#5ssos smut

[blenderhemmings]

sneaking around (calum hood)

calum hood x non binary!oc (they/them)

summary: sneaking around and fucking their tour photographer was NOT part of calums plan, but maybe its just what he needs

word count: 3524

warnings/rating: explicit (18+ minors do not interact), hooking up, awkward sexual situations, enthusiastic consent, OC is their tour photographer, calum had a slut era, whoops he got caught, insta love? maybe? idk, at least from calums pov, OC is demiromantic but also a slut, the OC is non-binary AFAB, a good amount of cock, sub!Calum, but hes actually a switch in this universe, dom!OC

notes: this oc was created by my friend and i for a large and queer fanfic universe we've been building for OVER a year. some quick visual pointers of the OC: theyre 6'2, have split dyed black-blue hair, a lot of tattoos, and dress in a lot of gothic-punk black outfits (platforms are a must).

this fic is cross posted to my AO3

It was their last meeting before the tour and Calum was fidgety to say the least. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the tall, dark haired, and heavily tattooed person sat across the table from him. His knee bounced as people kept talking, waiting anxiously for the person to be introduced to them.

“And this is Archer. They’ll be your photographer on this tour. We’re sorry the other photographer had to cancel on us last minute, but Archer is a wonderful photographer.” Their tour manager said, motioning towards the now named person. Calums eyes lit up, a smile spreading across his face as he leaned across the table to shake their hand.

“Archie works just as well.” They said, a soft smile slipping across their face, shaking hands with Ashton and then Calum. “I actually prefer that. I’m excited to meet the four of you, and I’m so sorry it’s last minute.”

Calum kept a laser focus on Archie, watching their every move as they talked with the rest of the band and crew. He was transfixed on their movements, unsure of what lured him in. Was it the fact he’d really never met anyone as tall as him? Could it be the split dye hair, their soft facial features, or even the large amount of tattoos littering their body? He’d never know, but he knew that he wanted to shake their hand again, just as an excuse to hold it.

He was confused by his feelings. This was someone he just met, he shouldn’t feel this way. He was used to the casual hook up in LA. Using Tinder and Bumble to meet anyone looking for something casual. Fuck buddies, one night stands, and month long flings were his best friend. He’d never wanted to settle down, but he was always looking for a good fuck. It didn’t matter who it was, as long as he was getting that sexual fix.

Once the tour began, Calum started to notice that Archie was a distraction. He’d fumble during soundcheck, watching them walk around the venue to find vantage points. He’d miss a note here and there or trip over his own feet when he saw them in the photo pit. His reaction was worse the closer Archie got to him, quietly hyperventilating and struggling to keep his composure.

They were about four shows deep when Archie pulled Calum aside, “Hey, Cal, question. When we get back to the hotel, can you come to my room? I need your help picking photos of you for the show recap post.” They smiled, leaning back in the chair a bit, scrolling through the photos, picking the ones to set aside and show Calum later that night. “We don’t have time here, so just meet me in my room, yeah?”

Calum nodded, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt, trying to hide the anxious look on his face. “I- uh, yeah, I can do that. You’re in room 687, right?” “678, actually. Don’t go knocking for a stranger. I don’t think that’s one of our rooms.” They laughed, closing their laptop and shoving it in their backpack, zipping it up and checking through their camera bag one last time, accounting for all their equipment. Archie got up and patted Calum’s arm, walking out of the room. He was lost in thought and left in the unknown until he’d be meeting up with Archie later that night.

He didn’t go to their room right away. Calum found himself lingering in Michaels room, fighting with himself about getting up to go see the photos. “Dude, why is hanging out with Archie eating you alive? It’s literally to ask you about some photos, relax.” Michael grabbed Calum's shoulders from behind, squeezing him a little, “Unless somebody has a little crush or something.”

“Why do you think I have a crush on them? I barely know them and I don’t want to like anybody like that either. I’m fine being single for now. You know fucking around is what I do best.” Calum sighed, feeling Michaels hand on his shoulder, squeezing it slightly. “Not every interaction I have with people like this is because I like them.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never acted this way with anyone else.” Calum went red with Michael’s words. He wasn’t wrong, but Calum was scared for him to be right.

“I- Shut up! It’s just photos, I’m just going to help Archie pick out some photos, I’ll be back.” Calum sighed, getting up from the chair in Michael’s room, and heading towards Archie’s. Maybe Michael was right, he had the slightest crush, but it was nothing worth acting upon. They only met a month ago and he barely knew anything about Archie. All he knew was that they were the in-house photographer for a venue in their hometown, had at least 50 tattoos, and they both used the same blue hair dye.

His knock was weak, but Archie heard it. There was shuffling on the other side of the door, and then their voice. “Didn’t I give you a keycard?” Calum panicked, digging through his wallet, only for it not to be there. All he had was his own keycard, bank cards, tour laminate, and a bit of cash. 

“Uh… I forgot it? I came from Michael’s room. Let me in, please?” Calum asked, flipping through his cards again, checking that he didn’t miss it. Archie laughed, unlocking the door and opening it for Calum. “T-thanks. So… Those photos?”

“Right, the photos.” Archie was antsy, bouncing back and forth on their feet before sitting on the edge of the bed. Calum understood the emotion though, he couldn’t imagine being placed into a new environment, forced to get the band's best angles and post their work for millions to see. “Those… they're… let me grab my laptop.”

They dug around in their bag for the hard drive and their laptop, pulling both out to go through the photos with him. “Why… why just me? Don’t you have to ask the others too?”

“I have the most photos of you, so it’d be easier to get it out the way now. I have time with them tomorrow. I need good photos of you, yanno?” Calum nodded at Archie’s words, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching the photos appear on the screen before him. Archie had a good eye and Calum was glad management was able to get them to be their photographer. “Are there any you see right away that you want for sure or any you want deleted?”

Calum shook his head, watching Archie scroll through the hundreds of photos, many looked like they were taken in bursts. 

“Can I have some of these?” He pointed to the black and white photos on the screen.

“Yeah, those are already edited. There was a bright blue light behind you and it was hard to save it, so I made it black and white.” Calum nodded as if he knew anything about photo editing. “I messed with the white balance and exposure to try to take away from how bright the light is, but black and white saved it.”

Archie closed their laptop, placing it on the nightstand, hands folding in their lap, swallowing the lump in their throat. “Uh… this is… this is poorly timed, but can I kiss you?” Calum went cold, goosebumps forming on his arms, eyes wide. It’s like the world froze as his chest went heavy. “God, that’s a dumb question. We barely know each other, let's just get back to the photos.”

Calum shook his head, leaning into Archie, one hand on their thigh, the other unsure where to sit. “That’s not a dumb question, you’re just scared.” Calum leaned in further, pressing his forehead against theirs and then his lips to theirs as well.

He’d kissed hundreds of people in the last few months, but nothing was as good as this. Nobody ever tasted as sweet as Archies vanilla-orange chapstick or smelled as good as their cologne. The kiss progressed quickly, Archie knocking Calum down onto the bed, taking full control.

“C-can I?” Calum nodded, feeling a cold hand slip under his shirt, going towards his chest and then back down to the hem to pull it away from his skin. “I- Uh… My shirt’s gonna… it’s gonna stay on. Is that okay?” Calum nodded again. He didn’t care how clothed Archie stayed, he just wanted their lips and whatever else they were willing to give him.

Shortly after, shoes, socks, and pants made their way to the floor, leaving Calum almost bare, and Archie their shirt and boxers. “Fucking Christ, do something, would you?” Calum whined, feeling Archie’s cold hand press against his skin again, this time on his stomach, creeping towards the waistband of his boxers.

“Be polite and use your words, would you?” Archie teased, fingers going under Calums waistband, snapping it against his skin before tugging it away from his skin, making him yelp. “And be quiet, nobody needs to hear us.” Calum was exposed at this point, Archie straddling him to keep him in place on the bed, one hand resting firmly on his pelvis, the other resting on the mattress. “Quiet, Calum.”

Calum nodded, nothing but a squeak escaping his lips. “Y-yes, please- fuck, please stop teasing me and do something.” The noise got louder as their hand wrapped around the base of his cock, free hand going for his mouth to quiet him down. His instinct was to bite, but not hard. It was just enough to keep himself quiet. A smile crept across Archie’s lips, breathing heavily from making out just moments prior.

“There you go, Cal, just like that. Nice and quiet.” Archie laughed a little, twisting their hand around Calum’s cock, making him yelp and whimper into their hand again. Once Calum had control of his volume, Archie pulled their hand from his lips, only shushing him if he got loud again, which proved to be easy with them on top.

“I want more… please.” Calum whined, feeling Archie’s hand move along his cock. “I want to fuck you, please, Archie.” And everything stopped for a second. Calum was terrified he said the wrong thing, scared that Archie was three seconds away from kicking him out of their hotel room, but they weren’t. “Please, that’s all I want.”

It took Archie a minute to process what Calum said, swallowing the lump of anxiety in their throat. It had been a while for Archie, so it felt new again. “All you want, yeah? How about we make a deal. You get to fuck me, but I get control. Or is that too uncomfortable for you?” Calum shook his head quickly, he would take anything at that point. He wanted to touch Archie in ways he’s never touched anybody else. He felt an instant and true connection that never appeared with anyone else.

But a sudden silence fell over Calum. Sure, he’d had plenty of flings and one night stands with trans people before, but he didn’t want to fuck this one up. It almost felt invasive to ask Archie how to fuck them. Would they have a preference? What if they didn’t want the same thing as him?

“Earth to Calum? I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I? We’ll only do this if you want this.” Archie asked, hand waving in front of his face a little. “You’re not lost in thought, are you?” Calum shook his head a little, he was, but he didn’t want to admit it. “Is it about how you’ll fuck me? I promise that’s a normal thought. We’ve never done this before, I promise it’s okay.”

Archie smiled softly, hand resting on Calums stomach, rubbing their thumb gently over his skin. “I don’t really have a preference, but I know one will be easier than the other.” He nodded, hands moving from the mattress to their hips, body tense as a wave of awkwardness hit him. He felt like it was such a dumb question, even though he needed to ask it. “I promise nothing you’re asking is dumb, Calum. You’re making sure I’m comfortable, and I appreciate that. This could be a one time thing, or it could be something more, and you don’t want to hurt me.”

They pushed their weight against Calum again, pushing him further up the bed, head closer to the headboard, hands going to his wrists to pin him down. “O-Okay.” His voice was shaky, but he was sure this is what he wanted. “I want this, I really do.” Calum’s brain was almost on autopilot at this point, hands going to their hips, resting on the elastic of their boxers. “Can I?”

“Of course, I’ve been waiting for you to do that from the second you walked into the room.”  Both of them chuckled, Archie lifting away from Calum to kick off their underwear, the laughter turning a bit uneasy as their boxers caught around their ankle. “Fuck, that wasn’t hot.” “I don’t care. You’re naked how I want and need, that’s hot enough.” Calums hand went for Archie’s crotch, stopping himself to ask, “Can I… Can I touch you?” The room went silent again, Calum terrified he’d crossed yet another boundary. “I just wan-” Archie grabbed his hand, guiding it further down their body and to their crotch.

“Stop asking questions and thinking you’re overstepping. I’d tell you otherwise. Now, please touch me. I want this just as bad as you, Calum.” He whined, feeling the wet warmth against his fingers as Archie let go of his hand. He lapped his fingers around, dragging them up and down before curling in softly. Archie let out a soft moan, immediately collapsing onto his chest, almost knocking the wind out of Calum. Their head rested on his shoulder, mouthing at the skin, “Fuck, please. More of that. Just like that, please, Cal.”

As Calum continued, he pushed Archie's head up to kiss them, letting them moan against his lips, a knot of warmth forming in his stomach. He couldn’t pull away just yet, but he was sensitive and he needed Archie’s touch once again. “Fuck,” he groaned against their lips, forehead pressing against theirs, two fingers curled inside of them, “I want you.” He whined, sliding his fingers out, a small look of concern taking over his face, unsure what to do with his damp fingers.

Archie grabbed at his wrist, bringing his hand up between them, lips to his fingers to suck them clean. “There, that’s all it took.” they smiled, licking the stringy substance from their lips, “I have no condoms, just so you know.” “O-oh. Nor do I. Do… Do we stop here?” Calum’s voice was weak, but Archie shook their head at his words, hand moving to hold his jaw, forcing him to look back in their direction.

“Unless you want to, absolutely not. You didn’t just make out with me and finger me for nothing. We only stop if you want to stop.” Calum whined at the grip to his jaw, shaking his head that he wanted to continue. “That’s what I thought, baby. If it eases your mind, I’ve been on birth control for years and with a decent amount of people who could… yanno, but it’s never happened, so I don’t think we have to worry.”

“Y-Yeah. Fuck, I want you, Archie.” Calum whined, letting them resituate themself on top of his body, knees resting on each side of his torso. “You’re sure, right?”

“I wouldn’t be half naked, literally inches from letting your cock in me, if I didn’t want this, Calum.” Archie laughed a little, one hand grabbing at Calum’s cock under them, guiding it and letting themself slowly sink down. “God- Fuck, Cal.” They gasped, knees giving out a little as they let him go deeper.

It wasn’t just Archie who whined, Calum did too. The touch to his cock and the feeling of Archie sinking down felt so good. His hands reached for their waist, grabbing tight, a loud and long hiss leaving his lips. “You feel— fuck!” 

Archie let out a deep moan, hands resting on Calum’s chest, digging their fingers in ever so slightly. “That’s it, baby. Rock your hips just like that. Let me do the hard work.” As Calum moved with them, he whimpered at the sensation on his chest. “Just like that, baby. Feels good, doesn’t it?” They rocked slowly at first, hips digging into his, only picking up the pace once they settled and Calum was ready.

He yelped as Archie bounced, feeling their knees against his waist, panting heavily. He’d had his fair share of sexual partners, so being on the bottom was nothing new, but this level of control was. “Go on baby, tell me how this feels. Does it feel good, sweetheart?”

Calum nodded, panting, head thrown back into the pillows as he spoke, “Feels good. You feel good, Arch. Fuck- feels so good.” He was a disaster at that point. His skin was warm, cheeks flushed, forehead sticky with sweat. His lips were parted, leaning up towards Archie, “K-Kiss me, please.” He begged, feeling their sweaty forehead press to his.

Their lips connected momentarily, noses brushing against each other as the kiss got passionate. “You wanna cum, baby? Wanna feel so much better?” He nodded again, feeling the heat building up in his body once again, heart racing. “Let me take care of you then, don’t move.”

Archie worked quickly, nails digging into his chest again, picking up the pace. Their lips touched as they both moaned, Calum struggling hard. “Fuckfuckfuck” He whined, pressing his head into their chest, fingers pressed against their shirt, nails digging into their hips, “G-Gonna cum, fuck, fu-”

Calum choked on his words as his vision blurred, his minimal thrusts turning sloppy, hips meeting Archies at a painfully slow pace. Their orgasm wasn’t far behind, all it took was a few more thrusts and they were moaning into his neck, blush crawling up their neck and into their cheeks.

The silence quickly turned into soft giggles, Archie’s full weight on Calum, foreheads pressed together, refusing to move from the position they were in. Cum dripped out of Archie and onto the base of Calum’s cock. “Holy shit,” Archie gasped, hands moving back to his chest once again. “God, you felt so good.”

His giggle faded, turning into a soft chuckle instead, head resting in the crook of Archie’s neck, whining at any slight movement, as if it would send him into another orgasm.  “S-so did you. Fuck… Can we do that again sometime?”

“So long as we don’t get caught sneaking around.” Archie let out a soft moan, pulling off Calum’s cock, whining at the emptiness and cold feeling on the inside of their legs. They grabbed the pile of clothes and shoes on the floor, separating them out, handing Calum his clothes. “It’s the last thing we want.”

His head was in the clouds, but he understood what Archie meant, “Y-yeah. You’re right. Text me after your shower? I still want those photos. Can I have a towel or something. I don’t wanna get my clothes messy.” “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot about that.” They walked off for a minute, grabbing a small hand towel from the sink and handing it to Calum to wipe himself down. He threw the towel to the side, slipping on his boxers, followed by his pants, zipping them up and putting on his shirt afterwards.

“Th- Is this what’ll happen every time you want to show me photos?” “Maybe, maybe not. Just go take your own shower and I’ll text you, okay? I enjoyed this. It felt nice. I want more of it.” Archie motioned their hands to the bed, then Calum, then themself.

Calum nodded, brushing his hands down his shirt to straighten it out, turning to the full length mirror to fix his hair. “I do too, Archie. I should… I should go before someone catches me.”

“If anything, we were looking at photos. There was a lot… so it makes sense it took a while.” They smiled, walking towards the bathroom as he walked towards the door to the hall. “Photos, with a side of sex and making out.” He nodded again, listening for anyone walking past so he wouldn’t get caught.

The door clicked shut behind him and he scurried down the hall to his room, head turning like an owl in every direction to make sure nobody saw. Every shadow and rustle of sheets behind doors scared him, thinking it was someone who heard the whole thing.

“You look like a deer in fuckin’ headlights, mate.” Michael laughed, tapping Calum on the shoulder as he unlocked his door.

“You bastard!” Calum yelped, dropping his phone and wallet. “I thought you’d be asleep already.”

“It’s only 2am… You’re lucky if I’m asleep by three. So… How did looking at those photos go?”

Calum's brain stopped. He couldn’t lie to his best friend, but he had to, he was not getting caught sneaking around.

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos fanfic #5ssos smut #5sos blurb #5sos imagine #calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood smut #calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #queer!sos #lgbtq 5sos

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Missin’ You is Terrible- Part 2: Thinkin’ ‘Bout You

Calum isn’t looking for deep feelings, just for some fun. But he’s pretty sure friends with benefits isn’t supposed to go like this. Black!Female Reader. 

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No one has my permission to repost this fic, including translations. All rights reserved. Copyright © be-ready-when-i-say-go.

_________________________

Get ready to miss me. 

Her handwriting is sloppy, but still readable. Calum finds the note tucked into his journal. It rests right on top of an envelope. How in the world he managed to miss that this morning when he was packing his bad, he’s not sure. Calum picks up the white paper. Something slides from one end of the envelope to the next. It’s small and rectangular. What in the world? he thinks to himself. He parts the folds and sees something baby blue, a piece of paper--a note. And a small black flashdrive. His breath catches in his throat. 

It’s not what he thinks. No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t do that. With a slight shake in his fingers, Calum pulls out the note. For Private Eyes-- is all that’s written in all caps. He scans the note again before noting a tiny arrow underneath the ‘S’. He follows it all the way down and sees in much tinier handwriting, They are watching you. 

He chuckles. Of course, of fucking course, she’d make a reference to the song in such a serious moment. Was serious even the right word to use here? He isn’t sure, but his heart beat is so rapid he can feel it thumping beneath his skin. Swallow hard, Calum plays with the flashdrive, lets his ears and brain drift down the soundwaves of David Bowie, armpits sweating about what’s on this black drive. He cannot wait for this flight to end. 

When his phone chimes mid afternoon the next day, he’s in the middle of signing posters. The second his plane landed, he managed to grab a couple hours of sleep before being rushed off to the venue. The show that night was great and the guys got up to their usual shenanigans. By the time he had a moment to himself, all he wanted to do was crash. Now he sits, working through the stack of posters in front of him. Calum scribbles his signature across the poster before capping the marker. New iMessage- A-1. Throwing a glance over his shoulders, he unlocks the message. Tell me you’ve stolen a moment alone to check what’s on that flashdrive.

Calum’s hands start to tremble. He doesn’t even want to think about what’s on that USB. He can’t even fathom what sorts of alluring and drool inducing concoctions she’s uploaded up there. He stands from the floor, a soft grunt falling off his lips. His lower back and shoulders have been killing him the last day and a half, and he knows it’s because of his visit to her. He can’t sleep hardly at night anymore. His body is dead beat tired, but his brain keeps drifting to the smell of her bonnet in his nose, to the feel of her curled up into his side. He misses her more than he usually does. 

But right now, at the mention of that fucking drive hooked to his keys, his desire just have her close is replaced with a desire to devour her, to make her see stars, to utterly destroy her for making him like this. To give her a taste of her own medicine. The ringing hits his ear as he pulls the phone closer. The hallways to the venue seem to be bustling. They had soundcheck already, but it seemed like people and crew were always doing something, always on some sort of task. “You could’ve just texted me,” she laughs answering the phone call.

Calum exhales, nearly caving at the sound of her voice. But no, he’s going to give her a taste of her own medicine. She’s always the one pulling his strings, always the one to make him into putty. She’s going to have to suffer. “Patience, babycakes. Didn’t anyone ever teach you that it’s a virtue?”

Her exhale is shaky, crackling through the phone. “That’s quite cruel. I put so much hard work into that surprise for you,” her voice lowers to a whiny whisper. “Months. So many pictures. Videos,” she draws out the word. “All your favorite sets. Know how long it took me to find a baby blue set?”

“Stop,” Calum breathes. He doesn’t want to beg. He can feel the whine trying to claw its way over his throat. He can’t. She can’t win this time. 

“You’re strong when you want to be,” she offers, voice returning to its normal volume and tone. “But only when you want to be,” she adds under her breathe. 

He hears. She knows he did. Calum straightens against the cold concrete wall. “Babycakes, you’re going to regret that.” He’s going to make sure of it. They have two more shows before the North American leg ends. He’ll sweat her out for those two days. “You’re not allowed to touch yourself until I say so.”

“Who died and made you king?”

“Let me spell it out. I have two more shows before this leg ends. How long is the drive to my place from yours? Wouldn’t you like to see Duke? Spend a couple days with me, say hi to the boys?” Calum’s purposefully neglecting details, purposefully not mentioning sex. This is her reality if she misbehaves, if she doesn’t heed his words. But that sounds heavenly as he describes it. Does it sounds just as appealing to her as it does to him? He prayed it did. Part of him wanted her to misbehave. Wanted her to crack as some kind of twisted test to see if listened to his confession. 

It seemed like she did. She got teary-eyed and he held her. Just held her, soothing her with soft murmurs and kisses to her forehead. He didn’t know what to say. Was there anything to say at that point? He wasn’t sure, and isn’t sure even now. She never said anything. How could he respond if she never spoke to him verbally. But then again she was never one for words. She spoke in actions. Like the next morning, she made him his favorite pancakes and she surprised him with muffins from a local bakery. Would she speak with actions again this time? Would she show him where she stood this time around?

“I’ll play this game,” she answers, consenting to the rules. They play these games. They make these rules, but rarely. Calum smiles at the phrase. “But when at the end of this, after I’ve obeyed like a good girl, can you do something for me?”

“What do you propose?”

“You’ll know when I ask for it.”

Calum drops his head to the wall, not hard enough to hurt him. He has to fight every once of him to fight the fucking groan trying to burst through his chest. She’s devious. She could ask for anything. She could ask to Dom. She could ask him to jump off a bridge and Calum would have to agree if he says yes now. He highly doubted she would ask him to do such a thing. But agree without specifics was a hairy situation to be in. But she needs a reward, something to look forward to that’s just for her at the end of this. Her obeying his rule, her being a good girl is for him, so he can watch her crack and melt to the smallest of his touches. He loves it. But she needs something on the other end of the deal that satisfies her Dom side, something that gives her an upper hand, even if it’s just temporary. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Calum nods. “I’ll play this game,” he says, pushing out all his breathe. 

“Thank you, angel.” Calum can see the sly grin on her face, he can feel her nails ghosting over his skin. The thought makes his body shiver. A groan slips over his lips. “Oh, you’re not going to regret it. Well not that much.”

Oh, she’s not getting to him right now. She’s not pulling this sleight of hands right now. Calum pushes off the wall. “You only get your favor at the end. Don’t get too cocky now.” With that he ends the call. No goodbye, doesn’t let her get something slick in. The more opportunities she has to say something smart, to say something capable of cracking him, the more likely he is to crumble in this resolve. He drops his head back against the wall, exhaling deeply. 

Someone chuckles next to him. He looks to see Ashton and Michael, sticking their heads out of the door. “Looks like someone had a pretty fun phone call,” Michael laughs. 

Calum doesn’t even need to look down to his pants to know what they’re referring to. In defense, Calum flips them off. Ashton speaks, “That Nobody is truly Somebody huh?”

Calum wants to tell them to fuck off, that it’s none of their business. But his neck is a mess of red bruises still. She worked a number on him the afternoon before he had to leave. Not that he minds, but the jokes keep coming. 

“That Nobody is probably a vampire. It’s a miracle that he’s still alive,” Michael states. 

“Alright, get a new joke,” Calum retorts. “You’ve used that one enough.” 

“Did she call to see if you had restocked? Which by the looks of it, you’ve got plenty of blood to spare,” Michael says. 

This one gets Calum, his laughter bursts out of him. “Fuck off,” he chuckles out, walking back into the room. There’s no hiding it, there’s no need to even try. Calum walks back into the dressing room, knowing full well everyone that looks at him can take a guess as to who he was just talking to. No one questions it. Calum knows he ought to be more shameful, more reserved about this. But he’ll give her this. The quiet recognition that there is a somebody even if they never speak her name. He can give her that, and she never has to know. 

__ Calum slides into his bunk that night, exhausted. But he figures before he slips into unconsciousness, he’ll finally take a quick look through her little gift. Calum pulls out his laptop and fishes out the USB. Slotting it into the port, Calum’s heart races. If he was dead tired before, now he’s wide awake. The small icon pops up, the title of the seems innocent enough. He clicks on it and there’s two compressed ZIP files. He clicks on one of it and a small text box pops up, asking for a password. What does he need a password for? She never game him one. 

But he remembers the note. He tries ‘forprivateeyes’ and that doesn’t work. Calum thinks for a second ‘privateeyes’. That doesn’t work. What else was on that note then? Calum reaches into back into his bag and pulls the envelope out. Down in that corner in the smaller handwriting. Calum types into the box, ‘theyarewatchingyou’. The box disappears and suddenly his computer screen is filled with tiny icons. The rich depth of her skin in each one of them. His fingers tremble as he clicks on one at random. The photo that lights up his screen is just of her, sitting in her fluffy grey moon chair. She appears to be bare beneath the white sheet. She gaze is direct to the camera, or maybe it’s a mirror. Probably a mirror, he guesses. She did a rod set, he can tell by the way the curls do more a shirley temple curl than the zig zag pattern of her natural curl pattern. Her head titled just a little, lips glossy, pouty and parted. 

Calum’s inhale is shaky. Holy fuck, holy fucking shit. He closes that one and clicks on another one, a little further down. Calum bites his lips as the picture loads, her a playboy bunny bodysuit. His body is tingling and hot. God, fuck. It did take her months to do all of this. Fuck, holy fuc. Scrambling he finds his phone buried under the blanket of the bunk. He doesn’t even know if she’s up at this hour. But he still tries. He has to see if she’s awake. So she can see what the fuck she’s doing to him. He keeps the volume down low, resting the phone against the screen of laptop. He clicks on another photo. This one is a video. She’s at her desk in her office, lazily sucking on a lollipop. Cherry he figures from the color of the candy. She gives a clear view of the tip of her tongue circling the body of the candy. “Fuck you,” he whispers. 

“But you’re so far away.”

Calum looks down to the phone. She’s sleepily grinning into the camera. Shit. He didn’t mean to interrupt her sleep. “Did I wake you? I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she murmurs. “You called for a reason.”

“I finally looked at what’s on that drive. You know you’re such a good girl, right? But so bad at the same time.”

 “It’s my speciality, huh?”

Calum looks back to the screen, she’s pulling the candy from hollowed cheeks. He can hear the lewd pop sound, the slurping follows soon after. Fuck, that does not sound good. He hurriedly turns down the volume, heart thundering, blood pounding in his ears. “You have headphones for a reason!” Luke shouts with a laugh. 

She chuckles. “Wear headphones for all videos in the future.”

Calum sighs. “Thanks for the warning. Now, after the fact.”

She hum, shifting before her face is completely illuminated in the dark of her room by her phone screen. “See, now’s about the time I’d be touching myself. But somebody’s decided to be an asshole.”

A grin lifts Calum’s cheeks. “Be good for him, babycakes. Sleep well.”

“Wait, you’re not just going--” Her sentence dies on her lips. Because he is. He is going to toy with her. “That’s not the only reason why you called. Not just to tell me that you looked.”

“Sweet dreams,” he says. 

A whine falls from her lips. “You’re gonna leave me high and I can’t say necessarily dry, but, just gonna leave me hanging?”

 “I surely am,” Calum smiles, waves into the camera. The call ends, the distinct two beep sound signaling it. 

The next day, the bus empties, leaving Calum alone for just a spare few minutes. So he pulls out his laptop, sliding the USB into the port again. He calls her again on FaceTime. It takes her longer to answer this time. When the call finally connects, Calum smiles, fingers typing in the password. “Have you been good?”

“No.” The word is so definite. She doesn’t make an excuse, she doesn’t hesitate with the word. But he catches the huff at the end of it. It’s not a pouty huff, it’s a breathless huff. He snaps his attention to his phone. Her chest is heaving, but she grins lazily into the camera. 

“Are you--Why?” Calum can’t even get the words out to fully flesh out his disbelief. So blatant, like with no shame. He should be furious, he’s trying to tell myself to be. But it’s not working. All that’s flooding him is desire, it starts in his lower gut, spreading to his chest. His body floods with warmth. A moan falls over her lips, eyes fluttering close. “Show me. Show me how much of a fucking bad girl you’re being,” he whispers. 

The screen shifts. She’s using her laptop, he realizes as the full view of her body comes into view. She situations the laptop between her legs. He watches the point in which her fingers disappear inside of her. He can see the pillows lifting her lower back and hips. She’s at home. She must be writing today. “So you couldn’t wait?” Calum questions, gaze zeroed in on slickness glistening in the reflection of the screen. 

“Hmm, I’m sorry. I couldn’t wait.”

“Clearly, you’re not sorry enough to stop.”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you jacking off to those photos,” she sighs, squeezing one of her breasts. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the sounds you make, the way you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. Then I really wanted your fingers inside me. Then I-fuck,” she hisses. Her hips start to rise, heels dig into the mattress. Her fingers have sped up. 

“Stop. You fucking stop right now, or so help me God.”  He doesn’t even recognize his own voice. The amount of authority that spills past his lips makes him scared. 

Her fingers immediately stop, she doesn’t remove them. Just stops, like she was told. “I’m sorry. I-,” she tangles her free hand around the roots of her hair. 

“Tell me why. Why disobey and break the rules. I even gave you a reward at the end.”

It’s silent. She turns her attention to him. She’s assessing him. She’s trying to find the right words. She can write her ass off, she can create beautiful words. But in person, she flails. Calum doesn’t want to have to guess her motives. He wants the fucking truth. He creates an incentive. “I’ll let you cum if you’re honest.”

“I know I wasn’t supposed to touch myself. I know I consented to the rules. But what if instead of seeing you just for sex, I really wanted to just say hi to Duke, and see the other guys, and bake and too late or too fucking early in the morning with you like we used to do. What if I said I was breaking the rules because sex matters much less to me when it comes to me?”

“Well, are you saying it? Why fill that flashdrive?”

“I am saying it. I’m saying that. Why fill the flashdrive? Because I’m always thinkin’ ‘bout you. Literal months spent putting that together. Because literally you consume every thought that’s not about work or writing. Sue me. Fucking sue me for being a human being with fucking feelings. Sue me for trying to suggest that maybe just maybe I might want something more.”

His breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t do relationships. They never work for him. It requires too much trust. The last time he thought he could trust someone it blew up in his face and went viral--not in the way he wanted either. He was a kid, it was an honest mistake. But still when things cut deep, they leave scars. His first reaction is to say things would never work. His first reaction is to fucking run. But hasn’t he already kind of opened this door? Is he actually falling for her? Is this just more than sex? Was it ever really just about sex?

“Well, are you going to say anything?” 

Calum wasn’t even aware of how long his silence had stretched. “I’m a man of my word. You can cum. Be a good girl for me.”

“I know I’m naked right now. But we are passed this game. We are passed a tug of war in who’s Dom right now,” she sighs, pushing the laptop away from her. She disappears from view, but still talks. “I know we’re shit with words and verbally expressing ourselves. But I’d greatly appreciate you opening your fucking mouth for once.”

The door to the bus opens. His security guard waves at him. “C’mon, Cal.”

Shit, of course. Now when he doesn’t need to be interrupted. Her sigh is heavy from the other side of the screen. “Go, I understand.”

Calum exits the folder, ejecting the flashdrive. “I’ll call you back,” he says. “Okay? Give me just a minute to get into the venue and then I’m calling right back.”

“Okay.” It’s not a convincing tone. She’s defeated. Her lips are twisted, her eyes look glassy. Fuck, damn it. 

“I swear. I’ll call the second I’m inside.” All she does is sigh and nod before ending the call. Calum rushes to collect his things, throwing them into his bag. He follows behind the guard, phone still unlocked on her contact name. The second the fans see him, the screams start. He waves. He doesn’t even attempt to smile. The moment his feet touch the inside of the venue his taps on her number again. The call rings once, then twice, three times. She’s not going to answer. Calum bites down on his thumb nail, listening to the ringing. He doesn’t leave a message. 

He calls again a couple hours later, after sound check. Still no answer. She responds to that missed call with a text. Sorry, got an email about a bumped up deadline. 

Calum types a reply. Okay. Good luck. Let me know you’re done so we can talk. Please. 

She sends back a thumbs up emoji. Calum drops the phone into his lap, rubbing his closed eyes with the heel of his palms. She always responds with a text, a phrase, even if it’s just ‘K’. There’s always some sort of text, never just an emoji. He could cry.  Honestly, he might be. There’s that all too distinct sting behind his eyes. Yes, definitely teas. It’s not that he wants to reject his feelings. He’s just frustrated. He can’t believe that he was an idiot. Why didn’t he say anything about his feelings? Why did he think that he could respond like that? “Fuck,” he exclaims.

The entire room jolts at the exclamation. Michael puts his phone down, watching his friend rub his face. Ashton walks over, perching onto the edge of the sofa. “I’m such an fucking idiot,” Calum mutters. 

“What’s up, man?” Ashton asks. 

Calum shakes his head, finally opening his eyes. He peers up to Ashton, the anguish painting his face. Ashton knows, gives a squeeze to Calum’s shoulder. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“You said that already.”

“I just really fucked up. And I can’t tell if she’s blowing me off, or she’s actually busy now and can’t talk. She’s never responded to a message with just an emoji. Never, ever.”

“Give her the rest of the day. See if she responds with something else.” Calum nods. Maybe she just needs time. 

The entire show, Calum’s too focused on if she’s called, if she’s left a message. She knows he’d be on stage at this point. If she really wanted to talk, she wouldn’t call when he couldn’t answer. He misses a note and nearly wants to kick his own ass. Just stop thinking about her for thirty seconds, he reprimands. When the show ends, Calum hates himself. He played terrible. He managed towards the end of the show to put aside his thoughts for the most part. But by that point, it feels too late to correct it, to make it better. 

He stands from his final bow, steps backwards and immediately thinks about drowning his anger in a pint. Or two, maybe more. His phone is empty of messages from her. Not a text or a call. He figured as such. As the night nears morning, there’s still nothing from her. Calum curls up in his bunk, clutching his phone. He doesn’t care if her call comes at 7 in the morning. It won’t matter what time as long as it comes. 

__

To see Duke is just the distraction that Calum needs. She still hasn’t called. It’s only been a day and a half. He’d be less concerned, if not for the fact of his fucking idiotic mistake. He hasn’t called since his text, he’s afraid to interrupting her. But now it’s eating him alive. He reclines in his outdoor seating, rubbing Duke’s stomach. “Should I call her bub?” he asks the small dog. 

Duke turns his head to Calum. He doesn’t say anything, just pants a little happy to have Calum back. Calum unlocks his phone and hovers over her name. He should call her. Even if she doesn’t answer, he’ll leave a voicemail. He’ll apologize. There’s a chance she doesn’t listen right away. But he has to do something. He taps it and presses the phone icon. Bringing the phone to his ear, he listens to the ringing, heart pounding against his ribs. It rings for a fourth time and he’s about to give up when the call connects. “So, I’m still on deadline and I’m still pretty pissed. But I figured I should finally answer,” she says. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve actually responded to your confession. I should’ve said literally anything other than what I did. I’m so so sorry.”

“Could’ve said that in a text.”

“Would you even have read it?”

She chuckles. “Probably not right away.”

“How much more do you have to do? What’s the new deadline? I want to have a proper conversation but I don’t want to intrude on your time.”

“Tonight. I still have a fourth of this chapter and then three more. I haven’t slept more than four, five hours total. I’m running on pure caffeine, right now.” Her sigh is heavy through the phone.

“Get some rest, okay? I’ll call tomorrow morning.”

“I’m still mad at you,” her voice is soft. 

“You could curse me out. But I’m going to talk to you. I’m going to apologize properly, again.”

“I’ll answer,” she whispers. Calum ends the call, biting his lip. This is good. She answered. As Calum watches out, taking in the lush grass, recording cute clips of Duke, he starts planning how early to get up. He’s got more than one way to apologize to her.

__

“How can I help you?” the young girl says from behind the glassy display case. 

Calum eyes the donuts, but also keeps an eye on Duke. He sits quietly, watching all the other patrons of the bakery. “Half a dozen variety pack. Though I might be back later,” he chuckles, thinking how much she loves this family owned donut shop. 

The girl nods, grabbing the box and lining it with a wax sheet. “It’s a blessing and a curse to work here,” she jokes. “I highly suggest the lemon filled.”

“Throw two of those in there, yeah. Two red velvets.” Those are her favorite. He cannot show up to her door without those in the pink box. He pauses, looking over the rest of the options. “And two classic glazed too.”

“Great choices.”

It’s about ten when he knocks on her door. If it weren’t for the donuts in his passenger seat, Calum is sure that it would’ve taken him nearly an extra hour to knock. He said call, not roll up at her door with donuts. But he did also have Duke, so maybe that would make up for it as well. Just as he drops his hand, the door opens. He expected her to roll out of bed, drag herself to the front door. But no, she’s in athletic shorts and an one of his t-shirts tucked into them. It’s his Drop Dead one, the ones with holes in it. Her hair picked out in a fro around her head. She’s even got lipgloss on. Fuck. He wonders for a moment if it’s the one that’s slightly scented like vanilla. 

“I thought you said you were going to call,” she chuckles, holding the door open with her body. 

Calum shrugs. “So maybe I’m bad about my word sometimes.” He lifts the box of donuts. “But I brought breakfast, or maybe a mid-morning snack. It looks like you’ve been up for a while.”

She waves him inside, crouching to pick up Duke, who happily climbs into her arms.  She giggles. “Yes, it’s scented lip gloss Duke. No, you can’t have any. I’m so sorry bud.” Calum places the box onto her dining room table. He spies the Swiffer mop and knows she was in the middle of cleaning, so slides out of his shoes, putting them on the guest shoe rack.He stands for a moment. Can he act like he normally does? Go straight in for a donut and kick his feet up on the coffee table? No, he should probably talk to her first. 

“I’m going to chop your head off. Relax.”

Calum plays at the rings on his fingers. He’s not really sure why he put them on. Well, no, that’s a lie. He knows why he put them on, because he knows how much she loves them. He wanted to show he was thinking about her too. Another reason why he got the donuts too. Calum nods, looking to the ground for a second. “So, if I say I’m a fucking idiot and I’m very sorry again is it overkill?”

She slips the harness off Duke, shaking her head. “No. It’s not overkill. Some might call it just a kill. I’m sorry for ghosting. I should’ve called or something.” She slumps in front of her couch, put Duke up on the couch cushions. Calum grabs the box of donuts and some napkins. He settles down directly across from her in front of the coffee table. She flips the lip, grabbing a red velvet with her fingers. 

“You’re disgusting,” Calum teases. 

“You’ve kissed me with your own cum in my mouth. Let’s not talk about gross right now.”

He rolls his eyes, though he shifts a little. “We’re not talking about that right now.” But there’s a lot more they’re also not talking about either. Like, is Calum ready to jump into the deep end. Is he truly gonna let himself call this love? Is he going to call this a desire to be with someone that’s not strictly sexual? Is he going to actually “do” feelings right now? But fuck, does he like pondering the universe with her. He likes watching her play with Duke, he’s got too many videos of them curled up together on his phone. 

“It’s been hard to sleep at night,” Calum utters. She pauses, part of her bite still hanging out of her mouth. “Without you,” he continues. “Like, I either don’t sleep peacefully at all. Or I sleep in this really tight ball and I wake up with sore muscles. There’s something about the floral scent to your hair products, something about your body heat next to me. And like, pondering the universe alone fucking sucks. I much rather hear you debate me on every sentence than have my brain loop the same paranoid thought a thousand times. And I’ve very unfortunately forgotten your family recipe to snickerdoodle cookies and I’m sad about that because they’re the greatest cookies ever. And what I’m really trying to say is that I have feelings for you. And not just the ‘I-want-to-fuck-her-senseless’ kind. It’s more of the ‘I-want-to-watch-her-edit-at-the-kitchen-table-massage-her-shoulders-and-then-fuck-her-senseless-on-it’ feelings’ kind of feelings. And I’m so sorry I didn’t say that before. I-- me and verbal communication aren’t the best of friends.”

She nods. “I know that much. We aren’t great friends either. I guess my question is, do we want to act on those feelings? Like I know I’d like to, but Mr. Doesn’t Do Relationships across from me might say otherwise.”

“I do. I want to act on these feelings. I’m not promising that I’m going to the best. I’m not promising that I’m such knight in shining armor. But I am promising to try. It’s honestly all I’ve got.”

Licking some of the icing from her fingers, she taps against the wooden structure beneath her fingers. “So, like, what now?” she laughs. 

Calum shrugs with chuckle. “The hell if I know.” 

“I gotta finish mopping the kitchen, so I’m going to go do that and then we can figure out what the hell happens from here.” Calum nods, watching her push up from the floor. As she passes, he reaches out for her, fingers brushing over her calves. She nudges his leg with her foot. He over dramatizes the effect and falls back onto the hardwood flooring. 

Her chuckle is soft, “Idiot. It wasn’t even that hard.” Before she can walk away, Calum grabs onto her ankle. He know she has responsibility. But the kitchen floor isn’t going to up and run. “Yes, Calum?”

“Are you still mad at me?”

��No, you fucking bought me red velvet donuts. I’d be a fool to still be mad at you.”

“Does that then mean that I can get a kiss?”

She watches the way his lips quirk into a smirk. He’s going to ask for a lot more. He says kiss, but she second squats down to peck his lips, his hands are going to find her hips. If his hands find her hips, they’ll find her waist. Then her breast, her throat, every inch of her skin. “Just a kiss,” she warns. 

The warning falls on deaf ears. As she lowers down, Calum catches her waist, pulling her in close. Don’t swing your legs over his waist, she warns herself. That’s the deadly move, that’s the nail in her coffin. As their lips pull apart, Calum gives another tug. Her knee hits his side. “I gotta mop,” she defends. Yes, mop. That’s going to spare her just minutes. 

“It can wait. I’m thinking about that playboy bunny suit right now and I really hope your coffee table is sturdy.”

She straddles him, holding his face gently in her hands.This is it, she’s completely lost any ounce of being in her right mind. He smells so much like Gain, stale cigarettes and coffee. He smells like home to her. She doesn’t give a fuck about that kitchen floor now. “Coffee table’s too short.” They gaze at each other. Dark brown melting into each other. He reaches up and brushes over her face with the back of his knuckles. She’s real, and his. Fuck, the phrase feels strange in his mind. Would it sound just as strange? Would it feel awkward leaving hips?

“You’re like, actually mine,” he whispers, his lips lift into a smile. No, it’s definitely not awkward. It feels right. But still strange, still not firmly in his grasp.

“I’m yours,” she laughs, kissing him. His fingers dig into her side. She’s soft beneath his fingers, she’s warm, she’s his. Her hips grind down on his crotch, covered thinly in the mesh of his basketball shorts. He groans into her mouth. She tastes differently now, he thinks, even behind the sweetness of her donut. She still tastes, smells like what he always knew, but it feels new on his tongue, in his nose. It feels news and exciting somehow. 

Calum slips his hands under the cotton of her, his, t-shirt and she moans into his mouth. The rings probably cold to her. Balling the cotton into his fist he pulls up. She breaks their kiss, pulling the shirt completely off her body. A lacy black bralette covers her brown chest. He runs the pads of his fingers over her skin, dancing them over the swell off her breasts. She drops her head back, pressing hard down into his crotch again. “Hmm,” she whines. 

“I know you call me an angel. But right now, you’re the one god sent,” he whispers to her, squeezing her breast beneath the thin material. He drags his second hand down her stomach, pressing his palm deep into her flesh. 

Her head falls forward, a smile resting on her face. She crawls her nails up his skin, trailing up his ribs beneath the black hoodie adorning his body. She pushes the material up, exposing his skin to the cool air. Her lips are soft as the barely touch his body. “Ah,” he groans, tensing at the small bites she trails up his skin. She pushes until the hoodie is up and over his head. Calum sits up, pulling them chest to chest. 

She rests her head onto his shoulder as his fingers run down her spine, playing at the hooks. Her cheek is so close to his silver fern. His reminder of a home he’s never been. She wants to take them there. She wants to watch his face light up when he lands and gets to spend proper time with his family. Not rushed backstage, not told at the holidays. But proper time. She kisses the tattoo softly several times. Calum tilts his head a little, letting her take her time with his body. “I’m gonna take you home of these days,” she whispers in his ear, gently nibbling at his ear. 

He chuckles. “It’s two hours without bad traffic.”

“No,” she presses a hand to the tattoo. “I’m going to take you home. Here,” she says tapping the black ink. 

“I am in a home,” he returns. “Right here with you in my arms.”

“A home, but not home. I know Sydney will always be your home, the place you’ll ultimately go back to. But, roots, I want to take you to your roots.”

He can’t say no to that. He’s always wanted to go. He’s just never allowed himself to dream it a possibility. He always has something else to do. He’s always putting something else in front of it. He can’t put something else in front of her though. She’s going to be his reason to finally think of himself. “Okay, Ms. Big Shot. Sweep me off my fucking feet.”

She kisses him, laughter still bubbling from her lips. “I’m not that strong. But I’ll surely try.”

Calum undoes the hooks to her bralette, staring directly into her eyes as he pushes the lace away from her skin. “A small wise old alien once said, ‘Do or do not. There is no try.’”

She slaps his chest. “Do not quote Yoda to me with your dick hard.”

He laughs, biting the end of her nose before placing a kiss to it. “Fine. No more Yoda quotes in the bedroom. But since this isn’t the bedroom.”

She covers his mouth, trying to stare at him with fire in her eyes. But all that’s there is love, is her laughter, is a softness for him. “I swear to God, Angel, I will walk away right now.”

Calum sighs, but nods, signalling his agreement to not quote anymore Star Wars. He wraps his arms around her waist as she slowly pulls her hand away. Calum waits. She’ll give in too soon. She’ll believe in his agreement. Right as she relaxes into his embrace, he squeezes her into a hug. “Feel the Force.”

“I fucking hate you, Cal! Oh my god, I do.” She laughs, attempting to wrestle from his grasp. He peppers her face and neck in loud, wet kisses, punctuating each one with a “muah” sound effect. She knows she can’t win. Not in a game of pure strength, so she gets a good handful of hair into her hands and pulls. Calum immediately ceases with playful kisses a whimper falling over his throat. His grip slackens and he lets her pull his head up.She pushes away from him, settling onto the edge of the coffee table. 

“Don’t laugh,” she warns.

Why would he laugh? All he can think about is the pleasure swimming in his veins. She peels her shorts away to reveal Wonder Woman underwear. “If you think those panties are gonna ruin this mood, you have got me all wrong.” Calum pushes shorts and underwear off, wiggling his fingers for her to crawl back onto his lap. 

“My knees are already gonna be mad at me,” she teases, running her fingers over his length. It’s been way too long. Her mouth is already watering at the sight of him, mind already reminding her what he taste like. She stands, holding out her hands. Calum stands with her assistance before she’s pushing him into the wall. 

“Shouldn’t you be the one against the wall?” he teases, but his laughter dies in his throat when she sinks to her knees. Her hands wrap around him with no apprehension and tug up. 

“Hands behind your back please?”

Widening his stance a bit, Calum holds his hands behind his back, bracing into the wall. Her tongue and lips slips over with ease. There’s the initial moment of tensing before he relaxes into the sucking, slurping, tugging of her mouth and hands. She swirls around his length with the top of her tongue, flicking at head before sucking his back down her throat. “Fuck,” he hisses at the feeling of him hitting the back of her throat. She gags around him and pulls back for a moment. 

His toes are curling. His hands are fists, have been for what feels like hours now, but knows are only minutes. She slurps some of the excess salvia, but the vibration sends a current through Calum’s body. “God-fuck, baby,” he whines, watching her. He wants nothing more than to grab a fistful of her hair, wipe the tears falling down her cheeks. “Oh, please, can I touch you?” his voice is just a pant. 

He gets no answer. She just wants to bring him over the edge, just wants to hear the groan ripping over his throat. She’ll stop at nothing to hear it. Her hand pulls faster, her bobs become more swallow. But her pace is relentless. Calum feels like he’s chipping paint off her wails, but how hard he’s scratching to keep his hands in place. His hips rut into her mouth once, then a second time. He’s gonna come down her throat. Tearing his hands from behind his back, he grabs both sides of her face, stilling her. He gives another rut of his hips, hitting the back of throat. She gags around him and the sudden squeeze is all he needs. His groan tears over his throat. Calum drops his head into the wall, emptying himself into her. His vision stars for a moment until her nails dig into his thighs. Then he hisses from the pleasurable pain. 

His breathe still gone, he brings his gaze back down to her, she’s got tears down her face. He pulls out of her mouth and she coughs. “Sorry,” he whispers, pulling her up. “I’m sorry.” Calum wipes her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, allowing her time to catch her breathe. Once he’s sure she’s breathing steadily, he pulls her in. He knows what he taste until on her tongue. But he just needs her close. Their kiss is soft. Arms wrapped around his neck, their bodies press close other. Calum lets his hands wander, sliding between her legs. She’s soaked, so much so, he slides in one finger giving test pumps before deciding he can easily insert a second. 

She shudders against him, back bowing a little. Calum wraps his left arm around her, hoisting her into a studier position. “Come around my fingers, yeah, babycakes?”

Her words die in her throat as he pumps faster. Watching her, mouth hanging opening, the tiny sounds and moans falling over her lips, she reminds him of a painting come to life--nothing more perfect to him. Her latch around his neck tightens, her head dropping to his chest. He continues to push his fingers in and out of her curling up into the fleshy part of her. “Hmm, God,” she cries.

“That’s right,” he whispers into her ear. He drags his lips over her skin, kissing the parts he can reach, bending to nip at her collarbones. 

“Calum,” she hums, her legs start to shake. She can’t stand hardly. She’s not going to be able to stand by herself, she thinks. The wave of orgasm crashes over her, hits her all at once. “God,” she shouts, voice straining and eventually giving out on her. Her mouth hangs open, clutching, clawing at Calum to keep up, to keep steady. He rides out the rest of high, feeling as her holds slackens. 

Gently, he pulls his fingers out of her, bring them to his own lips. In her post orgasm haze, she can just register the sounds of Calum moans in her ears as he licks his fingers clean. She smiles up at him, tugging at his wrist. His hand in front of her she licks around the metal of his fingers, collecting her own arousal on her tongue. “Can’t let you have it all,” she grins, and then drops her head back into his chest. 

“No,” he chuckles, “no you can’t. Clearly.” Both arms wrapped around her, they stay hugged together, his back still pressed into the wall. 

“I will be able to walk in approximately 6.3 seconds. And it’ll be the bed for nap. Care to join me?” she laughs, sound muffled by his skin. 

“Sounds good to me.”

#calum hood #calum hood imagine #calum hood 5sos #calum hood smut #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic #calum 5sos #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer smut #5ssos smut #h writes #luke hemmings #michael clifford #ashton irwin

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Something hoochie with Luke and working on his solo album

Taking limited requests. 4 slots left.

Hoochie, but make it soft. So soft. CW: NSFW 18+ Content.

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Dealing with things positively sucked and Luke was sure that his plan previously to keep living, keep burying was the best for him. But there was progress--and he couldn't deny that. He could actually talk to you about things. The wall that made it seem like it was always going to be on an emotional island or emotional hell was cracking and it felt good.

But it fucking hurt--to realize so many mistakes he made. Knowing that's not the kind of person he wanted to be, not anymore. And right now, he fucked up. You asked him to help you clean the kitchen taking the trash out and help you clean the top of the cabinets. Easy work really in the grand scheme of it all. If it had just buckled up and got fucking down to it, he would be done already.

But the house is way too silent. At first he doesn't hear it due to the guitars and keys in his ears, but in his pause and stretch in the computer chair, he realizes in fact the house is too quiet. When he looks up to the time in the right hand corner of his laptop, his jaw drops. He asked for five more minutes before helping you. And you agreed--because five minutes was reasonable. But not this. This was far from reasonable.

"Holy fuck," he mutters, spinning around in his chair. "Babe, I'm so sorry," he shouts, only realizing the door is closed and most likely keeping his voice from carrying outside of the makeshift studio. "Babe!" he calls again, taking the hallway in a half job.

How had an hour passed? One moment he was just importing tracks, fully intending to stop there and but then he wanted to check them to make sure the takes were as clean as he could get them before cutting anything else together.

When he skids to a halt in the kitchen, you're at the table, a plate of crumbs in front of you. "I know I asked for five minutes and then I totally spaced. And it's not an excuse. I should have set a timer. I'm very sorry," Luke says, approaching slowly from your left.

"I'm trying hard not to blow my top, Luke. I just--I agreed to the five minutes because that was reasonable. I figured I could do something else in that time until you were ready. And then I tried to knock and call your name. And you didn't answer."

"My headphones were on. But really, I should've set an alarm. I can help now. Do you still need help?"

You shake your head. "No, I finished it up."

"Baby, that's not safe. If you had of fallen--"

"I didn't fall," you interrupt, staring into the glass in front of you. The water glistens in the sun and for a moment you hate it. Hate how pretty it is, how much it doesn't care given all the shit you're going through right now. And you know it's not right to blame sunlight and water. And you're trying not to blame Luke. You're trying not to make him into the villian.

Luke doesn't like how sad your voice is. "Let's talk about it?" He walks around the table and settles across from you. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I just--" you start and then stop. "I feel like this has been happening a lot. And I don't want to feel like I'm being neglected."

He never meant to make you feel that way. But just because he hadn't wanted to, didn't mean he hadn't. "I'm very sorry I've made you feel that way. I know I need to do better. Do you think you have that kind of capacity? To give me time to get better?" The language is awkward on his tongue but his therapist says not making assumptions and using language that gives others choice is going to serve best. So he's careful as he speaks to make sure he's not making any assumptions on your behalf.

You sigh, but nod. "I do. I think that maybe putting household stuff on a schedule can help?"

Luke nods. "I like that idea. It would force me to track of time too." The silence envelopes the two of you and you look up to his face. Luke looks pensive, as if trying to decipher something.

"Is-is there something else you want to say?"

Luke blinks, turning his icy blue eyes back to you. "Not right now. But when I get the right words later, I'll let you know."

You nod, picking up your plate and taking it to the sink. Luke's voice floats up from behind you. "Do you need help with anything else?"

"No, I think I'm going to take a nap."

Luke hums, to let you know he's heard you. And when you shuffle just over to the couch, Luke walks back to the sink, washing the plate and a few sparse cups left by the two of you.

You curl up around Petunia and drifting into sleep isn't hard. Luke watches your breathing slow and become steady. He keeps his distance in the kitchen, watching you from the table. If you already finished cleaning the kitchen, he wonders if cleaning the bathrooms were next on your list.

Yeah, he can do that. Clean the bathrooms, and do the laundry. And once that's done if you're awake, he'll draw you a bath. First he checks to see if your favorite sweets are in the pantry. If they aren't he'll go out and get them and a few other grocery. But you're well stocked. So he careful goes down the hallway, grabbing all the cleaning supplies.

Luke's careful to shut the door to the bathroom so the running water doesn't wake you. He sprays down the tub and walls and let's it sit for moment as he clears off the counters and the top of the toilet cover. Once those are clear and cleaned he turns his attention back to the tub. With that clean he wipes down the mirror and lines the inside of the toilet with cleaner.

It gets a little stuffy, so he cracks the door just a smidge. His har flops in his face, and he pushes it back with the back of his hands. He can't keep letting this kind of stuff happen. Maybe Mondays are kitchen days. A way to reset after the weekend. Then Tuesdays could be laundry. Or maybe Tuesday's can be bathroom days and then Wednesdays can be laundry.

Done with the the first bathroom, he carries his supplies to the master bathroom.

Something about laundry on Wednesdays feels better to Luke. Right now it's being done on as needed basis, and there wasn't anything wrong is that. But he felt like sometimes because of this he was constantly running the bottom of the barrel for his own clothes. So doing it more consistently would help him with that.

Luke finishes the master bathroom quicker than he anticipated and then heads to the half bath and cleans that quickly. By the time he's done his shirt is just starting to cling to him. He feels off the gloves, puts all the buckets and cleaners back up. You still sleep peacefully on the couch and Luke grabs the laundry pins from the closet--both yours and his.

While laundry wasn't always Luke's favorite, mostly because separating out the delicates, darks, and lights, made his head hurt, he threw together a little chart that you got lamented and hang up in the laundry room to help whenever he's not sure. And it feels stupid sometimes, but at this point it's just about making sure that he can do things done, no matter how they get there.

Luke runs the light colors first with only a handful of delicates. The darks is a larger pile, but he's worried if he runs them first something will get left behind and stain.

By the time he gets lights out of the dryer and starts to transfer over the darks into the machine, you knock on the door modeling. Luke smiles as he looks up, letting the few things in his hand, drop into the dryer. "How was your nap?"

"It was good." You spy the basket full of light colored clothes and go to pick it up but Luke's vocalizations to get you to drop the basket stop you.

"I got it. How about I draw you a bath once I get all these into the dryer?"

"Luke, you don't have to."

"But I want to," he counters, head dropping to make sure the shirt in his hands can go into the dryer. It can't so he drapes it onto the pile on the side of other things that need to get hung up to dry.

"Will you join me?" you ask, hiking up the basket in his distraction.

"If you'd like."

"I would."

When Luke turns, he sees the basket in your hands. "Hey, I told you I was going to do that."

"Well if you're joining me in a bath, you're going to need help folding clothes."

For a moment, he glares at you, but when you don't back down he hiccups out a laugh. "Fine, I guess."

*****

The water's warm as you step into it, Luke's already submerged, pressed up against the back wall. You settle between his legs and let the bubbles lap up against your chest. Luke encases your waist once you're under the water with his arms. The bubbles smell like lavender as the scent softly creeps up your nose.

There's not many words. Not even as Luke kisses across your shoulder and his fingers skate across the skin of your side. You sigh at the feeling and sink further into him. "I'm sorry again," he whispers against your ear.

"I accept your apology," you return just as quiet. "We'll just have to figure something out. Like we always do."

Luke smiles for a moment. Like we always do. Because you two always do. You manage to work things out and come out better. He just wished it wasn't always something to fix. he wished that he could get it together without it falling apart. It felt like a leaky boat sometimes, just scoping out enough water to keep afloat.

He just barely catches the feel of your hands running over his thighs and he shivers. And it's just stillness for a moment, maybe even two. But you stretch up and turn just a hair to kiss him. And Luke lets himself go into the kiss. His hands wander your body, gripping at the flesh and it's just enough pressure to make you moan, just enough of squeeze to make you give into the tingly that runs down your spine.

The water sloshes just a little as you spin all the way around, climbing onto his lap. You're thankful for such a large bathtub right now as your arms wind around his neck and you find his lips again in a kiss. It's slow, not rushed in any sense, but still dizzying. You pull away from Luke and he chases you down.

A giggle falls from your lips. "Thank you," you whisper. "For doing this. But for also working hard to make this relationship work."

Luke should be used to the patience, to the gratitude. But it still blows him away everytime you are firm, but willing to help. "Thank you. For, like, literally everything."

You two share another kiss, deeper than the last and you ever so gently rock against Luke's length. Luke groans into the kiss. "Please," he says so softly against your neck, his lips barely closing around your skin to give you kisses.

"Hmm," you start with a devilish grin crossing your lips. "Please, what? I need words."

His fingers dig into your hips and the air's leaving his lungs at the feeling of you against him. With a firm grip onto his hair, you tilt his head back. His eyes are blown but he smiles at you. "Of course you need words," he finally responds.

You quirk an eyebrow--a warning. But Luke's never needed more than that to get back in line.

"Please fuck me," he finally returns.

"That's more like it," you smile and seal his lips in a kiss briefly. "I'm more than happy too."

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings blurb #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings 5sos #5sos #h writes #5sos fanfic #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings fic #5sos smut #5sos fic #5sso blurb #5sos imagine

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Study Sessions

Calum’s always wanted to go back to school and it’s the first midterm that makes him realize just how long it’s been since he’s been in a class. Thankfully, Noa’s nice, albeit a little too organized, and more than happy to help. 

Who asked for a 21 page long fic about Calum, Valentine’s Day, smut, and poetry? Bc I got one hot off the presses. 

There is 18+ content in this fic. Please, no one under the age of 18 interacting or reading. Thank you!

You can support me on ko-fi. I’m saving up for graduate school.

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Noa really wants to kick herself. She always left her pencil pouch in the front zipper of her backpack. Everything had a system; everything had a place with Noa. The placement of the full-length mirror in the corner of the dorm room, the cleaning supplies, the rotation of who cleaned what, making sure her books were always in the same spot, and always, always putting the pencil pouch in the front zipper of her backpack was important to Noa. She was sure it drove her roommate up the wall in their dorm room. But Brooklyn, Noa’s roommate, could be just as anal retentive about the trash and boxes from their addictive online shopping, and keeping the room free other people past 11 pm. Their crazies matched. So things worked out well. 

Maybe Noa was panicking a little too much about a pencil pouch. That didn’t really matter though. Her system was out of whack and she would have to backtrack to the science building on the other side of campus before making a loop and going to the library after class. Her printer refused to print properly and while it was annoying having to go to the library at the end of the day to type up and print out her notes to study later, it made catching group dinner with her friends easier on Thursday’s because she didn’t leave the west side of campus to go to her dorm. This did, however, mean that when Noa was going to get a lot more steps in today. Not bad, but not ideal. 

This also means that she’s going to have to use a laptop. She hated using her laptop because it meant she’d have to rewrite her notes so there were no gaps in her notebook. Noa could see that it was a very contrived system--at the end of the day, all she needed were the notes. That’s it. But it mattered to the deep recesses of her mind. It had to flow from handwritten notes to her laptop, no matter how she had to backtrack 

“Here, I have an extra.” 

Noa blinks at the hushed voice. A black pen slides in next to her open notebook. The hand is tan and tattooed. She knows those initials anywhere. Calum. She smiles and looks up to him, even if the shadows cover his face thanks to the bucket hat. It’s a staple she’s noticed over the course of the semester. “Thanks. Promise I won’t steal it,” Noa grins. 

Calum exhales his laughter. “I’d be a little upset but they are really good pens to write with. So I’d understand.”

“I’m a woman of my word, though. So you won’t have to chase me down.” Noa dates the top right corner of her blank page and then pulls out her book. She hates the book. She wasn’t able to get a copy to rent and had to kick out 50 bucks for the anthology for class, one she never really use again either. 

Calum gives a hum in response, his own pen twirling around his fingers. The professor, a man in his late sixties at the youngest, with thinning white hair and thick circular glasses walks in through the doors. There’s still five minutes before class starts and the chatter amongst students quiets just a little but doesn’t stop. Calum looks to her notebook, the way she’s written the poet’s name at the top of the page, her handwriting is tight together with a lot of width for each letter. It’s pretty with a little mess to it.  

He’s noticed that she normally uses purple ink for her notes and part of him feels bad for not having a purple pen for her. “Sorry it’s not a purple pen,” Calum states turning to face her. 

How the hell did Calum notice that? Sure she had a color for every class she took each semester. But surely no one else would’ve noticed that. It had only been three weeks of the semester. No one could’ve known that besides her group of friends and her roommate. “No, no, it’s okay. I forgot my pencil pouch in my last class so you really saved me from having to use my laptop.”

“Don’t like it?”

Noa shakes her head, feeling some of her Senegalese twists falling from the bun she put it up into on her walk across campus. Though this part of campus was walkable the heat of summer was dry and it took no prisoners some days. “I remember everything better if I write it down in my own words instead of just typing everything down the professor says. It’s like I’m not learning anything.”

He gives another nod. Though Calum studied for his high school diploma on some late nights, on tour buses, hell even in the studio, he liked sitting in class. He liked processing things and attempting to get the right words together to understand the core of things. He liked the sense of normalcy. It was nice to be learning not just from a textbook but from everyone else in the room. Sure this is just a poetry class, and sure he hadn’t really known what to expect with a title like “Modern Poetry from 1920” but he was straddled in and was surely going to see until the very end. 

Before Calum can respond, the professor clears their throat. He fishes his book out of his bag too and flips to the poems that he read the night before. “Hope everyone’s having a great day,” the professor starts. Even from the fifth row of the tiny room, Calum notices the shakes in the older man’s hands. The room is full of three to four gray rectangular tables pushed together to create rows. They sit two at each table comfortably. Each row sits about forty students comfortably. 

“A quick reminder, your first midterm is next week. All the poets we’ve discussed including today’s poet is going to be material that I will pull questions from. I’ll be providing the excerpts if a question calls for it. I’m saving about ten minutes at the end of class for us to discuss it more in-depth.” 

With a quick dab to the corners of his mouth, he finds a volunteer to read the first poem up for discussion. Once the first reading is concluded, the professor looks around for another person to read. Noa lifts her gaze and she locks eyes with the professor. A fucking rookie mistake. Something she knew better of in her eighteen years of being in school. But here she is making it. They smile at her and point at her. “Miss Noa, right? Why don’t you read for us?”

With a nervous habit of biting her pens, Noa puts Calum’s pen down and picks at her nails underneath the table. She nods and lets her eyes drift down to the page. “When over the flowery, sharp pasture’s/ edge, unseen, the salt ocean/lifts its form.” Her voice is a little shaky and though William Carlos Williams's poem is short, she becomes more confident by the end. 

Calum watches her reading more than he listens. In the three weeks classes have started, she’s never read. Neither has he. But it’s already a little awkward to walk around campus, being in a classroom isn’t too bad but it’s a confined space. He knows people are looking. He knows that they know who he is. He does what he can do just blend in and even hide. He likes listening to her reading. Her insights in class have always kind of blown Calum away too, now that he thinks about it. 

As discussion opens up, Calum finds himself taking fewer notes than usual and waiting for Noa to speak again. She doesn’t say much about the first poem but the second about the death of a cat she cuts in to make reference to Robert Frost’s poem. “I know there’s a literal connection of fire and ice in each poem but there’s death in both pieces too. Frost and Williams’ are on opposite ends of the same spectrum in a way. Williams is talking about fleas that couldn’t escape death and Frost mentions that nature is powerful that if it doesn’t take you with the sweeping fire then it will swallow you up with water. Williams's titled his piece, ‘Complete Destruction,’ and he details the destruction of a pet, of maybe even memories. While Frost is more metaphorical with some religious undertones too about the destruction of society and earth.”

Calum grins a little, watching the way she shrugs at the end of her thought. As much as if she weren’t so sure of herself. When she glances over to him, he nods at her, writing down a condensed version of her thought. The class goes on and the professor ends early like they stated. There are a few questions about the style of the midterm but not too many about the content. So the professor pulls up a small canvas bag. “Before you leave, feel free to grab a piece of candy. I know it’s Valentine’s Day and you guys may or may not still have classes after this. So I hope it helps your day just a little. I have chocolate and non-chocolate options.”

He upturns the bag gently, shaking the wrapped candies onto the table next to the podium. Laptops are shut, people get up to venture to the candy. Noa slides the black pen across the gray table to Calum. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Without much thinking, in the shuffle of packing up belongings, Noa lets what she intends to be just a thought fall over her lips. “I haven’t had a Valentine’s in so long, candy from a professor feels special,” she jokes. 

Calum laughs a little, pocketing the pens and stands. “What’s your poison?”

Noa looks up at him, the cut of his jaw and the soft smile on his lips, puffing out his cheeks. “I’m a dark chocolate fan. But anything chocolate is fine.”

He nods and shuffles, backpack thrown up over one shoulder. Calum gets to the table and picks up what he estimates to be the two biggest Hershey's kisses on the table. He picks up one for himself too. Noa finally gets her backpack zipped and she slides out from between the tables. Calum drops the kisses into her hands when she pauses at the door to the classroom. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Her heart shouldn’t flutter like it does when Calum smiles at her. She pulls the twists down and slips the silk tie around her wrist. “I’m sure you’ve got someone to get too. But thanks, though.”

Calum pushes open the door to the English building and holds it open for her. “See that’s where you might be a little wrong on your analysis.”

Noa scuffs, attempting to bite back the smile. The kiss doesn’t last long before she’s biting into the candy. She shakes her head. The joke is cheesy but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t like it. “I won’t be won over by academic pickup lines.”

They pause at the end of the pathway that leads up to the building. Students are carrying on around them, to and fro they scuttle across the asphalt and brick. “Do you have another class after this?” Calum asks. 

“No, it’s my last one of the day.”

“Since we’re both lonely on Valentine’s Day, do you mind if we study together? For the midterm? It would really seal our fates.”

Noa nods. Who is she to say no to Calum Hood? She could say no of course and it’s as the breeze kicks up another heavy and slightly stale pocket of hot air that she’s reminded of her misplaced pencil pouch. “Shit, I have to go to the science building. I left my pencil pouch there. I have no clue if there’s another class in there and like I need that.”

“I-I can walk with you. If you’d like. I don’t get to see much of the campus.” Calum keeps his schedule to Monday, Wednesday, Friday. He’s here from about eleven to four most days and then he heads back home. Hanging around campus would only serve to get Calum caught but he knows it might be awkward to offer his place to study. 

“Are you sure? It’s kind of far and I’m not a slow walker.”

Readjusting his hold on his strap, Calum nods. “Lead the way.”

Noa ties her hair back. “Less scenic route to get there. More scenic route on the way back.” When she steps, it’s more like a run. Noa cuts straight across, over the grass and dodging the bushes. Calum wasn’t sure what he was expecting but her power walking like his mother when they go to the grocery store wasn’t it. He keeps up though, regrettably passing by the dogs playing fetch without cooing at them. 

They cut behind buildings. A less-traveled path Calum can tell but it’s well known amongst though that have to use it to get to and from classes. He watches the others power walking past him and he’s glad he was able to keep most of his classes in buildings close together. Though parking was terrible and required him parking sometimes a block away, it was better than this walk, especially on the short time they had between classes. 

His thighs start to burn just a little when they reach the towering brick building. It looks almost like every other building on campus, minus the sign hammered into the ground--it’s the only thing that denotes its uniqueness. Noa takes the front stairs two at a time. “Holy shit, how do you do this every other day and still live?” he huffs once they enter. The lights are bright against the sterile white tiles and marble. Another marker, he notes, the older buildings on campus have dimmer light, less white. This has a more modern feel to it. 

“I don’t. I die about three minutes into the walk.”

He’s laughter leaves him in bursts, as he attempts to get his breathing back. Thankfully she stays on the first floor. Any more stairs and Calum’s sure he would’ve just opted to wait at the doors for her. The room she stops at does have some students piling in but she doesn’t stop for too long. When Noa ducks her head inside, she notices her pencil pouch sitting on a folding chair at the back of the lecture hall. Not where she left it. But she’s glad she doesn’t have to go sifting through some three hundred seats in the classroom. 

She’s quick to grab it. She can feel the eyes of the other students looking at her. Because she doesn’t raise a ruckus, the stares don’t last long and she closes the door quietly behind her. “You all good?” Calum asks. 

She holds the black pouch with roses up and grins. “All good. I just hope I didn’t kill you with that trek.”

He watches her slip into the front pocket. “I mean, I died about two minutes into it. But I’m okay now.”

Noa sucks on her teeth, a tsk falling over her lips. “Gotta keep at it. You’ll be a pro at it in no time. Is the library cool? Doubling seal our fates?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The walk back is less intense. They take the asphalt paths and go the long way around in front of buildings. They stop for a moment to just watch the dogs running on the green. They loop back around to the English building and continue on down past it. “So are you getting a degree or auditing classes?” Noa asks. 

“Auditing. I thought about going back full time but it works better for me to just audit them. The whole getting grading thing still kind of gets to me.” Calum likes to fulfill his curiosity. He just didn’t want the fear of failing to hinder him. And while he had loaded his schedule at nine credits, which was only three classes, it was more than enough. He was tempted to drop one of his classes and though Calum wasn’t super fond of the intro to psychology class, he wanted to tough it out. Prove to himself that he didn’t have to avoid the obstacle but could instead tackle it head-on.

Noa gives a hum. “Gives you time to still work on music?”

“Yeah.” He isn’t shocked that she knows. He is glad though that she doesn’t treat him differently. That she hasn’t made a huge deal of his fame. He wishes he could cloak that, at least here at school. “What about you? What are you studying?”

“I was Community Health Sciences. I switched to Public Affairs last year. So I have another semester tacked.”

The trek to the library feels somehow too short and too long at the same time. Calum’s sure it’s his thighs still angry at the stairs to get inside the science building. He learns she has an older brother and that’s she the first one in her family to go to college. She worries about the extra semester and the finances but her parents have encouraged her to keep going. Noa finds out that Calum has a dog and if he had to pick something to study it would probably be in English. He could see himself in Religious Studies. Calum’s not sure though and he’s glad he doesn’t have to be sure. He can just take whatever for the moment. 

Inside the library, Noa goes to make a beeline for the open computers and then stops. “We can book a study room? I’m not sure if you just want to be, like out in the open?”

Calum looks around. It’s nearing about 5 in the evening. No one is really in the library. Most people have plans. There’s no reason to sit inside the library on Valentine’s Day when one can drink in sorrows or be out celebrating. “Whichever you prefer.”

“Let’s just get a room. I doubt anyone’s going to be hanging out here on a day like this. But I doubt you’ll be back here at all. So why not go for the full experience? The only thing you're missing is final’s week and hunkering down in a study room where you pull an all-nighter and show up to your class in your pj’s and with your pillow in your backpack.”

He doesn’t want to believe that actually happens. But she says it so matter of factly. “You’re kidding right?”

“I am speaking from experience.” She walks one of the open computers and pulls out her laptop. She logs into both of them and then pulls up the scheduling system for the various study rooms located throughout the library. “We can only technically schedule in thirty-minute blocks for up to two hours. But there’s a trick around that.”

Calum logs in as he’s instructed to do on her laptop and they agree on a room. She books it, for every hour and when the blocks show up gray for Calum on his refresh, he goes in and books it for every half hour so that they have the room from 5 to 8. “So the library has pretty strict rules about noise. Generally, the higher the level you are the quieter you have to be. The second floor is as far as I go. You can talk inside the study rooms but nothing super chatty unlike the ground floor,” Noa explains on their ascent. “I have my notes from the other classes printed out. And I was going to type up the notes from today before working on a study guide. How does that sound?”

“Anything sounds good right about now because I literally have no clue how I’m supposed to study for this at all.”

Noa grins, cracking open the door to their room. It’s tucked towards the back of the floor, in a corner. It’s behind the bathrooms and not too far from the stairs so it’s not hard to navigate to and from for bathroom or snacks located in the vending machines on the first floor. “Trust me that’s my entire college experience. You kind of figure out what works best for you as you go along.”

The room isn’t big by any means. The white table sits in the middle of it with two trash cans near the door and a whiteboard that holds the left behind lettering of study sessions past is the complete setup, not including the four chairs pushed into the conference length table. Noa drops her bag into a chair and finds her pencil pouch, she pulls out a couple dry erase markers and an eraser in a plastic bag. 

“Do you want to write down the different poets we’ve studied on the board? Start there at the very least.” 

Calum, putting his bag down in the free chair, nods. It’s when he glances down at his phone just to check the time that he worries for a moment that he should get home to Duke but after shooting a quick text to his roommate he confirms that someone is there to take him out and feed him. Noa opens up her laptop, notebook and pulls the textbook out too from the depths of her backpack. 

Calum’s handwriting is mostly uppercase and narrow. But it’s mostly neat. The markers thankfully don’t squeak on the board. He draws columns for each poet, thinking that will at least help contain the guaranteed mess of ideas during this window. He even goes a step further and creates squares for each poem, scribbling down the titles into corners 

The room’s not even that hot, while Calum browsing through his notes. Noa’s been typing for a while since he finished setting up the drawing board. But suddenly from the walk around his jacket is too warm. He knew he shouldn’t have worn it but out of some sort of habit, out of routine, Calum snagged the extra layer and now he was regretting it. It’s like his body finally caught up and he slips out of it. 

“I thought we were studying, not getting a show,” Noa teases. The thought slips through her lips with a grin. She’ll admit that she does find Calum attractive. Most times he didn’t really flaunt his body or even his status in class and that made him even more attractive. But she didn’t think she’d ever have a shot. She didn’t really think she had one now all things considered but he was the one that asked her for help. But he had started it and she was just going to see if it would continue. 

Calum feels the heat immediately flooding his cheeks. “It’s just warm, is all.” 

“Kidding, sorry.” Her gaze flicks up from her screen. Her fingers are still going, the taps echoing amongst the silence of their room. 

Calum recognizes that gaze, the smirk that tells him she is joking, but she is also not joking if he’s willing to take that step. Calum goes back to his laptop, he’s on nothing right now just staring at a blank google doc. But he makes the initiative to break the tension and ask her what her school email was. “We can just use a Google doc to make things easier.”

As she rattles it off, Calum adds her. Maybe Noa completely misread this. Maybe he really only wanted to help to study. It definitely was a hit to her pride. She almost felt like a deflated balloon as she typed down the last bullet point in her notes. “I’m going to print these out. I’ll be right back.”

Calum nods, watching her leave with her laptop in hand. His brows knit together. She sounded hurt and Calum feels like he could absolutely kick himself. Of course, he found Noa attractive. He would’ve made a move and even though he wasn’t technically getting a grade for this midterm he wanted to at least feel confident going into. God, he was an idiot. Even after all the partying, and all the girls before, Calum still finds a way to fuck something up--even innocent flirty. 

Standing at the printer, Noa exhales. Just a hit to her pride, a hard hit too. But she wouldn’t chicken out. That’s for sure. She’d march back up there and she’d see this study session through. She could do that much. Maybe she could convince the girl to her left to switch seats come Monday. That way at the very least she wouldn’t feel awful going to class. She couldn’t drop the class now--not without a Withdraw showing up on her record. Professors weren’t too keen on adding students this late into the semester. Withdrawing, would thankfully, not hurt her graduation credit hours.

She almost wants to laugh. Just because some guy rejected her does not mean she had to drop a class. All she had to do was keep a level head about all of this. Even though asking to switch seats would be blasphemous, she still enjoyed the class. It was one of the few classes she could take each semester that were just for fun. She would not give that up just because Calum turned her down. As the last of the pages spits out from the printer, she grabs her stack. All she has to do is go over the notes. They don’t even have to stay in the room until 8. 

The stairwell is stuffy as she ascends back to the second floor. She’s always hated them in the summer, the way the air clung to the sweat and humidity of the temperatures outside. Noa wasn’t sure who designed it but it was only ever the library stairs that felt so awful in the summer and even the early fall. She can see Calum with his head in his hands from the glass walls that separate open library from the study room. For half a second, she wonders if something is wrong--like with his dog. If that were the case, he could’ve just left. 

“You alright?” she asks opening the door. 

Calum, not even hearing the door, pops his head up. His heart thunders in his chest. He was wallowing in his own misery a little too deeply. “Yeah-yeah, I’m good.”

With a nod, Noa pulls at the silk tie around her twist and stares up at the quadrants on the whiteboard. “So the best place to start studying is just as the beginning of the coursework. Lame I know. But professors usually start there for a reason.”

There goes his window. Gone all within two minutes to print notes. He nods and flips to the starting poet. “So we have Frost,” Calum starts, the blue dry erase marker semi firmly gripped between his fingers. 

“Start with basics. The year he was born, maybe what his life was like, his most famous works.” 

Calum spins his chair to face the whiteboard, attempting to recall some of the biography from memory. It’s when the lulls hit that Noa steps in. He hears the table creak but he doesn’t turn. He can almost feel her leaning into it. He can see just how the tops of her exposed thighs, not dared to be hidden by her denim shorts, would squeeze and smush against the end of the table. The weather is still warm. It’s still perfect weather for shorts and skirts. 

He turns his attention back to the task at hand though, listening to Noa speak behind him. “I’ve had this professor before. He’s a kind of lenient grader. But he wants to make sure you can back your shit up with context from the poem. You can’t say someone’s trying to talk about rainbows in their poem when they’re clearly allusions to chickens.”

Calum snorts at her point but nods. “Understood. Now this is going to sound dumb--”

Noa’s quick to cut him off. “No such thing as dumb questions.”

Calum turns, seeing her leaning on her hands on the table. One knee is resting on the chair she once sat. Her gaze is stuck on the whiteboard. For a brief second, Calum lets his gaze fall. The jade green of her top nestled against her dark skin and the way her breasts are almost threatening to spill over the flimsy material almost makes Calum forget his question. She was not wearing that before. She wore a white shirt, tied in the front. There was something green underneath it--he knows that. He clears his throat. “I assume you don’t mean illusions like magic tricks and I’m a little confused.”

Noa finally brings her gaze back down, pushing back upright realizing the position she’s in. “Allusions, they’re like indirect references. So you’re talking about a thing without actually stating what it is.” She picks up a different colored marker and writes the word down in the corner of the whiteboard not holding any information. 

Calum watches the way her undershirt rises a little as she stretches up to write but flicks his gaze to the floor. “Think he’ll ask about those on the midterm?”

“He could,” she says and then leans against the table again. Calum stands. She’s too close and he’s at a bad angle to keep his focus on the material at hand. 

Facing the spread of her notes, their laptops, and textbooks, Calum looks out over the sea without really seeing any of the details. He wants to make a move that shows he’s interested without it being too subtle or too brazen. Resting his weight onto his palms, he shakes the thought from his head. It’s probably too late now. “So, like, for example, a question could be what are allusions in whatever poem of his choice?”

“Yeah, but he’ll probably ask something more like compare and contrast.” Calum nods. He definitely feels a bit better about going into this exam than he did before. But he still feels like an idiot with Noa. 

Noa turns her head just a little. Not a lot. Just enough to see the bucket hat still on his head and the way his face is almost entirely hidden. She knows though. She knows the cut of his jaw and the way his lips are a little chapped but mostly plump. As she stares at him, she does feel the urge to apologize. At least just to let him know that she didn’t mean to cross any lines and that she hopes there are no hard feelings. She can feel her heart thumping in her throat as she gently rests a hand on his shoulder. 

“Sorry about earlier,” she whispers. His head never raises and she drops her touch before going back to the whiteboard. “That was a poor taste joke.”

Calum’s breath hitches. It catches right on his inhale and he nearly chokes on it. “You don’t have to apologize.” His voice is soft, so much so that she barely catches it before turning to grab her phone to take a picture of their notes on the board. 

“What?” She’s not believing her own ears. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I thought--I was sure I had crossed a line.”

“No, it didn’t make me uncomfortable.” His gaze is soft when it lands on her. Her brows are pulled together and he has to stop his hand from raising to smooth them over with his thumb. He feels the twitch, the pull to take her hand and he lets himself to that. Just gently brushing his fingers over her hand pressed into the table next to his. 

“But-what?” She could’ve sworn the way he diverted the topic was a sign that she was pressing her luck. 

“Really, I didn’t mind. I don’t mind.”

Noa shakes her head, the twist slipping over her shoulder a little. “I know I’m not a math major but this isn’t adding up.”

Calum really can’t tear his gaze away from her lips. They glisten a little, dark brown and a hint of pink from the saliva on her tongue as she licks them. It’s really lame, he thinks, that he’s this hesitant to make a move on her. But she hasn’t pulled away from him just yet so that must mean something. Maybe he could show her what he meant. “Is-Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Fuck. Oh fuck. Noa nods, she’s sure her eyes are blown wide. She’s not sure however that she’s breathing properly until the whisper of “Yes” falls from her lips. They inch closer together. Like stuttering traffic that stops and starts and soon there’s no more space to be hesitant. Their lips brush, slightly parted too. He can smell the chocolate she had earlier and it’s so sweet in his nose. Before the first kiss truly ends Calum reaches for her waist, turning her into him. He leans into the table, his back facing the door, and she leans into him. 

Her arms loop around his neck, nails trailing at the edge of his t-shirt and his neck. It sends a shiver down his spine when her nails scratch at his skin. Calum encases her waist with his arms, pulling her into him. Her kiss tastes like the Hershey kiss and her skin is so soft beneath his fingers. When he breathes in, his nostrils are lined with the smell of coconut. An intoxicating scent if he’s going to associate it with her at all. 

The sounds of their kisses, lips meeting and pulling apart before meeting again echo slightly around the room. She reaches up, pulling away from his lips just a little. Calum stretches out for her though, capturing her bottom lip between his teeth. She laughs, mostly from her chest before she gives in and recaptures his lips. 

His cologne isn’t too strong. It’s got a hint of musky to it with some more floral overtones and Noa thinks she has to figure out the exact scent because she would love to just bathe in it. She doesn’t stop her previous movements though and pulls the hat up. Calum ducks his face into her shoulder and chest. 

She didn’t expect a buzz cut but it looks good and she runs her hands over the back of his head. “Can’t kiss you if your face is buried in my shoulder.”

“But I can kiss you,” he counters, gently capturing the juncture of her neck and shoulder between his lips. The touch is so feather-light, almost as if her skin were made of glass. But it makes her hot and her heart strums steadily in her chest. It’s almost sad how the softest touch is turning her own. She’s glad for the moment Calum can’t see what effect this is having on her. It’s shameful how wet her underwear is. 

Noa lets her head go as Calum kisses across her throat too, his tongue trails after the places his lips have touched first. Her hair brushes over Calum’s fingers, as they start to travel down to her ass, cupping her over the denim shorts. They hardly do much to stop the imagination from running wild. His fingertips run across her skin, digging into the crevice between the line of her ass and the tops of her thighs. 

A moan escapes her. Noa doesn’t even feel the shame anymore. Not as her hand reaches between their bodies and trails up his chest. She cups his throat and pushes him up. His grin is lazy on his face, eyes heavy with lust. “So I see you really didn’t mind.”

“Not at all.” The vibrations of his voice tickle her palm but she doesn’t drop the hold and Calum doesn’t duck away from it. Would Noa let herself go? She could attempt to bring Calum back to her dorm though she’s not sure if Brooklyn is in the room. If so, that’s definitely an awkward shuffle to text Brooklyn and then walk all the way back to her room. 

She drops her hand from his throat, before running it up under his shirt. He tenses for a moment at her touch but grins. Noa decides not to think too much about where things go and where they wind up at the moment. Instead, she kisses at his neck, running her tongue over his adam’s apple. Calum has to bite his lip just a little to keep the groan from escaping him so loudly. He knows she knows just what she’s doing as her nail scratch at his lower abdomen right along the band of his boxer briefs.

“I have another question,” Calum asks, a soft sigh escaping his lips when she kisses up to his ear. 

“Which is?”

“I can only assume we’re not studying poetry anymore. But I just want to make sure it’s okay if I study your anatomy?”

Noa snorts, her laughter shaking her shoulders as she presses her face into Calum’s chest. “I told you I wouldn’t be won over by academic pick up lines but I’ll be damned if you don’t keep trying.”

“They seemed to work,” Calum takes the sides of her face into his hands. There’s still a grin on her face when she lets him pull her upwards a little. “Is that a yes though in all seriousness?”

“That’s a yes,” she sighs, enjoying the slight roughness at the tips of his fingers as he brushes them over her cheeks. 

“How likely are we to get caught in here?”

“If we don’t make too much noise, pretty low. I mean, who else is coming to the library on Valentine’s Day?”

Calum presses her in close before pushing up with his hips and spinning them around. He clears away a spot before hoisting her to the table. “I must admit, I like the sounds of those odds.”

Calum stands between her legs. She spies a set of chains around his neck and pulls them out, gently holding the gold and silver chains in her palms. She’s not sure what they mean, the symbols on the black enamel or the gold plate but they look good hanging around his chest. “Sentimental?”

Calum runs his fingers over the strip of skin just under the edge of her green tank top and the top of her shorts. “Yeah.”

The subject is dropped rather quickly and she kisses the underside of his jaw. Her fingers find the hem of Calum’s t-shirt. He pulls the black tee up without much thought and she lets her hands wander of the expanse of his chest. She lingers at his tattoos. She doesn’t question those either. Just admires them and the way the black ink stands out on his golden skin. There’s a moment, in the back of her mind, that she’s acutely aware of how much darker she is compared to him. It's a thing she’s always been aware of for sure, it’s a general fact about herself that is generally inescapable. But she’s not sure why it matters now. 

Calum can see her mind wandering and he tips her chin. “You can always say no. It’s okay.” He doesn’t want her to feel pressured. It won’t hurt him at all if she backs out of this. He’d rather her protect herself than worry about him. 

“It’s just--a thing, a small thing. Nothing to do about this.”

“You sure?” 

Noa nods, flicking her twists over her shoulder. Calum raises an eyebrow at her, a silent question. “I’m very sure,” she says, tugging at the band of his pants. 

There’s a soft chuckle he gives and nods, satisfied with her answer. “I was going to break out another taboo pickup line.”

Noa gets a grip around his neck and brings him down. Her kiss is soft and slow before she pulls back just a little. Their lips brush as she speaks. “As much as I hate those, they are effective. So I hate that fact a little more.”

Calum dares to bring his hands down, under the shorts and underwear. What he finds makes him groan into her lips. She’s dripping onto his fingers. “Very effective,” he whispers, teasing her heat with his fingers as he collects just a little taste of her onto his fingers. She watches through slightly hooded eyes as Calum licks his fingers. “God,” he huffs. 

He goes back to get yank the shorts and panties. She pushes herself up to assist and Calum wastes no time slipping down to his knees. Noa reclines back, hands pressing down into the table and the edge of a notebook. Calum takes a generous lick from her. She’s sweet on his tongue and all he wants is to drown in the arousal she drips. 

Noa shudders at the first touch and she’s glad she’s facing the whiteboard and not the window because the look on her face, of pleasure and also desperation is a sight for sore eyes. It’s been a long time since she’s been with anyone. Her breakup sophomore year kind of scorned her. She’s had the offers at parties or even out at bars, but never took them. Right now, the way she’s responding to Calum should be embarrassing but it’s the last thought on her mind. 

All Noa wants and can think about is how Calum’s tongue flicks against her clit, the way his lips wrap around it to give it a gentle suck before planting a kiss. “Shit,” she heaves, trying to keep from being too loud. It’s not lost on her that too much noise will get them caught. But god is her rock shaking at the feeling of Calum’s tongue working at her. It’s going to be the end of her, she thinks, staring up at the ceiling attempting to keep her breathing under control. 

Calum feels her thighs starting to shake and he throws them over his shoulder. She falls deeper into her recline. Every lewd slurp echoes. The first finger into her is all too easy to get inside and he works the second one in while teasing her clit with his tongue. It’s a moment, with a breathy instruction of “Back and up,” before he’s brushing over her g-spot. Her vision spots for a moment and she presses her lips together to swallow down her own moan. 

“Fuck,” she whines when Calum sucks at her clit. The knot in her stomach grows, she can feel the heat radiating from the top of her head to her toes. She’s going to make a mess. She can feel it bubbling in her lower stomach but she can’t find the words to warn him as she works to keep her cries in her chest. 

It’s evident though when she finds the edge and falls over it. Her legs close in around Calum’s head. He works her through the orgasm, gentle licks. Calum kisses over her inner thighs before pulling his fingers from her. She’s spent above him, panting. But she stops him-- a hand tight around his wrist and brings his fingers to her mouth. 

“You wouldn’t?”

Noa says nothing before licking her own arousal from his fingers. Calum shouldn’t be so turned on by her tasting herself but he swears he could nearly come from just the way she hums around his digits. It makes him wonder for a moment what else she can do with that tongue. She grins when she releases his fingers from her mouth with a lewd pop. “I would.” 

Calum stays on his knees, watching carefully as she slips off the table and back into her underwear and shorts. She taps at the chair. “Take a seat.”

He pushes up and into the chair. “You really could’ve just left those off.”

Noa bites her lip at the thought. “Even though I’m young, I’m not dumb. I never re-upped on condoms in my backpack and unless you have some. I think you’ll be pleased with my compromise.”

Calum mimes zipping his lips shut and tossing away the key. He nearly forgot about that and that’s not a risk he wants to take either. No matter much the idea seems tempting he knows that the potential consequences are not worth it. Noa doesn’t waste any time, to tie her hair back or get Calum’s pants and underwear down either. She’s not really sure what she expected but he’s more than he lets on and her mouth drools at the thought. 

She kisses his tip, the tip leaking just a little. Calum sighs, dropping his head back on his neck. He doesn’t really want her to tease him like this. But it does feel good. How gentle she’s being. The way she’s slow to coat him with her saliva. He exhales harshly when he slips into her mouth and when she doesn’t stop but continues on Calum groans. “Fucking hell.” It’s as if she could just swallow him whole and her mouth is so warm too. 

Noa hums a little at the taste and weight of him. She looks at through her lashes and keeps her eyes nice and big, playing innocent at the way Calum huffs above her. He blinks his eyes just enough to see her batting her lashes and he’s so tempted again to pull out of her mouth and just fuck her right here. He’s sure her pussy is just as good as her mouth, if not better. Another moan is crawling up his chest and Calum inhales to keep it from falling over his lips. She pulls back from him, swirling her tongue just around the top. Her fist pumps at him. Calum knows he won’t last. His head is starting to float and he’s reaching out for anything and everything to keep ground. 

He finds Noa instead, the very thing lifting his consciousness from his body. But it’s all he has to attempt to ground him. Calum lets one choked moan fall over his lips. “God,” he heaves like he’s been underwater for too long and is getting the first gulps of air again. His eyes screw up as she takes him back down and bobs her head along his length. The sounds of her slurping up her excess saliva are a little loud but he prays that they don’t echo too much before he cums. 

That’s all he wants. Just release. That bliss of orgasm. His toes are curling and he’s holding a little tighter to Noa he knows. But he can’t help it. His hips raise up from the seat, bucking into her and she has to readjust her angle to keep him down. But Calum’s so fucking close. He can feel it. His thighs are tensing and he’s nearly in tears with how badly he desires to cum. She’s toying with him, speeding up to build up that pressure--that need, but slowing down just enough to keep it far enough away. 

“Oh, please, please,” he begs. There is definitely a prickle of tears. Noa knows she’s playing with fire but she pulls back one last time, watching the way his jaw tense and he hisses, the air sucked in between his teeth. “I wasn’t-I wasn't this mean to you.”

Noa winks at him. Calum knows he’s going to have to do something to wipe that smirk off her face somehow. “Wanted to see how much you could take.” She says nothing else and finally takes him back into her mouth, hand and mouth pumping at him. He goes barreling towards his orgasm. He halfway expects her to pull away again when he finds his hips bucking again but she doesn’t. Calum holds her head tight and pours down the back of her throat. 

Noa brings him over the edge and she’s gentle, slightly suckling to get down every drop. When she finally brings her head away, she does leave a small kiss. The air is thick and Calum exhales, attempting to bring his vision back into focus. He nearly has to make sure that it’s actually his soul that comes back to him. Noa hands him a tissue and then excuses herself for just a moment to the restroom. 

When she returns, the table is clearned for the most part. Her books are neatly stacked and her laptop is sitting on top of the sleeve. The dry erase markers and erasers sit at the top of her pile too. Calum is dressed again, leaning against the table with the bucket hat back on his head. He watches her open the door with a tiny smile. The whiteboard’s been erased too. “Did you get a picture of the--” Calum nods before she finishes the full question. 

She’s not sure if she should move from the spot at the door but Calum’s gaze is intense so she waits. “I’m not going to bite unless you ask for it,” he grins. “How far away do you stay from here?”

“I live on campus actually. It’s like a fifteen minute walk to the other side.”

“I’m parked not too far from the English building. How about a ride and a round two?”

“For studying poetry or anatomy?” There’s no hiding her grin as she asks the question. 

Calum’s impressed at the wit. “I would say, after what I’ve seen and tasted today, I would call it poetry.”

She has to cast her gaze down. Because if not, she’s going to explode at delivery of the compliment. “Just don’t make any joke about tasting desire twice or I might nickname you Frost and I don’t think you’d appreciate that.”

Calum laughs and reaches out a hand. She takes it, stepping into him. She gazes up, the shadow of the bucket hat making the moment seem more private. “I think that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Of course you are.”

The ride over is nerve wrecking. But the gentle pressure of Calum’s hand on her thigh keeps her just enough on the string that it doesn’t matter. Brooklyn agrees to give her the room until 10. It’s a little after six currently. Plenty of time but still. It’s not fun being sexiled. Noa makes a mental note to grab a few snacks on her next grocery run as a thank you to Brooklyn. The AC blasting in Calum’s car is Noa’s saving grace. The slight chill is welcomed to the warmth still radiating from her body.

She directs him to turn right at the next intersection. “It’s pretty out here,” Calum notes. The buildings follow the same brick patterns as most other buildings on the campus. But there are some trees that stand tall and it feels a little cozy. Noa hums and she directs him down to a parking lot. It’s not that far down from her actual dorm. The walk feels longer though for Noa, feeling Calum right behind her.  Calum follows with quick glances the way her ass shakes a little with her gait. The shorts are definitely higher than they were before and he’s sure that was done purposefully. 

Noa fishes out her keys and swipes into the building before directing Calum up the flight of stairs on the side. Their shoes echo as they ascend. Her room is the first one once they step outside from the stairwell. “I apologize now if it’s a mess,” Noa says with her key in the door. She’s praying that Brooklyn’s side isn’t a disaster.

 Thankfully at the first crack, the room is cool and clean. She carries past one bed to the second pushed against the wall near the window. Calum notes the white and black comforter and the posters decorating her wall. There are string lights and after a moment they twinkle off the white plaster of the walls. 

“Putting on the full works, huh?” Calum drops his hat and bag next to her desk. They shed shoes. Her bed is raised so she pulls out a step stool. 

“Something like that.” 

Calum cups her jaw. “I’m flattered.” Their kisses are still heated but less desperate. Both of them are aware of what’s happening and what’s going to happen. Calum pulls at the knot of her white shirt and pushes it off her shoulders. Maybe it was a little insane. Maybe it was the fact that Calum was a little tired of being lonely on Valentine’s Day even though he hated the whole institution of the holiday.

Whatever it was that brought him here to peeling Noa out of her shirt and revealing her breasts to him didn’t really matter. Because he was okay with it. He cups one of her breasts, teasing the bud with his fingers and he kisses along her neck. He feels her heart races with his tongue. “Love it don’t you?” 

Noa hums, pulling around his shoulders. “Maybe.” 

He laughs into her skin. She climbs up onto the bed first and Calum sheds his shirt before climbing up behind her. On the corner of her desk near the bed, he spies the box of condoms. Multiple boxes actually. He reaches over her to one of them. He’s going to drag this out just to have her begging like she did with him. “This is quite the collection.”

Noa knows part of this is payback but she reaches up running her hands over his sides to get him to come back to her. Calum resists the temptation to look down and kiss her again. If she does all his resolve will break. He studies another box and she lifts her head from her pillow finding one of his nipples and sucking it into her mouth. Two can play this game. And Noa knows that while she’s aching for me, she might have a better chance of riding this game out than Calum. 

Calum drops his head for a moment, letting the electricity of her touch travel up his body. One hand creeps up to his crotch, putting just enough pressure onto his growing erection. He’s so fucking screwed. Noa kisses across his chest, soft ones that barely make contact with his skin. “I’m going to be giving a pop quiz about the varieties I have. So study up,” she jokes before pulling her hand away. 

His laughter is soft above her. “I won’t be won over by academic pickup lines.”

“You were being stubborn and I had to try something.”

“You teased me. Don’t dish out what you can’t handle.”

“I can handle plenty,” she retorts pushing at his shoulder. 

Calum straddles her lower legs, popping the button on her shorts yet again. “Is that so?” The question is punctuated by him pulling her shorts and panties off. His fingers waste no time to part her and circle her entrance. Her back sinks into the mattress and her hips rise. Calum catches the small hard exhale of all her air leaving her lungs. 

Calum hovers over her, one arm keeping his weight steady while he teases her. His lips brush over her jaw. “What was that?” His question is answered by a moan that falls over Noa’s throat. He kisses down her throat, sucking just a hair too hard at the thin skin. It doesn’t leave a bruise but when Calum pulls way, there’s a red spot for sure on her skin. 

Noa lets herself be consumed by the way his stubble scratches over her skin. Calum kisses down the valley of her breasts. His teeth graze over her nipples. Maybe he’s better at the game than she thought he was. She liked to think she was tough, but Noa knows deep down the softest touch can turn her into putty. She doesn’t find it within herself to care when he flicks her nipple with the tip of her tongue. 

Calum drinks in every sound. She sounds so good beneath him at the mercy of his whims. Though he knows he’s going to give in soon. Soon his own tough act will dissolve and all he’s want is her to be thoroughly fucked. Calum carries down her body, kissing over her stomach before finding her heat again. All it takes is one lick, bottom to the top and Noa shakes, her thighs quiver and Calum knows he has her. 

Her hands find his neck though. She pulls him up before pushing up and Calum falls into the mattress. She works his pants down and kisses over his thighs as she goes. Her teeth are sharp when she takes a bite, nothing too hard, but it’s enough. It’s enough for Calum to know she’s serious. He’s serious too. His arm hooks around her neck once the pants are fully disrobed. “Come here,” he murmurs and she settles on his lower torso. 

Noa could lose herself in Calum’s kisses and never want to find a map out. Calum traces at her skin with the tips of his fingers as if trying to etch the roadmap of her into his memory. Noa reaches behind and strokes Calum’s length, almost too leisurely, like she knows she can just take her time with him. He lets her too. What else does he have to lose? What else does Calum have to do on such a bullshit holiday than just having some fun?

He does enjoy that this isn’t rushed. He’s also glad he’s not tipsy and neither is she. There’s something about alcohol and sex that never quite worked for Calum, though he’ll admit to some days waking with hickeys and blaming the vodka almost immediately. He likes the intimacy that they share, as crazy as it sounds. Like the way Noa looks at him after they break away from a kiss. She doesn’t look crazed or greedy, her eyes cradle him almost. She traces over his tattoos. 

The questions linger on her lips. Like what does ‘Choose Life’ really mean to Calum? Who was Mali? To whom did those initials belong too? But Noa knew those were questions she couldn’t ask. And she kind of liked the mystery of it. She liked knowing Calum but not getting the full picture. She had the frame. She has the beautiful man in front of her but she didn’t have his mind. She saw bits of it in class for sure. When he finally decided to speak. But that was a piece that would always linger behind the curtain. 

It was still a game for sure. Calum giving away what he wanted to give of himself but keeping everything else. Noa knew better than to think she could win that game. She knew better than to assume she could even be a player. It seemed cliche to think that maybe just maybe she could be the one to change that. That had to be loneliness talking though. It always crept in on days like this. At least for the moment, she was having her own fun. 

Her own fun--that’s all she needs to focus on right now. Noa reaches across Calum’s body to her desk and he uses the moment to bring the nipple and even part of her tit into his mouth, to tease her for just a moment longer. She barely keeps her grip on the box of condoms at the shiver running through her body. “Fuck,” she breathes. 

Calum hums at the praise and pinches her right nipple between his fingers. “You know,” he starts, tracing the swell of her breast with his fingers. “You do this thing when you’re thinking, where you bit the inside of your lip and you kind of zone out.”

Why is Calum so fucking observant? Why did he have to go and say that? He was really digging her grave. He might as well go and build the casket for her too. “I’m not backing out of this.”

“I was just saying,” he hums. 

“When you’re thinking you tend to play with whatever is in your hands,” Noa returns and then glances down her nipple, the way his fingers roll it and pinch. A moan builds in her chest--she can feel it. Calum immediately pulls his hand away. “I never said I didn’t like it.”

The grin that takes over his face is shy. Noa kisses his nose before tearing a condom from it’s foiled package. “How about a ride?” she grins. 

Calum has to laugh at the smirk and corny joke. But he agrees. “I hope I’m tall enough for it.”

“More than tall enough,” she laughs, rolling the condom done him. It’s the first sink, the stretch that makes Noa’s eyes nearly roll back into her head. Calum finds her hips, exhaling hard too at the squeeze and warmth of her. 

“Fuck,” they both exhale. Her pace is slow to start but Calum brushes everything inside of her, even parts that she didn’t even know could be brushed. It’s a little painful but the adjustment happens and all Noa’s concerned with is watching Calum fall apart beneath her. His fingers curl into the fat and muscle of her hips and thighs. 

The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo about the room and Noa releases the hiss, the only thing she can do at the feeling of Calum buried so deep inside of her. It’s true bliss when her pace picks up and Calum watches her tits bounce in time. “Fuck, just like that,” he encourages. 

It’s not easy work Noa will admit but it’s rewarding to hear how strained Calum’s voice is. How much he’s tittering closer and closer to the edge. Calum brings his fingers to her clit and her yelp, part surprise, part an exhalation of arousal, he hums. “That what you needed? Just a little attention for a greedy clit?”

Noa sighs, holding herself upon his chest. “But you like it, don’t you? You’re coming to cum for me and my greedy clit, aren’t you?”

He is. Not right now, but soon. It’s creeping up on him and god, will it be sweet. He brings her head down to kiss her, to swallow down every filthy sound she makes and save it for later in his chest. Calum plants his feet into the mattress and meets her bounces with his own thrust. “Oh, shit,” she whines, her voice straining at the added sensation. Time starts to lose its grip. They are just feeling bodies. 

It’s soon her face down into the mattress though, curling the sheets into her fist as Calum drives into her. “God, please,” she groans, feeling the twinge of her orgasm knotting at her lower stomach. 

Calum brings her up, her back into his chest with a hand tucked around her throat. It’s not tight and soon it drops to her nipples again. “Tell me what you need.”

“Just you,” she exhales. “Just you, Calum.”

His fingers dance over her sex. She clenches once, a sign of the impending orgasm that will be crashing over it. Calum kisses along her shoulders and across her back, the twists in the way don’t even matter. Not when he can feel her occasional spasms. He’s not going to last much longer. But he wants to get her there first. With a little more pressure at her clit, Noa grabs Calum's thigh. Another whine falls over her throat and she again lacks the warning. 

She cums with a heavy grunt scratching over her throat. Calum bites down onto her shoulder. His orgasm follows soon after thanks to her spasms. After they clean up, she falls into her sheets and Calum lays for just a minute. Just to catch his breath and he traces over the still red marks of his teeth. “Is it too much if I offer to buy pizza?” Noa asks, curled up into his chest. “Does seal the fate on Valentine’s Day as well when you’re single?”

Calum laughs. “It’s definitely sealed the fate on many of them for me in the past. But I should probably get home. Be an adult, even if I don’t want to be.”

Noa nods. It’s a little awkward when Calum has to crawl over her to climb down off the bed but all she does is giggle before kissing his cheek. Calum finds his shirt and she tosses him his underwear from the sheets. “I should write a personal note to Calvin Klein for that underwear. Your ass is ten out ten in those.

Calum shakes his head, his laughter loud. “And out of them?”

“Seven out of ten.”

“I should be offended.”

Noa shrugs, holding the sheets to her chest. “Alas, you don’t seem to be though.”

With the bucket hat situated back over his head, Calum shrugs. “Guess I’m not if it’s coming from you. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

She nods. “Sure.” Calum’s hand doesn’t quite reach the door before she calls out her next question. “You remember how to get out of here right?”

“Something tells me it’s like the same way I came in? But I’m not too sure.”

“Smartass,” she grumbles. 

Calum chews on his lip for a moment to hide the smile. He was worried him leaving would be awkward. But he finds himself not wanting to go really. He thinks he could split a pizza with her. What would be the worst that would happen? But he doesn’t want to push any more boundaries or piss off her roommate.“Bye, Noa.”

“Bye, Calum.”

***********

Now Noa is definitely worried after not seeing Calum on Monday that he freaked out about their hookup. She didn’t have his number and emailing him was out of the question. Emailing wasn’t the format to have the ‘what-happened-and-why-are-you-avoiding-me’ conversation. Everything seemed fine when Calum left. He even sent a thank you email when she sent him the notes she typed up from their study session. He had included the blowing a kiss emoji. That had to mean something. It had to. Even Brooklyn said it meant something. Sure Brooklyn was no expert. But who sends that kind of emoji unless they mean something behind it?

Though when Monday rolled around, Calum wasn’t to be seen. Today was Wednesday, the day of their midterm. Noa books it from her class in the science building but because of some rain, there is a mud spot and she slips. She doesn’t fall, thankfully catching herself on the edge of the brick wall but she knows the feeling of her pants splitting literally anywhere. 

Her shirt is most definitely not long enough to cover it and she can’t be late for the exam. So she carries on, wishing she had grabbed an extra layer to help save her from the embarrassment. First Calum ghosts her and now her pants rip. Today’s really not her day. Not that she needed it to be her day, but she would’ve liked it. 

Taking a quick moment to assess the damage, Noa feels behind. The hole is mostly towards her inner thighs but it does gape a little to the back and she’s mortified that half her ass is hanging out. She hopes this is the icing on her cake. She’d really rather not have too much else to her shit cake. This was more than enough shit for any one particular day. 

Just a few minutes before class starts, she opens the door to the classroom. The professor stands at the podium, exam in hand. Her eyes scan the room briefly and there’s Calum. His head down and she’s sure that he had to have heard the door opening but he doesn’t look up. There’s nowhere else to sit either, except for her spot right next to him. And she’s not going to cause a scene on midterm day either. 

She’s careful as she sits, to avoid further splitting, and slips off her backpack. She keeps her back turned and fishes out a pen, black ink this time. Just as she faces forward, a Hershey’s kiss and peppermint are placed in front of her. Calum grins, pulling the wireless headphones from his ears. “My mum used to give me peppermints before a test. She said it was supposed to help. I don’t know the exact science.”

Maybe Calum didn’t hate her? It definitely is a shock for him to be talking so casually. She’s happy though. She’d rather not have to shun Calum. She liked his stupid ass jokes and maybe, just maybe, she was letting herself get a little too close. That was a disaster she’d deal with later though. “Were you sick on Monday or something?” Something was going around and if Calum had caught it, she did worry that she would too, 

He shakes his head. “A gig ran late Sunday. I just emailed my professors that I wouldn’t be able to come in on Monday. I realized I needed the notes from Monday but I didn’t want it to seem like I was just using you. So I’m sorry about you not hearing from me after I said I would.”

Noa reaches into her backpack and pulls out a small bag of peppermints. There was just a misunderstanding. She can handle that. “My mom used to say the same thing.” She situates the bag between them. “In case you need another one during the exam. Also, I can give you my number.”  She finds a scrap piece of paper and writes it down. Calum saves it fast and sends her a text too so she has his number. 

As the professor starts to hand out the exam, only a list of four questions of which they’ll pick two to respond too, Calum feels the slight jitters coming back. Noa notices and slides her piece of chocolate over to him. They lock gazes for a brief moment and smile, both reminded of the last time chocolate was involved. 

The questions aren’t too hard. The practice ones Noa came up with fall right in line with what she said the professor would ask. She finishes first between the two of them and leaves the bag of peppermints. Calum notices her awkward shuffle and the hole in her jeans. He can’t use his phone to tell her to wait up but he’s almost done himself. So he scribbles down the last few sentences for his question and quickly gathers his things. 

From the pocket of his backpack, he feels his phone vibrate. He hands over his exam and slips out of the front door. Noa’s not in sight so he digs out his phone, stepping out into the bright sunlight. She’s not even halfway down the path, stopped by someone else as they chat for a moment. He thinks it’s her roommate, she looks familiar and the two laugh before going their separate ways. 

“Noa,” Calum calls out to her and she turns. These stairs aren’t as steep and he’s quick to get down them. Calum reaches into his backpack, revealing a sweatshirt and hands over her bag peppermints. “You can use this until you get back to get new pants.”

“I have a meeting with my advisor and then a club meeting. I was just going to tell them I’ll be a few minutes late to our meeting.”

“No, no, keep it. It’s okay. I don’t want you to be late.”

“I won’t be able to get it back to you until Friday.”

“I could come to pick it up too before then?”

Noa knows that look, the glint in his eyes as she ties the sweatshirt around her waist. “My last class tomorrow ends at 2.”

“I’ll pick you up from class. Just text me the building. We can study. I heard it’s Valentine’s Day. 

“That’s about a week late.”

“I was always bad at math,” Calum jokes. “You think I should sign up for one next semester?” Noa laughs as she steps backward from Calum. Of course, he would make another joke. They get her every time too. “Is that a yes though?”

“That is a yes. To Thursday and to you needing a math class.”

“Ouch.” He holds a hand to his chest, faking pain.

She twirls before throwing a wave over her shoulder. “Bye, Calum.”

“Bye, Noa.” He wipes out his phone, watching her walk down the bricked over paths. Next time you don’t have to split your pants to get my attention. 

She stops and spins around, fingers flying over the keys. I can and will take this hoodie hostage. 

“That’s my favorite hoodie,” he shouts at her. 

“Not my problem, sweetheart.”

“It absolutely is your problem.”

“My problem is that I’m going to be late.” 

___________

Tagging: @irwinkitten @5-secondsofcolor @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @glitterlukey 

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