#im serious about the atl lyric prompts though that is lowkey a good idea

[clumsyclifford]

you did so good with favorite place, how about trouble is for malum? ik that's not on the prompt list but all that I know is I just can't say no to you, funny how things never change...

i literally read this ask and then hit myself in the face several times before sitting in silent awe because this prompt. this prompt. your MIND. holy fuck. im going to make a prompt list of all time low lyrics to write fics to but just know (THIS IS A PSA!) that at any time i will be accepting prompts in the form of atl songs/lyrics god you have APPEALED TO MY WEAKNESS MEGHNA HNFKVLMFVJ;DVM

-

“Come to my room?” Calum offers, and it’s not a trap so much as an invitation to something Michael should refuse, but Michael takes one look at Calum and he’s already gone.

“Okay,” he says.

Luke and Ashton shrug to each other and then bid their adieus, with the promise that they’ll be back before four a.m., smashed, no doubt. Michael follows after Calum as they take the stairs to the second floor, where his and Calum’s hotel rooms are side-by-side. It’s so unbelievably rare that they get to have their own rooms, and Michael doesn’t know why he’s not taking full advantage of the solitude.

(Okay, he knows. He fucking knows.)

Calum’s room looks exactly like Michael’s, but reversed. Michael takes a seat on the bed, even though he knows that’s basically implicating himself. But Calum grins at him, not exactly victorious but too knowing for Michael’s liking, and sits next to him.

“Your room’s backwards,” Michael observes, terrified that the room will fall silent and Michael will look over and make the mistake he keeps making.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Literally,” Michael says. “My room looks like this, but, like, everything on the opposite side.”

“Fascinating,” Calum says. “We should look into the furnishing of hotels.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah,” Calum says. “So are you, though.”

“I’ve done nothing but be delightful since I got here.”

“I mean in general.”

“I’m lovely!”

“You shouted at me for playing your electric before you got to soundcheck two nights ago.”

“Well, you shouldn’t touch my stuff. You’re not lead guitarist, are you?”

Calum scoffs, although he sounds amused. “I almost was.”

And isn’t that a throwback. “Fuck,” Michael says. “You were.” It’s funny; in all the times he’s brought up in interviews and 5SOS tour videos that he was almost the drummer of the band, he’d failed to remember that as a result, Calum had almost been the lead guitarist. 

“Good times,” Calum says thoughtfully. “The pre-Ashton era.” 

Michael laughs. “Don’t shit-talk Ash while he’s not here to defend himself.”

“The pre-Michael-on-lead-guitar era,” Calum rectifies. He nudges at Michael’s ankle with his own foot, and Michael’s heart rate spikes. “You’d have probably been a good drummer, you know.”

Michael feels hot, and hopes his face doesn’t reflect it, although that’s a pipe dream. “What do you mean?”

“Dunno,” Calum says, shrugging. “You just learn fast. And anyway, drummers are hot.”

“Are you calling Ashton hot?”

“I’m calling you hot,” Calum says, point-blank.

Michael’s heart stops. “Cal,” he says.

Calum turns his head, and against his own better judgement Michael does too. They’re practically nose to nose; another couple centimetres and they’ll be kissing. Michael tries to suppress that thought, but it surfaces unbidden and won’t go away.

“Yes?” Calum says calmly.

Michael tries to say stop it, or we shouldn’t, or we already tried this and it doesn’t work, but nothing will come out.

He knows Calum thinks he’s hot. Calum knows Michael thinks Calum is hot. But they did try it, and they keep trying it, and Michael keeps hurting when he realizes it’s never going to be more than this — a kiss here and there, a quickie before a show.

The worst part is that it feels wrong without it. He and Calum have been blurring the lines since they knew how to draw them. It shouldn’t feel normal, to kiss Calum, but it would feel worse now not to. And Michael tries to kid himself that he’s trying to get rid of that habit, but he’s not. He won’t. It’s part of him. Calum is a part of him, and Michael is cursed to never say no.

Calum keeps waiting, unmoving, probably waiting for Michael to say something or do something — Calum pushes him to the edge but never over it.

“Cal,” Michael says again, trying to make it sound commanding, defensive, but it comes out more like a plea, desperate and needy. Calum bridges the centimetres and puts his lips on Michael’s, slowly, like he’s giving Michael a chance to move away, which is a fucking joke. Michael wouldn’t move away if his life depended on it.

As soon as they kiss, Michael feels like his heart has burst, or maybe his entire chest. He leans back as Calum leans over him, gentle at first. Calum enjoys pretending that he’s willing to give up control of the kiss, but Michael knows Calum too well, and he doesn’t want to be in control of the kiss, anyway; he just wants to be part of it, and keep doing it, and not break it. Ever. But just to call Calum’s bluff he traces his tongue against Calum’s lower lip, and Calum immediately retaliates, pushing his tongue between Michael’s teeth and skimming the roof of his mouth. Michael’s grip on Calum tightens. He wishes he didn’t enjoy kissing Calum this much. It would make it much easier to give it up.

It feels impossible, monumental to try and end this, but Michael does his level best; he puts a hand against Calum’s chest and pushes, and though he doesn’t push hard, Calum gets the message and pulls away.

“Okay?” Calum asks. Michael almost melts at that, because for all that he acts like a predator chasing prey, Calum would rather die than go any further than Michael is willing.

“No,” Michael says. “I mean, yes — but no. Calum. Do you — do you see the problem here?”

Calum blinks. “No.”

“This is unsustainable,” Michael says. “You can’t — we can’t just — just be friends who make out.”

Calum frowns. “Why not?”

“It’s not fair.”

“Fair to whom?”

“To me,” Michael says flatly. His heart is starting to ache again, and he doesn’t want to be cross with Calum, because he’d been just as enthusiastic a participant of the making out as Calum had been, but still.

“I don’t understand,” Calum says carefully.

Michael sighs. “I don’t want to be your fuckbuddy, Cal. You know I like you, and this is fun, and all, but it’s not — I can’t move on if you’re always…” Kissing me. Looking at me. Here.

“Oh,” Calum says. “You like me?”

“Is this your idea of a joke?”

“No.” Calum looks puzzled. “I like you too, you know.”

“I’m glad my best friend of seven years likes me.”

“Romantically,” Calum clarifies. “Like, I’m in love with you.”

If Michael weren’t sitting down, he’d have fallen.

“What?”

“Is that how you like me?”

Michael blanches. “Of course I’m in love with you. Wait, what the fuck? You’re in love with me? Then what the fuck are we doing?”

“I thought you were humoring me,” Calum says.

“I thought you were humoring me,” Michael returns. He feels shaky, and the next second steady. “Since when are you in love with me?”

“Uh,” Calum says, “since I fucking kissed you for the first time? When we were sixteen? Are you joking?”

Michael laughs out loud, and leans forward to rest his head against Calum’s shoulder. “Holy shit,” he says. “This whole time I thought you were just being nice.” 

“You’re fucking stupid,” Calum says. “I did repeatedly call you hot, right? I’ve been flirting with you since we started the band, right? I’m not just imagining that? Hey, since fucking when are you in love with me?”

“Since you kissed me when we were sixteen,” Michael says, unable to contain the giggles. “I hate you. I hate us. Will you marry me? No. Wait. Will you be my boyfriend? Best friend with benefits? I don’t even know what we are anymore.”

“Yes,” Calum says. “To all of those questions, but I’m not marrying you unless you give me a proper proposal, what the fuck. I’m a gentleman.”

“Noted,” Michael says, giddy. He picks his head up and says, “I’m going to kiss you now. But like, because I’m in love with you.”

“I’ll allow it,” Calum says. And then he kisses Michael, and Michael has no trouble letting him, because Michael could never say no to Calum, and now he never has to.