#i was soooo tempted to do buddie but i think im gonna tryyyyy to stick to 5sos on here bc i did really miss writing for them

[4thbrighteststar]

ooooo can i have #9 for the spotify wrapped drabble thing? any pairing/fandom you want -hazel

HIIIII HAZEEELLLLL #9 is there it goes maisie peters. here we go @allsassnoclass. prompt me here

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Calum bursts out of the club, doors swinging behind him dramatically, Michael on his heels. The cool night air hits him in the face like a hammer. It's raining so hard, it's pounding on the pavement like a drum. They stare at each other for a moment, breathing heavy, eyes wide.

“That…” Michael pants, trailing off.

“No. No, yeah, I know,” Calum agrees.

“That was fucking awesome!” Michael shrieks, grabbing Calum by the shoulders, shaking him hard.

Calum actually giggles, giddy with it. “I can't believe I just did that.”

“I told you. I fucking told you!” Michael crows.

They weren't going to go out tonight - well, Calum wasn't, intent on drowning his sorrows in a lot of beer and his own third album - but then Michael got word of this stupid, like, dance competition, except it was literally just Just Dance on a shitty projector. Michael wasn't going to let Calum mourn his dramatic breakup on his own, so he insisted on getting him all dressed up and forcing him out of the house. He talked the night up, and Calum will never turn down a night with his best friend, no matter how down he's feeling.

So they sat in this shitty bar in downtown LA, but then one of the servers - this girl with short, fluffy hair like Calum's, wearing a name tag that had probably read something that started with an “H” ages ago, but has since become illegible - recognized them. Calum saw it the second understanding dawned in her eyes, but she didn't say anything, didn't ask for an autograph, just handed Calum his fries and walked through the back doors of the kitchen.

And then Youngblood started playing.

Michael had pushed Calum in front of the projector, onto the makeshift stage, and Calum - never too shy for an audience - had danced for all he was worth.

Some poor schmuck on the social media team will have to scrub the internet tomorrow.

“Do it again,” Michael exclaimed gleefully, pushing Calum into the rain. “That thing with your hips.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Calum flushes.

“Come on, the thing -” Michael pauses, attempting to demonstrate. “The little wiggle.”

“Oh, you mean this thing?” Calum pauses on the sidewalk, shaking his ass at Michael.

Michael howls with laughter. “I need to record that. Stop, I gotta record it.”

“Snooze you lose,” Calum grins, taking off down the sidewalk again. Michael gives chase, and they slow their pace at the end of the block, letting the rain and the cars drown their silence out.

Michael falls into step next to him. “Still thinking about her?”

Calum pauses. “About who?”

Michael grins. “That's what I like to hear.”