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(Summary: You and Michael have a complicated relationship of stolen nights, hurried texts and a whirlwind of unexplainable feelings.
Warnings? Smuuuuuut.
Word Count: 3.6K)

The news that 5 Seconds of Summer are coming back to your city fills you with joy for two reasons. One, you love the band and you feel a special connection with their music. Two, you're looking forward to hooking up with a certain member like you do every time they visit.
You'd met at a club during their first visit, a few one night stands later and you'd swapped numbers with Michael as well as securing his promise that he'd always call if he was back. And now he is.
The moment the update accounts leaked they'd landed you checked your phone. Nothing. You'd be lying if you said you weren't disappointed because although Michael does bring excellent sex and you're guaranteed to have a good time when you're with him, there's something that's stuck since the last time he was here.
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You ended up cuddling for the night. Cuddling. And when you woke the following morning his clothes were still in a heap by the door. When you went to investigate you found him frying up some eggs in nothing but his scrappy pair of boxers. He'd greeted you with a warm kiss, so different to the night's before, and stayed as you both enjoyed breakfast together.
It wasn't like you didn't know anything about him, you were a fan before you met him. And anyway, you'd had a few conversations yelling at each other on the dance floor, but this was different. He was making an active effort in getting to know you when every rule book stated he had the right to walk out and leave. You were only a groupie after all.
Your phone buzzes and you instantly grab it, groaning as you see it's just Y/F/N asking about a dress she'd left at yours. Figuring it couldn't harm you to go outside for once, you dig through the mound of clothes spread across your bedroom floor and eventually pull it out. You brush down the crumpled thing and shove it in a plastic bag before shrugging on your coat and leaving your apartment.
The chilling afternoon air feels like daggers against your bare legs and you begin to regret the bold decision to wear a skirt, even though you shaved especially. After arriving to Y/F/N's house and discovering she's out, you spend an interesting ten minutes trying to jam it in her post box. Eventually you give up and leave the dress on her doorstep, praying no one takes it before she gets back from wherever she is.
During the brisk walk back you decide to nip into a coffee shop and find something to eat. The long queue doesn't phase you as you slip in behind fifteen people and start scrolling through your twitter feed. Somehow you find yourself on Michael's account, scrolling through the tweets and retweets and occasionally laughing at his humour.
You're almost at the front of the queue when you get his text. Simple is Michael's style. Short and sweet, straight to the point. This is why this particular text has you questioning if it was even him sending it....Hey Y/N, I'm back in town. I was wondering if you wanted to go for dinner? I can get you at 8pm and drop you back whenever. I've missed you, babe ;-)
If not for the winky face at the end you would've thought someone like Luke had taken his phone. You quickly reply saying you'd love to before ordering a latte and slice of cake to go. No need to hang around in the coffee shop when you only have three hours to get ready for a surprise dinner. Date. Whatever it is, you're not sure. Probably just Michael's way for getting better sex, wooing you into submission. If that's his aim you can tell him now, it's going to work.
You collect your snacks and speed walk the rest of the way home, glugging back the latte and finishing the cake in record time. Immediately you get in the shower and wash your hair, shaving all the spots that you'd missed the night before. After blow drying and making your hair presentable, you fix your makeup and slip into a new red dress that highlights your best assets perfectly. Seeing as you don't know where you're dining you make sure the dress is a combination of revealing yet classy, and pair it with a gold statement necklace.
You reply to a few tweets and watch an episode of Friends as you wait for the Australian. You're not even surprised when he turns up at your doorstep ten minutes late. However you are surprised when you look through the peep hole to discover he's holding a bunch of red roses.
"Mikey!" The moment the door's open you barrel into his arms, basking in the sweet warmth radiating from him. "Hi Y/N!" He balances the beautiful flowers and hugs you close to his chest.
You both stay there longer than you should have.

FUCK ME // Michael Clifford smut \\Where stories live. Discover now