spotlight :: malum

: seventy six :

Michael's birthday rolls around faster than Calum would like to admit. All of their free time gave them little rendezvous to go on and tons of relaxing that he truly did need. Even though he still picks up his songbook now and then, it doesn't feel forced. He's no longer being rushed to create music, he gets to stand back and ask himself if this is actually a good song before putting pen to paper.

Michael isn't awake yet, Calum's slaving in the kitchen to try and make one single waffle for him since he already has toast and fruit ready. He wants to make this perfect. Absolutely, positively perfect. It's all he can strive for at this point.

He's been reaching his limit with the waffle maker, just about ready to toss it outside and settle for cereal. His thumb got burned in the process and he finally made a waffle that surpasses the four burnt ones prior. He lets it land onto the platter and drizzles syrup on top, dolloping some whipped cream on it as well.

His phone is buzzing by the minute and he really wishes he could take back the whole 'I can manage Michael's entire birthday don't worry' with Ashton because he should've just let his best friend take it away.

He carries the tray towards their room, having to use his elbow to nudge the door open. A sleeping Michael is under the covers, right arm sprawled across where Calum usually sleeps, one leg bent at the knee. His cheek is smushed against the pillow. He's snoring, but Calum doesn't mind.

"Hey," The maori leans down with one hand to squeeze the boy's palm, "Michael," He trails off, the redhead stirs around to try and get comfy. "Good morning."

It's not even morning technically, it's one in the afternoon. But his words get those piercing green eyes to blink open and meet his warm brown ones. He holds out the tray of his breakfast and gets the red haired boy to curve his lips up into a sleepy grin.

"Happy birthday." He announces it softly, still too tired himself to fully function, his hands help the tray land on the boy's lap and he joins him back under the covers. The both of them only in their underwear.

"You didn't have to. . ." Michael has that inner moment of gratitude and then selfishness. His stomach growls nonetheless. It really does smell delicious.

Calum leans down and kisses just below his ear, "Mm, but I wanted to." Is hummed out of his lips at the same time he's peppering his neck in chaste kisses to wake him up some more.

"Got big plans for today, baby." The maori grins and finds himself easing up with a lot loss stress already.

"You know I don't like parties." Michael senses where this is going and he's quick to post a picture of what Calum did for him on his story online, then turns to him with a look of desperation. "Nothing big or crazy, Cal."

"It's not like that. I've just got a few things put together, today's your day." He lets his thumb trail down to the porcelain skin exposed on his sides, tracing circles into his hips. Noticing the way his chest rises and falls in slow, heavy breaths.

The redhead eats some watermelon and smiles at the sound of that. His day. He can get used to that. Even if it is a little unusual for him to do things like this, he does deserves a little me-time. Too much of doing things for others, why not have the roles reverse for a bit to see what it's like being wined and dined by his friends.

There's a few sighs escaping them out of bliss as he takes his time eating his well put together meal, the coffee to wash it all down makes him hum. He even is so kind as to feed Calum a few bites of the waffle, taking funny videos of him reviewing his own food like a professional chef. He likes slow mornings, he wishes everyday could be like this, with leisurely activities and quiet laughter.