Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8161270.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      5_Seconds_of_Summer_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Michael_Clifford/Calum_Hood, Luke_Hemmings/Ashton_Irwin_(minor)
  Character:
      Michael_Clifford, Calum_Hood, Luke_Hemmings, Ashton_Irwin, Original
      Female_Character(s)_(Minor), The_Hood_Family, Ashley_Frangipane_|_Halsey,
      Mali_Koa_Hood
  Additional Tags:
      Friendship/Love, Friends_to_Lovers, Childhood_Sweethearts, Best_Friends,
      Self-Esteem_Issues, Eating_Disorders, i_know_i_am_so_sorry, Anorexia,
      Bulimia, Body_Dysmorphic_Disorder, :(_kill_me, Bullying, Emotional_Hurt/
      Comfort, Angst, Self-Destruction, Angst_and_Romance, Coming_Out, pure
      gayness_all_around, Secret_Crush, it_wasn't_that_secret_tbh_but, First
      Kiss, Falling_In_Love, Eventual_Smut, Underage_Sex, Blowjobs, Loss_of
      Virginity, Anal_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Comeplay, but_just_a_lil_tiny_bit,
      First_Time, Praise_Kink, Smut, Emotional_Sex, Hospitalization, s/o_to
      ashley_for_being_the_best_nurse_ever, Surgery, Panic_Attacks, just_one
      and_it's_very_vague_and_short_lived, Death, Character_Death, :((,
      Funeral, emotional_breakdowns, this_is_so_fucking_sad_i_hope_you_love
      suffering
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-10-03 Words: 15998
****** you're lucky if your memory remains ******
by lshtons
Summary
     "Calum's frame is so small and frail, Michael feels like he might
     turn to dust if touched. His usually amber brown skin is now pale and
     ghostly, wrapping around his bones like a thin sheet of snow. He
     reminds Michael of the paper flower he gave the boy when they were
     younger; fragile, crumpled, and barely holding himself together."
      
     Calum's gone, and Michael can't forget him even if he tried.
Notes
     i was working on a different fic for months but then i realized how
     much i didn't like the plot anymore??? and then i wrote this in like
     a week straight, it's cute but so fucking sad o my god. why did i do
     this. i hope it's good tho!!!!
     (side note: the regular text is Michael remembering what happened and
     the italicized portions are the actual memories, if that makes any
     sense? don't worry about the bold text it's just doing what italics
     would do if the text wasn't already italicized)
     ((also the title is from Therapy by All Time Low but I'm sure you
     already knew that lmao))
See the end of the work for more notes
Michael remembers the first time Calum smiled at him.
He remembers it happened during his second week of kindergarten. He was in the
arts & crafts corner during activity time, his hands sticky with glue that he
was going to enjoy peeling off later. He was making bouquet of flowers out of
tissue paper and pipe cleaners for his mother's birthday. He remembers turning
around to ask his teacher how much more time he had left because he was nowhere
near done, and he remembers his eyes settling on a small brown boy with dark
raven-hair instead.
Of course Michael had seen this boy before, he was in his class. The boy's name
was Calum T. Hood (Michael thought the 'T' stood for 'turtle', turns out it was
'Thomas'), and he didn't speak to anyone. Calum was by himself on the round
blue rug near their teacher's desk, and he didn't look as sad as he looked
afraid.
Michael didn't want him to be scared, so he took one of the flowers that he did
finish and scurried over to Calum. He joined the raven-haired boy on the rug,
sitting next to him with his legs crossed. Thankfully, Calum didn't move away,
he just looked a bit more terrified than he did two seconds ago. Which Michael
understood, he was a kid with hair that stuck out in all different directions,
skin as pale as snow and 'baby fat' in all of the wrong places.
"Here," Michael says smiling, offering the flower to Calum. "I made it for
you."
Michael was lying, and he knew that was wrong, but it was to make Calum feel
better, so it was okay. He ignored the pang of guilt in his stomach and
pretended that he was just hungry, even if he had eaten lunch only fifteen
minutes ago.
Calum's face lit up at Michael's words and he took the paper flower from the
blonde boy, holding it gently and marveling at the pretty pink and purple
colors it was made of. It wasn't the greatest job, but they were only five
years old and it was for Calum, so the craftsmanship didn't matter much.
"Thank you," Calum says just above a whisper, and his lips break into a smile.
It's wide and genuine and it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners and Michael
thinks it's exactly what a smile should be. He's taken aback, and wants to see
it more often, so he introduces himself.
"You're welcome. I'm Michael!" the blonde chirps. He sticks his hand up and
hesitantly, Calum gives him a high-five. His fingers are tiny and warm and
Michael wants to have their hands together all of the time.
"I-I'm Calum," the brown boy tries, but it comes out sounding frightened and
uninterested. In lieu of a proper introduction, he pushes himself to do
something he never does. "Can we make more flowers together? I wanna make one
for my mommy."
Michael started grinning ear-to-ear then, and he grabbed Calum by his hand and
pulled him over to the table he was working at. Michael remembers feeling like
his stubby, tacky fingers fit perfectly into Calum's, even better than they fit
into his mother's, and he remembers never wanting to let go.
                                       +
Michael remembers the first time he told Calum that he was pretty.
It was September 16th, and they had convinced their parents to take them out
for ice cream to celebrate one year of being best friends. Once they finished
with their cones, they wandered down onto the beach, their parents not too far
behind. They plopped down onto the sand next to each other, coughing at the
kick up they made. The California sun hung brightly in the sky, and it was
pouring down on the two boys. Michael remembers looking at Calum and holding
his breath, literally. Calum was all soft features and smooth brown skin, and
with the sun illuminating everything, Michael swore that the boy next to him
was made of gold.
"You're pretty, Cal." Michael blurts out, but he doesn't regret it. Calum is
the prettiest boy in the world, and Michael thinks that he should know that.
Calum's face flushes pink and he tries to hide behind his small hands, but
Michael can still see his rosy cheeks and bright smile peeking through. "Shut
up, Mikey."
"It's true. You're so pretty. I wish I was pretty like you." Michael says, and
he does regret admitting that last part. It's just that, he's six years old now
and the "baby fat" his mom is always going on about is still around, and he's
practically transparent for God's sake, so he just doesn't feel as good about
himself as he would if he looked like his best friend.
Calum's comes out from behind his hands and his smile falters. "Don't say
that," he chides quietly, lunging over and wrapping his arms around Michael's
neck. "You're beautiful. Like the sunset! Okay?"
"Okay," Michael mumbles, and he thinks Calum can tell that he doesn't mean it
when the brown boy hugs him tighter.
The words "you're beautiful" repeat themselves over and over in his mind, and
he's too young to understand why it makes his heart flutter.
                                       +
Michael remembers his first—and last—date with a girl.
He and Calum were sixth graders then, back at the bottom of the food chain at
their new school, but at least they had each other. They weren't going to be in
the same class at first, which they may have cried about. Their mothers came
down to their school and fought for them to be put together, and they thought
that their moms were the best people in the world for that.
Michael remembers Calum talking to other girls in their class, though. Or, at
least other girls talking to Calum. They would slide up to him in science class
and twirl their curls around their finger as they ask him for help because they
know Calum is good at the subject. Calum would trip over his words and get shy,
and the fact that he never got like that around Michael made the jealousy
burning in the blonde's chest turn to pride.
The pride turned back to jealousy when Michael saw Calum holding Christina
Peters' hand in the halls on a Friday afternoon. (It only happened once, but he
still hates her. Just a little bit.)
Michael didn't know why he felt jealous, he didn't want to know, so he decided
to try and find a girl of his own to take his mind off of Calum. He picked a
girl named Emily with a long German last name that was too hard to pronounce.
She had stringy blonde hair, freckles, and green eyes like himself. Michael
thought she was cute, but she wasn't as pretty as Calum. No one ever was.
Michael remembers seeing Emily at her locker and standing five feet away from
her, trying to work up the nerve to go and talk to her. He rushed over to her
when he realized that she was walking away.
"Um, Emily, wait! I-I wanna, um, ask you something!" Michael croaks, his voice
cracking here and there. Emily stops in her tracks and turns around, though,
and now Michael freezes because her attention is completely on him. "Do you
want to be my girlfriend?"
It's all he manages to say because he's totally panicking, and he doesn't
particularly find it comforting when Emily starts laughing. Hard. "You have to
take me on a date first! One step at a time, Michael Clifford."
Emily thinks he's an idiot, but she still likes him, so that's good, right?
Michael remembers taking Emily on a date, which was just going to get ice cream
and sitting on the beach. It was definitely a bad idea because he and Calum
used to do that a lot when they were little, and Michael felt uncomfortable the
whole time with Emily sitting next to him mumbling about something Michael
couldn't care less about.
Michael remembers when their date was coming to an end, and Emily abruptly
turned to face Michael with bright pink cheeks.
"I think this is when . . . we're supposed to kiss?" Emily says softly, her
cheeks burning as the words leave her mouth.
Michael doesn't expect that, never really planned on doing that, but he
supposes she's right. "Y-yeah, okay."
Michael's first kiss was absolutely awful. Emily leaned forward and pressed her
lips to his, but he didn't kiss her back because it was all wrong. Her mouth
was too wet, she was girl; she wasn't Calum. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
"You didn't kiss me back." Emily sighs, scooting back to her original spot.
Michael wants to apologize, figures that's the right thing to do, but Emily
stands up and heads towards the sidewalk before he can. "I'm going home. You're
bad at this, Michael Clifford."
Emily never talked to him again, and Michael was more relieved by that than
anything.
                                       +
Michael remembers thinking that he might have feelings for Calum the next year.
It started with realizing the little things about Calum, more than he usually
did.
He noticed that Calum had two laughs, one specifically for Michael that was
loud and beautiful and genuine, and he had one for everyone else. That one was
nice, too.
He noticed how full Calum's lips were, not thin and chapped like Michael's. He
would stare at them when the brown boy talked to other people, and every now
and again he wondered how they would feel against his own.
He noticed that he was always the loudest one at Calum's soccer games, cheering
hard and thunderous for the team captain and always catching his attention. It
made his stomach do flips every time Calum would flash him a smile throughout
each game.
"Mikey, you gotta stop cheering so loud. Everyone is always looking at me."
Calum would say timidly after almost every game when he would meet up with the
blonde in the locker room.
"Good, they should be. You're the kind of person people should always be
looking at." Michael would always tell him, and it's true. You're so pretty.
Michael remembers the first time Calum got changed in the locker room instead
of at his house, right in front of him, and he noticed everything. He noticed
how Calum's body glistened with sweat under the bright lights after playing
hard on the field. He noticed how Calum was still lanky, but he saw that his
thighs were starting to fill out his boxers (as well as . . . something else
that he tore his eyes away from as soon it was in his line of sight) when the
raven-haired boy took off his soccer uniform, and fuck, his ass—
Michael remembers his face going so red, he remembers the heat boiling at the
bottom of his stomach. He remembers waiting in the hallway for Calum to finish
changing instead of in the locker room after that day.
                                       +
Michael knew he had feelings for his best friend on their ninth friend-
iversary.
They were sat upstairs in Calum's room, just finished with the large pizza they
ordered. (It had pineapple on top, which Michael hates, but he ordered it
anyway because Calum liked it.)
"Oh, I almost forgot! I got you a present." Calum says suddenly, shooting up
from his spot on the floor and walking over to his dresser.
"Dude, I thought we agreed not to get each other presents for this." Michael
groans, and he feels bad because he didn't get the brown boy anything.
"Then consider this an early birthday present. That's what I bought it for, but
I guess I'm just eager to give it to you." Calum shrugs. He starts to fling
things out of the drawer and onto his bed in search of the gift in question,
and with all of his clothes, Michael sees it. It's the paper flower Michael had
given Calum when they were five.
"You still have that?" Michael gapes, pointing to the poorly made craft on the
boy's bed.
Calum stops digging through his drawer and turns around to see what Michael is
talking about. "Oh, yeah. Sorry, it's kinda crumpled up."
He's right, it's just barely holding itself together at this point, but Michael
doesn't mind. He just can't believe that Calum kept it all of these years.
"Why? I thought you'd thrown it away ages ago."
"I don't know . . . because you gave it to me. It's the reason I have you. Why
would I—I would never throw it away." Calum explains, bashfully almost, his
cheeks rosy and his eyes still lingering on the flower.
It's the raven-haired boy's choice of words that has Michael getting up and
engulfing Calum in a hug, that has his heart beating so fast and hard that he
can hear it, that makes him realize that he likes his best friend so fucking
much. It's scary, but he doesn't care because it's Calum.
He didn't say 'it's the reason we're friends', or 'the reason I started talking
to you'. He said it's the reason he has Michael.
'You have me, you'll always have me. I like you so much.' Michael wants to say,
but he just continues to hug his best friend.
Michael thinks Calum knows when the raven-haired boy forgets about the gift,
wraps his arms around Michael and pulls him closer.
                                       +
Michael remembers when he and Calum met two of the most important people in
their lives during their freshman year of high school.
The first was Luke Hemmings, and Calum was the one to introduce the boy to
Michael. He was lanky like them with an excuse of a fringe, his golden blonde
hair always falling over his piercing blue eyes. He was tanner than Michael at
the time, but still pale in his own right. Luke has always been pretty, but
never like Calum was.
Luke was still attractive nonetheless, though, and Michael felt intimidated to
say the least. The goddamn baby fat (Michael knew he was just a chubby kid with
disproportionate features, but calling it 'baby fat' was comforting) was still
on him everywhere it shouldn't be, he had acne all over his face, and he just
wasn't beautiful like Calum said he was.
Due to his feelings of inadequacy and jealousy because Luke was always with
Calum, considering that they had more classes together, Michael didn't like
Luke much. At least, he pretended not to. He teased the poor boy constantly, as
if he didn't get enough shit from other people, and had a bitter attitude
towards him.
Michael remembers the day Calum stayed home from school due to being sick with
a cold, and he had found Luke sitting by himself in the hallway, crying.
Michael turns the corner and sees Luke sitting in front of his locker with his
knees pulled up to his chest, his faced rested on his thighs.
Now, Michael may be a dick sometimes but he's not Satan, so he makes his way
over to Luke as quickly as he can and drops down beside him.
"Hey, um, are you okay? What's wrong?" Michael asks, and he gasps quietly when
Luke looks up at him. The younger boy is crying, his eyes bloodshot, and
there's a nasty purple bruise on his jawline.
"No one likes me," Luke says bitterly, and when he tries to laugh it just
breaks into a sob. "Why are you asking, anyways? You don't like me either. I
don't know what I did to you, honestly, I don't know why you hate me . . ."
The pang of guilt in Michael's stomach is intense, and he feels like the
biggest asshole on earth. He doesn't hate Luke, he really doesn't, and he
wishes he could take everything back. He didn't know it was this bad.
"I don't hate you, I swear. I just—I guess I'm guilty of being a bit jealous of
you. Calum always talks about you and he's always with you in school, I don't
get to see him as much anymore. And you're so . . . you, and I'm me." Michael
admits, the words running off his tongue before he can decide if he wants to
say them or not. "This is hard for me to talk about. But I don't hate you,
okay? You're like, my second best friend, even if I haven't been treating you
nicely. I'm sorry."
"Thank you. For apologizing, I mean. You're my friend, too. I hope you don't
think I'm trying to take Calum away from you or anything, it's just that he's a
really cool guy and I don't have anyone else. He's still all yours, though."
Luke says. He's still crying a little, but he offers Michael a watery smile.
He's still all yours, though. Michael smiles back, but it fades when he notices
the bruise again. "Seriously, what happened? What's got you like this?"
Luke lets out a sigh that's almost a whimper, and tucks his legs even farther
into his chest. "Like I said, no one likes me. But there are these four guys
especially, they won't—they won't leave me alone. Usually they just call me a
name and keep it moving, but they felt like being extra nasty today, I guess.
They were knocking me around, and they said—th-they kept calling me—I can't
repeat it. I don't wanna talk about this."
Luke starts crying harder, and Michael takes that as his cue to pull the small
boy into a hug. He's soaking the shoulder of Michael's shirt with tears, and
the older boy feels so bad.
"We . . . we have to tell someone, Luke—"
"No!" Luke snaps, wriggling away from Michael. He looks scared. "N-no, I don't
. . . can you please just take me home?"
Michael does as he's asked, finding out that Luke lives in the same
neighborhood as he and Calum. Luke's mother, Liz, thanks Michael probably a
million times when she opens the door to let Luke inside. When she's finished
expressing her gratitude, he goes on his way to Calum's house to check on the
boy and tell him what happened.
Six months later, the trio met Ashton Irwin. Michael wishes it happened
differently, but he doesn't regret meeting one of his best friends.
Michael doesn't expect Calum to come ripping down the hallway as he gets out
the books he needs for his next class from his locker.
"It's Luke." Calum says quickly as soon as he reaches Michael, and the blonde
gets the message.
"Shit," Michael mutters under his breath as he follows Calum back to their
friend.
The scene isn't exactly what he expected—it's worse. They can't even see Luke
properly, they can only hear him begging for the junior-year boys crowded
around him to stop. They're hurting him, Michael realizes, and before he can go
over there to get Luke away from them, a boy with honey-colored curls steps in.
"Guys, what the fuck? Leave him alone, what're you doing?" The curly-haired boy
yells, shoving the other boys away from Luke.
"Hey, Ashton, calm down. We were just—you know what, nevermind. We'll see you
later, alright?" one of the boys say, and they all disperse into the crowd of
teenage students.
"No, you won't." the curly-haired boy—who's name is Ashton—mumbles. He sighs
and crouches down to Luke's level, who's still pressed up against the wall with
his arms crossed protectively in front of his face. "Are you okay, kid?"
Ashton reaches out and touches Luke's arm, and the younger boy flinches
immediately and curls into himself more. "St-stop, don't hurt me. Just leave me
alone, p-please."
"I would never hurt you. They're gone, I promise. I scared them away. l'm gonna
need to take you to the nurse, though, so come on." Ashton says, and it's
enough to coax Luke out of his protective position. He moves his arms away from
his face and sits up, and Michael wouldn't be able to describe what happens
when Luke and the older boy's eyes meet.
They just stare at each other for a good twenty seconds before Luke breaks the
pregnant silence. "I can't walk, though, one of them stepped on my ankle."
Ashton shakes his head and stands, rolling up his sleeves. "Well, I'm just
gonna have to carry you then. Christ, man, you're too pretty to be getting beat
up like this."
Luke's sea-blue eyes go wide and his faces flushes pink at the older boy's
words. "I—um, thank you. Wait, where's—"
Michael and Calum walk over, making their presence known, and Luke looks worse
up close. His arms are littered with bruises, one of his ankles are red and
swollen, and he's got a busted lip. Michael silently thanks whatever higher
power that's out there for Ashton stepping in and helping Luke.
"We're here. I'm sorry about all this, Luke. It's gonna be okay." Calum says in
effort to comfort his best friend.
"Please get him to the nurse. Thank you for saving him from those guys."
Michael turns and says to Ashton.
"No problem," the older boy nods. Instantaneously, he bends down and scoops
Luke up into his arms, and the small boy lets out a shriek because he wasn't
expecting to be swept off of his feet, literally. "Let's go, Lukey. You're
friend is right, you're gonna be just fine."
Luke looks like he's going to pass out when the nickname leaves Ashton's mouth
as the curly-haired boy carries him bridal-style down the hall.
Michael remembers Ashton sitting with them at lunch that day, and never
returning back to his old group of friends. He remembers the older boy fitting
into their group so easily, as if he was there from the start. He remembers
seeing how obviously head-over-heels Luke was for their new best friend, and he
knew the feeling.
                                       +
Michael remembers coming out to his friends a few months after he turned
fifteen. It didn't go anything like he expected it to, to say the least.
They're at Luke's house, watching some sappy romance film on Lifetime while the
rest of the younger boy's family is out at dinner.
The couple in the movie are in bed, kissing each other lazily, and all Michael
can do is imagine himself doing that with a boy—with Calum. He really wishes
someone would change the channel.
Whenever Michael even considers romance, girls are the last thing that come to
mind. He just thinks of boys. Boys with floppy hair, boys with nice builds,
boys with bright smiles, boys who smell good, boys who are funny. He thinks of
Calum.
"I think I'm gay," Michael blurts. He doesn't like how it sounds. It sounds
unsure, like he's dancing around the truth. "I mean, I'm pretty sure I am. Like
ninety-nine percent sure. The other one percent is just in case."
Michael remembers how his friends completely forgot about the movie and all
attention was on him. He remembers wanting to take it back, wanting the world
to swallow him whole. Until Luke spoke up.
"Me too." Luke squeaks out, sotto voce and hesitant, as if he's afraid of how
his friends will react. He doesn't have to worry about Michael, obviously.
Ashton must notice the fear Luke is feeling, because the older boy slips his
hand over Luke's smaller one, and Michael and Calum pretend that they don't
see.
"Sorry the break the chain or whatever, but, um, I'm bisexual. Don't get me
wrong, I like boys a lot, but boobs are really nice, too." Ashton shrugs
nonchalantly, and Michael wonders if it was as easy to admit as he made it
seem.
Luke crinkles his nose like bunny, screwing up his face a bit like he disagrees
with Ashton's statement, and the older boy just emits a loud giggle as he
observes the small boy fondly. Michael wants to tell them to just get married
already, but is he really one to talk?
Realizing that he hasn't said anything yet, all of their eyes land on Calum,
who runs his fingers through his fluffy curls awkwardly.
"I . . . don't wanna put any labels on myself. I just like people." Calum
eventually says, and Michael swears the raven-haired boy looks directly at him
when that last word leaves his mouth.
Luke grabs the remote and finally puts something else on, and nothing changes
between the four of them after that evening. That's all Michael could ask for.
                                       +
Michael remembers when he confessed his feelings to Calum, along with kissing
him for the first time. It was a long night.
Michael remembers sitting next to Calum on the swinging bench in the brown
boy's backyard, anxiously waiting for him to say something.
Calum had texted him and asked him to come over because he had to tell him
something important. All of the possibilities of what the boy would say to him
ran through Michael's mind on his way to Calum's house, and there was one
option he was hoping for.
"So . . . I got into the soccer camp I signed up for. I leave next month."
Calum says flatly, creating sound other than the chirping of crickets. Michael
shoots him a quizzical look. Why's that such a big deal?
"That's great, Cal, but you don't seem that excited?" Michael says as more of a
question than a statement, not understanding the situation.
"I'm gonna be in Brazil. For three months." Calum further explains cautiously,
and now Michael gets it.
Michael won't have Calum around for the whole summer. He can't remember the
last day he spent without Calum in his life, let alone a summer. He doesn't
like the idea of being away from his best friend for so long, he absolutely
hates it.
"That's . . . a really long time." Michael sighs. He slumps back and raises his
head to look at the stars. They remind him of Calum—pretty, bright, and admired
by everyone. "I don't know how I'm gonna deal with you being gone for so long."
"Hey, at least you'll have Luke and Ash to spend time with! It won't be too
bad, Mike, I promise. The time will pass before you know it." Calum tries to
reason, but it's obviously not working by the look on Michael's face. He looks
like he already misses the brown boy and he's sitting right next to him.
"It's not the same."
"How so? What makes me any different from them?"
Michael wasn't expecting that. It wasn't asked out of hostility; Calum's
genuinely curious. Michael doesn't know how to answer him without being
completely honest.
"They just are. They're my best friends, but you . . . you're more than just
that to me." Michael mumbles, and he says it before he can second-guess
himself. "I like you. As in, I have feelings for you."
Calum just sits there, blinking at the blonde boy who just confessed his
feelings to him. He shouldn't have told him, Michael thinks, and before he can
finish stuttering out the string of excuses and apologies neatly lined up in
his throat, Calum is kissing him and everything around them stops.
Emily had nothing on Calum, that's for sure. The brown boy's lips are soft and
full against Michael's, exactly how he dreamed they would be. He's being
careful and slow, maybe just in case Michael doesn't want this, so the blonde
boy kisses him back with everything he's got to let Calum know that he's never
wanted anything this bad.
Calum eventually breaks away to breathe, and he's smiling in a way that
Michael's never seen before. "I have never liked anyone more in my life than I
like you, Mikey. I don't think I've liked anyone else at all, actually."
Michael feels the same way, and he reconnects their lips hoping that Calum
would get the message. He always does.
Michael remembers how they sat on that bench for a solid hour (even though it
felt like time had stopped), their lips locked and tongues exploring each
other's mouths. Michael remembers how Calum's hands felt as they held his face
and rested on his nape. He pressed into the touch, never wanting the intimacy
of the moment to end.
Michael remembers he and Calum stopping to pick Luke up from his house on the
way to school the next day like they always did now, and the youngest boy was
stuck in his thoughts the whole walk there.
Once they reach their school, Calum stops in his tracks, and Luke and Michael
come to a halt as well. "Alright, snap out of it, Luke. What's got your head in
the clouds?" Calum asks.
That gets Luke's attention focused back on reality, and his face goes pink at
Calum's question. His eyes flutter to the ground, and Michael knows that's his
biggest tell when he's hiding something.
"Last night," Luke starts, biting down on his lip to suppress a smile, but his
efforts are useless. "Ashton took me to a gig he was invited to and . . . he
kissed me after the concert. A lot."
Luke spares them whatever details there are, and all Michael and Calum can do
is laugh. Luke doesn't understand, and the two decide to explain what's so
funny when they see that the younger blonde feels like he's being laughed at.
"Calum kissed me last night. It's just funny how all four of us decided not to
hold back our feelings any longer at the same time. Kinda odd, but still
funny." Michael elucidates, and Luke's jaw drops. That's also when he seems to
notice that his two best friends have been holding hands the entire way to
school.
"Well, that's what makes us friends right? We're pretty fucking odd ourselves."
Luke laughs. He's right, and Michael wouldn't want it any other way.
                                       +
Michael remembers when three of the worst months of his life were over, and it
was finally time to pick Calum up from the airport.
He remembers how the wait for Calum's flight to land felt like forever, how
anxious he was to see the boy he cared so much about after spending an entire
summer with him in another continent.
He remembers making out Calum's face in crowd of strangers, he remembers
feeling like his heart was going to combust when they locked eyes.
Michael rips himself out of his seat and starts running straight towards Calum,
wanting the boy in his arms as soon as possible.
Michael feels like he's going to cry when Calum is right in front of him, not
behind a computer screen or on the other end of a phone call. The brown boy
looks taller (and slimmer?) than he did three months ago, but he's just as
fucking pretty.
Calum drops his bags jumps on Michael, wrapping his legs around the pale boy's
torso and immediately connecting their lips. It feels like a scene out of a
movie, Michael holding Calum up by his thighs as he kisses him deeply, and
neither of them care who's watching. People around them start to coo and clap
at their PDA, which is a bit too much, so that's when Calum gets down from his
spot on Michael's hips and opts for just a hug instead.
"I missed you so much." Calum breathes out, clinging to the blonde boy tightly.
"Please, take me home. I . . . I don't like airports."
"Yeah, of course. I missed you more, Cal. If you ever leave me again for that
long, I don't know what I'll do." Michael says softly, and his lips find
Calum's again.
Michael remembers how off Calum seemed; something wasn't right. For one, Calum
had always loved airports as far as he knew. Michael didn't ask about it, he
was just happy to have the boy back in his arms.
Michael remembers Calum giving him a blowjob when they got back home that
night.
He remembers how an emotional make-out session on the couch in Calum's garage
turned into having the raven-haired boy kneeling between his legs.
Calum breaks their kiss and reaches over to turn up the music they have
playing, before sinking to his knees in front of Michael. His face is burning
red, and the blonde boy thinks he knows where this is going.
"Cal?" Michael asks, and he almost moans at the scene laid out in front of him.
Calum's shirtless on his knees, looking up at Michael through his long, dark
eyelashes with his bottom lip between his teeth.
"I . . . I feel bad for leaving you for so long, and I wanna make you feel
good. If you want this, that is. You can say no." Calum tells the pale boy, and
Michael feels like his heart is going to rip out of his chest any second now.
"Fuck, Calum." Michael groans, his aching dick twitching in his tight jeans.
"Yeah, I want this, please. But you don't have to do this for me if you don't
want—"
Michael chokes on the rest of his sentence when Calum's hand lands on his
crotch, and a long, exaggerated sigh drags out of him mouth as the raven-haired
boy starts to palm him.
Calum does that for a couple more seconds before his fingers find their way to
the button of Michael jeans, and he looks up at the blonde for permission to
continue. Michael nods and sucks in a breath when Calum's knuckles bump over
his dick as the boy unclasps his pants. He lifts up his hips for Calum to pull
them off, and the nerves hit him when he realizes that Calum is looking at his
bare thighs, not just what he usually sees tucked away in a pair of black
skinny jeans.
As if Calum can read his mind, and he probably can, he starts to pepper kisses
all over Michael's pale thighs, and the closer he gets to Michael's crotch, the
more the blonde's legs shake.
"You're beautiful, so beautiful." Calum mumbles into the skin of Michael's
right thigh, his hand soothingly stroking his left one. Michael's never felt so
fond of someone in his entire life.
Michael lets out a high pitched whine when he feels Calum's lips ghost over the
arch of his cock, the brown boy mouthing him through his boxers. Which are
already wet with precome that Calum is fucking licking at, and Michael doesn't
think he's going to last very long when the actual blowjob starts.
It doesn't take very long for Michael to discard of his underwear (they agree
that it's okay for him to keep his shirt on), and he feels ridiculously exposed
with his cock out in Calum's face, burning red and flush against his stomach.
Calum licks his lips at the sight as he strokes circles into Michael's hips
with the pads of his thumb. All Time Low is blasting in their ears (Michael
prays that Backseat Serenade doesn't come on shuffle because that would be
painfully ironic), and Michael just wants Calum to do something. He's not
expecting it when he does.
Abruptly, Calum leans forward and drags his tongue from the base of Michael
dick to the tip, gently licking precome off of the slit before he pulls back. A
broken moan rips out of Michael, so loud that he's sure everyone in Europe
heard it. He clasps his hand over his mouth, but Calum moves it away.
"You can be loud if you want, I . . . I like hearing you like this." Calum says
coyly, his face flushed scarlet, and Michael's cock kicks at his words.
Calum refocuses his attention to giving Michael head, and the blonde boy feels
the wind get knocked out of his lungs when his prick is completely in Calum's
mouth. Calum sinks down as much as he can, which isn't far at all, and sucks.
Hard.
Michael whimpers through gritted teeth and his hips involuntarily rock up in
Calum's mouth, nearly choking the boy.
"S-sorry! I'm sorry, a-are you okay, Cal?" Michael sputters frantically,
sitting up straight to see if Calum is okay.
"I'm fine, it's okay." Calum laughs, and he gently pushes Michael back against
the couch. They're definitely not doing this the way they're supposed to, but
it's them, so they continue.
Calum goes back in with what Michael senses as determination. He laps up the
precome dripping down Michael's cock before he wraps his full, swollen lips
around it. Michael knows he's going to lose it soon when the raven-haired boy
starts bobbing his head, filling his mouth up with as much of Michael as he can
before pulling back to the tip again. It's messy, and Calum has to pump
Michael's dick in his hand when his jaw starts to hurt, but it feels so fucking
good.
"I'm—I'm gonna come," Michael announces, enervated and so close to the edge.
Apparently, Calum took that as his cue to run his tongue flatly over Michael's
slit and suck as hard as possible, and the heat that had been building in
Michael's stomach unfurls in seconds flat. He's practically seeing stars when
he comes, and Calum willingly swallows everything his cock shoots out.
Feeling oversensitive, Michael pushes Calum's head away from his prick as he
came down. Calum obliges, sitting back on his heels, and he makes a show of
licking his lips clean. Michael does everything in his power not to moan at the
sight.
"Oh my God, Cal. That felt—it was so good. I don't think I've ever come that
hard. You were amazing." Michael sighs contently, and he makes a mental note of
how Calum preens at the praise. "You didn't have to, um, like, swallow it,
though. It would've been fine if you pulled off."
"No, I, uh, I wanted to." Calum admits, and he can't seem to look Michael in
the eyes when he says it. He's probably embarrassed, and Michael gets down onto
the floor to kiss him if it's any solace. Calum kisses him back, pressing his
body against Michael's, and the blonde realizes how hard he must be.
Michael remembers making him come in two minutes flat just from his hand.
                                       +
Michael remembers when Calum made it official with him.
They were strolling down the empty hallway to the school's exit after Michael
had just given Calum a quick handjob in the janitor's closet, and worries were
dancing around Michael's mind. He wanted to know what he was to Calum, so
badly.
Five months after they first kissed, the only thing that's changed between them
is the intimacy. They kiss and touch and get each other off, but Michael wants
more than that. He wants what they have to be real, he wants Calum.
"Wait," Michael sighs, and the two boys come to a stop in the vacant hall. "I
don't understand."
"Don't understand what, Mike?" Calum asks, looking for Michael's point.
"It's just, we kiss a lot and we get each other off and shit, but you still
treat me like your best friend, not . . . not like your boyfriend. We haven't
even gone out on a proper date yet. Are we not . . . ? Are we just friends with
benefits or something?" Michael elucidates. He has grip on the hem of his
Sleeping With Sirens sweatshirt, nervous for Calum's response. Is he fucking
what they do have up by saying something? He's not trying to lose Calum
completely.
Calum looks surprised at Michael's words and a bit confused, and it takes him a
second to give the blonde an answer. "I didn't know you felt that way, Mikey.
Of course we're boyfriends—you're mine, I'm yours. I thought we just kinda had
an unspoken agreement about it. We can go on dates if you want, I didn't know
you wanted that. Obviously you do, though, why wouldn't you? I'm sorry for
being stupid. We can go out this weekend! Anywhere you want, babe."
You're mine, I'm yours. Michael's lips break into a smile, and he wraps his
arms around Calum—around his boyfriend, pressing his head on the brown boy's
chest. It hurts a bit, actually, because Michael can slightly feel his ribcage,
so he pulls away and tries not to be overt about it.
"You're gonna punch me when I say what I want to do."
"Try me."
"I wanna go on a picnic," Michael says, and it's worse when he actually hears
the words come out of his mouth. He starts blushing hard and tries to hide his
face like Calum always did when they were younger, but the raven-haired boy
brings Michael's hands down from his face and kisses his nose.
"That sounds like a great idea, but, um, no food." Calum says, nervously
almost. Michael raises his eyebrow, bemused. "It's just—you know my mom always
makes big breakfasts on the weekends, I won't be hungry enough for a picnic.
Let's just do something else, okay? Please."
Michael doesn't question it, just agrees and decides on going ice skating
instead.
Michael wishes he started worrying then.
                                       +
Michael remembers when Calum started to change.
They were both freshly sixteen years old when their worlds began to crash
around them.
At first, Michael pretended like he didn't see, maybe for Calum's sake or his
own, but he noticed everything. He noticed that from when Calum left for Brazil
that summer to the one the next year, he had lost so much weight. The squishy
thighs that used to frame Michael's face were now slim and bonier, and his arms
were nearly back to the scrawny size they were when Calum was twelve. Michael
was wondering where his boyfriend was disappearing to.
He noticed how Calum stopped looking in the mirror, as far as Michael knew. He
would just ask the blonde boy if he looked okay, said his mirror broke and
couldn't be bothered to replace it.
"You look beautiful, baby." Michael would always tell him. But you don't look
okay.
Michael doesn't think Calum ever believed him.
He noticed that whenever Calum had free time, he spent it at the gym. Except he
wasn't gaining muscle, he was just losing and losing and losing weight.
He noticed that Calum barely ever ate anymore, always picking at his food and
claiming that he wasn't hungry. Rarely, the boy would eat something, usually
before games when Michael refused to let him out on the field on an empty
stomach.
He noticed that Calum was the one who never wanted to take his shirt off
anymore, which is something Michael never expected from a boy who used to be
more than comfortable with his own nudity.
Michael remembers the time when Luke and Ashton called him on FaceTime at two
in the morning, and he remembers seeing the youngest boy in tears when he
accepted the call.
"I'm s-so worried about Calum. It's like he's j-just disappearing right in
front of our eyes." Luke sobs, and Michael's never been so thankful that he has
Ashton to be there for him.
"What's happened to him, Mike? Something's wrong." Ashton sighs, and maybe
that's all he can do if he wants to be the strongest one out of them all.
"I wish I knew." Michael whispers brittlely, and he ends the call soon after
that before he starts crying, because he's not going stop when he does.
Michael remembers the night when Calum told him that something was wrong, so
wrong.
It's half-past 1am on a school night, and Michael is still wide awake in bed.
Calum lays next to him, his thin arms wrapped tightly around his boyfriend's
waist. It's when Michael is finally starting to drift to sleep that he hears
sniffling.
"Princess?" Michael checks, his voice gruff and weak from lack of use. "What's
wrong?"
Michael reaches beside him and turns his desk lamp on, turning back around to
see the frail boy in his bed weeping quietly under him. Michael swears he can
actually feel his heart break.
"I'm sorry, I d-didn't mean to wake you up. Y-you can go back to sleep, I'm
okay . . ." Calum croaks, his voice hushed. He wipes his eyes with the back of
his hand and gives Michael a watery smile, as if that's going to make the
blonde let this go and return to sleep.
"No, you're not, Cal. I've been watching you deteriorate in front of me for a
year, we all have. You don't smile the way you used to anymore and I haven't
heard your real laugh in months. You look so scared all of the time. You rarely
come out with us as a group anymore, it's like you're n-not here and I'm just
clinging to what's l-left of you. Please, t-tell me what's wrong, baby."
Michael sobs, hot tears rolling off of his cheek and dripping onto Calum's
chest.
"I'm not beautiful like you are, Mikey. I just wanna be b-beautiful." Calum
breathes out, running his fingers through the blonde's messy hair.
No, this isn't right. Calum is so beautiful, the prettiest boy Michael has
every met. He shouldn't feel like he's any less than that, he shouldn't feel
like he's any less than Michael.
"Wh-what? Calum, you're so beautiful, what are you talking about? I've never
seen anyone as beautiful as you. With your smooth brown skin, and pretty
chocolate eyes, and dark curls, and God, your lips. Your body, too, I swear
it's perfect. You're so perfect, princess, don't you know that?" Michael tries
to tell him, and he feels like he's begging him to believe his words.
Calum shakes his head as tears rush down his cheeks, gasping quietly to catch
his breath. "I'm not, Michael, I-I'm not. When I went to Brazil, it was s-so
bad. All the other boys who attended the program, they were fit, but they were
all sm-smaller than me. No soft thighs, no soft tummies, all sharp jawlines and
lean muscular figures. They talked so much shit, c-called me everything they
could think of for three months. 'B-bunda gordo'. 'Menino Americano feio'.
'Paneleiro'. Thank God I'm not awful at soccer, because they would have
destroyed me if I couldn't even play."
Michael's never been this angry in his life. He's so mad, his rage is blinding,
along with the tears clouding his vision. Calum didn't deserve to be treated
like that, it should've been him. He's the one who isn't beautiful, he's the
one who should have nasty things shouted at him.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner? You should've told me so I could've gotten on
the next plane to Brazil and the beat the living shit out of all of those
assholes." Michael fumes, but he realizes that maybe his anger is scaring the
boy under him. "I'm so sorry, baby boy, I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve that.
You're so gorgeous."
"They would've snapped you in half before you could even throw a punch,
Michael." Calum laughs, but it's shaky and forced. "I didn't tell you because I
thought . . . I thought if I could just g-get skinnier I would be better."
"There was nothing wrong with you in the first place! Those guys were just
dicks. You were perfect, you are perfect." Michael sighs.
"You care so much . . . why do you care so much? I'm no good." Calum says under
his breath, frowning. Michael doesn't think his heart will ever hurt as much as
it does right now.
"Because I love you." Michael says before he can stop himself, and he really
means it. "I love you, I love you, I love you. I've always loved you. You're
the best thing that's ever happened to me."
Calum scoots up and surges forward to kiss Michael, holding the pale boy's jaw
with his limp fingers. They kiss each other hard, ignoring the saltwater that
falls to their lips.
"I love you, too, Michael. God, you mean so much to me. I'm sorry I'm not
enough." Calum says after he pulls away, and Michael just can't believe the
words that are coming out of his boyfriend's mouth.
"Stop it, Calum. You are. More than, even. You're gonna be okay. Al-alright,
princess? You're gonna be okay." Michael says, wrapping his arms tightly around
whatever's left of the thin boy.
Michael remembers Calum falling asleep in his arms and not getting any sleep
himself, up all night wondering how he was going to fix all of this.
                                       +
Michael remembers the first time he made love to Calum.
He remembers finding out that his parents would be out of town for the weekend
and knowing that was the perfect time. He was nearly eighteen with bright pink
hair, feeling bigger than his body, and he wanted to show Calum how much he
loved him.
He remembers going completely overboard with the theatrics, buying scented
candles and goddamn roses to scatter on his bed. It was super corny, but he
knew Calum would get a kick out of it and feel fond of the gesture all the
same.
He remembers calling Calum after 10pm that Saturday night because he knew the
boy's parents would be asleep by then. (They never had to worry about Calum's
sister, Mali Koa. She never interfered, only showed them support.) He remembers
choking up and not knowing what to say when Calum answered the phone.
"Hello? Mike? Is everything okay?" Calum asks nervously, Michael having not
said anything since the raven-haired boy picked up the phone.
"Yeah! Everything's fine. I just wanted to ask you to come over. I wanna be
with you." Michael says, hoping that Calum wouldn't say no so he wouldn't have
live with the embarrassment for the rest of his life.
"I'll be there in seven."
Michael remembers standing in his bedroom, biting the stubs he called
fingernails nervously. He just wanted it to go perfectly, or at least their
version of perfect, which was never quite right but always amazing.
"Michael?" Calum called out for him. He let himself in with the spare key that
he was given ages ago, one more thing to deem them inseparable.
Michael takes a deep breath and gives himself a minor mental pep talk before
answering. "I'm in my room, come up!"
As he listens to Calum's light footsteps patter up the stairs, he starts to
second guess himself. What if he laughs at him, thinking this is all a joke,
and goes back home? What if Michael does something wrong and hurts him? What
if—
"Hey, Michael, what's all this . . ." Calum says when he enters the blonde's
bedroom, trailing off as he assesses the situation. He looks around the room,
at the candles and roses and then it hits him. "Oh my God, Mikey."
"I—I want you to know how much I care about you, and make you feel good because
you deserve that, so I thought—I, um, I wanna make love to you, Cal. If you
want that?" Michael says, fumbling over his words as he tries to find the right
ones to say.
"Please." Calum breathes out, and he practically throws himself at Michael,
drinking the pink-haired boy in with a kiss.
Michael remembers how it felt like they kissed for hours, how their clothes
slipped away quickly like the time. He remembers telling Calum that he could
keep his t-shirt on if he wanted to, but the raven-haired boy wanted it off for
the first time in a while. He remembers wanting to cry when he saw how
prominent Calum's ribs were, ready to burst out of his skin. He remembers
silently praying to whatever's out there to help his boyfriend get better.
Michael remembers how messy prepping Calum to be fucked was. He spilt lube on
his bedsheets and it got all over his hand. He remembers rubbing Calum's hip as
he pushed the first finger in because he knew how uncomfortable it would feel
at first. He remembers Calum taking it like a champ, eventually fucking himself
down onto three of Michael's fingers as the pink-haired boy stretched him out.
He remembers the unholy sound Calum made when his fingers hit the brown boy's
prostate, he remembers how Calum almost came from just that.
"I'm gonna come if you keep going, Mike, I'm ready." Calum whines, pushing
Michael's arm away. Michael pulls his fingers out and cringes at how wet and
sticky they are, and since his sheet is already ruined, he wipes them off on
that.
Michael reaches over Calum to pick up the condom off of his nightstand. After
struggling for two minutes to rip it open, he just let's Calum do it for him.
The raven-haired boy giggles at him when he gets it open in one try, and offers
to roll it on for him.
Michael relishes in Calum's touch, his painfully hard cock finally getting some
friction as Calum rolls the condom on and slicks him up with lube. It only
lasts for a couple seconds, but it doesn't matter because Michael is about to
be inside of his boyfriend.
Michael spreads Calum's legs, pushing his knobby knees sideways so he can have
access to Calum's ass. Michael looks down into Calum's eyes to make sure it's
okay for them to continue, and he starts lining himself up with Calum's hole
once the brown boy says yes. Michael presses in gently, slowly filling Calum
up.
"Tell me if it hurts so we can stop," Michael ceases his movement to say when
he sees Calum wincing.
"It burns a little, but it's okay. Keep going." Calum assures him with a faint
smile.
Michael does as the boy says and continues to push in until he bottoms out, and
he stays still until he gets Calum's cue.
"M-move," Calum chokes out, wriggling his hips underneath the pale boy.
Michael pulls out and thrusts back in slowly, just to test the waters, and if
the sound Calum makes is anything to go by, it feels good. They continue like
that: slow, fluid thrusts and loud, broken moans. Eventually, Michael picks up
the pace and Calum damn near screams every time he hits his prostate.
"F-fuck, Michael!" Calum cries out, his back arching upwards. "This is so—you
feel so good."
"You look so hot like this. You're beautiful, princess, so beautiful." Michael
says softly, and Calum hides his blushing face and bright smile behind his
hands like he's a kid again.
Michael leans down and starts a trail of kisses at Calum's neck, still rocking
his hips forward into the smaller boy and reveling in the feeling of their
heated skin making contact. He sucks a bruise onto Calum's collarbone, biting
gently and licking over the deep purple blotch. He continues down Calum's body
doing that same thing, leaving love bites in all the right places and
whispering praises into his skin. Michael never thought it be Calum who needed
his body worshiped. When he can't travel down any further, Michael opts for
just kissing Calum's lips. He licks hotly into Calum's mouth, and the brown boy
moans his name through the kiss. That goes straight to Michael's dick, and he
doesn't think that either of them are going to last much longer.
Michael reverts back to his previous position of kneeling and focuses on
properly fucking Calum. He doesn't keep that up for very long, and his
attention falls on something else. Michael's eyes travel down Calum's body, and
he can't help but frown a bit. Calum's spindly legs are wrapped around
Michael's waist, his chest rising and settling with his rabbit-quick inhales.
The brown boy is all bones and miles of uninterrupted taut skin, and he's still
the prettiest boy Michael's ever seen. He always will be, no matter what he
looks like. Michael wishes Calum would know that.
"Wh-what is it? Why are you crying, babe?" Calum asks, trying to catch his
breath long enough to talk.
He's crying? Michael didn't even realize. He brings two fingers to one of his
cheeks and sure enough, it's wet with tears. Michael wipes them away swiftly
and blinks back the ones threatening to spill out. "I j-just want you to be
okay. Are you gonna be okay, Cal?"
"I love you." Calum says breathily, and it's not an answer to Michael's
question, but he doesn't push it.
Michael feels Calum rocking down on his cock, and he can tell that he's
close—they both are. Michael starts to move faster, the speedier thrusts
bringing them closer to the edge.
"Sh-shit, Mikey, I'm gonna come." Calum heaves, his face flush against the
mattress and his hands fisting up the sheet. Michael hits his prostate one last
time, and it happens so fast it nearly gives the pink-haired boy whiplash.
Michael strokes him through it, wrapping his hand around Calum's cock and
pumping it lazily as it streaks his stomach with pearly white stripes. He lets
go and pulls out of Calum's ass when the smaller boy is too oversensitive to be
touched, his thighs shuddering and asshole clenching. Michael extremely close
himself, and he rolls the condom off of his dick so he can jerk it properly.
"Michael, can—I want you to—when you—" Calum tries, too fucked out to make a
coherent sentence. "When you come . . . c-can you get it on my face? No, n-
nevermind, you must think that's weird, I'm sorry."
That's what does it for Michael. What the raven-haired boy asked of him is so
hot, and it has Michael's climax ripping through him. He moves closer to Calum
and shoots his load onto the brown boy's face as he was requested to. When it
stops and he's coming down from the high, he collapses next Calum, who's busy
blushing hard and licking up as much of the come on his face as he can. Michael
has to look away because his dick is achingly oversensitive, and watching only
makes it worse.
Calum joins him shortly after anyway, flopping down next to the pink-haired
boy. He turns up his nose at the stickiness on his stomach, and Michael helps
him out by rubbing his tummy as clean as possible with his already ruined
boxers.
"Thank you, for all that. My ass hurts, but it was worth it." Calum giggles,
and Michael takes his appearance in. His dark curls are stuck to his forehead
with sweat, his cheeks are rosy as they always are, and his full lips are
curled into a smile. So, so beautiful. "I'll say, though, the set up was a bit
much—roses, Michael, really? You're such a dork."
"Excuse me, I worked very hard on making my bedroom the pinnacle of romance.
You know you loved every bit of it." Michael huffs jokingly, and Calum rolls
his eyes out of endearment.
"I'm just glad the house didn't burn down, that would've been tragic. Blow the
candles out so I can sleep in peace." Calum laughs.
"Don't you want to take a shower first?" Michael asks, but he does as he was
told anyway. The room gets dark as soon as the candles are out, and Michael
can't see Calum's face clearly, but he knows the smaller boy is pouting.
"No, I wanna go to bed. Shower tomorrow." Calum whines, making grabby hands at
Michael. The pink-haired boy shakes his head, chuckling fondly at the childish
gesture. He gets under the blanket and shuffles next to Calum, wrapping his
boyfriend in his arms and pulling him close.
"Cal? I need you to promise me something." Michael whispers, and Calum hums in
response as a cue for him to continue. "Promise me that you're gonna get
better."
"I promise." Calum says faintly, completely falling asleep only seconds later.
Promises are a fool's comfort, and Michael is the biggest fool alive.
                                       +
Michael remembers the night they all found out that Calum was sick. He hates
himself for not having done anything sooner.
He remembers how his family spent Thanksgiving with the Hoods. He remembers
trying to smile and laugh with the people around him, but he was too caught up
by wondering how the hell Calum was going to get through that dinner.
He remembers Calum forcing himself to eat what was on his plate for the sake of
not wanting to cause a scene, Michael assumes. He remembers when Calum
eventually excused himself to go to the bathroom, and he'll never stop feeling
like he should've just followed him.
He remembers asking to be excused as well when ten minutes had passed and Calum
was still in the bathroom. He remembers his heart beating faster than it ever
should, and he remembers it stopping when he opened the bathroom door.
Michael ran through the hallway with his heart in his throat. It takes him a
few seconds to remember which room is the bathroom because he always forgets,
but he knocks as hard as possible when he finds it.
"Calum? Are you okay?" Michael yells through the door.
No answer.
Michael turns the knob just in case the door is unlocked and miraculously, it
is. He swings it open, and his heart drops from his throat down to the pit of
his stomach.
Calum is passed out on the cold tile floor, his frail body sprawled out and
laying still. There's a toothbrush right next to his hand and sure enough,
there's vomit in the sink. Michael's an idiot for letting him come in here.
"No, no, no." Michael whimpers, dropping to his knees. "H-HELP! Call an
ambulance! It's for C-Calum!"
Michael crawls over to where his boyfriend lay, picking up the small boy's
wrist. He's so cold, his arm being warmed for only seconds by Michael's tears
dripping onto it, but he still has a pulse and his heart is still beating,
albeit slowly. Michael starts praying for the first time in awhile.
Mali Koa rushes in the room minutes later, shaking her head with her hand
clapped over her mouth and tears falling from her eyes. She's followed by
paramedics with a stretcher, and Michael scrambles to get up and move out of
their way. They haul Calum's body on it, which doesn't take much effort at all.
One of them pulls it down the hall back to the ambulance truck, and the other
stays back.
"Alright, quick, which one of you is coming in the truck? Mom is coming, Dad is
driving with everyone else." the paramedic says.
"He is." Mali says before Michael can even open his mouth. He looks at her as
if to ask if she's sure, and she nods. "He would want you to be there. Go."
Michael rushes out to the ambulance truck with the paramedic and climbs inside,
joining Calum's mother, Joy, and her seemingly-lifeless son. Michael hasn't
stopped crying since he opened that bathroom door, and he's not sure when he
will.
"He's gonna be okay, sweetie." Joy whispers as the paramedic sticks something
in Calum's wrist. She puts her arm around Michael and pulls him close to her.
"I love him so much." is all Michael can say. He needs Calum to be okay, they
all do.
"I know you do, he loves you, too. I remember when he came home the day you met
and he just went on, and on, and on about you. He hasn't shut up about you
since." Joy giggles, and it's enough to make Michael smile. "And he's not going
to anytime soon. He's going to be okay."
Michael remembers how much he came to hate hospitals that day. He still does.
They've all been sitting in this freezing waiting room for three hours now.
Michael doesn't know if he's shivering from the cold, anxiety, or anger. He
doesn't care either, he just wants Calum.
"Hey, hon. Here, you look cold." Mali says, handing the pink-haired boy a cup
of coffee. She got to the hospital with David and Michael's parents an hour
ago, and Michael appreciates the company.
He accepts it with a thank you, and she takes a seat next to him. She looks
older than she actually is, like the past couple of hours has aged her.
"I wish my horoscope would have warned me that something horrible would happen
to me a week after I turn eighteen." Michael sighs, chasing his words with a
sip of coffee.
"Oh God, don't read those things. Let your future just be, don't read up on it
before it happens." Mali says, screwing up her face at the idea. It makes
Michael giggle slightly before he returns to frowning, and her expression
softens. "You know, I can't help but feel like this is my fault."
"What could you have done? You've been away at college, there's no way you
could've known. It's not your fault." Michael assures her.
"I'm his big sister, I can't help but blame myself." Mali says quietly,
shrugging.
"I'm his boyfriend, I've been watching him fucking deteriorate and didn't
bother to get him actual help. I just—I just thought maybe loving him would be
enough, enough to make him stop whatever he was doing to himself. If anyone is
to blame, it's me." Michael snaps, mainly at himself.
"No, Michael, this isn't your fault. It's neither of ours, okay? Sometimes the
universe decides to bite us in the ass by hurting the ones we love." Mali
sighs. Michael nods and rests his head on her shoulder. He doesn't bother to
finish his coffee, it's already cold.
They sit like that for a bit, going back and forth about nothing important and
whispering solaces. Michael's head whips up every time he hears someone enter
the corridor, and eventually he looks up to see Luke and Ashton walking through
the large blue doors with their hands intertwined.
"Thank God, finally." Michael says breathily, ripping out of his seat and
hurling himself at the two boys. His best friends wrap him up in a hug, Luke
squeezing tight and Ashton pressing kisses into Michael's fairy floss hair.
"How are you?" Ashton asks when they pull out of the hug, adjusting his glasses
on the bridge of his nose.
"I could be better, but I'm alright." Michael shrugs, not really sure how to
answer that question. "You two look awful, though, have you been crying? Your
eyes are so bloodshot."
"Of course we have, dummy, we just got the worst news of our lives. You're not
looking so hot yourself." Luke tries to joke, but his teeth are clenched down
on his bottom lip like he's trying to bite back tears.
"Sorry, stupid question. I'm just really out of it. All I can think about is
Calum." Michael sighs. He sinks back into his seat and his friends join him,
Mali Koa moving over so they can sit on both sides of Michael.
"Have you heard anything yet, or is everyone still waiting?" Ashton asks. He
looks a lot older than he is, too, but Michael doesn't think it's just the
situation that's aged him. He's got so much going on at home, having to carry
the weight of being man of the house, the last thing he needs is one of his
best friends to be in the hospital.
"Still waiting. So far, we've only had a nurse tell us that he's getting taken
care of. Not very useful information, but." Michael says, letting his head fall
back and hit the wall. He needs answers.
"Calum is going to be okay, though, right? He's g-gotta be okay." Luke says,
his voice breaking.
"I don't know, Luke. I've prayed to every single thing you can pray to, asking
for him to be okay. I'm officially the most religious person alive." Michael
says, and it rips a laugh out of Luke. The pink-haired boy smiles.
"He's gonna be fine." Ashton breathes out, and Michael wishes he sounded more
sure.
Michael remembers already knowing what was wrong with Calum, but feeling his
heart shatter anyway when it came out of the doctor's mouth.
It's been six hours of waiting when a doctor finally walks up to them. They're
all cold, tired, and worn out, but their attention focuses on the woman in a
white coat and loud heels.
"I'm Dr. Gutiérrez. Are you all here for Calum Hood?" she asks, her expression
too neutral to read. They let out a cacophony of affirmation, anxious to
finally hear something. "Okay, well, he's awake now, but his body isn't doing
too good. I'm sure you can tell for yourselves, but he's bulimic, and anorexic.
Possibly has BDD—body dysmorphic disorder—but we need to talk to him some more
before we're sure. He's undernourished, dehydrated, and extremely weak. That's
why he passed out like that. Scary, I know, but he's not dying. I don't know if
I would be able to say that if this continued for another month without medical
attention, though. His body really is in bad shape, the kid has truly been
putting it through a lot."
Dr. Gutiérrez gives them a second to digest all of the the information, and
Michael feels like he can't breathe. He already knew, it was obvious, but
hearing it come out of a doctor's mouth as a diagnosis is too much.
Ashton can probably tell that the pink-haired boy isn't taking this well, and
he pulls him into a hug. Michael can't be bothered to hold his tears back at
this point. "I know, Mike, I know. He's—he's gonna get better. They're gonna
help him."
After Dr. Gutiérrez is finished giving Calum's parents the details only they
need to know, she points to the hall she came out of. "He's in room 407. You
can go see him now, if you want. Three at a time, please."
Michael has to restrain himself from running down the corridor to see his
boyfriend. He let's the Hoods go in first, of course, and the thirty minutes
they spend in there feels like an eternity.
Michael pushes off of the wall he's leaning on and turns around when the door
opens to see Calum's family filing out of the hospital room.
"He really wants to see you," David says quietly, giving Michael a reassuring
clap on the back. The three boys enter the room, and Michael damn near flings
himself at Calum.
"Mikey! Luke, Ash." Calum cries out, a smile spreading across his face. "Took
you guys long enough."
"Hi, Cal. We're here, we've been waiting forever to get in, but we're here."
Michael says as he rushes over to the raven-haired boy. He sits in the chair
beside Calum's bed and takes a long look at him, and he holds his breath at how
ill Calum looks.
Calum's frame is so small and frail, Michael feels like he might turn to dust
if touched. His usually amber brown skin is now pale and ghostly, wrapping
around his bones like a thin sheet of snow. He reminds Michael of the paper
flower he gave the boy when they were younger; fragile, crumpled, and barely
holding himself together.
"Do I look like the pinnacle of health right now or what?" Calum tries to joke,
obviously feeling insecure under the observation of his friends.
"Oh, stop it. Sick or not, you're still the prettiest boy I've ever met. Okay?"
Michael sighs, but he's not frustrated, just desperate for the brown boy to
believe him. Calum nods meekly, his cheeks reddening. "Besides, you're gonna
get better and be out of here in no time."
"Yeah, I hope so. I know what's going on with me for the most part, but the
doctor and the nurses keep throwing around terms I don't understand and—am I
going to be okay?" Calum frets.
"'Course you are, Cal. You're gonna get all the care you need and we'll be here
for you the whole time." Ashton says comfortingly, being optimistic as he
always is.
"I miss you guys so much, I know I haven't been the greatest friend lately. I'm
sorry about . . . all of this." Calum mewls.
"You don't have to be sorry, none of this is your fault. We should've helped
you sooner, we should be the ones apologizing." Luke corrects him. Michael
can't believe that the blonde used to be half of Calum's size, and now it's the
other way around.
Calum doesn't look like he agrees with Luke, but he doesn't push it. He turns
his head to face Michael, who's already looking at him and offering him a
smile. "Hi."
"Hi, Calum." Michael chuckles fondly, shaking his head. Already knowing what
the smaller boy wants, he leans down and connects their lips. Michael cups
Calum's jaw with his hand as gently as possible, afraid that the slightest
touch would break him.
"We'll give you guys some space. Me and Ash will obviously be back tomorrow,
Cal. You're gonna be okay, we promise." Luke smiles, linking arms with Ashton
as they slip out of the room. Calum breaks his kiss with Michael to bid them
goodbye, and Michael is taken aback by the fear that crosses the boy's face
when the door clicks shut.
"I didn't want to say this in front of them because Luke would start worrying
and Ashton is stressing enough, but I'm s-scared, Michael. I've done so much to
my body and landed myself in the hospital. And I'm still so ugly. 'M-menino
Americano feio'." Calum spills, fisting up the sheet beneath him.
"God, Cal, you are not, you're beautiful. I'll say it over and over until you
agree with me. And that'll be soon, okay? I know this place is big and
disconcerting, but you'll be out before you even know it." Michael says in an
attempt to ease Calum's worries. It doesn't seem to do much, if the look of
despair on the brown boy's face is a tell. "Alright, move over, you obviously
need cuddles."
"The both of us can't fit, Mikey."
The words go straight to Michael's heart, piercing it with pain. Calum barely
takes up a third of the bed, does he really see himself as any bigger than
that?
Michael doesn't let his thoughts show, just shakes his head in disagreement
with the boy's statement. "Nonsense, there's space. Don't you want my cuddles?"
"Of course I do, I always want you." Calum smiles, Michael humming sweetly in
response.
He slips into the bed beside the raven-haired boy and puts and arm around him.
Calum melts into the touch, tucking his head in Michael's neck and pressing
their bodies as close together as he can. It's warm and comforting, and Michael
spends the rest of his visiting time singing Calum's favorite songs at a
whisper and combing his pale fingers through the smaller boy's dark hair, all
in effort to sooth him. They eventually fall asleep like that, so Michael's
doesn't end up leaving the hospital that night. It makes the first one there
easier for the both of them.
                                       +
Michael remembers when the hospital officially became Calum's second home, and
Michael's too. He was there with Calum every second he could be because the
last thing he wanted was for the boy to feel like he was alone.
He remembers after the night Calum was admitted, they moved him into a new room
on the other side of the building. It was much brighter due to the sunlight the
fled in through the massive windows and the pale yellow walls that Michael
would've found putrid if Calum didn't like it. Calum's parents brought the boy
some of his belongings to make him feel less like he was at a hospital and more
like he was in his own bedroom, which is something he needed considering that
he was going to be there for a bit. He remembers telling Calum not to get too
comfortable anyways, because he would be out of there soon.
He remembers when Calum first started getting treatment, starting with CBT. The
small boy hated waking up at the crack of dawn (eight o' clock wasn't that
early, but he dreaded it nonetheless) to go to therapy, but he never minded
going all that much since his therapist was sweet and always listened more than
he talked. He also had support group at the end of every week, which he
absolutely could not stand.
"Every time I have to sit in that damn room and discuss why I'm destroying
myself with other people doing more of the same, I feel like a victim. I'm not
a fucking victim, Mike. I just need some help." Calum told Michael on a Sunday
when the pink-haired boy asked him if support group was any good that day.
After Michael found out how Calum felt, he managed to get his support group
meetings down to once a month. It took a lot of pestering and pressuring Dr.
Gutiérrez for her to give in, but it was worth it since it was for the sake of
Calum's happiness.
Michael remembers Calum's nurse, a small woman named Ashley with vibrant teal
hair, dark freckles littered on her cheeks, and a smile that always made you
feel safe. They still talk occasionally, but she's never had much time for
proper friendships. Michael's forever grateful for her, though, because she
took such good care of his boy while he was at that hospital, and most
importantly, she always treated Calum like Calum, not like his disoders.
"Okay, babe, it looks like you've gained seven pounds! That's amazing for
someone who's only been here for two months. You keep making progress like you
are now and you should be out of here by June." Ashley informs Calum (and
Michael, of course, who's always right beside the boy), reading whatever she
has on her clipboard. Calum looks happy, albeit tense when he receives the
information and Ashley reassuringly ruffles his curls with her hand. She turns
to leave the room and signals for Michael to come with her, who pecks Calum's
cheek before following the nurse into the hallway.
"What is it, Ashley? Everything is okay with Cal, right?" Michael asks,
automatically worrying. He and Ashley don't talk much outside of anything
involving Calum aside from the times they have lunch in the cafeteria together,
so Michael already has a hunch about what she wants to say.
"Yeah, he's fine. He's doing well, actually. It seems like he really wants to
get better. He has his bad days, of course, you should know because you're
always there to pick him up when he falls. Which is good, support is something
he needs the most of right now. But I don't want all of his progress to be
based on the fact that he wants to get better for you. You're always there when
he has to eat, and I have to know that he's not trying to get better just for
your sake." Ashley explains at length.
"So what are you trying to say?"
"I'm trying to say that you've gotta back off a little, Mike. Give Calum space
to do this for himself. You can be the one holding his hand, but you can't be
his backbone." Ashley elaborates, not bothering to sugarcoat her words. She's
never been one to baby him or Calum and treat them like children about
anything, and as someone who's around their age, who would she be to do that?
Michael definitely finds her to be wise and strong for a twenty-two year old
who plays gigs at pubs in her spare time, though.
Michael takes her seriously, and although she's not asking something easy of
him, he obliges. "Give him space, got it. I can do that."
Michael remembers how difficult it was to distance himself from Calum, even if
it was just a little. He had started to excuse himself during some of Calum's
meals, and wasn't always there when Calum had to write in the book that kept
track of the calories he consumed when he started to have snacks without
Ashley's supervision. He no longer stayed the night as often, just spent a
couple hours with his boyfriend most days. Calum was getting better and better,
though—on his birthday, Ashley told Calum that he had gained seventeen pounds
since he was admitted, and Michael gave him a blowjob as a reward for his
progress and as a gift for his birthday—so Michael wasn't exactly upset with
Ashley's orders.
                                       +
Michael remembers when Calum's behavior changed and he started to give up, only
a month before he was going to be allowed to go home.
Calum had made so much progress before he stopped trying. He needed to go to
therapy for only half an hour instead of the full one and a half, and he was
allowed to stop going to support group all together. He was finally getting
food in his system again, eating larger portions of his breakfast and dinner
and his entire lunch. He even started to casually work out every other Thursday
with the personal trainer at the hospital named Zack to build muscle mass that
he said would help boost his confidence.
Over the course of May, Calum's progress decreased rapidly. He was shutting his
therapist out, a man he never had a problem with. He told Zack that he changed
his mind, that he wanted to just go back to regular exercising. He was picking
at his food again, to the point where he had to go back to having Ashley
supervise all of his meals and encourage him to eat something.
Michael remembers when Calum snapped.
"Calum, you were doing so well. What happened? You were going to be out of this
place next month, and you decided to just give up on getting better? You've
lost weight, babe. So much of your progress has reinstated to how you were when
you first got here." Ashley sighs. She came in with Calum's dinner eight
minutes ago, which he's only eaten a bite of and is refusing to eat anymore.
Calum doesn't answer her, just let's his gaze fall to his lap, either out guilt
or to show that he's ignoring his nurse, Michael can't tell. Ashley lets out a
huff, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Alright, we can talk about this
tomorrow. But please, eat some more of your food. Just two more bites, love."
"I'm not hungry, Ashley, I don't want any." Calum deadpans, refusing to look up
at her.
"I've been trying not to pressure you for the past month, but you—"
"Please stop, I said I don't want to any food."
"—should really eat something! I want you to get better, so many people do, and
you should want that for yourself, too."
"I said I don't want to eat! I've been in here for six fucking months and I'm
still not good enough! That's what happened, okay? I was 'doing well' but then
I realized that I was going back. Going b-back to the kid that got treated like
absolute shit for an entire summer because he was u-ugly. I don't—I don't want
to go back . . ." Calum admits, beginning to sob before he can even finish
explaining himself. He pulls his slim blanket-covered legs up to his chest and
tucks his face beneath his arms.
Ashley sighs, shaking her head in what appears to be more than disappointment.
She deals with patients like this all of the time, but Calum's well-being seems
to mean more to her than it should, maybe. Michael isn't surprised; it's easy
to find a place in your heart for the raven-haired boy.
"I'll be back in twenty." Ashley says, pushing off from her position against
the wall. She looks at Michael, who's currently sat in shock. "Talk to him,
yeah? And just . . . do what you do best. Show him some love."
She leaves Michael with a smile that probably fades away as soon as the door
clicks shut. He refocuses his attention on the crying boy in the bed beside
him, and he wonders how he has enough heart left for it to shatter the way it
does.
"Why are you giving up on yourself, princess? The boy you're afraid of turning
back into—he's beautiful. You've always been beautiful, despite the words of
those fucking idiots, and I thought you were coming to learn that." Michael
sighs. He reaches to hold Calum's hand, but the raven-haired boy sits up and
pulls away from his touch.
"Since when do you care, considering you're not even around n-nearly as much as
you used to be. Luke and Ashton are here more than you are." Calum spits,
definitely exaggerating the truth a bit.
"What? Of course I care, Cal! I haven't been here with you as much because
Ashley told me to give you space. She figured that your efforts to get better
might've been just because of me, and that you needed to do this for yourself.
Do you really think I'd want to be away from you?" Michael explains, taken
aback by his boyfriend's words, but he knows that Calum is just hurt.
"M-maybe I was just trying to get better for you, Mikey. The way your face lit
up when you would hear good things about me from Ashley . . . I didn't want to
take that away from you. But I can't do it anymore, I c-can't go back . . ."
Calum says breathily, tears still falling from his eyes. "I felt like you were
abandoning me, because who wants to be with a sick boy anyways?"
Michael's crying himself now, unable to believe what he's hearing. The fact
that Calum would even consider that is heartbreaking enough on it's own, but
the fact that he felt it was true was so much worse.
"I would never abandon you, Cal. I love you and that's something I've always
meant. I'm not going anywhere, o-okay? I'm here for as long as you'll have me,
princess." Michael assures the smaller boy. Calum nods his head and lunges
forward at Michael, throwing his arms around the pale boy's neck and bringing
their lips together. The kiss is needy on both ends, with no lust behind it,
just love.
"I love you, Mikey, so much." Calum breaks the kiss slightly to say, his lips
still ghosting over Michael's and his fingers tangled in the boy's freshly-dyed
orange hair.
"I love you, too, baby. I need you to get better, and not for me, but for you.
Please get better?" Michael whispers, and he doesn't care if he sounds like
he's begging because quite frankly, he is.
Calum's answer is the opposite of what it was the last time Michael asked him
that. "I can't make any promises."
                                       +
Michael remembers waking up to what he now considers the worst phone call he's
ever gotten, only two weeks after Calum had snapped on he and Ashley.
"Hello?" Michael says groggily, answering a phone call from Mali Koa. "Is
everything okay?"
"Calum, it's Calum. He—he's got something called a 'bezoar' in his stomach, I
believe that's what his nurse said. I'm not sure, but whatever it is, it's bad.
I'm at the hospital with my parents, please get down here as soon as you can,
Mike." Mali tells him, and Michael feels the air being sucked out of his lungs
as he tries to take in the information.
"Shit, I'm on my way. I'll be there in fifteen, okay? I'm coming." Michael says
quickly, scrambling out of his bed, now wide awake with his mind on getting to
Calum.
Michael remembers how fast he got to that hospital, and thanking the heavens
for the fact that he never got pulled over for running at least four red
lights.
He remembers how the elevator ride up to the sixth floor felt like hours, he
remembers running to Calum's room to see the Hoods and Ashley standing outside
of it, along with Luke and Ashton who Michael called before he left his house.
They both lived closer to the hospital than he did at the time, and by the
looks on their faces, they were already told what was wrong.
"What's wrong with Calum?" Michael asks no one in particular, skipping hellos
and cutting to the chase.
"Hi, Michael." Ashley greets him with a faint smile, and she's not offended,
just obviously on edge like everyone else. "Listen, I'm going to be
straightforward, okay? Since he was developing an appetite from eating, Calum's
body was actually feeling hungry when he stopped again, and to suppress that,
he started eating cotton. He ripped his comforter open and soaked the stuffing
in juice. He has an intestinal obstruction, which means he can't digest food
and liquid. So the bit of his breakfast that he did eat this morning couldn't
break down. He was in a lot of pain, and he told me what he's been up to."
"Okay," Michael breathes, understanding Ashley words but having a hard time
accepting them. "What's this 'bezoar' thing Mali told me about over the phone?"
Ashley giggles softly at Michael's mispronunciation of the word. "Cotton
doesn't break down in your digestive system, so the stuffing he swallowed mixed
with whatever food was in his stomach and created a concretion, known as a
bezoar. He's prepping for surgery to get it removed. As long as all goes well,
he's gonna be okay, love."
Surgery. The word plays itself over and over in Michael's head until he
realizes that his boyfriend is going under the knife and there's a possibility
that all will not go well, and he can't fucking breathe. "Oh my God."
Ashton instantly senses the panic that coursing through Michael, and pulls him
away from the herd of people to calm him down.
"Hey, take deep breaths, Mike, just like that. It's okay, Calum is gonna be
okay. He's gonna make it out of that surgery and you're gonna receive him with
open arms. He's going to be okay, I promise." Ashton soothes him, and the panic
eventually leaves his body, but he's nowhere near calm. Michael stopped
listening to promises a long time ago.
                                       –
Michael remembers when his entire world came crashing down. He feels like he's
still suffocating under the rubble.
Michael remembers sitting in that waiting room for hours, refusing to move
until he knew that Calum was okay. He remembers how distraught Joy looked, and
even David's usually stoic expression softened to a look of worry and
disparity. He remembers Mali holding him, running her fingers through his
orange hair and soothingly scraping her nails against his scalp. He remembers
feeling her tears wet his hair, and he ended up being the one holding her while
she wept quietly on his shoulder. He remembers Ashton and Luke worrying so much
about their best friend, Luke's bright blue eyes turned dull and clouded under
his golden curls.
Michael remembers when Ashley returned with a surgeon, showing him to Calum's
family and friends. He remembers her taking a seat next to him, wanting to know
the outcome of the surgery just as much as everyone else in that waiting room.
"The surgery was going well, until Calum began to have a seizure. He had a
bacterial infection in his stomach from the concretion, and his body went into
toxic shock. He was already weak from how malnourished he was; the poor kid
couldn't handle the seizure. I'm so sorry, but he didn't make it." the surgeon
tells them at length, and Michael thinks his own heart stops beating.
He can just barely hear Joy's string of 'No!' over the cacophony of sobbing and
the white nose blaring in his head, and that's exactly how he feels. No. No,
this isn't right, Calum isn't fucking dead, he's going to waltz out of that
goddamn surgery room any second now.
Except he is dead, the love of his life isn't breathing anymore and Michael
can't even see straight. He doesn't notice that's he's crying until it burns,
the hot tears streaming down his pale cheeks. He feels arms wrap around him,
and he knows they're Luke's, and he flings himself into the blonde's embrace.
He's full-on sobbing now, his body shuddering against Luke's. Calum is gone.
The paper flower couldn't hold itself together anymore.
                                       –
Michael tries not to remember much of Calum's funeral, but he can't help it.
Anything involving Calum is unforgettable.
He remembers how dark that day was (every day since Calum passed, if he's being
honest), like a grey film was cast over the world due to Calum's absence.
He remembers driving to the funeral home with his parents, the Hoods, and his
best friends—minus one. He remembers seeing the epitome of sadness on their
faces.
He remembers arriving to the funeral to see Calum's family members, his former
teammates, so many of their friends. Ashley was there, of course, her hair
slicked back and eyes shielded by a veil. She looked like a character out of an
old film, but the pain she felt was as real as everyone else's.
He remembers clinging onto every word that came out of the pastor's mouth
during the service, nodding in agreement with everything despite how
unreligious he is. He knows that if Calum was next to him, he would've laughed
and called him out for being full of shit. Except Calum wasn't next to him, he
was in the casket five feet away from him.
He remembers how Calum's family never stopped crying, he remembers how loudly
Luke sobbed, he remembers feeling like he didn't have a single tear left in
him, being all dried out from crying for a week and a half straight.
He remembers that being completely untrue, because as soon as Mali went up to
read the eulogy she wrote for her little brother, Michael cried like he never
planned on stopping. He never did.
He can't remember what possessed him to go up to the open casket, but he did.
He remembers not being prepared for his emotions to come surging through him
like a strike of lighting when he saw his baby, lifeless and cold. He lay
there, eyes swept shut and mouth parted as if he still had something to say.
Even dead, Calum was still the prettiest boy he's ever fucking seen.
He remembers running out of the funeral home, his hand clenched between his
teeth to keep himself from screaming. He remembers the endless stream of tears
dripping off of his face and onto the sidewalk, and he could've made a puddle
if he stood there long enough. He remembers stumbling to the curb and throwing
up, he remembers Ashton running out seconds later and catching him before he
let himself collapse onto the pavement. He remembers the curly-haired boy
holding him tight as they both sobbed, but nothing was ever enough to ease
Michael's pain, even just a little.
                                       –
Michael remembers the first morning he realized that he would never wake up to
Calum's sleepy smile and full lips against his own ever again. He remembers
that being a harder morning than the others because he was actually dealing
with the fact that Calum is gone. He remembers crying until his body shook and
his eyes ached, he remembers wishing Calum was there to calm him down.
                                       –
Michael remembers the first time he went to the cemetery to visit Calum's
grave. He didn't stay for long, knowing that he couldn't handle it. He
remembers crouching down next to the plot of land the love of his life was
buried under, clutching the item in his hand.
"I can't believe it's been an entire year. I miss you, princess, so much."
Michael whispers, and he hopes Calum gets the message like he always did.
He remembers dropping the bouquet of paper flowers in his hand in front of
Calum's tombstone, the crumpled one he made for the boy all those years ago
standing out proudly.
End Notes
     this is easily the saddest thing i've ever written wow i'm gonna go
     choke now!!! but let me know what you think and of course, you're
     welcome to come say hi on tumblr xx <3
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