It's Sunday night, and Michael's still asking about Calum writing songs. Calum tries to steer away from the subject, embarrassed that he had even written them in the first place. Michael straddles him, a smile on his face as he links his arms around Calum's neck.
"I bet they're real nice, too."
The Maori shakes his head. "They're shitty."
"Come on, dove; play one for me." he begs.
"No." Calum laughs, turning and placing him on the bed.
"Well, tell me where you're hiding the notebook and I'll read it for myself."
The olive-skinned boy leans down and kisses him quickly. "No."
Michael groans, keeping his legs wrapped around Calum's waist so he can't leave. His legs are surprisingly strong considering he doesn't do much exercise. Calum topples onto him completely, laughing into his neck. The door opens, and they both shoot up to see who it is.
Karen raises her eyebrows, "No wonder you two spend so much time in here."
"M-Mum, um, hey." Michael says, still frozen in his position under Calum. "We weren't gonna – Calum fell on top of me."
"Sure." Karen says, not believing her son for a second. "You two have been shooting sex eyes across the table for months; don't even bother."
Michael is absolutely mortified. Once his Mum shuts his door, he hides his face in Calum's chest. He blushes so hard that he feels like he's on fire, and the Maori starts to laugh. "Aw, babe."
Calum gets off of him and sits up, walking over to the computer parts that are all over Michael's desk. "Motherboard," he mumbles. "It's such an interesting philosophy."
"Jesus Christ, don't get all deep on me." Michael laughs, but quickly stops once Calum actually looks interested in the parts in his hands. "Well, they're just parts to make a machine. I haven't really thought about it, to be honest." He gets off the bed and walks over to stand next to him. "I guess, it's just everything serves its purpose."
Calum nods. "Yeah." He says, but his head's somewhere else.
"Like, it's a bit like the world. Without fat kids like me, Dominos would be shut down. I give them probably ten percent of their fortune just off of pepperoni pizzas." Michael says light-heartedly, a hand on his stomach as if he can feel it welling up like a balloon.
"You're not fat, Michael." Calum mumbles, looking at him.
"You say that now, but when my metabolism slows down, I'll be as big as – "
"Has anyone ever told you to shut up?" He puts his hands on Michael's hips, pulling him close so they can feel each other's breaths. "I love your stomach." He says against Michael's skin, his fingertips reaching the edge of his boyfriend's shirt.
"Not here, dove," Michael whispers, "not now."
Calum nods, and backs away. "I have to go, but I love you."
Michael nods. "Love you too."
Calum leaves, and Todd comes in, laying down on his half-brother's bed. "Hey, baldy," he says, "did Karen give you a proper talking to?"
"Not yet."
"What are you gonna do next week?" Todd asks.
Michael looks over his shoulder, confused. "Next week?"
"When they say yes to Calum."
Michael puts a hand through his hair, looking at parts of the motherboard. "I don't know. Wish him luck?"
