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When Calum first met Michael at school when they were both lame eight year olds, he knew immediately, that this kid with a fringe too long for his face, was going to be sticking round for a very long time.
Maybe it was because Michael threw a paper ball at the guy that always seemed to have a bone to pick with Calum that day, and it wasn't as if Michael knew him well at that point of time. Maybe it was because Michael happened to be wearing the same Teenage Ninja Mutant Turtles T-Shirt Calum was that day. Maybe it was a little bit of both.
Turns out, Michael wasn't as cool as he'd thought. He was geeky, dorky, messy and moody most of the time. Calum knows he's only stuck around for so long because he's Michael and Michael's probably the only person who would embrace Calum in all his quirky, weird glory.
The only thing Calum liked more than adventure was one with Michael, and Michael would get off his lazy couch where he had been sat on for hours just to accompany Calum to the new theme park. Michael wouldn't have done that just for anyone, and Calum knows this. Calum considers it love.
They'd discuss girls and video games, superhero dreams. Calum remembers fondly of their little embarrassing secrets, like how they had once build a giant fort and pretended to be superheroes in their imaginary, made up world. It made them feel powerful and at that point, it felt as if they really could take on just about the world. They always had the other, and Calum considers that love too.
*
When Calum was fifteen, things were good, with Michael still beside him.
"What's your biggest fear?" Calum asked suddenly, when they were both laid beside the other one night.
Michael answered simply, pausing only to think momentarily. "Bugs."
Calum sniggered only slightly, because Michael was that one actual softie who acted tough on the outside. Michael liked that Calum sees through this facade easily, and he barely even seemed surprised.
"Don't laugh you ass." Michael said, whacking him lightly, "What's yours then?"
Calum turns silent before saying softly, "You."
"I don't know what I'd do without you and it scares me how much you affect me."
Michael didn't say anything. He didn't need to. All Michael had to do was cuddle up to Calum, for Calum to know that he understood, and he felt the same.
There's a certain sort of beauty in fear. Fear could cripple you, tear you apart. Yet, fear was an emotion that brought people together, formed union, bonds. Calum thinks it's because everyone has fears. Everyone. And people focus too much on their differences to realise they were really all just the same people with different skins. Scared of, vulnerable to the inevitabilities of life.
And as they fell asleep, bodies close, Calum realized then that if the hero in every story had to have that one tragic flaw that led to his eventual downfall, his would be Michael.
(Calum thinks that his tragic flaw wasn't all that tragic, and he kinda wanted it around, even if it would kill him.)
*
When Calum was sixteen and was starting to learn that it was possible to, well, have a dick in him, he knew he wanted to try it. Calum wasn't gay or anything he swore, he was merely curious and looking for something new to try.
Of course, Calum being Calum hadn't thought of something smarter, hadn't thought of the consequences, when he came onto his best friend, Michael, that night, and demanded for him to take his ass virginity.
A lot of things happened that night. Like Michael obliging to his request a little too happily, how they'd fucked three times in Calum's bedroom and the near confessions of feelings that threatened to slip out of the mouths of both foolish teenage boys.
Of course, they'd both brushed that aside easily. It was just a bit too much testosterone coursing through their veins, just them both a tad bit too caught up in the feeling of euphoria when their bodies touched in a heated, fervent manner.
After all, Michael's was Calum's best friend. It didn't matter if they bickered or yelled at each other on bad days, they'd always be back together. It was how things worked, how things were with the two of them. Calum and Michael, Michael and Calum, and they were both too afraid to fuck up what they had with the other.
(Calum was straight, anyway.)
*
It was awkward at first, that morning when they woke up in Calum's bed, arms wrapped around the other a little too tight for it to have just been nothing. They'd both moved on from that though, because time wasn't going to stop just because two best friends decided that they wanted to do the frickle frackle together for fun.
So they never spoke of that night, about how there were too many words left unsaid, too many feelings they needed to express but didn't. It was just too much a risk.
Calum never regretted it though. He couldn't, not when he remembered Michael's smile when he kissed him, slow and intimate that last time.
*
When Calum was seventeen, puberty had already somewhat done its job. Calum was a lot more masculine, handsome, attractive. So many things had changed since. He had joined a band, Michael by his side, along with two other boys and they had become successful, too damn quickly. They played stadiums now, to crowds of screaming girls who thought they knew them well enough to love them.
It wasn't just Calum and Michael now. It was Calum, Michael, Luke, Ashton, and the entire world now.
(Calum kinda wishes it was just still the two of them, in their made up superhero world.)
*
Being famous had its obvious perks though, Calum found out. Any girl on the street would gladly hop on your dick, and as way too hormonal teenage boys, they obviously weren't about to waste that.
It probably wasn't quite the shock of the century then, that having girls over every night became a regular occurrence.
It's not as if Calum thinks about Michael sometimes, when his dick was stuck in some chick's private parts. He completely doesn't think about how a different girl was moaning Michael's name every other night. Doesn't pause to acknowledge that little seedling of jealousy, knowing that someone so undeserving was going to have the blissful privilege of seeing Michael looking so bloody beautiful. Doesn't even want to consider how Michael wasn't thinking about him like he was.
For it's not like he was being a complete angel himself. He was probably worse than Michael. At least Michael had the decency to befriend or be on decent terms with his one night stands at different cities. Calum never bothered. He fucked with gullible girls' feelings and left them alone in their beds by the next morning. He just couldn't bring himself to care.
Just quick fucks in hopes they'd forget about yesterday's sin, that's all they'd ever be.
(Calum doesn't want to forget, but he figures it's for the best.)
*
So yeah, maybe that night two years hadn't gone completely forgotten. They still fucked occasionally, when one of them felt so damn lonely on some nights and just needed to be close to their best friend. And every single time, Calum would be the one to walk out on a peacefully sleeping Michael.
Sometimes, they'd both blame it on alcohol, when they just didn't want to admit to the other, they knew exactly what they were doing when they leaned in for yet another reckless, half-sober kiss.
It would start of so damn rough each time, before fading of into a certain sort of tenderness. Every touch, every kiss, every look burned in his memory, never fading. Impulsive rashness never felt more wrong, more ill thought out, more doomed.
Yet, when tanned skin met pale, and brown eyes met green, everything was alright again, just for a moment.
(Calum thinks it's sad how he could have any girl he wanted, but a boy with crazy dyed hair was who he did.)
*
When Calum was eighteen, Michael and Calum weren't best friends anymore.
All this time, they had been so damn afraid of futures that had not yet been made, planned or created, they lost track of where they were going, ending it all with a fleeting crash.
Calum believed that everything in life had to come to an end eventually, whether good or bad or somewhere in between. He just didn't believe that this good thing he had, would end so soon, this quick.
Slowly, never ending conversations about anything under the sky, had turned to occasional superficial banter. They let it happened, watched it all burn down in cold, hard flames. Nobody else would have guessed, it all just seemed the same from the surface.
But Calum knew, and he knew that Michael did too, that every cute selfie they took together, were for the fans, so that they wouldn't know how it had all changed.
(Calum thinks its maybe also so the two of them could still pretend things were the same.)
Soon, he didn't feel much anymore. It's almost as if he had become accustomed to everything, the numbness he forced upon himself whenever he had lingering eye contact with Michael.
Quiet conversations, wild adventures from a very long time ago, were still fresh in his memory. Sometimes Calum wishes so much that he could turn back time, wished every night, they were still next to the other.
There was nearly no tension between the two of them now, and Calum wished there was, craved for it. Just a little sign that there was still something between them, that they weren't just as close as strangers.
(Calum wanted so hard to run away from it, numb it all out, and maybe he was beginning to succeed.)
*
Everything came to breaking point eventually, at the worst possible time.
That night they were playing to a crowd of 50 thousand, one of the biggest so far.
Euphoria had overcome him, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he sang and played his heart out to the crowd, just like every other night. Yeah things had changed, but his love for music and performing definitely hadn't. If anything, it only grew with every stage and every arena they played.
"Today we have a very special song for all y'all here tonight!" Ashton shouted, drawing loud cheers from crowd.
"So our friends The Cab, have kindly allowed us to cover this song of theirs. It's called Temporary Bliss. Sing along if you know the words!" Luke said through the microphone, flashing a smile at the blinding lights.
Calum felt the nerves begin to sink it. He and Michael had been given the lead parts of the song, and Calum swears Luke and Ashton knew something was going on. He wishes they didn't.
As the music began to play, Calum sang into the microphone, voice shaky.
"I come over, quarter past two. Love in my eyes, blinded by you, just to get a taste of heaven. I'm on my knees."
He glanced at Michael, who was staring at him so intently. He watched as Michael sang into the mic, eyes never leaving Calum's.
"I can't help it, I'm addicted. But I can't stand the pain inflicted in the morning. You're not holding on to me."
Calum could feel everything inside him crumble, the numbness he had built inside of him fading, exposing the pain visible through his chest.
"Cause I can't keep sleeping in your bed, if you keep messing with my head. Before I slip under your sheets, can you give me something please?"
They were practically screaming the lyrics to the other, yearn and desperation filling their voices. Calum was pretty sure he had heard Michael's voice crack at the end and he closed his eyes for a moment to take it all in.
They were at opposite ends of the stage, yet it felt as if they were the only ones in the room. Both voices were strong, before faltering to a vulnerable whisper.
"I can't keep touchin' you like this, if it's just temporary bliss. Just temporary bliss."
(Calum prayed to every god up there, that no camera caught the tear in his eye threatening to slip.)
*
After the show, Ashton took Calum to a corner. "Intense performance there, eh?", Ashton said, his grin a little too bright.
Not wanting to have to deal with anyone at that time, Calum managed to rudely respond, hoping to end the conversation once and for all, "Yeah, you enjoyed that, didn't you?"
Ashton looked a slight bit taken back and Calum felt guilt slip into his system just the tiniest bit as he began to apologize, "Sorry-"
"Look, Calum. I've got no idea what's going on with you and Michael, but fix it. Luke and I don't want both of your fucking around to mess the band up, okay?" Ashton said, voice suddenly firm.
If he only knew how literal that statement was, Calum laughed bitterly to himself.
"Okay." was the only thing Calum could respond with.
*
Turns out, Calum didn't need that extra push from Ashton. Somethings, both good or bad, came naturally.
Calum remembers it so clear, how they had been sharing rooms that night at the hotel.
"Hey", Michael said weakly, as he walked into the room, face filled with so much dread, you would have thought Calum and him hated each other.
"Hey you." came the half hearted response.
That was all. Calum swears he saw Michael opening his mouth to speak several times, before turning away, angry expression evident.
Calum didn't stop blatantly staring at Michael though. His hair was a striking red now, and Calum still remembers the exact feel of it against his calloused hands. Michael was still as beautiful as he had always been, skin pale, lips still holding its natural tint of pink Calum still remembers kissing. If Calum wanted to, he could probably lie to himself that it was just yesterday when his lips were on his.
He also remembers Ashton's words. "Fix it."
Before he could stop himself, he found himself walking up to Michael. Michael looked at him, as he choked out a tired, "What do you even want anymore?"
Thing is, Calum didn't know. He didn't know what he was doing either, when he stupidly let his heart control his actions. So he did what he knew best, pushing Michael against the wall, claiming possession of the lips that were never his to touch.
For just that mere minute, it felt as if the past, the present, the future - time in general - had blurred into one. Calum never felt more at home with his lips on Michael's, and he prayed so hard that Michael felt the same.
It was then, that he felt Michael push him away, along with a sharp pain in his heart.
"No", Michael whispered, eyes hard.
Calum reaches out to grab Michael's arms out of pure impulse, but Michael only responded with a rough shrug, pushing him away. "Don't touch me." Michael yelled out, eyes flashing.
"You can't keep doing that! You can't keep walking out on me, not after kissing me like that. I'm not going to let you do that again." Michael said, vulnerability and weakness clear in his voice.
Michael was close to Calum again, hands shaking slightly as he reached out to touch the side of Calum's face. He got quiet before speaking softly, as if Calum was a fragile. "Who are you, Calum Hood? And why do I like you so damn much?"
And just like that, for the first time ever, Michael walked out on Calum, leaving him feeling more fucked then he ever did in the eighteen years of his life.
Calum spent the next hour wrecking their hotel room as tears poured from his face, before he laid on the corner of the bed. His numb, tired out brain registered the sound of the door opening, and later on, the faint feeling of someone holding his hand hesitantly, soft yet tight.
(Or perhaps it was all Calum's wishful thinking.)
*
They got better after that incident, Calum supposes. They talked, ignored the underlying tension and urges to kiss the other. It nearly felt as though nothing had happened between them.
Although Calum never seemed to move on from that almost with Michael, Michael dated a few girls after, and it seemed as though he had fell out of love with Calum, or moved on, like they liked to say.
ButCalum didn't believe that someone could simply fall out of love. He didn't quite think it was possible for genuine love, one that was clearly so strong, so real, so true, could ever really disappear.
Calum guesses that your feelings for someone could only fade and get buried deep within your heart, darkened and dulled, till you could convince yourself that it no longer was there. But yet, no amount of light brought by the next person you thought you could love, would be able to awaken the sinking feeling of darkness you felt when you told yourself you didn't want to love the first person anymore.
That's what he selfishly held on to, the hope that he would be the cause of the permanent dull ache at the back of Michael's heart. He hoped he'd have at least that place left for him, that no one could take.
For when Calum was twenty five, the band had reached its end, and he had witnessed the wedding of the man he had realized he loved too late, to a beautiful and wonderful lady he wished he'd hate, but couldn't.
He was one of the best men.
(To strangers who didn't know, Calum was simply teary-eyed at what should be the happiest day of his best friend's life. They wouldn't ever know, and Calum figures, it didn't matter. There wasn't really much of a story to tell, anyway.)
*
Not every story was written with the intention of a happy ending, and Calum supposes that it's because humans are drawn to emotion, and humans are drawn also to the heartache and the idea of healing and the idea of hope, that every supposed sad ending could turn around for the better.
What had meant to be a happy tale of friendship, and how love sometimes, are found in the simplest of places, hadn't really worked out the way Calum and Michael had wanted it to.
But that's what considers Calum the best thing about love, it triumphs above the complexity of human concepts, like time. Love was more than that.
And Calum figures perhaps that could be the case for them, time not being much of a factor, when Michael stood outside his door one night, nearly ten years after his wedding, and robbed him of his rationality with an urgent kiss.
"Can we start all over again, Calum? I know this is sudden and it doesn't make any fucking sense but will you have me? Even if it took me so damn long?" Michael nervously says, his body pressed so tight to Calum, their bodies molded into one. Calum can feel his heart beating so fast, and he knows Michael can feels his too.
"I probably should be asking more questions, like what about your wife, but fuck me for being a sinner, I don't care. Yeah, I wanna, like start all over." Calum stumbles across his words, but he supposes his words aren't meant to be smooth. Not when they're so fucked up, and the entire thing was fucked up.
"She asked me to get here. She understands, think she's got someone else she's meant to be with too. Guess we're not the only messed up ones." Michael grinned, expression grim yet hopeful.
Calum pecked the side of Michael's eye lovingly. "So yeah, Mike, it's been like nearly two decades since I've been maddeningly in love with you and it took me too long for admit that to myself and, wow that turned out a giant waste of time. Yeah I don't know how I lived not being with you this entire time and I know this is so sappy but I don't remember a day I didn't think about wanting to hold your hand, share a house, watch crappy horror movies, eat tortilla chips till we both die from high blood pressure, have great sex."
"I think I once went a week without thinking about you, but yeah besides that, same here." Michael joked a little, biting Calum's neck at the spot he knew Calum was weak at.
"So do you wanna, ya know, do the thing, be together? Fuck marriage, that's just too complicated for us." Michael continued, smirking at the moan that escaped Calum's lips.
"Yeah, okay, okay. Can we get to the 'great sex' part of this thing first, though?" Calum asks as he carried Michael and begun up the stairs, boner quickly growing in size.
"You horny bastard, I was trying to be romantic here." Michael pointed an accusing finger at Calum, whilst still focusing on his neck, kissing, licking and biting, definitely leaving a hickey embarrassingly huge.
"I can feel your boner too, so shut up or you won't be getting any." Calum childishly declares, as he began palming Michael through his tight jeans.
And Calum guesses that everything that happened next was so very Michael and Calum, with their imperfect, ill thought out movements that somehow managed to complement the other.
They both laughed a lot, at the clattered teeth and the struggling to remove tight-fitting pants. They hadn't done this in a long, long time, and yet, nothing was awkward, nothing felt out of place.
Calum's brain registers Michael saying "I love you." for the first time. He says it back. There was no fighting it. No restrain or doubt in his mind, only certainty and aching adoration for the man who laid under him.
"Michael?" Calum said, as they laid cuddled on the bed, taking in the scent of the other person they'd craved for, for so long.
"Yeah, Cal?" Michael asks sleepily, nose nuzzling into Calum's neck.
"You're not gonna like, leave tomorrow right?" Calum asked, voice soft.
Michael didn't reply. Instead. he lightly punched Calum, before grabbing Calum's hand and placing it close to his chest.
"Hear that, Cal? That beats for you, always has, always will."
"That was so corny." Calum says, suppressing a manly giggle.
"Only for you." Michael laughed, before kissing Calum, soft and slow.
So yeah, perhaps Michael and Calum didn't have a straightforward and easy road in their story, but Calum figures he likes how it ended.
After all, Michael's was Calum's best friend. It didn't matter if they bickered or yelled at each other on bad days or even had marriages that kept them apart, they'd always be back together. It was how things worked, how things were with the two of them. Calum and Michael, Michael and Calum, but this time, they'd take bigger risks.
Some stories ended abruptly, Calum thinks his and Michael's wouldn't ever end, even as they die and their bodies rot, cold and long gone.
Calum was sure of this, never been more certain when he felt Michael reach out once more to hold his hand.
This time it definitely wasn't a fantasy.
(Calum thinks he could get used to this reality.)