5SOS Preferences

Spending the Night at his House

SPENDING THE NIGHT AT HIS HOUSE 

Calum: “Just stay,” Calum whines. You ignore him and continue to search through the mound of pillows and blankets on his living room floor for your phone. “Come back,” he pleads, catching hold of your hand and attempting to pull you onto the floor. “I have to be home,” you sigh, resisting his pull. “No you don’t,” he argues with a silly smile, “Just stay here.” “Calum, I can’t,” you respond flatly. “Give me one hundred reasons why you can’t stay,” Calum says seriously. “I can’t think of a hundred!” you groan. “Then you don’t have to go,” he reasons, tugging on your arm again so you fall into him. “That reasoning is so flawed,” you laugh, shaking your head. “It works for everything,” he informs you with a confident smile. “Everything?” you ask, raising your eyebrows skeptically. He nods positively and you sit back, considering his idea. “Test it out,” he invites. “Okay,” you say thoughtfully. You sit cross legged facing your boyfriend as you think of a way to test his theory. “Give me one hundred reasons why you like me,” you say, sure he won’t be able to do it. “That’s easy!” Calum laughs, “But it’ll take a while. You might even have to stay the night.” He shrugs casually, but his eyes give away the mischief in his idea. “If you can name a hundred reasons, then I’ll stay the night,” you offer. “Deal,” Calum confirms, shaking your hand and laughing. 

Ashton: “Goodnight,” you whisper before shutting the door to Lauren Irwin’s bedroom. You breathe a sigh of relief now that both of the kids you are babysitting have gone to sleep. You text Mrs. Irwin, assuring her that everything will be fine for the night. You walk down the hall, focused on your phone, and you hear a shout. You look up and see a person on the other end of the hall, making you scream and drop your phone. “What are you doing here?” he asks in a panic. “What are you doing here?” you return. “I live here,” he answers. “Oh!” you respond, your face instantly flushing as you realize who he is, “You’re Ashton!” “Yeah, I’m Ashton,” he responds, “Who are you?” “I’m Y/n, um, I’m babysitting,” you answer weakly, “I don’t think your mom knew you were gonna be home.” “I guess not,” he agrees, “How long are you here?” “I usually just stay over,” you inform him, “But now that you’re here I can go or -” “No!” Ashton responds, cutting you off, “I mean, why don’t you stay? We can hang out or something.” “Yeah, I guess,” you say, a little unsure. “And you’d be getting payed, right?” Ashton reminds you. “True,” you agree, coming close to giving in and staying with the boy you don’t know. “Just stay,” he invites, moving toward you and offering you his hand. “Okay,” you give in, taking his hand in yours. 

Michael: “You cheated!” you shout at your boyfriend, throwing a pillow at his face. “I didn’t technicallycheat!” Michael defends. “You’re such a cheater!” you yell in disbelief. “Is everything okay?” Michael’s mom asks from the doorway to Michael’s room. “No, Mrs. Clifford, it’s not,” you inform her, “Your son cheated.” “Oh, alright,” she laughs, “Could you cheat a little quieter next time? It’s three in the morning.” “Sorry, mom,” Michael sighs, “But I didn’t cheat.” Mrs. Clifford leaves, shaking her head at your childish antics. “I demand a rematch,” you huff. You pick up your remote and start another game of Mario Kart. “How are you winning?” Michael asks in disbelief around lap two. “I’m just better than you,” you respond smugly. “No you’re not,” Michael argues. He rolls over sits on top of you, blocking the TV and crushing you at the same time. “This is considered cheating!” you point out, desperately trying to move your boyfriend off of you. “I don’t think so,” he says thoughtfully. It isn’t until the round is over that he gets off of you. “You just can’t beat me fair and square so you have to cheat,” you say quietly. “Oh, it’s on,” Michael laughs, starting up another game, despite the fact that the sun is already rising through the window.

Luke: “Are you comfortable?” your friend, Luke, asks, observing you in his sweatpants and t-shirt. You nod and take a seat on his bed. “Thanks again for letting me stay over,” you say for the tenth time. “It’s really no big deal,” Luke says with a shrug as he seats himself beside you, “You’d do the same for me.” You agree, and silence falls over Luke’s room. “Well,” he finally says, getting to his feet, “The sheets are freshly washed and I have extra pillows, so the bed is yours.” “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you say instantly, standing to meet him, “I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.” “You’re my guest,” Luke argues, “I want you to be comfortable.” “It’s your house,” you reason, “And it’s enough for you to just let me stay.” “You’re sleeping in the bed,” Luke states firmly. Before you have a chance to respond he scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder. “Luke!” you squeal, “Luke, put me down!” Luke ignores you and unmakes his bed. He drops you onto it with a satisfied smile, and you huff begrudgingly. “Goodnight,” Luke laughs, pulling the covers over you and heading toward the door. “Luke,” you call out quietly. “Yeah?” he says, stopping in the doorway and turning back to you. “You could, well, the bed is pretty big. I mean, can you stay with me?” You look up at him hopefully and bite your lip as you wait nervously for his answer. “Yeah,” Luke responds, clearly a bit confused and taken aback by your request, “Yeah, no problem.” He shuts off the light and you feel the bed move under his weight. You gravitate toward his warm body and are grateful that he envelopes you in his arms. “Goodnight,” you whisper contentedly.