pretty boy ; malum

11 | THE DAYS

Michael crosses the days off of the calendar, each one getting closer and closer to the day of tour and the end of the contract. Calum, blocks away, does the same thing, but pretends he doesn't notice as he gets busy with training and ignores the piles of missed calls from Michael. The first week of radio silence was hard for Calum, but he finds it easier when he thinks Michael will be better off.

He goes through the motions in the ring, the crowd encouraging him as his opponent finally gives up, the floor covered in blood. The announcer declares him the winner, and Calum shows off to the crowd, making them cheer louder than before. It's there he notices Michael sitting in the front row next to his coach with a disappointed look on his face.

Calum stumbles, feeling as though he's been scolded from metres away as the crowd files out and he begins to grabs the towel out of the bucket and wash the blood off of his face. The fresh water stains red. He sits, collecting his thoughts before seeing Michael march over. He looks tired, but still fresh-faced with a sense of frustration painted over his face, arms crossed as he stands in front of the boxer. "We need to talk," he snaps, tone making Calum feel like he's been caught sneaking out.

He looks up, "Yeah, yeah, give me a second, babe." He says, pretending to ignore how much he is infuriating the pale man as he rinses out his towel.

Michael snatches the towel, throwing it on the ground. "Now, Calum." He orders, grabbing the Maori's thumb to pull him away from Calum's trainers and coach. They go to the locker room, Michael pacing in anger, despite wanting to hit him a thousand times. "Why have you been ignoring me?"

Calum leans against the lockers, looking at the bruises on his abdomen, "I've been busy. So have you."

Michael stops, glaring at him. It's harsh - something Calum feels in his chest. "Not busy enough to call you every day."

Calum rolls his eyes, brushing him off as he starts undressing to take a shower, grabbing a towel from the inside of his locker. "Just getting used to not hearing from you. It's not like you'll do this on tour." Michael opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted. "Besides," Calum starts, walking to the showers as he carelessly says, "you'll find someone prettier than me."

Michael follows, grabbing him by the arm to turn him around. He just wants Calum to look at him. Does he even know that he's here? "Where are you getting this from?"

Calum throws his arm away, his act starting to drop as he too starts to frustrated. "I'm not the type of guy you want to date, Michael!" He exclaims. "Look at me," he says, gesturing to his bruised torso and face, "you want this? It took me three months to admit that I even liked you. I'd never give you what you want. I'm scared of all this, and you know it!"

As soon as the words leave his lips, he tries his best to swallow them back up, but fails miserably. Michael heard every word. Calum feels his face start to go red. He just said he was scared. Fuck. Calum Hood does not admit feelings - especially fear. Fears show weakness.

Frustration melts away from the pale man's face, falling into a teasing smile. "You're scared?"

Calum finds himself shaking his head, swallowing down his nerves. "Forget I said that," he mumbles, listening to his words echo off of the walls. "Go and find yourself a pretty boy, Michael. It's what you deserve."

He begins to walk away, feeling his heart sink to his stomach. Michael can barely collect his thoughts, watching him leave. He can't let him walk. Not like this. "What if you're my pretty boy?" He calls.

Calum stops, looking over his shoulder. He smiles, laughing to himself under his breath, "Then I guess you've made a mistake."

Michael stands there for an eternity, barely able to move. A mistake. He thinks to himself. Never. He leaves, knowing that this is all he can do. Calum is stubborn. Even if it isn't good for him. Through rehearsals, he sings but his mind is elsewhere, on the face of a pretty boy who is bruised beyond repair.

He rings Calum again, but there's no answer. "This is stupid," he says to the voicemail. "Call me back."

It's late when he finishes. When ordering an Uber, he stumbles on which address. Calum's or his own? He lets his mind decide. It doesn't take long before he is at the door of Calum's apartment. He knocks and it doesn't even take a few seconds before it is swung open, revealing a tired Maori holding a bowl of pasta.

"Oh," he says, surprised, "What are you doing here?"

"Can I at least have one night where you don't ignore me? I want to see you before I leave."

Calum nods slowly. Before I leave. It's close now. Ridiculously close. He invites the pale man in, giving him some dinner and turning down the TV. Calum stares at him while he eats, wondering what it's going to be like when he doesn't see him every day. Michael talks like he's excited, rambling on about the places he'll go and the songs he'll sing.

Hours pass. Calum keeps staring.

As his eyes droop, and he sinks further into the couch, Michael asks, "Are you really scared?"

Calum rolls over, stuffing his face into the leather. "I told you to forget about it." He mumbles, closing his eyes.

Michael moves to the couch, putting himself under Calum's feet. "I don't want to." He admits quietly.

Calum looks up, drawing a long breath through his nose to sigh. "Why don't you go find your pretty boy, Michael?"

The ends of Michael's lips turn up as he faces the Maori. He looks at his nose and his eyes and his lips and his soul. He loves it. Every bit of it.

I think I have.

bAbE

Favourite ship?

Thoughts on Calum trying to push him away? On them coming back again anyway? lmao Calum couldn't run if he tried

Thoughts on Michael at this point in time? Should he have made a different decision and followed Calum's plan?

How do you think they are going to do without each other?

Writing another fanfic (struggling a lil bit oops) it's gonna be cute tho

Love you xx