Of course, I gotta respect everyone's food restriction," replies the bleach blond one with a smile.

"Can we get started?" asks Calum, feeling his stomach grumble.

"Of course! Bon appétit ladies," she replies. "Oh, and Calum," she adds, grinning at him.

"Bon appétit girls," he says, raising his mimosa filled glass.

~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~

The brunch goes by greatly: Calum is stuffing his face, laughing at Karen's jokes, listening to everyone's gossip, especially Poppy's: she has the most juicy scandals - Karen says it's because she's always in everybody's business, and frankly the brunet could see that.

After a while though, everyone starts to leave. It's already almost four in the afternoon, they were here for a good four hours, meaning it's time to go for Calum: he had promised Sierra he'd help her with her essay since he always gets at least 80%. What a nerd.

But before he left, he had to do something first: "Hey K, where's the bathroom please?"

The woman indicates to him a room at the end of a long corridor, and the tan man ventures down, a bit scared to get lost.

Seriously, who needs a house this big when you only live by yourself, or your son once every two weeks?

As he walks towards the toilets, a door opens, and reveals a man, shorter than Calum, wearing loose ripped jeans, worn out red Converse, black boots, a Led Zeppelin shirt, a leather jacket and a choker with spikes on it.

Calum thinks it's a really cool outfit, so he raises his eyes to see the other's face, see if these cool-ass clothes belong to someone looking just as cool.

'A outfit like this one can only belong to someone hot', he thinks to himself.

He stops dead in his tracks, instantly recognising him.

"Fucktard? What are you doing here? Are you really that desperate for a few bucks that you followed me to my place? Damn, that's really creepy you know, I might get a restraining order if you-" starts Rude Punk Rock Guy From Uni before the brunet interrupts him:

"You're Michael? Karen's son?"

"Yeah, how d'you know her," he questions, narrowing his eyes.

"From yoga class, I was invited here," replies the brunet.

Something flashes in Michael's eyes, and Calum is pretty sure it's rage.

"So you're Calum Hood huh," he says with a tone that confirms the tan man's suspicions. "You think I don't know what you're doing?" he asks him, angrily.

Calum is really confused, "What are you talking about?"

Michael only scoffs at that. "Don't even try to play dumb with me fucktard, I know people like you," he says, tone harsh.

"I have absolutely no fucking clue of what you're talking about," replies the brunet, quickly losing patience.

The blond one chuckles without humour, "Alright, you wanna play dumb, fine. But don't go anywhere near my mum again, got it?"

Now, Calum is starting to get angry too, "Who the fuck do you think you are? I'll hang out with who I want, I'm not gonna let a wanna be Billie Joe Armstrong dictate my life."

Michael is smirking now, "Cute insult," he says mockingly. "I wonder how clever you have to be to come up with this, what a sass genius."

"Fuck you."

"You're just proving my point," says the blond one.

"Whatever. If I wanna go to brunch with your mum, I will. If I wanna go to the country club with her, I will. If I wanna go to Nobu with her, I will, and there's nothing you can do about it," says Calum.

Why would he let this guy tell him what he can and can't do? Why is this guy so against the idea of Calum being friends with his mum? Does he hate him that much, just because of a coffee he reinsured him - which, Michael could clearly afford, since he lives in a fucking mansion, and now he realises that he probably just wanted to annoy him. Asshole.

"Fine, but just so you know Hood, wherever you guys will go, I'll follow. I'll watch you," he warns.

"Why Clifford? Aww you should've told me you missed your mommy affection. If I had known you were jealous, I wouldn't have monopolised all her attention," replies the brown-eyed man.

Calum sees fire burning in the balck eyeliner framed green eyes. Oh, did he hit a nerve?

"Don't pretend you don't know what this is all about fucktard."

"I'm not pretending anything, asshole."

"Whatever," is the last thing Michael says, shoving Calum's shoulder hard while passing him.

'P robably that damn phone...', he thinks as he resumes to his previous business..

~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~

Michael keeps his promise, and starts showing up everywhere Calum and the L.A yoga mums go.

"I swear Ashton, it's a nightmare. It's like he's omniscient- like God!" he complains to his roommate.

"Did you just compare the guy you hate to God ?" asks Roy, a smile in his voice.

"Okay well, like Satan, happy?" Calum corrects himself.

Ashton sighs, he's used to his friend overreacting, but that doesn't mean he's a fan of ot, "Come on, it can't be that bad. He follows you, and so what?"

Calum scoffs, "Well first of all, he's getting all the attention on him. He's doing it on purpose, I know it: he even wears clothes his mum approves of!"

It's true, when they were at the country club, Michael arrived in skinny white jeans, brown moccasins and a plaid flannel. He even wore glasses , as if it wasn't the epitome of the preppy boy cliché.

It did make him look cute but whatever.

"No way, he wore normal clothes?" asks Ashton with faux-shock in his voice, making his boyfriend giggle.

"Yes, but he only did it so he'd get complimented by the entire yoga class, and it worked! They were all 'Michael this, Michael that...' And what about Calum?" says the brunet.

"So you're jealous," says Luke. "It's fine really, just forget it."

Calum looks at him with wide eyes, like he's offended he would actually suggest such a thing.

"I don't think so, he's the jealous one, and that's the reason behind all of this! Or why else would he humiliate me?"

Calum had ordered a flat white, when he, Karen and the other mums were out at a new coffee shop that was trending or something. Because it was all bioorganic, vegan, and all the ingredients came from a local procucer or something like that.

Michael was there of course, and felt the need to say: "Don't spill it on yourself this time Hood."

The brown-eyed man glared at him, and even more when Marietta asks "What do you mean?" and the blond punk started telling the story. Completely falsed, of course.

"Well see, yesterday, Calum was late to class," he started, and the brunet knew by the way he already lied about the time that it wasn't going to go well for him, "and needed coffee to wake him up. So naturally, I bought him one, because we all know Calum doesn't pay for anything, of course not he has us," he continued way too sweetly for Calum's taste.

"So I got him coffee, I gave it to him, didn't even get a 'thank you' but you were in a rush, I understand," he said to Calum with a fake comprehensive tone that made the Maori want to bash his head several times against the table.

"And he grabbed it, pulled off the lid and took a sip. Except, it was hot, so of course it caught him off guard and he spilled his coffee on him in front of everyone ," lied the green-eyed boy. "I think I've heard a few snickers too," he adds, making the ladies chuckle a bit.

"That must've been funny to watch," laughed Gina.

' Go back to fucking your friends' exes' , Calum, remembers thinking. He's seething as he replays the moment in his head. Fucking Michael 'I'm Cool And Edgy' Clifford.

"What makes you think he's jealous," asks Roy, making the brunet snap back to the present.

"Everytime me and Karen try to have a conversation with just the two of us, he intervenes, or cuts us, or joins," he explains.

"Ah, the typical rich kid's problem," says Ashton. "I mean it's a valid problem, but still, it's cliché."

"Well I'm sorry the root for the villain arch of my nemesis is 'cliché'," scoffs Calum. "The only Michael-free place is the yoga studio," he complains.

He has also never run back into him at school, but it's still not a safe place if he wants to be free of him.

"You could always try to befriend him?" tries Luke.

"You're cute Lulu, but I don't see that happening anytime soon. Or ever."

~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~

The situation changes in late April.

Calum is invited to Krishna's dinner party, as well as the yoga class, and of course, Michael is there.

The evening goes by smoother than he had expected though: Michael hadn't said anything to him, probably for the best. He was still trying way too hard to get all the attention on him, but he was getting used to it by now.

"So Gina, I saw you last Saturday," the blond says to the short brunette girl.

She looks surprised, shocked, and terrified at the same time. Her eyes flicker between Karen and her son, who's watching her expectantly.

"Oh, hum- well, I..." she tries to find her words, awkwardly gesturing her hands with unnecessary excessive movements.

"It's okay, didn't know you two were seeing each other s'all," says the green-eyed man.

"Yeah..." she replies sheepishly, blush coating her cheeks.

"Excuse me," Karen suddenly says, rising from her feet. "I got to go compose myself," she explains before leaving.

Calum looks at her, and goes to follow her, telling "I'll be back" to the table before leaving the room. He finds her in the closest bathroom, a few tears rolling down her face.

"Oh, Karen..." he says, grabbing her attention.

"I'm not even sad that he moved on, I moved on too," she cries. "It's just that, Gina 's the one dating him. Gina. She's the one friend I've known since forever, middle school actually, we were always together. She's even the one who set me up with Daryl!"

Calum takes her in his arms, while she continues crying, "I just can't believe she would bang my ex-husband!"

"It's okay K, you know your worth, you're better than tham," he tells her, letting her go. "Daryl is jealous of your success, and Gina has always wanted to be you; I can tell from what you've told me."

"Thank you, " she says.

"Of course K, now stop crying, don't let them get to your head," he says, taking her face in his hands and wiping away a tear.

"Mum? Calum?"

The pair turns around to see Michael standing there, furry in his eyes.

Shit.

"Yeah, sorry, I was redoing my makeup, I'll get back to the dinner now," Karen excuses herself.

When she's out of the room, her son immediately grabs Calum by the collar and pins him to a wall.

"Did you not understand what I told you? Stay. Away. From. Her," he says through gritted teeth.

"Why should I do what you tell me, asshole?" the Maori asks, more than angry now.

"Because I know what you're fucking doing! And because I told you so."

"Because you told me so?" repeats Calum, incredulously. "I don't have to obey you," he finishes, pushing his chest.

It does nothing though, so he looks into Michael's eyes, seeing the change in them. Actually, the atmosphere around them just shifted. There was now tension building up, heat.

"Watch your tone fucktard," warns the green-eyed man. Calum can see his jaw tensing, and his eyes briefly straying to his lips.

This action, as short as it was, made the brunet eager to touch Michael, to grip his jaw tightly, punch him, plant his nails in his chest, bruise him, anything. Fuck .

"Or what," he replies.

Michael's green eyes darken, and he puts his tigh in between Calum's legs, rubbing at his crotch.

"You'll regret it," he says, tightening the grip on his collar.

"Really? Because all I hear is talk, since that day on the campus. But I've never actually seen you do anything," the tan man taunts.

God, he was loving this.

"Careful Hood, you don't know what you're doing," he says, his face getting closer to Calum's, and his free hand sliding down the man's body, until it reaches his lower back.

"I think you're the one who has absolutely no clue of what you're doing, actually, Clifford."

Just like that, the anger flares up in Michael's lust-clouded eyes. "Christ, you should really shut the fuck up sometimes.

And he dives for Calum's lips.

The kiss is hot, but it's messy, it's brutal, and there's more teeth than tongue. Calum's chest is heaving under Michael's, and he can feel shivers running down his spine as the man he hates wraps a hand around his throat.

"Make a noise, and I'll tighten it," he whispers against his lips.

Calum almost whimpers at the words.

Michael puts his lips back on his, rubbing his tigh more forcefully against the brunet jean-cladded cock, while simultaneously biting a little too harshly on his bottom lips.

The combination drawns out pitiful moan from Calum, and the other mocks him in the kiss, tightening his grip on his throat, as promised.

"I had a feeling it wouldn't be long before you turned into a whining mess, but I'd thought you'd last at least a bit longer," he says, before staring into Calum's watering eyes. "Guess you're a bigger slut than I thought."

Calum is ashamed to say he's close to moaning again.

Soon enough, the blond's lips are on him again, but this time, they're nipping at his jaw.

The Maori has to bite so hard on his lips to avoid letting a sound out, it's making him bleed. Instead of being grossed out by the metallic taste in his mouth, it turns him on even more.

Michael bites and licks the skin on his jaw, his neck, his collar bones, like he desperately wants to taste every part of Calum. The thought, combined with Michael's mouth and hands on him, makes him let out a whine he's been holding for a good two minutes now.

He feels the blond's hands getting tighter, applying pressure on the sides of his throat, and it's actually starting to hurt now. But no matter how difficult it was getting to breathe, Calum didn't want Michael to retract his hand.

After a while, Michael finally pulls back. His lips are red and look like they've been bitten raw, his pupils are dilated and he's sweating, and 'God ', thinks Calum. ' Michael looks so hot right now.'

"You're gonna drive me back to my place so I can fuck you like you deserve," he demands.

Calum is quick to nod and leaves the bathroom in a hurry, before Michael grabs his arm.

"You're covered in hickeys and you look like a slut, you're not going out there. I'll just tell them you're sick and I need to get you home; that'll give us an excuse to live, and to why we were in there so long," he tells him and Calum is a bit ashamed of himself.

How come he's not even capable of thinking right just from a makeout, when Michael looks just fine?

"Okay I'll wait," he replies.

"Good boy."

Fuck, Calum can't wait to get to Michael's place.

~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~

The drive from Krishna's place to Michael's is filled with so much tension it's almost unbearable to Calum.

He's trying to focus on the road, but his mind is clouded with the thoughts of everything the blond would do to him tonight.

Will he take him on all fours? Will he tie him up, and edge him until Calum is crying and begging to come? Will he hold hold him down on his knees, fucking his mouth mercilessly?

Calum's mind is racing, providing him visuals of Michael behind him, on top of him, on his knees...

His train of thoughts is interrupted by Michael's hand on his knee. Calum turns to him, glaring at the blond, knowing exactly what he's about to do. Michael just smirks at him, his hand going higher on Calum's thigh, then sliding between his inner thigh, finger tips barely touching it.

The brunet feels his heartbeat picking up, and his breath quickens. He grips the wheel tighter and tenses his jaw, trying really hard to think about driving, and not the other's hand, now ghosting his crotch...

Suddenly, Michael starts palming him through his jeans, and Calum can't contain the whimper that's been threatening to fall from his lips for the past ten minutes.

Michael laughs at him, "Look at you, I've already got you moaning and I didn't even properly touch you yet."

Calum can feel himself growing hotter from the humiliation, but he can't bring himself to hate it. Worse; he loves it, he is getting off of it.

Thankfully, it's a short drive, and they soon arrive at Michael's mansion. They pass the front gate, and as Calum tries to get across the immense front yard as quickly as possible, he's held back by a hand on his shoulder.

"Too mcuh time to get to my room, gonna fuck you here," says Michael, and Calum is even more aroused than before, knowing that the blond wants him now, wants him so much that he doesn't want to wait to get in a proper place, doesn't even care if they're not on a bed.

He's ready to take him here and there, and knowing that it's him who caused Michael to be that desperate makes Calum's dick even harder under his trousers.

The brunet nods and goes to kiss Michael again, but he has other plans. The blond pushes him on his knees, and his face he's just centimeters away from Michael's cock.

He feels pain shooting through his kneecaps as they hit the concrete, but he doesn't care; he's too busy wondering how Michael will taste on his tongue, and his mouth his watering in anticipation.

"You don't even care that I won't take you on a proper bed to fuck you, don't you? Want my dick so bad, you're ready to fall on your knees on the ground, doesn't matter if it hurts, as long as you get my cock, right. Such a cockslut for me, aren't you?" says the blond, and Calum moans as a response.

Michael chuckles, mocking him once again, "Come on then, take my jeans off."

Calum looks him in the eyes, his stare burning from lust and hate, while he undoes his jeans and pushes them down his thighs, making sure to scrap his nails and leave red trails behind them.

Michael hisses at the pain, "You fucking bitch," and he slaps him.

Hard.

Calum's breath picks up, he's shocked, he wasn't expecting that, no one has ever hit him during sex before.

But he didn't hate it.

Then, he feels a soft hand grabbing his cheek and turning his head. Michael gently rubs the place where he hit him with his thumb, and looks at him with genuine concern in his eyes.

"I'm sorry if I went too far," he apologises. "I should've asked if that was okay. Are you good?"

Calum's chest feels like it's going to explode as he hears the worries in Michael's voice.

He nods, "Yeah don't worry. I- I liked it," he assures.

Then, the mood shifts again as Michael retracts his hand, and smirks, "You liked it huh? Of course you did, you're a little painslut," he says, raising the tension and the heat back up all at once.

"You're gonna let me fuck your mouth? Let me use you to get myself off?" the blond asks.

Calum is quick to nod, but it's not enough for Michael, "I want to hear you say it. Use your words bitch. Tell me what you want."

"You know what I want," says Calum through gritted teeth, then Michael grabs his hair, and yanks his head back.

"You better tell me what you want if you want me to give it to you. Or I could decide for you; let you alone in my front yard, hard and desperate. Your choice," says Michael.

Calum whimpers, partly because of Micheal's threat, but also because of the harsh pain in his scalp.

"I want your cock. Want to suck your dick, please," he says.

"Yeah?" smirks Michael, "Want me to use your mouth, fuck your lips?"

The brunet nods, "Yeah, want you to use me, please."

"Of course you do. You're just a slut for it. Open up, two taps on my leg if you wanna stop."

Calum does as he says, and Michael immediately sinks his dick into his mouth. Never once does it take it slow, from the start, the blond thrusts his hips into Calum's heat at a quick pace, almost making the other gag on his dick.

Calum feels tears pricking his eyes and his throat feels tight, because, one, no one ever fucked his mouth at such a relentless pace, and two, Michael was big .

And for some reason, that infuriates Calum to the point where he has half the mind to bite his dick off.

"You look so fucking sinful down there," says Michael says between two grunts, and Calum hums. "You know this is the only lube you're getting right? Better make it wet."

Calum's dick twitches at that, and it's now hurting against the zipper of his jeans. He can't control himself anymore, he needs some sort of relief, so he reaches a hand down on his crotch and starts palming himself.

But Michael immediately notices, and pulls him off his dick, "Can't control yourself, can you? Such a fucking slut," he says. "On your hands and knees then, since you wanna cum so bad."

Calum turns himself and gets on all fours. Almost immediately, he feels Michael behind him, and two fingers, wet with Michael's own saliva, are circling around his rim.

"What do you want?" he asks, "tell me."

Calum can't think, too focused on the pleasure he gets from only Michael's finger on his rim.

A sharp slap collides with his ass cheek. Michael just fucking spanked him.

"I said; tell me what you want."

Calum moans again, "Your mouth, please, want your mouth on me."

"You want me to rim you? You want my tongue in you, making you cry and beg?" teases Michael, and Calum can't take it anymore.

"Michael, just please ," he almost screams.

But it doesn't make the blond pick up the pace though, he only laughs at him, "Jesus, you know there are people who work here who can hear you," he says. "Do you not care? Or do you want them to hear you? Want them to know how big of a slut you are, how desperate you are."

The brunet is about to shout again, but it turns into a moan when Michael pushes his fingers in him, scissoring him.

"God, yes ," cries Calum.

Michael laughs at him, before putting his mouth on Calum, his tongue pushing through his rim and fucking him at the same time as his fingers. But he fucks into him slowly, taking his time making Calum fall apart beneath him. The brunet cries, actually cries and tears come dampening his flushed cheeks.

"Michael, faster, please," he says, pushing his hips back in an attempt to fuck himself on Michael's fingers and tongue.

The blond spanks him on his thigh. "No," he says.

Calum only cries harder when Michael adds a fourth finger, still fucking him and rimming hims slowly.

" Please -"

"No."

Calum thinks he's going to pass out from how much he's turned on, and when he feels Michael's fingers brushing his prostate, it becomes too much.

"Fucking hell Clifford, just fuck me!"

Michael stops, taking his mouth and fingers out of Calum, and the brunet whines at the loss.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch," says Michael, spanking him again. He grabs a condom from his pocket and slides it on his dick. "You don't get a say in this, you just take what I give you. Apologise."

Calum shakes his head, angry, "I'm not gonna fucking apologise, asshole."

Then, he feels Michael's tip nudging at his rim, and the blond grabs Calum's hair, yanking on it once again to bring head up to his face.

"I know you want it, slut. So you better apologise," he whispers in his ear.

Calum can't take anymore teasing, he just wants Michael to fuck him, "I- I'm sorry," he says.

"Good boy," Michael says before pushing in.

The action draws out a loud moan from Calum. Even with the prep, Michael is big, and the stretch burns. He knows he's gonna feel it again tomorrow, every time he sits down, every time he walks. He hopes he's not going to be able to move without thinking about Michael fucking him.

"You can move," he says, voice strained.

"Safe word?" Michael asks.

"Traffic lights system."

"Okay," he replies, before he lets go of Calum's hair, making the brunet take his place back on all fours, and grabs his hips instead.

Then he starts fucking into him, his hands bruising Calum hips, nails digging into his skin.

" Fuck ," Calum cries out.

"Wish you could see yourself right now," says Michael in between his pants. "You're letting me fuck you in my front yard, taking anything I give you, like you're my bitch. What if someone heard you, or came out and saw you like this, huh? Maybe you're used to it."

"Maybe you let everyone fuck you like this, spread you legs for evryone willing to give you the time of the day," continues the blond.

Calum can feel himself getting close, and it hasn't even been that long since Michael started fucking him.

"Michael, please," he begs.

"So are you such a fucking slut for everyone? Or are you just a bitch for me?" Michael ignores him.

Calum wishes there was something he could grab to hold himself uptight, because he's starting to feel so boneless he's pretty sure his arms aren't going to hold him up for much longer now.

"I need to cum, please ," he cries again, but Michaeel doesn't listen.

"Tell me Calum? Are you like that with everyone, or is it just for me?"

"Let me cum, please-"

"No," he cuts him, and Calum feels his tears falling down faster on his face.

"I need to cum, please, Michael, need your permission to cum," he pleads.

"Answer me then," he says, fucking into Calum's hole even faster. "Are you just my bitch?"

"Yes!" Calum caves in. It's just dirty talk, he doesn't mean it, but he doesn't care right now, he just needs to cum. "Just your bitch Michael, only a slut for you, please."

Michael moans loudly at that, and it almost makes Calum cum here and then, knowing that he made Michael as much as a wreck than he made him .

"Okay go ahead, make a mess of yourself," says Michael, before slapping his thigh, "Cum for me bitch."

The four last words send Calum over the edge, and his hole spams violently around Michael's dick, as his orgasm crashes over him and he cums untouched. He feels his arms giving up under him while Michael continues to abuse his sensitive hole, riding Calum's orgasm so fucking far, while chasing his own high.

"Fuck," he chokes out, "Cum in me Michael. Wanna feel it, please," he pants.

He knows he's not going to feel anything, Michael wearing a condom and all that, but his words seem to have the effect expected, and Michael's hips stutter, and soon enough, he cums into Calum with a loud moan.

" Fuck ," he says, as he finally cums.

He pulls himself out, and helps Calum lie down, "So good for me, did amazing," he praises.

Calum is still coming down, his mind is fuzzy and his vision is a bit blurry, due to the tears in his eyes.

"Can't walk," he says.

"It's okay," says Michael, as his hand comes brushing through his hair. "Just rest for a while, and then I'll clean you up."

"Okay," Calum agrees.

Calum observes him and can't help but be mesmerised. The pale man looks so good under the moonlights, his white skin and green-eyes shining under the faint glimmer of the night sky.

Michael Clifford is truly a sight to behold

He closes his eyes and focuses on his breath, like he would in yoga class, trying to calm himself down.

After a while of silence, Michael's voice stirs him from his peaceful state, "Are you good to go? I don't want my mum to see you here."

"Huh yeah sure, I just thought you'll clean mye up in the bathroom before-"

"No time for that, you need to hurry out of here," says Michael.

"But you said-" says Calum, confused, before he's interupted by the green-eyed man.

"Changed my mind."

Calum is confused, and kind of upset. He knows Michael doesn't like him, but that doesn't mean he had to be this rude, especially after what he just let him do to him.

"Jesus, fine, I'll be out of your hair," he says, putting his clothes back on It feels uncomfortable, icky, but he sucks it up and checks his pocket for his car key.

After finding them, he follows Michael, who opens the gate to let him out. Before leaving, Calum feels rude not saying goodbye, so he turns around to face the blond, only to see him already on his way inside the house.

Calum hates himself for the pang he feels in his chest.

~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~

Calum doesn't see Michael for the next two weeks.

The punk doesn't show up at any rich L.A yoga mums activities: he doesn't come to the country club, he doesn't join them for horse riding, he doesn't come at dinner to Le Petit Paris restaurant, and he doesn't even come for brunch at his own place.

"I don't know, he said he was busy with school work at the moment," replied Karen when Calum asked her about it. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged, "Just wondering."

He hadn't lied that day. He was wondering why Michael just blew him off like that. He didn't even have a real reason to hate him, if he just talked to Calum they probably could sort things out.

Calum wants to text him, but he doesn't have his phone number. He isn't going to lie; it kind of hurt him to be rejected like that. He didn't expect - nor wanted - Michael to confess his undying love for him, but fuck , he didn't even let him clean himself off.

He just threw him out with so little consideration, as if Calum was a ragdoll and not an actual human with emotions and feelings.

And still, he wants to talk to him.

"You're such an idiot Cal," Roy tells him as they're walking through the campus after getting coffee. "This guy has been nothing but an asshole to you, he's not worth it."

The Maori sighs, "I know, I know, but it's just... I don't know, I wanna talk to him, ask him why he hates me. I mean, it can't be just about the coffee thing?"

"After what you told me about him, it could be, this guy sounds like a complete ass," replies Roy. "But if you see him, get mad at him for me would you?"

Calum chuckles, "You don't have to tell me twice. He can't avoid me forever anyway."

As if on cue, Michael Clifford appears with his usual clothes: leather boots, black choker, black make-up, leather mittens that make him look like a biker, chains hanging from his skinny ripped jeans he put on top of...

Fishnet thighs?

And a crop top?

Damn . It's the hottest he's ever looked since Calum met him.

"Hey, is this your guy?" asks Roy, seeing Michael.

Calum shakes his head, preventing the dirty thoughts from making their way to his head, and replies with a sharp breath, "Yeah."

"You're right dude, he's smoking hot. You're screwed," laughs his friend.

Calum doesn't even take the time to roll his eyes at Roy's comment before making his way towards the blond with black edges.

"See you later Roy," the tan man says, not looking back at his friend.

"Oi, Clifford!" he calls out.

Michael's eyes widen, like he recognises the voice, and whips his head around to look at Calum, an unreadable expression adorning his porcelain face.

"Not now Hood..." he tries, but Calum ignores him:

"Why the fuck did I do to you for you to treat me like that, huh?" he starts, feeling the anger rising in his body.

"Nothing," replies Michael, and Calum, who was about to speak again, closes his mouth, a dumb expression on his face. "You did nothing wrong."

"Then, why-" the brunet starts, confused, before he's cut off by the punk:

"Can we talk somewhere private?"

"My flatmate is out, if you don't have classes for the rest of the day," Calum suggests.

"I do but I don't care, lead the way," the blond replies.

"Fine then."

It's strange, Calum thinks, to see Michael in his appartement. It's not necessarily the fact that it's his appartement, even if he never thought he'd have Michael Asshole Clifford, the guy who hates him, in his home. No, it was seeing him in such a modest setting. He's so used to seeing him in fancy places, with preppy rich white boy clothes, it's almost unreal to see him like that, on his two-places couch, drinking water from a plastic cup because Luke forgot to do the dishes.

Well, he was here so often, might as well making him do some chores, it only feels fair.

After a while of very awkward silence and unbearable tension building in the room, Calum finally asks, "So?"

Michael doesn't immediately replies; he takes a breath, bites his lip, like he's battling with himself, before he looks up from his drink, and looks at Calum, dead in the eyes.

"Are you gay?"

Silence.

Calum blinks twice in disbelief, and stares at him, incredulously, "Are you serious right now?"

Michael nods and Calum laughs, really laughs, only stopping when he sees the blond's serious expression, and his eyes looking at him expectantly.

"I literally let you kiss me, fuck my mouth and my ass, with your fingers, tongue and cock, begged for it even, and you're asking me if I'm gay?" he asks, not believing what was happening right now.

"I just wanna know if you only like men, or if you'd go for women too," Michael explains, confusing the brunet to a degree.

"But, why?" he asks.

"Just answer the question," he demands.

"I don't owe you a response, Clifford," Calum replies.

"Answer the fucking question goddamnit!" Michael almost shouts.

Then, the blond shakes his head and looks away, "Forget it."

Calum observes him, just like that night in his front yard. Except this time, it was the sunlight that was hitting the delicate features of his face, the golden rays reflecting perfectly against the pale skin.

The brunet looks at Michael, really looks at him, letting his eyes take the time to admire everything about his face: his emerald-like shining green eyes, highlighted by the dark eyeshadow surrounding them, his pink and full lips, glowing from the reddish lipstick the blond must've applied, his round cheeks, that would fit so well between Calum's large hands, and his jaw, covered by a stubble, that would probably feel tingly in the crook of his Calum's neck.

Michael Clifford is ethereal.

"I'm gay, I only ever liked men," Calum finally whispers, softly.

Michael turns his head to him in shock, before smiling and shaking his head once more.

"God... I' so fucking stupid," he laughs.

Calum sits up and looks at him, confused, "I mean yeah, but why do you say that?"

Michael ignores the shade, and replies, "I thought you wanted to go for my mum."

And Calum starts laughing out loud with him. Both of them laugh for about two minutes before they finally come down.

"Jesus," says Calum between two giggles, wiping a tear away from his cheek. "Is that why you hate me?"

"Yes," Michael confesses. "I thought you wanted to use her for her money, since she's divorced and all. I swear, you were all she talked about, which was annoying on its own, but then, she mentioned how you never paid for anything and that's when I started to go mad."

Calum nods, "I mean, that's understandable. There are a lot of opportunists out there."

Michael agrees, "Exactly! And I have had people pretending to be my friends for my money before."

"Really?" asks the brown-eyed man.

"It was actually my best friend,I confided everything to her. She was the only person I trusted until she spilled all of my secrets to the whole school when I told her she couldn't come with us on the Hawaii family trip." the blond explains.

"What a bitch," says Calum, and Michael nods.

"Yeah, I know. And it's not even the worst time someone broke my trust."

Calum tilts his head at that, waiting for further explanations from the blond, which come immediately:

"One year after that, I found someone else to whom I gave my entire trust. I guess I didn't learn from the first time."

The tan man frowns, as he can see the pain in the other's eyes.

"I had a girlfriend, Priscila. I thought I was going to marry her, I thought she was gonna be the mother of my kids..." continues Michael, voice laced with emotions. "She cheated on me."

"Ouch," is all Calum replies.

"With my dad," Michael finishes.

The nineteen year old is flabbergasted. He did not expect the end to be this bad. Not only one person broke his trust that day, but two: Priscila and Daryl.

"Michael..." he says, not really sure what he's supposed to do.

"That's why I don't have any friends now," admits the punk.

"Aren't you lonely?" the brunet carefully asks.

"I'm so fucking lonely."

A beat passes, then Calum makes a confession on his own: "I thought you hated me because you were jealous of the attention your mum gave me."

"You were right," Michael sighs. "I suppose it was part of it. I just wish she accepted the way I am, you know?"

"Same, I like the punk rock look," replies the Maori.

"Think I should dress like that more often?" the blond asks.

"God no, I wouldn't be able to keep it in my pants," says Calum, truthfully.

Michael throws his head back to laugh. His thoat is exposed, and it's still all sweaty and fuck, Calum wants mark him up.

"Really huh? So is this what you're thinking about right now?" the blond teases, reading Calum's mind. "Is that what you were thinking when you had your eyes glued to my ass while I walked up the stairs? Don't think I didn't notice."

Calum blushes when he finds out he's been caught. For his defense: Michael's trousers are so tight it's literally obscene. Anyone would've done the same if they had the chance of having a full view on Michael Clifford's ass, bouncing just under their noses.

"Really can't control yourself," continues Michael. "You're still such a fucking-"

"Shut up," says Calum, surprising the other. "You might've been in charge last time, but today, I think you deserve a little... punishment, for treating me the way you did, and ignoring me. Don't you think?"

Michael's face contorts in such a shocked expression, Calum wishes he had a phone to take a picture, it was priceless.

"I don't- I-" the blond starts.

"I wanna tie you up," says Calum, looking him in the eyes.

" Fuck ."

As they make their way to Calum's bedroom, they discard most of Calum's clothes and Michael's shirt in the hallway, all the while gripping each other and kissing like their lives depend on it.

"Jesus fuck, why did I decided to wear boots today," curses Michael, pulling away from Calum's bitten lips.

"Because they make you look hot," the brunet replies.

Michael whines and reconnects their mouths, pushing his tongue past Calum's lips, and tugging harshly on his curls.

This time, Calum pulls away to say: "Get rid of your clothes and lay on the bed."

"Okay,'' replies Michael as he goes to do as told. Meanwhile, Calum makes his way towards a drawer, taking out silk blue ties, handcuffs, and a gag.

When he turns back around, he sees the blond awaiting on the bed, naked.

"Good boy," he tells him, making him whimper. "Spread eagle, and put your hands over your head.

Michael nods and obeys, and the tan man smirks, "And you call me a slut? Look at you, obeying me, being all eager to please me."

"Only a slut for you Calum ..." Michael says.

The brunet breath catches in his throat, hearing the punk using his name for the first time.

He grunts, and grabs Michael's ankles, tying them up to the two bedposts. Then, he moves up, and grabs the pale man's face.

He was right about his cheeks; they fit perfectly.

"I'm gonna gag you, colour?" he asks him.

"Green," replies eagerly the blond.

Calum chuckles, "Okay, I'm also gonna handcuff you, clap your hands if you wanna stop, okay?"

"Okay," answers Michael, but it's not enough for Calum.

"Tell me what you'll do if you wanna stop."

"I'll clap in my hands if I wanna stop, come on, touch me," begs the blond.

The Maori huffs, "I wanna make sure you're getting treated correctly, but you're being a whore. You don't care if I respect you or not, just want my hands on you, don't you?"

"Yes-"

A hard slap on his face cuts him off, making him moan instead.

"I didn't tell you to fucking speak," is the last thing Calum says before putting the gag on and locking his hands to the headboard with golden handcuffs.

Then, he stands up and looks at the pale man he has entirely tied up in his bed.

"This is how you should always be, you know; tied up and gagged, just waiting desperately for someone to use you to get themselves off. Just a toy, a fuckdoll."

Michael's dick twitches, and he moans again, the gag making him drool in the process.

"So fucking filthy. I should take a picture of you, show everyone how much of a whore you are."

Calum knows he doesn't really have a place to speak, but it's really fun to humiliate and degrade Michael and see the effect it had on him. He looks so fucked out, and he hasn't been properly touched yet.

Calum can't wait to ruin him.

He goes back to the drawer, grabs a bottle of lube and a vibrator, and returns to Michael, who's watching his every move.

"You're lucky I'm not blindfolding you today. I'm not letting you touch me, but I'm generous enough to let you see me, isn't that nice?" he asks, and the tied up man nods.

Calum opens the lube and puts some on his fingers, rubs them together, and places two on Michel's rim, circling, slowly.

"Remember how much fun you had, making me wait? Well you're my bitch now, and I'm gonna tease you ten times worse," he warns, smiling sadistically.

Michael whines, earning a slap on his thigh from the brunet. "Don't make a fucking sound. And don't move," he says.

Then, he pushes his fingers in, taking as much time as he can scissoring the blond. At the same time, he kisses, sucks and bites his inner-thighs, leaving purple-red bruises, knowing Michael will feel them every time he'll rub his legs together.

He pushes a third finger in, hearing a loud gasp from the blond as he does so. He then starts to kiss Michael's abdomen, feeling it tensing when he gets lower and lower... When he arrives at Michael's dick, he blows gently on it, then licks a fat stripe from under his shaft.

He hears the pale man's breath shake, and he smirks, before letting his tongue swirl around the tip of Michael's cock. He sees his thighs muscles tensing, and he takes the head of his cosk in his mouth slowly, teasing him.

After a while, he picks up the pace, fingering Michael faster, and opening his throat to take more of him in. That's when the blond, who was behaving so far, thrusts his hips up.

Calum's free hand slaps the side of his ass cheek and pulls off him, a trail of spit connecting his mouth to Michael's dick.

"I said don't fucking move. Are you such a whore that you can't control yourself? You have to try and fuck my mouth?" he asks, angrily.

He looks at Michael and fuck . He's drooling profusely, his pupils are dilated, and he's crying. He looks like a fucking wreck.

"Do that again, and I'll stop completely," he tells him, warningly.

The blond nods and Calum goes back to what he was doing, but this time, he starts immediatly deepthroting him and fucking his long finger into him at a fast pace, taking down his entire length while silmulteanously nailing his prostate dead-on.

And just when he can feel and see Michael's leg shaking and his toes curling, he knows he's close. That makes him work faster on his cock and ass, and when he knows Michael's just about to cum, he stops.

A loud whines emerges from the blond as his orgasm is ruined, and Calum laughs at him:

"You really thought you'd get to cum this soon? Nuh-uh, good little sluts know how to wait."

He takes the vibe, lubes it up, and places it at Michael's entrances.

"This is gonna be fun," he says, before pushing in. "Oh, and you can make sounds for this."

As soon as the vibrator is all the way up Michael's ass, the blond moans loudly.

"You're a squeaky whore," mocks the brunet before turning the toy on.

Michael's moaning intensifies, and Calum really enjoys seeing him like this: face flushes, sweating, eyebrow frowned, and glossy eyes.

He brings a hand to the tied man's right nipple and flicks it, eliciting a moan from the blond. He decides then to suck and bite at the other nipple, while keeping on teasing the right one with his large fingers. Soon enough, when he's done torturing both nipples with his teeth and fingers, he's biting Michael's pale collarbones.

"Fuck, you're skin is marking so well under my mouth," he tells him, before moving to his exposed throat, as Michael's head roll back.

The entire room is filled with Michael's moans and whines, as Calum sucks, licks, kisses and bites his supple skin. Then, once again, Michael thighs are shaking; this is it, he's about to cum.

The brunet notices, and smirks at him, "You wanna cum huh? You've earned it, come one, cum for me. Make a mess of yourself slut; scrunch up your nose, make your eyes roll to the back of your head, and moan loudly... Come on, I know you want it. Be a good boy and cum for me Michael."

Hearing Calum chatting his ears off is what pushes Michael over the edge, he feels his orgasm coursing through him, when-

He's empty.

He cries, loudly, while Calum looks at him, at how ruined he looks, at how desperate he made him. The fucktard pretended he was allowing him to cum, but pulled the vibrator out at the last minute.

"You were so cute," the brunet says to him, mocking him, "thinking you were actually going to cum..."

Michael is glaring at him, when suddenly, Calum reaches behind his head to take off the gag.

"Wanna hear you beg," he explains.

The blond whines and the Maori chuckles, "Lemme grab a conndom, finally gonna fuck you now."

He stands up from the bed to get back to the drawer, and Michael's dick twitches in anticipation. He's finally getting what he wanted since he entered the apartment.

The brunet walks back to the bed, tearing the package open, and rolls the condom on his dick. He places himself at Michael's entrance, the tip of his dick nudging his rim.

"Sure you want this? Tell me, how bad do you want it bitch," he demands.

"So bad Calum, please , just fuck me ," Michael cries out.

Calum laughs at him again, before going in all at once, and he sees the blond lips parting at the feeling.

"Damn, you're fucking tight for a whore," comments Calum, before fucking into him at a franatical rythm.

Michael screams at the sudden sensation with lack of warning, and throws his head back, allowing Calum to put his lips back on his neck.

"Fuck, Calum," moans Michael.

Calum is holding him down by the hips, blocking all movements for him.

"How does it feel, to be spread out on my bead, having no choice but to take it? How does it feel, being a slut only used for others' pleasure?" he asks.

The blond looks at him, and smirks, "I don't know, you tell me," he replies sassily.

And then, Calum spits on his face.

Michael moans loudly, and the brunet says, "Do I? Because you're the one getting off by being treated like a cheap whore, not me. You like me spitting on your face? You like me treating you as if you were just some toy, some set of warm holes for me to get off, huh?"

"Yes," the blond moans.

"What are you," Calum asks, but Michael is too wrapped up in his pleasure to hear him.

He feels a sharp smack on his cheek, and then he hears Calum's voice say, "What are you, Michael? Answer me."

"A whore," says the blond.

"Louder," demands Calum, fucking him even faster.

"A whore!" moans Michael, louder.

"Again!" Calum's pace is getting even quicker, and Michael wishes he had something to hold on too.

"A whore!" he cries out.

"Again!" says the brunet, only going faster and faster.

"I'M A FUCKING WHORE," screams Michael.

"Good boy," praises the tan man, his lips finding the blond's in a messy kiss.

"Need to cum," whines Michael when the other pulls away.

"Beg for it," says Calum.

"I need to cum, please Calum. Feel so good in me, I can't hold it anymore, p lease , please, please , let me cum," he pleads the best he can. "I need to, need to so badly, please ."

Hearing Michael's utterly destroyed voice does it for Calum and he caves in, "Go ahead, cum pet."

Michael lives the more intense orgasm of his life. He cums, screaming out the tan man's name, back arching from the bed, tears falling from his eyes, his make-up running down his face.

When he's done, his chest heaving, his breathing is ragged, and Calum has pulled out, a hand wrapped around himself.

"Gonna cum all over your slutty body Michael. I know you want it, you fucking cumslut. Gonna make you look like a true whore," he says, jacking himself off.

"Please Calum. Cum on me please, make me yours, make me your slut, want your cum on me please," chants Michael from the bed.

At these words, he brunet cums with a loud moan, looking into the blond's eyes.

"Fuck," he breathes out. "Did so good babe, so good for me. I'm so glad you let me do that," he says, untying Michael's ankle.

After he completely unties the pale man from his bed, he goes to the bathroom for a wet cloth.

"How are you feeling?" he asks the blond while cleaning him up.

"Good, I feel good," he replies with a tired voice. "Just sleepy."

"Okay," says Calum. "When you can stand up, I'll change the sheets and then you can lie down as long as you want."

He sees Michael gnawing his bottom lips, before asking: "Can I... stay here tonight? I kinda feel like doing that again."

The brown-eyed man chuckles, "You can stay here, but my roommate will be there, so no more fucking tonight, sorry."

"I mean..." starts Michael with an innocent look,,"I can be quiet."

Calum throws him a skeptical look, "Can you?"

The blond glares at him, so he continues, "No, I'm just asking because, five minutes ago you were screaming my name so loud I think the whole building heard it. Hell, even Mr. Binns probably heard it."

Michael looks confused, "Who's Mr. Binns?"

"My neighbor. He's deaf," Calum smiles.

"Asshole," says the man with the ruined make-up, throwing a pillow at him.

~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~

"Who doesn't like italian food?" asks Calum in disbelief.

They've been seeing each other on the low for three weeks now, only for casual sex and purely seeking pleasure from the other.

It worked great because they're both switches, with almost the same kinks, and they both agree that they never had so much fun in bed, and it never felt like that with someone else.

Currently, Calum and Michael are sitting on the latter's bed, where they spend all of their time together. They're debating what food they should order from postmate; the blond wants sushi but the brown-eyed one is set on arancini with a tiramisu.

Only issue: apparently, Michael doesn't like italian. What a man with a lack of taste. Well except maybe for guys, but still, who in their right mind qualify italian food as-

"Too stuffy, not tasty enough, not that good either, and honestly overrated," says Michael.

Calum brings a hand to his chest, pretending - well, not really - to be offended. "You are a monster," he says, making the other laugh.

"Okay, then how about french food?" the blond asks, moving from his position at Calum's right to sit right behind him. He presses his back against the wall, opens his legs and arms before gesturing for the brunet to come to him.

Calum hesitates, not really being used to be intimate with the punk when sex wasn't involved, but after all, what harm can it do?

After he decides to crawl to Michael, settling between his legs, letting him slide his arms under his, holding him by the waist, and putting his chin on his shoulder, he realises the answer is: a lot.

It can do a lot of harm, because now, Calum's heart rate increases as fast as an arrow, and he feels goosebumps all over his body.

"I don't fancy eating the inside of a duck," he replies to Michael with a disgusted face, trying to ignore how warm his body feels against him.

"You realise that they have other dishes that don't include-" tries the pale man, before he's interrupted by Calum:

"I am. Not. Eating. A duck's. Liver."

Michael laughs, the vibrations coursing throughout all of Calum's body. Shivers run down his spine, but he tries to pretend they were never there. They can't be there; he can't be feeling this way right now.

"Fine, fine. So then, what about my sushi?" the blond asks, his hand slipping under his shirt to caress his stomach. The brown-haired man doesn't want to think about the electrifying feeling of Michael's fingertips on his skin.

He distracts himself from it by exaggerating a long, resignated sight, and says, "Alright, we can have bloody sushi, if you insist."

"Thanks babe," says Michael.

Calum thinks that maybe he heard wrong, or perhaps Michael didn't mean it, or he did, but not like that. But then, the blond presses a soft kiss in the crook of his neck, and butterflies erupt in the brunet.

He turns his head to face Michael behind him, eyes wide in shock, but all he sees on his face is a smile. Then, with one hand, the other still under his shirt, he grabs Calum's cheek, and brings his face close to him, before posing his lips on the other's softly.

The kiss isn't like the ones they've shared before, it isn't filled with heat nor lust - but strangely, Calum thinks he can still feel the want in this kiss.

The need .

Maybe he's imagining it, maybe he's twisting his fantasies with the reality, because Michael's lips are sweet, and tender on his, they're moving slowly, with something that looks a lot like care and affection, and it feels like they're dating, and Calum wants it to be real.

He really wants it, but he can't. He can't date Michael.

The reason is that Michael is bisexual, but he never told his mum; he scared that she won't accpet him, because she already doesn't like his look, nor the fact that he chose engineering instead of business, and also, the social environment Michaael is surrounded by is pretty judgmmental.

Calum had tried to tell him that Karen wouldn't mind, to which the blond had answered with: ' You don't know her like I do, she's my mum.'

The Maori didn't have any convincing arguments to contradict him, so he dropped it.

"And you don't care that you're his secret?" asked Ashton when he heard about the type of relationship the two men had.

The tan man shrugged, "I mean, no, I get good dick and now he doesn't monopolise the yoga mums' attention when we go out."

"And you really think you're not gonna catch feelings," accused his roommate.

"It's okay if I catch feelings, maybe our relationship can go further, I wouldn't mind," replied Calum.

Ashton then sighed, "Cal, babe, if your man isn't ready to come out, you're never gonna be able to have a real relationship, you realise that right?"

"First of all, don't call him 'my man'. Second, I can manage, it's fine, and I'm not gonna pressure him to come out," he said.

"Fine, but be careful, I don't want you to come crying and heart-broken in my arms one day," replied his best friend.

"I won't," Calum rolled his eyes.

Maybe he needs to rethink those words...

But he can't help but think there's hope, because right now, Michae's kissing him affectionately, just because, with no intent of it going further.

Well, that's what he thinks before he feels the blonds' hand venturing lower, and lower, and lower, until it slides into his boxers and grabs his hardening dick.

"Bet I can get you off three times before the food arrives," murmurs Michael against his lips.

At this, Calum gets turned on as much as he gets hurt. Of course Michael wants to use him, he was stupid to think otherwise.

But even if his heart is aching, so is his cock; his body betrayed him by reacting like this to the green-eyed man's words. His body always reacts to Michael; to his voice, his touch, his scent... It's like it's dependent on it, and Calum knows how much it'll hurt when he'll have to wean.

As cliché as it sounds, Michael Clifford is a fucking drug.

~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~

"There is no way you actually listen to Black Pink!" laughs Michael.

He and Calum are in his bed at the mansion, both naked and sweating. It's been two months since they've started this, and Calum's heart keeps on falling hard for the blond, trying to ignore the pain of not being with Michael, but still being Michael's..

"They have some bangers, I swear!" argues Calum. "Are you one of those people who judges others for listening to K-pop without having a listen first?"

"Well..." starts Michael, and the brunet gasps.

"We're gonna watch some of their music videos, get me your laptop," he says.

"Fine," agrees Michael, rolling his eyes, before handing his MacBook to the man at his side.

After watching thirteen of their music videos, and going over every member of the group, the blond admits, "Okay, so it's not my style, but it's not bad."

"See! That's why you don't judge when you don't know what you're talking about," says Calum with a pointed look.

Michael knows what he's referring to immediately, "I already told you, I'm sorry."

Then, the brunet can't help but add, "You know, for someone who's scared of being judged, you're pretty judgemental yourself..."

Calum knows he shouldn't have said it, he knew what he was getting into when he agreed to this, but he's so miserable because of it.

He didn't want to admit it to himself until now though, but he finally realises how hard it has been on him: sneaking out of Michael's house at midnight, lying to Karen and the others when they ask why he's so sore, or why he can't come to whatever events, seeing Michael talking to strangers at parties who try to flirt, but not being able to say anything.

And what's worse is not being able to be seen in public with him, to show him off to everyone, to tell everyone he's his, but he's not. And what's worse is that he can't talk to Michael about his feelings, in case he shuts off and runs away. And the worst is that he can't call him his.

"Are you serious right now?" asks Michael, anger reflecting in his green eyes. "You know why I can't come out Calum, and you have no right to force me to do it."

"That's not what I'm doing, at all!" argues the brunet, the burning feeling rising in his chest as well. "I just hate this! I hate the situation we're in!"

"Then leave, no one's stopping you!" tells him the blond.

'He's not even gonna fight for me' , thinks Calum. 'He doesn't care about me. '

"I wouldn't have to if you weren't such a fucking coward!" he shouts.

Then, Michael's face morphs from an expression of anger, to a more softer one, a sadder one.

Michael looks broken.

"Get out," he says, voice barely above a whisper.

He has tears in his eyes, and his voice is shakey. Calum's heart breaks at the sight of him, knowing he caused that.

"I'm so so so sorry Michael, I didn't mean it," he pleads.

"Get out," the blonds repeats, louder.

"Michael, please-"

"Get the fuck out!" he screams.

Calum's eyes water, as he takes his things and gets out of the room.

His heart is clenching, and his breathing is uneven. Inside, it feels like a storm: like it's raining sadness, like the anger is the wind, blowing an intense and burning breath in

him, and hurt is striking down on his heart in a painful blow, just like lightning

When he reaches the living room, he hears a female voice calling for him:

"Calum?" asks Karen.

Fuck, how is he suppposed to explain what he was doing here, and in this state?

"Hi, um, Karen I-" he tries, but he's interrupted by the bleach blond woman:

"Ah, trouble in paradise?" she questions, knowingly.

Calum is too gobsmacked to say anything. How did she know? They were being extremely careful, they've always made sure they did everything discreetly. Did she see them? No, it can't be, she's probably talking about something else-

"I know that something is going on between you and my son," she continues.

Calum is confused, and worried, what if it was his fault and now Karen knows Michael's sexuality because of him, and not because he told her?

"But what- how?" he tries to asks.

"Oh please!" Karen rolls her eyes. "I knew my child wasn't straight when I caught him kissing Joshua Parker in year 7," she explains. "And at Krishna's dinner party? When suddenly you were so sick, even though you looked just fine when you came to me, and Michael, who 'hated you' - he was trying to hide it but we could all see it, trust me - was the one taking you home? Yeah, I never bought that."

"Oh," is all Calum says.

"And also you're loud," she adds.

"Oh," repeats the brunet, furiously blushing.

"Like the both of you-" she continues but she's cut off by a very flustered and embarrassed Calum:

"Okay I get it! I'm sorry," he apologises.

The woman sighs, "It's okay. Look, I don't know what he said to you-"

"That you weren't gonna accept him," says Calum, sighing.

Karen shakes her head, "Of course I am! And I think that deep down he knows that, he's just scared. Did you know what happened with Willow, his best friend, or Priscila?"

Calum nods.

"Well," she continues, "that's the first time he talks about it, you're the first person he's opened up to. And he has a hard time trusting people because of it now, so I think he's just using me as an excuse to keep you at a distance, he doesn't want to let you get too close."

"But I'm not like them!" Calum exclaims, desperately.

"I know that honey," reassures Karen, rubbing his arm with her hand.

"I called him a coward," he whispers, hiding his head between his hands.

The woman takes him in her arms, hugging him closely, "Let me talk to him, yeah?"

"Okay," Calum agrees. There's nothing else he can really do anyways.

~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~

Calum spends the second week of July without any signs of Michael. It's only monday, he probably needs time, he tries to be reasonable about this. It's going to be okay, Karen is going to talk to him, and it's all going to be fine.

Wednesday, the anger starts to eat him. Michael still hasn't called, nor texted, and Calum seriously feels like going to his mansion, and whack him on the back of his head. What is he waiting for? Does he want Calum to text him first? Because that's not going to happen.

He skips yoga class that day. He doesn't really like the idea of facing Michael's mum, it's just going to add more stress to the situation.

On saturday, Calum cries in Ashton's lap, Luke and Roy by his side, trying to comfort him.

"It's gonna be okay, don't worry Cal," his roommate says, combing his fingers through his brown curls.

"Maybe I should apologise," says Calum, wiping away a tear. "After all, I'm the one who confronted him about us being a secret, even though he told me it was always going to be that way."

"You can't control your feelings babe," Roy tells him. "You can't decide who you fall for."

"Just because I can't control them doesn't mean I have to act on them," the brunet cries. "Now I messed it all up, just because I- I wanted more, wanted more from him, and now- now I'm left with nothing! I was just, t-too greedy," he says between sniffles;

"You're not too greedy for wanting to have a real relationship. I mean, if you're gonna be exclusive with someone, at least treat them properly," says Luke, caressing his back in a soothing manner.

"But that's the thing: he never said we were exclusive," Calum tells him, before his eyes widen in realisation, "What if he never wanted me? What if 'not being out' was an excuse so he didn't have to tell me he didn't want me?" he asks in worries.

"He wanted you, trust me," argues Ashton.

"Yes, but not all of me! I have nothing to offer more than a good fuck," complains the man crying in his lap.

"Calum, look at me," demands his best friend, and Calum sits up straight, to be able to lock his eyes with Ashton's hazel ones.

"You are more than a good fuck, alright? You're a beautiful human being, with a kind heart, and who always tries to be better. You've been nothing but good to him, and you're the same with everyone you meet. You're caring, you're smart, and funny, so don't even start with that 'I'm not good enough rant', because you are good enough. The best even."

After his friend's inspirational speech, the atmosphere is overwhelmingly full of emotions, and Calum feels like crying even more because of it. He hugs his roommate and whispers "Thank you man" in his ear.

"Didn't you see the way he looked at you, whenever he was here. Granted, it wasn't a lot, you were always at the mansion, but don't you remember, that one time you were hate-watching the Twilight movies? The man definitely wanted you then," says Roy.

"True," agrees Luke while his boyfriend nods.

Calum remembers that day: it was the end of May, and he and Michael were lying on the appartement couch, cuddling, while the three others were having their own conversation at the table, behind them.

Michael had wanted to watch the Twilight movies since they were back on Netflix, and Calum had never seen them so he agreed.

"This Bella girl is so annoying, Jesus," he said, at the scene where the girl spent a lot of months on a chair in her room, being sad about her vampire boyfriend leaving.

"I know! Alice is the true main character," agreed Michael.

"Her husband or whatever..."

"Jasper?"

"Yes!" said Calum. "His eyes... they scare me," he confessed and Michael laughed loudly.

The brunet felt it, since he was lying on top of him, his head on his chest, tucked under his jaw.

"It's like he's looking into your soul," added the blond.

"And I also hate both Edgar and Jarob," Calum told him.

"Did you butcher their name on purpose?" asked Michael, an eyebrow raised and an amused smirk on his lips.

"Yes," confirmed the tan man. "I think she should go for Carlisle."

"I don't know, I kinda like Edward," said the green-eyed man.

Calum raised his head, propped himself on his elbow and looked at him:

"Of course you do, you look like him with that pale skin of yours," he said, mockingly.

Michael was not impressed, "I know you want to make fun of me, but I actually take it as a compliment when people tell me I look like a vampire?"

"Really? Didn't know you liked fantasising about being a dead creature who only lives at night and drinks blood, weirdo."

"And lives forever," added the blond. "And can bite people to turn them. If I was a vampire, I could sink my fangs in your neck, make you mine forever, what do you say?"

He said the last part jokingly, and Calum took it as such, so he rolled his eyes, "Spending eternity with you sounds like my personal Hell, actually."

But what was that weird feeling in his stomach though?

"Yeah, I remember," Calum says to Roy. "He joked about making me his forever."

"I think he wasn't really joking about the 'making you his' part," his friend tells him, but Calum doesn't want to have hope that will, inevitably, end in disappointment, so he ignores it.

~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~

He decides to go to yoga class next wednesday.

If Michael was going to be out of his life, he wasn't going to let him dictate how to live it. Yoga is a good way to relax for him, to empty his thoughts, so maybe, if he doesn't look at Karen, he can forget about the punk for an hour.

Right now, he's about to get in a peacock pose, which is a pretty difficult one, an advanced one even. He's proud to say he gained a lot of muscles and balance in the last months, so he can attend an advanced class next september.

Not bad for a beginner who immediately joined an intermediate class, aye?

Calum leans forward and presses his palms down into the yoga mat, turning his wrists and fingers backward between his thighs. Then he slowly leans forward and presses his abdomen into his elbows, moving his legs back as he shifts his weight. He straightens his legs with his toes still touching the floor. Now, here comes the hard part: he lifts his whole body by tensing the abdominal muscles, holding his weight entirely on the palms.

He manages to hold the position for forty seconds, before Krishna says: "It's the end of our last session, so let's get into the usual cat pose."

Calum softly lands his feet on the mat, and moves on all fours. He breathes in and out, listening to his yoga teacher's instructions, as well as the soft indian music playing in the background.

"Thank you," says Krishna at the end. "Hope to see you all next september! And most of you can upgrade now!"

"Yeah," agrees Gina, in a bragging tone.

Krishna makes a face, that morphs into a smile when she says "Well, not you."

Calum snickers. The yoga teacher probably didn't even want to sound mean, she's the sweetest person he's ever met. She was just... Brutally honest. Actually, she was the definition of 'No <3'.

Gina's face is also hilarious, she looks like she's both mad and embarrassed. Despite his promise to himself to not look at her, he makes eye contact with Karen, who looks pleased, and they smile at each other in malice.

Calum goes to change in the locker room. He's in the middle of putting his trousers on, when the door suddenly opens.

"Poppy, I already told you, I'm not into women, nor older-" he starts, annoyed, but the person cuts him off.

"Hey..."

It's not Poppy. It's a male voice. A very familiar male voice. Calum stops all movements.

"Michael?" he asks, unsure.

What is he doing here? Is he here to apologise? To explain himself?

Is he going to break Calum's heart all over again?

"It's me and I- turn around, please," he asks, but Calum shakes his head.

What if it was his imagination playing tricks, what if he's dreaming all of this. He's almost scared that Michael is going to disappear if he turns around.

"Calum, please, I need to see you," the blond begs.

The brunet decides to finally face him, and he's presented by the sight of a desperate, miserable, and broken Michael Clifford.

"What do you want from me?" Calum asks shakily.

"To apologise," answers Michael. "And to tell you you were right."

"About what?"

"About me being a coward," the green-eyed man replies.

"No, Michael, I'm sorry I didn't mean-"

"It's okay Calum, it's true. I am a coward. I'm so scared that you'll end up hurting me like they did. I'm so scared of you breaking my trust one more time, because the truth is, if it gets broken one more time, by you , of all people, there will be no one else after us," Michael tells you.

The brown-haired man feels his own eyes starting to water, "What us , Michael? If us means hiding behind everyone's back, being a dirty secret, then I don't want it."

Calum's voice breaks, "I didn't even know you wanted us to be something."

"Of course I did- I do! I have feelings for you Calum, so many feelings for you. And I know you do too, or you wouldn't have acted this way."

"I do," confirms Calum. "I have so many feelings for you too Michael."

"And I do want us to be something. When my mum talked to me, told me that she knew all along and that my fears of her not accepting my sexuality were unfounded - I mean, she literally was at the protests to make gay marriage legal -, I realised that my fears about you breaking my trust were too."

The brunet says nothing as Michael continues to speak, finally telling him how he feels:

"You're not like them, Calum. You, you're so much better. You're everything. And I want you. All of you. And, maybe I've screwed it up, but-"

"Kiss me," interrupts Calum.

Michael shuts up, and furrows his eyebrows, as if he wasn't sure of what he just heard. "What?"

"Kiss me," repeats Calum, but he doesn't give Michael the time to respond before he crosses the room and pulls him into a passionate kiss.

Their lips are bruising each other with force, and they're gripping the other the best they can, like it's the last time they are ever going to see each other again.

The kiss is desperate, burning, and it's not sweet by any means, but it's still loving: they have such intense feelings about each other, and they try to communicate it all in the movements of their lips and tongue.

Calum brings Michael so close to him, it almost feels like they're going to murge, but that's what he's going for: he wants to feel Michael as close as possible, he wants to keep the blond with him forever.

Both Calum and Michael feel like they've been waiting a thousand lifetimes for that kiss, and now that they're here, they know they'll be willing to wait a thousand more if it was the only way they could kiss each other like that again.

"I'm taking you home," says Michael. "I wanna show you how much I want you. How much I feel for you."

~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~

Once they get into Michael's bedroom, they lock lips as soon as the blond closes the door.

The kiss is as loving as the one they exchanged in the locker room, but it's slower, sweeter, more tender.

"Wanna take my time making you feel good," murmurs Michael against Calum's lips.

"Okay," agrees Calum before bringing his lips back to the blonds.

Michael takes his clothes off before doing the same with his own only separating their mouths when the shirts come off.

He lies Calum down on his bed, taking his time worshipping evey corner of the brunet's body with his mouth, sucking and biting the tan skin, like he's mapping his body with lovebites, trying to remember every curve.

Calum is moaning softly beneath him, enjoying his lover's mouth on him. His hands come gripping Michael's head to pull him back up.

The green-eyed man gets the message and places his hands on Calum's waist, taking his face off of his stomach to put it centimeters away from Calum's.

Michael smiles at him before lowering his head to kiss him again. Both of the men moan into the soft kiss, while one of the blond's hands leaves Calum's hip to grab something at his right.

"Want you to watch me open myself up for you," he says, and the brunet just moans.

Michael looks so fucking beautiful, riding his lubed up fingers, sweating with his lips parted, letting out sweet moans chanting Calum's name, eyes screwed shut...

When he's done, he straddles Calum's waist, puts a small amount of lube on his dick, and sinks down on it.

The two of them enjoy this moment of pure bliss and relief.

"So... fucking... full," breathes Michael, before moving himself up and down Calum's body slowly.

The dark-eyed man's hands grip the blond's hips, and pulls himself up to lock his lips with Michael once more, like he can't get enough of them.

Michael rides Calum slowly, lips on his more often than not, and both of them are releasing soft moans and pants, lost in the feeling of each other. This moment was perfect.

Sooner than any of them is willing to admit, they're both nearly coming.

"So beautiful riding yourself on me sweetheart," says Calum. "Are you close?"

"Yes, so close," the blond replies. "Please Calum, want you to come first. Can you do that for me, please?"

" Fuck ," simply moans the brunet when Michael starts to work himself faster on his cock. "Keep that up and I will."

"Can't hold it anymore, please Calum," Michael begs.

Calum starts moving his hips up to meet Michael's movements, no longer slow and sweet, but fast and desperate.

"Calum, please, cum for me," says the blond again, clenching around him.

And Calum does, he reaches his orgasm not even a second after that, hips stuttering, "Fuck, Michael, I- I love you !"

Right after him, Michael cums undone on both his and the brunet's chest.

They both catch their breath for a minute, then Michael gets off Calum, and asks:

"Did you mean it?"

The tan man is confused for a second, before he remembers what he said.

I love you.

Fuck, he just told Michael he loved him when he cumed.

He just told Michael he loved him.

He wants to deny it, scared Michael is going to run away again, but he's tired of hiding.

"Yes. I meant it. I... I love you Michael."

He doesn't meet Michael's eyes, afraid of what he'll see in them, but the blond grabs his face to force Calum to look at him.

"I love you too," he tells him, smiling like a kid on Christmas day.

"You do?" asks Calum again, just wanting to hear Michael say it one more time.

"Yes, I love you Calum. Love you so much," he says before kissing him.

And they end up naked and sweating again.

~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~°.°~

"I have something for you," says Michael to him after they both came down.

He stands up to take something from his deck, and hands it to Calum.

The latter's eyes widen, "No fucking way! Black Pink concert?"

The blond nods, grinning at him, "Yep. Figured it could be our official first date as boyfriends."

Calum suddenly looks up, his heartbeat running like a rollercoaster, "Boyfriends?" he asks, beaming at the punk, who nods.

"Boyfriends," he confirms, biting his lip and smiling.

Calum studies his face. It's still red, he's eyes are a bit foggy, but they still hold a glint of joy, and love. He has seen many sides of Michael: the Michael that was mad at him, the one who made him desperate, the one who was desperate for him, the fake preppy rich boy one, and the happy one. He loves them all.

But the one he's witnessing right now is his favourite: Michael in love. Just then, feeling of relief and happiness comes crashing down on him when he realises.

Michael Clifford is finally his.

Tell me what you think!

and be totally honest with me, even if you hurt my feelings <3