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Michael thinks that Calum’s bed is his favorite location in the entire house.
The bed itself is nothing special. He has the same mattress as Michael, and it’s not like his room has a better collection of band posters tacked up or smells less like teenage boy or anything like that. Ashton seems to be the same quality of roommate as Luke, so for all intents and purposes Michael should like his bed best because it’s his own space. As much as he loves his friends, sometimes he needs a moment to himself to decompress.
Calum has always been his space, too, though, so relocating to his bed as much as Liz will allow feels a little bit like wrapping himself in a childhood blanket, except with significantly more making out.
They do other stuff on Calum’s bed, too. They watch movies, have pillow fights, play guitar, laze around and talk, and take naps even though Michael is confined to his own bed at night. (Joke’s on Liz, because half the time he falls asleep cuddling Luke instead because they’re all so fucking clingy.) Still, making out with Calum is quickly becoming one of Michael’s favorite recreational activities. He loves how it feels to have Calum pressed against him, the gentle slide of their lips and playful nips that leave his lips swollen and tingly afterwards, and the way that Calum’s hair is the perfect length for him to bury his fingers in. He loves how Calum tastes and the noises that he makes. He loves that they can laugh about it when one of them does something weird, and he loves the way Calum’s lips feel against his neck (he thought getting a hickey might tickle more, but it just feels really fucking good).
They haven’t gone any further, interrupted a few too many times or the kisses naturally dying out first. Michael is glad for it. They haven’t tried talking about sex yet, so he hasn’t had a chance to tell Calum that it’s going to take a second to mentally prepare himself. He absolutely is ready to do whatever will make Calum happy, but he can’t quite picture himself touching his dick yet. It’s probably a good idea for him to figure that out first.
He sighs against Calum’s mouth, boneless against the mattress and enjoying the feel of his hands on Calum’s body, one nestled in his hair and the other sliding up his spine under his shirt. Calum’s skin is always warm, and kissing him and touching him always makes Michael’s cheeks flush and lights a bonfire in his gut. Calum is propped above him, forearms bracketing his head and thigh bumping against Michael’s knee where he has it bent. Sometimes their hips brush together, and Michael represses a jolt every time.
They’re both getting hard, but that doesn’t really mean anything. They’re teenage boys. It doesn’t take that much, as weird as it makes Michael feel sometimes.
Calum shifts, moving one of his hands to Michael’s side. Michael adjusts the angle of the kiss and scratches a little at Calum’s scalp, eliciting one of those soft whines from him that are completely involuntary. It always gives Michael a power rush to know that he’s the one making Calum feel that good.
Calum’s hips brush his again, but he gives up the fight of holding himself up and lets them stay there. The new closeness is nice in some ways, because Calum is a gentle and familiar weight, but there are those little subconscious hip movements that make Michael’s toes curl and his gut clench. Calum’s hand moves under his shirt where it has rucked up a bit, warm and comforting.
Calum does that thing with his tongue that drives Michael absolutely crazy, and it takes him a moment to realize that Calum’s hand is not only under his shirt, but also sneaking under the waistband of his boxers. The panic is immediate and all-encompassing, and Michael is pushing him off and saying “wait, stop, stop ,” before he realizes that he’s broken the kiss.
“What?” Calum asks, breathless. He looks like an absolute vision, eyes blown and lips red and hair mussed. “Are you okay? Mikey?”
Michael can’t exactly say no , because nothing even happened and he thought he would’ve been okay with it even if it did, so he curls away, which is the wrong choice because now Calum is going to know that something is wrong.
“Michael?” And yeah, that’s the tone Calum uses when he’s panicking, so Michael needs to say something before this gets out of hand.
“I don’t want to have sex with you!” he blurts. He closes his eyes and braces himself for… something. Not quite rejection, because Calum is one of his soulmates, but maybe an end to this aspect of them, the head-over-heels-in-love part. Maybe Calum needs someone who wants the same type of satisfaction as him, and Michael is going to go back to being his best friend.
“Oh,” Calum says after a beat. “That’s okay. We don’t have to right--”
“Ever,” Michael says. “I don’t want to have sex with you, ever.”
The silence stretches on for longer this time. Michael holds his breath for as long as he can.
“Oh,” Calum says again, poorly-disguised hurt lacing his words.
“Not you , specifically,” he says. “If I have sex with someone, it’s going to be you. When I have sex with someone, I mean. I know that like, eventually it’ll probably happen, and I thought I’d be fine with it, but…”
“I don’t understand,” Calum says. “Michael, what are you saying?”
He grabs Michael’s shoulder and pulls him onto his back again, forcing Michael to uncurl and expose himself to the world. He sits up and adjusts his shirt, fiddling with the hem. Now that he thinks about it, it’s probably one of Luke’s shirts, because he doesn’t put away his laundry and this one doesn’t sit on Michael in the familiar way his own shirts do.
“Michael?” Calum asks.
Right. Calum. Explaining the sex freakout.
“I’m asexual,” he says. “I don’t, like, feel attraction that way.”
He chances a glance at Calum. His brow is furrowed, cheeks still red and eyes dark.
“But you were hard.”
“I don’t feel attraction . I can still get aroused. I don’t know, it’s weird to think about, so I haven’t been.”
Calum nods slowly.
“You’re not attracted to… anyone? Are you just saying this because you’re straight and trying to let me down easy?”
“No,” Michael says. “What the fuck, Cal? I’ve really never looked at someone and thought that I wanted to fuck them; it’s not personal.”
“Do you still love me?”
“What?” Michael asks. “Of course. I love you more than anything.”
Calum nods.
“Okay,” Calum says. “I love you, you love me, we’re just not going to have sex. Right?”
“I mean--” Michael blinks. He expected a bit more resistance. “We can still have sex. I’m just not ready yet.”
“No, Mikey. I don’t want to do this if you’re not going to like it. I can jerk off a lot, or something.”
“But I want to,” Michael says, and it’s true. He wants to do it at least once, simply to see what all the fuss is about. “Everything else that we’ve done has felt really good, so that probably will, too, but there’s a weird mental block, like a disconnect. I don’t know. I always expect it to feel kind of neutral, not good, so when it does it throws me off, and it’s you so it’s that much more , but I do want to. I like making you feel good, and you make me feel good, too. I want to have sex with you, but… eventually, not now.”
“Are you sure?” Calum asks.
“Yeah,” Michael says. He wrings his hands together, suddenly nervous again. “I don’t know how long it’ll take, though. I thought I’d be ready whenever, but earlier I thought you were going for my underwear and panicked.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t--”
“Hey, no,” Michael says, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “You didn’t know. I didn’t know. It’s fine, but no hands under pants for a while, okay?”
“Of course,” Calum says. He squeezes his hand. Michael gives him a small smile. “Anything you want.”
Michael’s throat closes a little, and he blinks to be sure he’s not about to start crying. He’s never found a four-leaf clover, but somehow he was lucky enough to end up with the best soulmate ever anyway.
“I want a cuddle,” he says. “Also, I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Calum says fondly, reaching up to brush Michael’s fringe out of his eyes, then cup his cheek. “Is there anything else I should know now, though? Can I still touch you everywhere else?”
“ Yes ,” Michael says. “I love it when you touch me, which you could be doing if we were cuddling right now.”
“Patience,” Calum says, but he’s already pulling Michael down and arranging them on the bed. Michael ends up half on top of him, nosing at his neck, and he sighs happily. Calum’s hand runs up and down his spine in a long, soothing line.
“Was the kissing okay?” Calum asks quietly.
“Yeah,” Michael sighs.
“You sure? You don’t have to just say that. We can stop if you don’t like it.”
“Don’t you dare,” he says. “I told you, everything we’ve done so far has felt really fucking good. Kissing you is like, my favorite thing. Let’s keep doing it forever.”
“Alright,” Calum says, then plants one on the top of his head. “I like that idea.”
Michael hums and presses closer. Calum exhales slowly. Michael has been in this situation enough that he knows they’ll both be asleep soon, heartbeats synched up like every other aspect of their lives.
“Are you really okay with it?” Michael asks.
“Of course,” Calum says. “I love you, Michael. I’d give up my right arm for you if I could figure out a way to still play bass.”
“Yeah, if you lost an arm we’d have to replace you, and that’s just too much work.”
“Glad that’s what’s keeping you from sacrificing my arm.”
“No, I also like your arm. I like all of you.”
“Yeah?”
“Every last centimeter.”
“We can never let Luke and Ashton hear us say stuff like this,” Calum says. “They already think we’re gross.”
“They’re just jealous,” Michael snorts. “Who wouldn’t be?”
Calum hums.
“Maybe they should get together,” he says. “Then they wouldn’t be third and fourth wheeling all the time.”
Michael almost brings up Luke’s crush on Ashton, but he was told that in confidence, and if Luke hasn’t told Calum himself by now then there’s probably a reason.
“We need them to stay single to appeal to our audience, remember?” Michael jokes instead. Now that it’s been announced that they’ll be touring with One Direction, Ashton has fallen down a rabbit hole of research on strategies and theories for how to market a boyband. He says it’s because he wants to be sure no one tries stuff like that with them, but Michael thinks they’re too punk-rock for that.
“We’ll see,” Calum says. “I’m sure the ladies will like us for more than our sex appeal.”
He goes back to rubbing Michael’s back, and Michael settles. The mood has shifted enough that Michael feels safe tangling their legs until the two of them are completely intertwined with the type of closeness that Michael craves. If he could, he would have Calum absorb him so they could be one person in moments like this.
They probably have responsibilities that someone will come yell at them to do soon, but he doesn’t really care. He’s in Calum’s bed, and he’s got Calum under him, and it’s a familiar position that he wants to find himself in as much as possible. Calum’s content sigh makes Michael think he’s not the only one with that thought.
Calum’s bed is definitely his favorite place in the house, but maybe it’s not the bed itself. Maybe it’s the boy it belongs to and the arms he constantly finds himself surrounded by.
Nah, that’s too cheesy. If anyone asks, it’s still the bed, even if Michael knows better.