“Do you remember that one time Luke flipped over the front of his bike?”
Calum snorted in response, “Yeah, the dumbass was trying to impress that one girl and he ended up in the emergency room.”
“Yeah,” you replied, taking the wine bottle from Calum’s nimble fingers and trying to swallow down the urge to clasp your hand in his at the mere stroke of his skin on yours. “He bled all over my new shirt on the drive there,” you added a few beats later after taking a swig.
Sighing, the brunette leaned his head against the large oak tree behind the two of you; his figure sitting parallel to yours as you two sat atop a hill overlooking the lake. The sound of crickets and the cackles of the campfire every so often from where your friends were drinking just a little ways down the hill behind you were the only sounds audible besides Calum’s long, calculated breaths next to you; the gentle inhales and exhales the only thing to calm your racing heart. Though you two always invaded each other’s personal space considering you were his best friend just as much as he was yours, you couldn’t help but revel in the press of his thigh against yours and his warm shoulder brushing your skin.
Spending the weekend with the bassist was inevitable considering you two were (and always had been) the only single people who attended the annual “Friend’s Camping” trip that the boys and a couple of friends went on every year, but you definitely weren’t complaining. Since the boys were on the road more often than not, you always felt deprived of spending time with the boy you’d known since you were eighteen and stupid so being glued to each other’s sides (even through enduring teasing from the others about “just getting together”) in the early summer wilderness (though the campground bathrooms had plumping) wasn’t a problem. And if you happened to be head over heels in love with the kid, well, that was another story.
Following a few minutes of comfortable silence, a taunting call of “Hey lovebirds, we’re calling it a night” up the hill from a certain blonde guitarist and a giggle of his wife right after roused you from the calming presence Calum and you created. Groaning, the brunette flopped his head onto your shoulder, huffing (the gust of air from his lips across your chest causing an array of goosebumps to appear in it’s wake) before begrudgingly pulling himself up into a standing position. Without a word, he extended both of his hands to you and popped you up to match his stance, though he didn’t quite anticipate just how compliant you were. Within a split second, your chest was pressed into his and your faces were mere centimeters apart; the stumble of your feet from the abrupt change in gravity causing you to fall further into Calum before his hands sturdily grasped your elbows to steady you.
“Y’ok?” he whispered, the heat of his word just barely brushing your lips.
“Y-Yeah,” you stuttered, your eyes flickering rapidly from his mouth, parted slightly, to his eyes, and back down again. “You?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, frozen for a second before just barely drawing nearer to you.
Just before his lips reached yours, another call of, “Hey, stop having sex up there, we’re all going to bed!” caused Calum to jump away from you, his mouth gaping open before shutting tightly and pressing his lips together. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked down the hill, leaving you to touch your fingers to your tingling lips.
With a sigh, after you forced yourself to believe you’d imagined the whole thing, you followed him down the hill. Already, he was in your shared tent, the dimmed lantern light casting the shadow of his figure unzipping his sleeping bag and crawling inside upon the canvas material. After peering at all the other tents of your friends scattered around the tiny patch of land you all had rented for the weekend and gathering all of your necessary courage, you cautiously zipped open the tent and quickly closed it shut behind you as to not allow bugs entrance. Without glancing at Calum’s side of the tent, you managed to undress as smoothly as you possibly could in the small enclosed space before pulling a tank top over your torso and worming your way into your own makeshift bed. Unceremoniously, you clicked the lantern off and easily adjusted to the dim lighting of your surroundings, trying to ignore the shuffling of the bassist on the other side of the tent, less than two feet away from you.
A few minutes later, the whispers of your friends died down; their own lights shutting off in suit before you concluded, after what could’ve been mere seconds or hours, that they were asleep. It came as a shock when Calum’s weak inquiry of, “Did you want me to kiss you?” interrupted the quiet.
For a moment, you only stared straight up at the crisscrossing of poles of the tent you were in before forcing yourself to face the man that was already staring at you. His expression was blank but his eyes were sincere, the slight nibble of his lip between his teeth telling you it took a lot of convincing himself to ask the question. Simply, you answered. “I wouldn’t’ve complained.”
Nodding, Calum rolled to the side so that he laid on his back again, his hands threaded together neatly over his chest as he let the silence settle again before imploring, “Do you remember Luke’s wedding?”
Despite the tension clearly settled between you two, you couldn’t help but snort in reply. “Please, Cal, I wasn’t that drunk.”
“You sure about that?” he teased, his clear jest at your memorable accidental flashing on the dancefloor causing his smile to shine visibly in the dark.
“Oh please,” you scoffed (a little harsher than intended), rolling your eyes. “I wasn’t drunk enough to forget that bridesmaid hitting on you for the entire night.”
A thick silence followed your comment and despite the fact that a dismissal of your slip of apparent jealousy was just on the tip of your tongue, Calum’s figure shifting into a sitting position beside you was enough to keep you from letting it fly free. “I didn’t do anything with her, if that makes a difference.”
You shrugged, already tired of the conversation. “It doesn’t, Calum. You can fuck anyone you want, okay? It’s not any of my business.”
And immediately, you wished you could take back your comment considering Calum wasn’t being rude or offensive and your tone was anything but pleasant. However, before you could even begin to form an apology, the brunette’s admittance of, “I really wanted to ask you to dance that night” knocked the breath right from your lungs. He shrugged, shaking his head at his fidgeting hands as he let out a wry chuckle though no trace of humor was evident. “And like, I know that we did dance and stuff together that night because, you know, best friends and everything, but,” he hesitated, heaving a huge sigh before drawing his legs up to his chest and crossing his arms over his knees. “I really wanted to dance with you when the slow songs came on and whisper things into your ear just to hear you laugh into mine and fuck,” he grumbled, “I really just wanted to kiss you.” After audibly swallowing, he added, “Always, you know? I always wanna kiss you.”
Carefully, as to not spook him, you sat up and mirrored Calum’s stance, your eyes meeting his as you gently rested your chin on your crossed arms. Quietly, you confessed, “I really wanted you to ask me to dance.”
“Fuck,” the bassist muttered, burying his hands in his hair. “I should’ve done it. I should’ve just fucking grabbed you and taken you to the dancefloor and fucking kissed you.” Frustratedly, he wiped at the wetness that’d suddenly appeared on his cheeks with the back of his hand before he held your gaze again. “I would’ve done anything for you… Still would, if I’m being honest.”
“Then kiss me,” you declared, watching Calum’s eyes comically widen.
“What?” he asked, oddly bewildered at your request.
“Kiss me,” you repeated, rolling your eyes at his frozen figure before clambering completely out of your warm sleeping bag and crawling over to him. Compliantly, Calum let you push his legs apart so that he was sitting in a criss cross position and easily allowed you to climb into his lap, your legs wrapping loosely around his torso. “Kiss me,” you whispered again, his lips just inches away from yours for the second time that night again.
With only a second’s declaration of “Shit, I love you” seperating the time between your lips being bare and being covered with Calum’s, you were feverishly soaking in all that there was of the man wrapping his arms around your body, his mouth moving against yours with an intoxicating fevor you’d never experienced before. Only after completely twining your hands in his curly hair and pressing your full torso against his did the interruption of, “If you guys need condoms, I have some,” broke you apart. Instantly, a chorus of cheering and laughter from your friends followed who you assumed to be - given the close proximity of his tent and yours - Michael’s comment. Embarrassed, you bashfully pressed your forehead to Calum’s and whined, his giggle at your action causing your heart rate to jump.
“Alright guys,” he calmed them after pressing a few peck to your lips and deciding their shouting had gone on long enough. “Kinda thought you all were asleep and everything, so if you could go along and keep that act up, I’d really like to keep kissing my… girlfriend…?” he asked, his eyebrows scrunching in question.
“Yeah,” you added, smiling at him while raising your voice so the group could hear again, “And don’t you dare complain about us kissing considering my boyfriend and I have endured countless awkward sideline scenarios of you all making out.”
And whether they all started screaming again because of your jest at them or confirming the fact that you and the brunette were now an official thing, you’d never really know for sure considering you were already blissfully lost in all that was Calum once again.
inspired by “enchanted” - taylor swift || all pieces from the tsinspired!5sos night here ● all my personal tsinspired!5sos pieces here
Pursed lips and quirking eyebrows were all Calum had seen the past hour, his double shot of bourbon making his arm feel like lead as he stood with his other hand in his suit pocket. People he’d never met (and to be honest, would rather not ever know) had talked at him like they knew him, like they knew his story and his roots and just how deep his connection ran deep into the ground of his band.
He smiled, told them “thank you for coming,” that he was glad they enjoyed their album. The upturn of his lips never quite lit up like when he was horsing around with his bandmates backstage or figuring out a new melody, but it was okay. The annual official label party he was required to attend was full of the same pompous people who had more money than they could ever even spend he’d seen every year, so he was more than a little shocked when his eyes met yours across the large ballroom (much too formal for his likings). Your skin glittered with sweat in the dim lighting of the place as a result of dancing (one of the few who dared to - god forbid - actually do what was intended in a place built for dancing) and your hair was falling out of a style that Calum could only guess was professionally achieved. Cocking your head to the side, your lips puckered into a small ‘o’ as your eyebrows knitted as if to ask, “Have we met?”
And then, before the brunette had a moment to steel himself and try to wet his abruptly parched throat, you were slinking between the masses of people; the space separating you and him suddenly non existent as you stopped right in front of him and extended your hand while announcing your name.
“U-um, Calum. Calum Hood,” he reciprocated, trying to discreetly wipe his sweaty hand on his suit pants before grasping your hand and shaking it in greeting.
“Yeah, I know,” you responded before dropping your hand back down to your side. “You’re kinda like, you know, the reason this label is afloat.”
A nervous titter bubbled up Calum’s throat, a laugh squeaking it’s way out of his lips before he embarrassedly covered his mouth, a light pink dusting his cheeks. “So,” he cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way your eyes lit up at the flush across his cheeks because goddamnit he just met you, you should not have this affect on him. “What’re you doing here?”
Smirking, you crossed your arms across your chest and raised an eyebrow. “Well, I mean, this is kind of a party for people who work at this label, so… you know,” you teased, “I work at the label.”
“Really?” Calum wondered, his voice raising in question. “I’ve never seen you around before.”
Plucking a glass of champagne as a caterer walked by with a tray full of them, you remarked, “Well, yeah, because you work in the studio and music part of the company,” before taking a sip. Responding to the brunette’s raised eyebrows, you continued. “I work in the business sector. You know, like, the technical stuff.”
“Hm,” he nodded. “But I still go to a lot of meetings with executives and stuff, so I feel like I should’ve met you before.”
Snorting, you shook your head. “Nah,” you replied, “I just started six months ago, there’s no way I’d be in a meeting with the executives.”
And just like that, you easily fell into a conversation that flowed without prompting; topics ranging from the types of music you belted to in the shower to where his favorite place to eat was back in his hometown. It came as a complete shock when you glanced at your phone, after lounging on a loveseat with the brunette, to find four missed calls from the friend you arrived at the party with.
“Oh shit,” you muttered, sending her a quick text before turning to Calum with a frown. “I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”
“Are you sure?” He asked, sitting up from where he was slouched comfortably against the furniture as you gathered your things.
“Yeah,” you mumbled, trying to avoid looking at the crestfallen expression spread across the boy’s face. “I have to go to New York tomorrow morning for a conference, since I’m the farthest down the ladder,” you stated while pulling your coat on. “I get to sit and watch a bunch of smart people talk about statistics for two days.”
“Oh,” he acknowledged before offering his arm to you to walk you to the exit. “You’ll text me?” He asked once you two entered the brisk night air and he crossed his arms in an attempt to keep himself warm.
“I promise,” you avowed, glancing over your shoulder at your friend yelling your name a few carlinks down the street. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Calum replied with a nod and a smile. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Good,” you stated, before boldly gathering him into a hug and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Ignoring the teasing of your friend as you reached her car, you waved at Calum as he grinned at you from the entrance of the venue, hoping he was just as hooked as you were him.
inspired by “i know places” - taylor swift || all pieces from the tsinspired!5sos night here || all my personal tsinspired!5sos pieces here
“Hey,” Calum’s voice, low and quiet, sounded from behind you, a mere second before his fingertips were settling into the flesh of your hips and breath succeeded in tickling your neck. “Just where do you think you’re going, missy?”
“Mm,” you hummed, threading your fingers with his and pulling him behind you, his lips pressing against your neck in a sponging manner. “We’re getting out of here.”
“Ooh,” the brunette mused, a hint of laughter evident in his voice, “And where would that be?”
You shrugged, stealing a glance over your shoulder and suddenly coming within centimeters of the bassist’s face, his breath fanning across your cheeks. “I guess we’ll know when we get there.”
Your eyes flickered down to Calum’s lips before licking your own, the night air still and silent, just before the trance holding the two of you captive were broken with the shouts of, “Hey, I think they went this way!” Immediately, the brunette was yanking you behind him, his toned figure just barely visible in the scarce light of the alley you found yourself running through, no streetlights aiding your trek. Absentmindedly, you watched Calum’s muscles ripple against the material of his shirt, the vigorous grind of skin against bone provoking unholy thoughts to formulate in your mind, eventually prompting you to pull him to a halt.
“Wha–” he panted, his breaths short and quick from the sprint. “What’s wrong?”
Simply smirking, you trailed your hands up his torso before settling on his chest and pushing him back towards the brick wall of what you assumed to be an apartment building. With a “hmph,” the brunette hit the hard surface and your body was pressing into his.
“Mm, I love it when you’re rough,” Calum teased after the initial shock of your action faded, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
“Shut up, Hood,” you shot back, entwining your arms around his neck and delicately winding your fingers through the curls that lay there.
“Make me,” he whispered, his lips parting as he watched your eyebrow raise.
“Is that a challenge?”
Shrugging, the bassist settled his hands on your hips and pulled you close enough to him that there was no space left between his bottom and yours. “If that’s what it takes to get you to kiss me, then yes.”
“Eh, fair enough,” you approved, before you closed your eyes and puckered your lips to meet Calum’s. Only a few seconds of actual kissing commenced before a giggle erupted from your throat, the sound getting lost and muddled between the ending of your lips and the beginning of Calum’s. Your laughter proved to be contagious as the brunette was soon joining you, his hot breath warming your cheek as he cracked up. Only the sound of vicious camera shutters and a taunting proclamation of, “Aw, look at the lovebirds, gettin’ it on in an alley,” sobered the two of you up; Calum once again leading the way as you weaved in between garbage cans and random trinkets in the dark of the night.
“Fuck,” Calum panted with his hands on his knees, finally coming to a stop after you were sure you’d lost the paparazzi minutes later. “Why,” he stopped to catch his breath again before continuing, “Why do they care so much?”
You shrugged, leaning against the chainlink fence lining the alley as your heartbeat began to slow. “Dunno,” you responded, “But I sure as hell wish they’d fuck off.”
“Yeah,” the brunette agreed, finally straightening his posture and stretching his arms over his head, a strip of his stomach exposed due to the action. “Or that we could be some place they couldn’t find us.”
After a beat of silence, you cautiously stated, “We can, you know.”
“We can what?” Calum asked, coming to stand next to you and mimicking your position against the grated metal barrier, your silhouettes like an indie film come to life.
“We can go, get outa’ here… “ you considered, waving your hand in front of you as you vocalized the thoughts spinning around your head, “Just hop on a plane and.. Go.”
Calum pondered your suggestion for only a few moments before declaring, “Yep, we’re going.”
“Where, though?” You implored as Calum set to order an uber, his face softly illuminated by the light of his phone screen.
“Doesn’t matter, love bug,” he replied, smirking at your face pinched in mock disgust at the nickname. “Anywhere you go, I’m right behind you.”
It wasn’t until you were standing in the check-in at the local airport with only a backpack each that you stopped to think about where you were truly going to end up.
“What about Madrid?” You asked, leaning into Calum’s taut body after he encased your shoulders with his long arms and pulled you into him.
“Sure, baby,” he replied, his lips coming to rest noncommittally at your temple.
“Eh, we’ll probably be easily found there,” you fretted, chewing on your lip before extending your arm to point at another destination. “That Fiji flight leaves in an hour.” As you waited for him to respond, you raised both of your hands to clutch onto the bassist, your thumbs beginning to swipe back and forth against Calum’s soft skin.
“Yeah, sounds good,” he mumbled, the words lacking pronunciation as a result of refusing to depart from your skin.
“Cal,” you whined, shuffling in the bracket of his arms so that you faced him. “Help me decide.”
He simply smiled, pressing a quick peck to your lips that were puckered into a pout before disclosing, “I’m serious babe, I’ll follow you anywhere.”
Unable to help himself at the widening of your eyes, the brunette let a high pitched giggle slip past his lips before grinning at you. “But…” you wondered, your eyebrows crinkling in thought. “Aren’t you scared they’re gonna catch us?”
“No,” Calum stated, grinning down at you. “I don’t care anymore, baby. Let them say what they want; you know for me it’s always you,” sealing his declaration with a kiss to your nose; laughing when you scrunched it at the action..
“Fine,” you agreed, grabbing the boy’s hand and shooting him devious look over your shoulder as you pulled him with you. “Fiji it is then.”
When Calum is sad, he pulls out his acoustic guitar. The slender burgundy neck of the instrument is easier to maneuver than his usual preferred choice of the bass as he’s prone to fumbling with the strings across the worn frets with bleary eyes and sweaty fingers that are commonly bleeding by the time he’s done with an emotional session. Sitting with his back flush to the wall, the brunette always rests the groove of the guitar his father gifted him a few months after the band had started to gain fame against his right knee while his chin hovers over the taut chords, notepad balancing precariously on the pane of his other knee with a black ink pen held between his teeth.
He looks beautiful, to put it simply. Calum’s mouth, whenever inspiration struck him, is always pinched in concentration and accompanied by a crease between his eyebrows. Half formed melodies and riffs fall from his lips while his fingers dance across the strings of the perfectly tuned instrument, his eyes only leaving the sanction of the guitar to snap to the crumpled stack of bound paper and scrawl a lyric or two before racing back.
You’d always loved to watch him work and even more loved to listen to him play. On some mornings, you’d wake up the gentle plucking of the ukulele he’d bought on a surprise vacation to Hawaii for your first year anniversary backed by his melodious voice rambling about the way the color of the bed sheets contrasted your skin or the tiny bit of dried drool on your cheek looked in the morning light. Whenever you’d come home to the incessant strumming of electric guitar angrily pumping through the speaker in the “music room” upstairs, you knew better than to ask him what was wrong. You simply made your way up to the source of the noise, set yourself down on the floor in front of your significant other’s seated position, and rested your cheek against his thigh. Sometimes, your touch and adoring gaze tilted up at him were enough to calm him down in mere seconds. Other times, you listened to him play rough cover after rough cover of the angriest rock songs Calum would conjure up from his mind. Either way, once his frustrated work ethic was quelled, he’d always silently thank you for understanding him and just being there with a simple press of his lips to yours.
When you found him stroking the strings of his acoustic guitar in the corner of your shared bedroom, his dark eyelashes clumped together with tears, it was always your first instinct to wrap yourself around Calum and coddle him until his sorrow felt like a faraway strife of the distant past. Though you knew to not act on your first reaction due to the fact that separating the brunette from his guitar when he was upset was like trying to sever the binding of gum plastered the bottom of an arcade table, you settled for the next best thing and wordlessly coaxed him to settle his socked feet into your lap; drawing mindless shapes on his toned calves until he was ready to talk about what it was that was bothering him.
He hadn’t felt your touch in a while.
For three years, you and him were together. Sometimes, Calum liked to think that the good overshadowed the bad but the reality and weight of the entire situation was always abundantly clear whenever he wasn’t drinking or lighting up another cigarette; what the two of you shared was destined to end before it even began.
It started as a secret, like anyone’s personal affairs usually do if they live in the limelight. Shared kisses and mouths covered to quiet giggles only lasted for a few months before sneaking around started to feel like hiding. Calum saw going public as the only solution as he always noticed the slight wince you covered with a smile each time he introduced you as his friend or the way you tried to act nonchalant about him pulling his hand away from yours whenever any group of teenage girls appeared within a 200 foot radius of the two of you even as you frowned.
For a while, it worked. In fact, it didn’t just work… It prospered. It grew. Calum had never felt love before, never truly questioned the warm feeling in his chest he felt when he thought about you until he left for tour and was stuck with only seeing your face through a tiny screen every few days for months. Moving into a two story condo together happened as naturally as time moved and admitting this feeling he’d ignored for so long was something akin to love to himself was as easy as breathing. Calum was in love and he was happy and he saw a future with you as his wife with a kid six years down the line, if he was being honest with himself.
Sometimes though, love just… isn’t enough.
Calum didn’t have regular office hours; his job was 24/7 whether he liked it or not. Sure, having people sing the lyrics he wrote back to him at sold-out stadiums across the world just about beat any everyday occupation, but being a member of the world’s biggest band offstage came with a dizzying pressure imposed by the media and fans. His life was always displayed under a microscope, the bassist’s minuscule mistakes and minor bad moods turned into front page claims of “ROCKSTAR GONE WILD” on tabloids and scoffs in his direction whenever he so much as stood within two feet of you.
Phone calls every night turned into infrequent texts over the course of a week and Calum was putting more energy than ever into writing lyrics about the ache in his heart when he thought about you than he did actually conversing with you. When he came home from yet another tour, it wasn’t surprising to either of you that both of you agreed to throw the towel in, but the screamed remarks of “Well fuck, I’m not even sure if I ever loved you,” and “Well dammit, fine then! Maybe I’ve been unconsciously searching for someone to reciprocate the feelings I’ve felt for you for three years for a while now” stung like sunburned lips. After a moment of tense silence though, Calum nodded, shrugging; sliding into his cool and collected “stage” persona before simply asking, “So when are you gonna be gone so I can come and pick up my stuff?” (And though he tries (tries so damn hard) to forget the sight of your slacked jaw he’s pretty sure it’ll be engrained on the backs of his eyelids for as long as he breathes because whenever he tries to fall asleep, it’s there there there.)
Ever since breaking up, the brunette had given up his days off to collaborate with more writers, always coming up with new content though his constant use of his acoustic guitar and subject of heartbreak and longing remained the same.
Really though, Calum could never be angry at you for choosing someone better fit for your lifestyle. Someone who kissed you awake every morning and bickered over what to make for dinner for the coming night as you brushed your teeth together. He hated the situation and what became of the relationship you both once had, sure, but he could never hate you.
He only wished things had turned out differently, that you were still his and he was yours, but alas, for now… It’s just Calum and his guitar.
Branches entwined with glowing white, circle lanterns lit a wooded path from the reception tent to the pristine hotel just next to the wood’s back entrances, your hands clutched tightly around Calum’s arm as he laid his own free one against yours; the heat from his palm making you giggle drunkenly into the late night.
“What’s so funny, baby?” Calum asked, his lips kinking into a fond smile as he led you both away from the tent, the thump of the bass still booming though it was growing fainter each step you took away from it.
You shrugged, though the movement nearly knocked you over as a result of your off-kilter equilibrium. “So warm,” you muttered dazedly, stumbling over the ends of your dress before Calum pulled the two of you to a halt. You thought he was simply going to wait for you to knot the sheer fabric above your knees so you wouldn’t trip over it again and let out a surprised “oomph” when he promptly swiped his arms beneath your knees and arms and picked you up. “Cal,” you mumbled in disagreement, frowning at his gesture and squirming in his arms, “Put me down.”
Rolling his eyes, Calum continued his trek towards the hotel as if he wasn’t holding another grown person in his arms; as if your weight meant nothing. “Shh, baby,” he cooed, smiling at the employee who held the door open for him. “I’ve got you.”
“But Cal,” you whined into his neck after shoving it into the warm crevice when you realized people were looking at the two of you. “You know it makes me feel insecure.”
Though you couldn’t see it, you knew (even in your slight drunken stupor) that your boyfriend was frowning. “I know, pumpkin,” he started, clumsily raising his foot once he reached the elevators and pressing the button with the point of his toe. “I know you don’t like when I do this but it would’ve taken us ages to get up to our room considering how slow you move when you’re drunk.”
“Hey,” you piped up, your face pinching into a sulky expression that made Calum absolutely weak at the knees before lightly hitting his chest. “I am not drunk.”
The brunette quirked an eyebrow and smiled teasingly down at you. “You had like seven glasses of champagne baby.”
Your pout further deepened as you burrowed yourself into his chest again, your mumble of “It was good champagne” into his collared baby blue shirt making him laugh. Absentmindedly, you fiddled with the button lines down Calum’s torso as he carried you into the elevator and pressed a kiss to his chest, right above where his heart lay.
“Did you have a good night, baby?” the brunette asked quietly, the low hum of the elevator shaft the only accompaniment to his soft voice.
“Mhm,” you nodded, yawning. “‘S good.” After a moment of silent deliberation, you added, “Can’t wait until it’s us, though.”
As of a few hours ago, you and Calum became the last of the 5sos couples to not be married. Every year since the boys had settled in L.A. three years ago and really focused on building their record label’s reputation, one of the boys happened to have a summer wedding. Today, Luke and his partner had tied the knot and both you and your boyfriend were honorary members of the wedding party, but to be honest… it was getting a little old being the one to hold the bride’s dress while she peed or holding back tears while listening to heart-felt vows being exchanged or watching the father-daughter dance from the sidelines. You wanted to be the one walking down the aisle and cutting the cake and accepting congratulations from friends and family members alike until “thankyou” felt foreign on your tongue from saying it too much.
“Okay, then let’s get married.”
Immediately, your head popped out from Calum’s sturdy chest again, your breath catching in your throat as you choked out a disbelieving, “What?”
“You heard me,” he stated with a smirk. “Marry me.” After a beat, he added. “I triple dog dare you.”
You stared at the brunette, your mouth open wide as he stepped out of the elevator when the doors opened to the fifth floor. Before you could contain yourself, a laugh bubbled from your lungs and up your throat and out of your mouth until you were practically shrieking with giggles. “You-you–” you gasped, trying to catch your breath.
“Shh, baby, there’s people sleeping right now.”
Shooting him an incredulous look, you had to refrain yourself from flicking his nose. “Excuse me, you’re the dumbass who just triple dog dared me to marry you.”
Cautiously, Calum set you down before fishing through his pockets for the room key. “Exactly darling, and I know you well enough to know that you never back down from a dare.”
You followed him into the suite once he’d unlocked the door and wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your face against the expansive planes of his back muscles before remarking, “Well, I’d hope you’d know me well enough to know that, considering we’re gonna get married and stuff now.”
“So that’s a yes then?” Calum asked, spinning around in your grasp and grinning down at you.
“No,” you replied, gently pecking his nose before just barely brushing your lips against his. “That’s a triple dog yes.”
(#61: “I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married.” / #98: “I can’t watch you with someone else. It’s tearing me apart.”)
Twelve minutes past four o’clock on a Saturday afternoon, you were staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your white satin dress looked exquisite on you; the material laying across your body as perfectly as it had two weeks prior when you arrived at your last fitting. Hair tailored to perfection and not a speck of makeup out of line; you looked fit for the monarchy, like you were someone who’s face belonged on postage stamps and splashed across tabloid covers. Glinting in the sunlight of the window, cracked open due to the stuffiness of the room, sat a diamond encrusted ring on your the finger next to your pinky. It was wrapped around as snug as all the bobby pins in your hair felt, handmade just for you as per your fiancé’s requests and outrageous amounts of money he paid to have them carried out. “Forever yours” was inscribed in cursive script in the inside of the band but you never really tugged the ring off to look at it (because unadmittedly, the thought of “forever” was a little daunting and quite frankly, made you a bit queasy).
A soft knock and a gentle push of a door unlocking from it’s frame shook you out of your crippling reverie, the dark brunette of your best friend’s hair shining in the sunlight as his eyes slowly cast up your body with a look of awe brought a grin to your face.
“What d’ya think?” you asked, twirling around so the bottom of the dress fanned out a little bit but nearly toppling over as soon as you started due to the heavy weight of the material. Before you even felt yourself falling, you found yourself burrowed into Calum’s chest, his grip on your torso eliciting a giggle from you. “You can let go now,” you wheezed, the crinkles by the corners of your eyes once stood you upright again making his heart drum against it’s confines.
“S-Sorry,” the brunette muttered dazedly, his gaze still glossed over as he stared at you.
Your face crinkled in concern. “Am I wearing too much makeup? Fuck,” you whispered, already beginning to stalk towards the mirror. “I knew it was too mu–”
“Hey,” Calum interrupted, his hand just barely catching and grasping yours before tugging you back towards him. “Nothing’s wrong, Y/N. You look beautiful, okay?”
Suddenly, you though ground was incredibly interesting, the repetitive designs of the expensive carpet holding your gaze as you shyly replied, “Thank you.”
For a moment, Calum felt like he couldn’t breathe. He’d come in to your room before the wedding with one intention (to rouse you for the ceremony) and might very well walk out with another (straight out the back doors and far, far away). He couldn’t fathom how he let this happened, how he let so many moments when it was so clear that there was something between you guys just… slip away. Brushed them off. Told all his friends who warned him he better court you before you “ran off with someone else” that somehow, he knew you and him would always end up together, so why rush it?
It was standing in front of you, both in your finest get-ups (you in your wedding dress and he in his tux though he wasn’t the one you were marrying) that he realized looking back… he only had regrets.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, noticing the frown and slight quiver in your best friends bottom lip.
Before he could even think a rational thought, the proclamation of “I love you” was sitting, waiting in the open air. With a roll of his eyes at the ceiling, Calum continued. “I’m completely and utterly in love with you.” He swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing at the movement just at your eye level as you stared open-mouthed at him. “Please don’t get married.”
“B-But– you–” you stuttered, desperately trying to keep your tears from falling and ruining the makeup you’d sat in a chair for an hour to get. “Cal, you–what?”
Calum shook his head, stepping away from you. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he kicked at the ground as a shallow, bitter laugh left his lips. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, sounding anything but (though his eyes screamed remorse). “I know that this is so, so unfair to you,” he shrugged. “But I can’t, okay?” His chocolate brown orbs finally raised to meet yours. “I can’t watch you with someone else. It’s tearing me apart.”
He let his words sink in for a few seconds before pressing his lips into a firm line as you continued to gape at him. “I’ll see myself out then,” the brunette muttered, his head down as he turned around.
“Wait,” you beckoned, desperation evident in the single syllable.
Sadly, he looked over his shoulder, tears falling freely.
You swallowed, casting a glance at the clock on the wall before balling up the train of your dress and nodding at the love of your life, declaring “I’m coming with you.”
insp. i // insp. ii // finished requests || +masterlist
Could you do "How come I can't let go of you?" with Calum? *already crying*
insp.
Uneven breaths and stuttered gasps of unsaid words stuck to your tongue; your back aching as a result of the amount of time you’d spent pressed against your apartment door. You’d been there for nearly an hour; listening to your ex ramble due to the alcohol he’d apparently consumed earlier in the night. It hadn’t been the first time Calum had taken up residence at the entrance of your apartment but it was the first he hadn’t been banging against the door, begging for answers. He’d been quiet and timid as he slumped against the frame of the door and you supposed that hurt even more than having to ask him to leave because of your neighbor’s noise complaints.
“I thought it was gonna be us, you know?” Calum slurred, his head thumping against the doorframe of the entrance he used to know so well. “I thought—I thought we were gonna have a two story house and a white picket fence, the whole suburban package, you know?” He sighed, his voice dropping so low you had to hold your breath and press your ear against the thick wood to hear his next statement. “I thought it was you and me.”
Pressing your lips together in a thin line, you crossed your arms tightly across your stomach; the rolls of your slumped torso quivering as you held back sobs; not letting the slightest peep of a cry out because Calum didn’t know you were listening (if you were even home to be honest) and you weren’t about to let him know now (even if you desperately wanted to retch open the door, throw yourself into the brunette’s arms, and never let go of him again).
“I was with Luke tonight, and he was talking about this girl he’s been seeing,” the brunette babbled. “He asked me if I wanted him to hook me up with her friend—“ your heart clenched uncomfortably at the thought, “—but I couldn’t. I told him no.” He sniffled. “And you know what? That’s shit; complete and utter shit because we broke up months ago and I shouldn’t even think about you anymore but… but what if that never happens?” His words were starting to become incoherent as you listened to cries slowly become more apparent through the door. “I just—I can’t, okay? You’re still the only thing I consistently see when I think about my future.” Calum hiccuped before desperately asking, “How come I can’t let go of you?”
You tried to swallow around the lump in your throat but ended up letting out a slight cough at the action; immediately hearing the brunette shift at the sound on the other side of the door if the creak of the uneven wooden planks in the hallway said anything.
“Y/N?”
You pushed yourself up from your position and angrily swiped at your tears, pleading with yourself to keep silent.
“Y/N,” Calum begged, clumsily rising to his feet as well and leaning against the door. “I know you’re in the baby, please, just open the door.”
Not being able to contain yourself anymore, you openly sobbed, the heaves of tears and unsteady breaths causing Calum’s heart to clench.
“Please, baby,” the brunette coaxed desperately, his forehead pressed against the door as his wet eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks. “Just turn the handle and let me in.”
“I can’t,” you cried, your shaking hands tucked tightly under your arms as your body broke into a cold sweat. “I can’t, Cal.”
“Pumpkin,” your ex calmly stated, sounding much more sober than he had the past hour. “Please open the door.”
Clumsily, you stepped forward and grasped the frigid metal in your hand, the sweat laced across your palms prompting you to grip it tighter before turning it on it’s axis and expelling a gust of air when Calum burst through the door. Immediately, his large hands were cupping your cheeks as you two stumbled back so your legs hit the back of your couch; his thumbs brushing away your stray tears as his face stared determinedly down at yours. “It’s okay,” the brunette comforted, his legs bracketing yours as he held you steady while he worried about the erratic shaking of your limbs.
“Have you been eating enough?” he asked, frowning as he catalogued your sunken eyes and chapped lips. “Have you been drinking enough water?”
You nodded softly, your cheek unconsciously nuzzling into his palms and his grip tightened slightly in response to hold you more securely. Fluttering your eyes shut, you meekly stated, “I’ve been doing okay.”
Calum sighed, muttering, “I guess that makes one of us.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, your warm exhales caressing his hand, the scenario so familiar it made it feel wrong not to press a kiss to the lines across his palms. The brunette sucked in a sharp breath at the action.
“I—“ his voice cracked, and he promptly cleared it. “I haven’t been okay.”
Nodding, you shifted your gaze up to Calum’s, the hue of his irises nearly charcoal in the dim lighting of the room. You noted the purple-grey hues settled beneath his eyes and the scattered acne across his face; something that only ever seemed to make an appearance when he was stressed. You sighed before lightly pushing Calum’s chest backward, enough to create space between the two of you as you knew if you stayed within such close proximity, you might end up doing something you would regret.
“What brought you here?”
Calum shrugged. “When Luke and I were sitting at the bar, our song came on and I needed to talk to you after hearing it.”
Despite the pounding in your head and the uncertainty of what was to come out of whatever discussion lay ahead in the near future between you and Calum, you couldn’t help but laugh.
“You heard Lane Boy and decided to sit next to my apartment door for an hour because of it?”
“What?” Calum drawled before shrugging, his cheeks flushing a pretty pink. “It has a good beat.” He smiled at you laughing, his heart beating erratically. “We were good, yeah?”
The brunette nodded to himself before gently covered your hands with his. “We were so good.”
He stepped forward into your space again, your breaths intermingling as his lips hung suspended just far enough out of your range so that you couldn’t extend your neck and kiss him. “We could still be good, yeah?” Calum asked before he joined your lips in a kiss. Unhurriedly, you two moved together like you’d never been apart; like the separation was forgotten completely and his lips were the only thing you need to survive.
“Yeah,” you answered him breathlessly as you had to pull away for air. “We could still be good.”
“Are you ticklish?” Calum’s voice sounded in your ear before two large hands were suddenly squeezing your torso, your body squirming in reply.
“N-No,” you squeaked, your laughter echoing of the walls and causing the brunette’s smile to grow even bigger as he targeted your sides, shoulders, and armpits. Your boyfriend was showing absolutely no mercy as he continued his assault, his body covering yours as his ass sat on your thighs, keeping you from falling off the couch all together. “Please, s-stop!” you begged, still shrieking with giggles.
“Magic phrase?” he asked, still enjoying your bright smile and beaming face. He moved forward just the slightest bit to maneuver a pillow behind your head so you wouldn’t knock it against anything when his other hand still tickling you prompted a yelp and a knee-jerk reaction from you. Somehow, some way, you nabbed him right in the balls.
“Oh… My god…” Calum wheezed, flopping to the carpeted floor beneath the couch and flushing a vibrant pink, the color visible for miles on his tan cheeks. He moaned and groaned as you caught your breath and blinked away tears when you asked him, timidly, if he was okay.
“I’m dying,” he panted, his hands still cupping his lower region. “I’m literally dying.”
You bit your lip, not knowing necessarily what to do in the situation, especially since the brunette had brought it upon himself. “Do you need ice?”
Calum shook his head, eyes still shut and body tense. “There’s” -gasp- “only one thing that’ll save me,” he coughed, his voice weak and high-pitched.
You hummed in acknowledgement, ready to spring up to go and get antiseptic or a bandage or ice cream or… something when Calum rasped, “A kiss from” -gasp- “the one I love.”
Not being able to stop yourself, you broke into a boisterous laugh. Pouting, Calum raised one hand from his crotch and tapped his lips, exclaiming, “Kiss me, quick!”
Complying, you lowered yourself to the floor and clambered on the ground until your face was level with your boyfriend’s, pressing an exaggerated kiss and pulling away with a pop.
“Are you saved yet?” you asked, propping your head against your arm.
Calum peeped on eye open, “I could use a couple more kisses.” After fulfilling his request, you asked him again, nearly rolling your eyes out of your sockets when the brunette asked, “Maybe, in order to really do the trick and save me, you can kiss the boo-boo to make it better?”
