Calum drags Luke from his bed when the sun hasn't yet filtered into the sky and heavy darkness still clings to the clouds. He shoves a mug of coffee into the blondes hands, thick aroma wrapping around his senses and forcing him awake.
"Why did you wake me up?" Luke asks, shuffling into the kitchen after Calum. He's in shorts and a baggy t-shirt, probably one of his older brothers, and barefoot. The wooden flooring is cool against his feet and he scribbles a mental note to wear flip flops in the morning.
Calum busies himself with the coffee pot. He's far too awake for someone up before the sun, and Luke's quick to leave that remark for the older boy. Calum laughs, a soft smooth sound. "If you sleep with me, you workout with me."
"Workout?" Luke questions as if its a foreign word. He shakes his head, sips at the steaming mug. "I don't-"
Calum cuts him off. "We'll only run today, preferably on the beach."
There's no if, ands or buts, Calum's already turned to look out the back sliding door at the pool. Luke shuffles around the kitchen, rubbing at his bleary, sleep encrusted eyes and sets the coffee mug down before flopping down in one of the chairs. He gives himself five minutes, at most, before he'll peel himself from the wooden chair and stumble back to his room to dress.
The sun's begun peeking up from behind the shade of houses and horizon blurred out with the waves crashing in from the ocean. Luke moves to his room slowly, eyes fixated on his neatly made bed and the sudden urge he feels to fall face first onto it. He knows Calum will drag him off if he catches him and decides he isn't about face planting onto the carpeted floor. He pulls off his pajamas, feels the cool air brush his skin and knock goosebumps across his flesh before he pulls on a fresh pair of shorts and a tank top, running a hand through his wildly strewn hair before picking up his sneakers from where they've been pushed partially under his bed and unlacing them to pull them on.
"Socks." Comes Ashton's sleepy voice. He's perched against the doorframe, blinking slowly and holding in a yawn. He smiles. "Calum tricked you into a run?"
Luke nods, giving a huff of defeat. He packed enough socks to last him three weeks yet he couldn't find it in himself to pull them on before he went running. Overly tired, that would be his excuse and maybe a little loopy from his adventures last night with James. He pulls open a drawer, rifles through for a pair of socks and tosses them on the floor beside his abandoned sneakers. Ashton steps into the room, pets Luke's head, gently pushing some of his messy hair into place and scratching the blonde's scalp when he leans into the touch.
"C'mon," Ashton noogies Luke's head. "Cal will throw a fit if you take too long."
~~~
Running in sand is not at all like it seems to be in movies. There's no balance, no time to correct a misstep before you launch into the quickly heating up grains, and it's like fucking quicksand, pulling you down and making you stumble.
Luke's laying in the sand, arm slung over his face, downright miserable. Hes at least ten yards behind Calum and can't figure for the life of him how the older boy seems to glide over the sand like cement. It's unreal and Luke wants to scream, flop down on the hot mess and roast alive. He's panting, completely wrecked and his hair is dangling in his face, the cute sleepy fringe Ashton had been playing with earlier that morning is soaked with sweat and possible tears that leave it matted to his cheeks and forehead. The whole idea of running in the morning itself is a torturous subject, but adding the beach to the equation will most definitely leave Luke scarred for the next few years when he ventures out with his family for a beach day.
"I don't know whether to pity you or laugh." Calum remarks. He's jogged back, is now jumping in place and swinging his arms back and forth, and is clearly set on the idea of teasing Luke until he pries himself off of the hot sand and wipes the grainy mess from his sticky body. Luke grumbles, sits on the idea of swinging an arm out into Calum's leg and knocking him to the sand but quickly pushes it back knowing he'd end up on top of Luke and they'd both be hot, sand covered, sticky boy messes with aching body parts and nasty bruises.
"Just leave me here to die."
Calum tuts, nudges Luke's arm with the toe of his sneaker. "Don't die, your mother would kill me." He sighs when Luke lets out a huff of air but doesn't make a move to sit up, and flops down on the sand beside him. "C'mon it's not even a long run." His words alone are enough to have Luke swinging his arm up to smack at the older boy's leg, eyes squinted harshly against the sun. "Fine," Calum huffs, pushing Luke's arm away. "Tell me about last night."
There's a break of silence, Luke dropping his arm back over his eyes. He breaths out loudly, squirms a bit and tries to hide the smile that takes over his lips. It's bittersweet, he's not sure why, but it is. "I'm not really sure how we started talking, he was kind of just there."
"Details." Calum pushes, nudging Luke's arm.
"He wasn't as tall as me-"
Calum laughs dryly. "No one ever is."
Luke raises his arm, eyebrow going as well and Calum bows his head in meek apology. "Anyway, his hands were huge, like we started dancing and his hands swallowed my sides, and they were soft." Luke smiles, thinking back to how soft James had been in general. "He had really pretty eyes too, like I felt like I could fall into them and drown, and like I'd be so okay with that. And he didn't push alcohol on me-" Luke breaks off, eyes shooting to meet Calums.
The older boy was frowning, shook his head. "That wasn't right of Michael, I'm really-"
"It's fine." Luke cuts him off, deterring off topic. "You didn't do anything wrong."
Calum hums, shakes his head again but stays quiet so Luke continues on. "You saw us in the kitchen." He thinks back to James comment about Calum 'brunettes cute', it's etched in Luke's mind, reels in a soft jealousy he hadn't noticed at the time. It's petty, to think Calum would go after James if he was even interested, the prospect of someone who'd taken even a remote interest in Luke suddenly ditching him for someone else, a friend of all people. He knew Calum wouldn't go for it, but still the thought was there. "He's really nice, and like we were on the couch kissing, and god, Cal, his lips."
"You're disgusting," Calum laughs, pushing at Luke's side. The blonde lets out a squeal, rolling away slightly. "I don't want to hear about your make out sessions with lover boy."
It's Luke's turn to laugh, he shakes his head, rolls back over towards Calum, not pleased with the heated sand he'd rolled onto. He smiled fondly up at Calum until the older boy ruffled his and stood up, kicking up sand. He hold's his hand down for Luke and the blonde huffs before taking his grip and pulling himself up.
"Let's go. I'm hungry." Luke nods at Calum's words, hopes they won't be running home until the older boy takes off, leaving Luke far behind.
~~~
They're laughing, shoving each other out of the way to get inside the air conditioned house first. Calum tumbles through the door, palm flat against Luke's cheek. "Get away from me," He giggles, nearly tripping over a shoelace. Luke hums, closes the door behind them and jumps on Calum's back. "Ugh!"
Ashton's standing in the kitchen, eyebrows raised and a soft smile playing on his lips. "You're sunburned." He raises a glass of orange juice to his lips. Luke frowns, pushes off of Calum's back slightly to peer at his shoulders. Sure enough, his pale peachy skin is red, freckled too underneath the heated skin. Just what he needs, burned shoulders to go along with his already burned nose, he hopes they don't peel, that's awful.
"Is Mike up?" Calum asks. He's wrapped his hands around Luke's thighs tightly, and takes a step forward.
Ashton shakes his head, "Not that I've heard or seen." He looks at the stairs. "Luke, wake him up?"
The blonde raises his eyebrows, tightens his hands around Calum's neck and shakes his head. "Hell no, he'll rip me to shreds." Ashton gives him a tired huff. "He's a ball of cuddles in the morning, please?"
Which explains how Luke found himself pulled halfway under the soft linen sheets of Michaels bed with the older boys arms wrapped around his waist and his nose buried in Luke's throat, breathing out soft huffs of hot air. He'd almost purred when Luke's palm had touched his arm, brushed the skin ever so softly and whispered "Michael?" only to deaf, sleeping ears. It's hot and uncomfortable, Michael's almost rolled on top of him and he's wearing a pair of boxers, that's it. Luke doesn't like the small sounds he's making or the way he seems to nuzzle up into the crook of Luke's throat, brushing his nose over the soft, sensitive skin repeatedly almost breathing in his scent.
"Michael." He tries again to no avail. "Michael, please wake up. You're really hot."
It starts as a low humming sound and ends in a bleary eyed, blink Michael Clifford yawning out "I know," and biting Luke's shoulder softly. "Why are you in here?" He's mouthing at Luke's shoulder blade now, cautious but sloppy. "Hmm?"
"They told me to wake you up." It's soft, and Michael hums in response.
"So you decided crawling in bed with me would do the trick?" Michael yawns again, arms still tight around Luke's waist. It's not as uncomfortable as Luke would have thought, not even the fact that it's Michael's arms around him, holding him tightly. The older boy hums, buries his face back in Luke's neck and blinks, eyelashes fluttering coolly against his warm skin. Luke's throat feels dry, and he knows Michael can feel the unsteady beat of his heart, and god he just wants to be swallowed by a black hole.
It's not until Calum comes in fifteen minutes later to find Luke with pleading eyes and Michael tucked against him snoring that he's finally freed from the boy, left with a quickly cooling sensation of body heat slipping from his skin and the faint smell of lemon shampoo lingering in his cloudy mind. He's sticky with sweat and his hair looks atrocious, and he keeps his gaze low to the ground when he slinks out of Michael's room, Calum on his heels to find Ashton standing at the kitchen doorway with an almost overly pleased smile, none of that matters though.
He'd just cuddled with Michael, and somehow made it out without a bruised ego.