((*hillbilly voice* THIS HERE'S A BIG'UN))

Luke clears his throat and runs his hand through his hair three times before Calum sets down his phone and gives Luke the attention he apparently needs.

"Who are you rooming with tonight?" Luke asks carefully, making sure every word is clipped and precise.

Calum allows himself to be naïve for a second and a half. He let's himself think that Luke's asking because he's coming around, he's finally realizing Calum is who he is and there's nothing he can do to change it. So he shrugs, because if Luke wants to bond, nothings going to stop him. Not even his agreement to room with Ashton.

"Oh," Luke says. His eyes flick down to the bus table that separates him from Calum. "I'm rooming with Michael, so I guess you're stuck with Ashton."

Calum's blood runs cold at that. He's pissed off, because Luke's afraid of him. Luke, who showed up in Calum's English class in year nine with a blonde fringe and chubby cheeks, is afraid of the fact that his best friend knows how to apply eyeliner.

He picks up his phone again, for something to do, and clutches it tightly in his hand, gritting his teeth to avoid yelling.

"Are you afraid I'm just going to randomly want to suck your dick, Luke?" He growls.

"No," Luke says quickly, sounding sincere and honest. Calum believes him for a second, and then Luke tacks on, "Besides, I like boys."

"Explains why you're rooming with Michael, then," Calum snaps. Luke looks up at him in surprise, raising his eyebrows at the sudden outburst. Calum knows its wrong, he shouldn't be arguing, he should be approaching Luke carefully. He should be making sure Luke knows that its okay, Calum still likes him, even if the feeling isn't exactly mutual.

"Sorry?" Luke says finally.

"You both like cóck, it only makes sense," Calum summarizes. "You're probably going to have a lot of competition, with him."

Luke seems to pause at that, looking across the table at him uneasily. The bus goes over a pothole, jostling then both. "What do you mean?"

"You know what pansexual is, right?" Calum asks, smiling slightly when Luke shakes his head. "It means he's attracted to anyone, regardless of gend- oh."

"Oh?" Luke echoes.

"Oh, Michael's a hypocrite," Calum informs him. "He likes boys and girls and everything in between, but I'mthe in between and he hates me."

"Maybe he's in love with you," Luke suggests, because Luke is a hopeless romantic, regardless of the relationship.

Calum shrugs a little. All of his anger is directed at Michael now, instead of Luke. "I don't show my love by offending the one it's directed at."

Luke pauses for a second, flicking his tongue out to wet his lips and running a hand through his hair for the millionth time. "Maybe- maybe you could room with Michael? And I'll room with Ashton?"

"I doubt Ashton wants to room with you," Calum admits. Its been about a week since their argument, and Ashton isn't any less bitter about it. If anything, he's started acting arrogant around Luke, blatantly ignoring him and pointing his nose up whenever Luke's around. Calum sleeps in the bunk under Ashton on the tour bus, while Luke sleeps in the one across from him. Purposefully so Ashton won't be forced into any contact with Luke.

Calum would think it was childish if he didn't feel the same way. He's too afraid to ignore Michael and Luke though, he doesn't want the entire band to split in half.

"I know," Luke frowns. He's trying, but Ashton doesn't want to hear any of his apologies. "But I thought, you know. He'd be forced to talk to me, then? I could actually apologize and he'd have to hear me out, you know?"

Calum sighs. He's pretty sure Ashton's going to hate him for this, but he does really want to call Michael out on his hypocrisy.

So he agrees and ends up in one bed, with Michael on the other. Neither of them have really said anything, other than Michael asking which bed Calum wanted.

Calum's got his laptop in his lap, and clears his throat to get Michael's attention again.

"Pansexual, adjective," he reads out. "Not limited in sexual choice with regard to biological sex, gender, or gender identity."

Michael glances over with furrowed eyebrows and regards him carefully. "I know the definition, thanks."

Calum hums and clicks open a new tab, quickly typing what he's searching for. Michael looks back to his phone, thinking Calum's done with his defining.

"Genderfluid, adjective," he says loudly. Michael sighs and sets his phone down to look at him again. "Having an overlap of, or indefinite lines between gender identity and sexual and romantic orientation. Two or more genders, without a gender, moving between genders or with a fluctuating gender identity."

Michael stares at him in anticipation, gesturing for Calum to continue with a vague wave of his hand. When Calum just stares right back with an unimpressed expression, Michael says, "And?"

"You're pansexual," Calum says, earning a hesitant nod from Michael. "I'm genderfluid. So, it would be pretty fucking hypocritical of you to, for example, call me transgender, transvestite, weird, etcetera, wouldn't you agree?"

Michael frowns, but doesn't say anything to defend himself or disagree.

So, Calum continues. "So, either you're a cocky bisexual, or you really have something against me, because apparently you hate me now."

"I've fucked genderfluid people before," Michael says. Calum raises his eyebrows. "I once fucked a boy so hard, they spent the rest of the day as a girl."

"So you hate me," Calum summarizes. If Michael has nothing against genderfluid people, that must mean it's just Calum.

Michael's features soften then, going all gentle and sympathizing. Calum kind of can't breath under his gaze. "I don't hate you, Cally."

"Well then, what the fuck is your problem with me?"

"Imagine you wanted to fuck nachos," Michael says. Calum stares at him in bewilderment. "And like, you've always been best friends with a really attractive chip, but they're just not a nacho. Until, one day, they decide they are actually a nacho."

Calum keeps staring at him. "Did you just call me a nacho or a chip?"

"A nacho, Calum, you're a nacho,"

Calum blanks at that. He doesn't know what to say. He's not sure whether to comment on the fact that Michael had called him an attractive chip, or that he wants to fuck nachos apparently. He decides to go with the latter, and says, "So, because I'm genderfluid, you suddenly want to fuck me?"

"Well, I mean," Michael leaves the statement unfinished and shrugs his shoulders a little.

"Un-fucking-believable," Calum spits, slamming his laptop shut and shifting so that he can throw his legs over the side of the bed.

"What? What are you doing? Where are you going?" Michael says frantically, scrambling to get out of his own bed.

Calum bends down and grabs his discarded shirt, the one he'd thrown on the ground upon claiming his bed. "Sorry," he says bitterly, not feeling sorry at all. "You're making me uncomfortable, and I don't want to tempt you're horny mind with my bareness."

He really doesn't understand Michael. At all.

"Cal, come on, its not like that," Michael frowns, standing in front of where Calum's still sitting on the side of his bed. "See, this is why I didn't want to tell you!"

Calum can't believe Michael's blaming him for this.

"I don't mind if you like me, Michael," Calum says, scooting back so he's about a meter away from Michael, legs tucked underneath him on the middle of the bed. "But I want you to like me for me, not for my gender."

"I do like you for you, I called you an attractive chip!"

"You insulted me!" Calum counters.

Michael pauses then, scrunching up his eyebrows. "Because I called you a chip?"

Calum gives him a disbelieving look. "What? No. Because you called me trans and shit."

"Oh," Michael replies.

"Yeah, oh," Calum scoffs. The shirt he'd thrown on is a huge sweater, something he'd thrown on to walk from the bus to the hotel where he could take it off again. He's pretty sure it's actually Luke's. As a result of Luke's abnormally long torso and broad shoulders, the black sweatshirt is covering his hands up to his knuckles and blanketing his thighs. The neck hole is too large, so the right side keeps slipping over his shoulder. He hastily grabs the edges of the hood and tugs them forward until they're covering him up again.

"Cal, just hear me out," Michael begs.

"I've been waiting to hear you say anything for a month!" Calum protests.

"You're really fucking hot, Calum,"

"You don't think I know that?" Calum scoffs again. He can't fucking believe this conversation.

"I'm sure you do, anyone with a face like that should," Michael assures him. "But, the point is, I've always thought you were hot. Even in year eight when you had that terrible emo fringe and those oversized shirts. You're the one that made me realize that I wasn't straight. But I made a vow to never like straight cis boys, because they're gross and ignorant and mean, they're so mean, Calum."

Calum frowns at him. For the first time, he's starting to realize that maybe Michael's transition from straight to pan wasn't as easy as he makes it seem.

"And the only problem I had with that rule was the constant dumb crush I've always had on you," Michael looks vulnerable, like he's spilling his entire soul out to Calum. "So, yeah, I freaked out a bit when I realized you weren't straight or cis. I thought- This is dumb as fuck- I thought you'd just go back to being a normal boy if I was mean to you about it."

"Mike, I'm not a "normal boy," I never was," Calum frowns. Michael just looks frustrated that he doesn't understand.

"I know, but I thought you were," he says, sinking down to sit on the edge of his bed. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands. "And it was so fucking hard for me to admit that you- you're it, Calum. You're my dream boy, you're everything I've ever wanted, but you're my best fucking friend."

"Michael," Calum says. Michael peers through his fingers hopefully, glancing up from under his eyelashes. "You fucking suck."

"I know," Michael mutters, snapping his fingers closed again. He slouches even more, curling in on himself and making clumps of his wild red hair fall into his face. "I'm a fucking piece of shit, I know I am. I'm sorry, Cally, I didn't mean a single thing I said to you. It was just my sick, selfish, twisted way of trying to stop myself from falling in love with you."

Calum raises his eyebrows at that. "Did it work?"

"No," Michael mutters miserably.

"Well, that sucks," Calum shrugs. Michael peers through his fingers in confusion again, staring at Calum like he hadn't really expected that response. "What?" Calum asks innocently. "Just because you like me doesn't mean I automatically like you back. You're going to have to work if you want me. Woo me, you piece of shit."

Michael removes his hands from his face and stands up, cautiously crawling onto Calum's bed. He sits down right in front of Calum, crossing his legs, and leans forward so their faces are almost touching.

Calum moves his head away, putting his hands out so he can lean back to avoid Michael's advances. "I said woo me, not rape me."

"I was just going to kiss you," Michael frowns.

"Without my permission," Calum reminds him. "I don't want you to kiss me with the same mouth that called me a transvestite."

Michael stares at him for a few seconds. His lips tilt up in amusement and he shakes his head a little. "I'll woo you."

Calum leans forward hesitantly, mainly because he'd missed touching Michael for two weeks, and gives him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Good."

°°°°

"I don't know what you two are doing, but it looks gay,"

"That's rich coming from you," Michael responds. Luke scoffs and glances up, where Ashton's reading a book in his bunk, right above the one where Michael's got Calum tucked under his arm.

"Why all the gay jokes?" Luke asks. "There seems to be an overabundance of them this month."

"Because we're all comfortable enough with our sexualities to make fun of each other's," Michael shrugs, pressing his nose into the top of Calum's hair. "Well, most of us. We're getting there, aren't we Cally?"

"Is this your attempt to woo me?" Calum asks. "Because you're doing a terrible job. I feel very un-wooed. The exact opposite of wooed."

Michael hums a little, reaching a hand up to stroke Calum's cheek. The other is shoved under Calum's shirt, stroking across his stomach softly.

"Can all of you shut the fuck up?" Ashton snaps. Calum shuts his mouth on instinct, but Michael just rolls his eyes and Luke pouts.

"Sorry, you're reading a book, I forgot," Michael says.

"Yeah, there's a pan character in here," Ashton moves around until he's sticking his head out of his bunk and glaring down at Michael menacingly. "Nobody fucking likes them."

"Wow, okay," Michael scoffs and Luke frowns, like he's not sure who he wants to back up. "There's no need to be fucking rude here."

"That's not what you've been saying for the past two weeks," Ashton counters. Which is true, Michael has been rude previously, but he's getting better. He hasn't said anything mean to Calum since their talk three nights prior.

Michael just rolls his eyes again and makes no move to respond, so Luke steps up and decides he's on Michael's side.

"He's trying to be nice, but it's hard when you keep shooting him down," Luke says carefully, like he's trying to disarm a ticking time bomb.

"An eye for an eye," Ashton responds.

"Makes the whole world blind," Michael finishes.

"Shut up Clifford, go fuck a pan," Ashton snaps, then retreats back to his bunk.

Luke gapes at him and Calum raises his eyebrows in shock, but Michael looks generally unconcerned. "Pancakes are more my thing," he says nonchalantly.

"Right, I'm sure," Ashton mumbles. "But then again, how would we know? It's not like you ever tell us anything."

"Sorry, when did you come out as straight to us?" Michael asks. His tone has gone from casual to sharp in half a second, words like knife blades and coated with venom. Ashton doesn't respond, so Michael says, "If you don't have to come out as heteroromantic, or whatever the fuck you are, I shouldn't have to come out as pan."

"Well, I'm just saying, it would have been nice to know," Ashton mutters. Calum can see both sides, but Michael's appeals to him more. Maybe because he's definitely not straight, so he doesn't really feel like coming out to anyone when he figures out his sexuality.

"Curiosity killed the cat," Michael responds dryly.

"And satisfaction brought it back," Ashton quips.

"Why do you guys know so many quotes?" Luke frowns. "Its weird, maybe we should talk about that instead."

Michael ignores him and continues addressing Ashton through the wood that separates the two beds. "Besides, what's it matter to you? It's not like I'm randomly going to be attracted to you."

"Well, it would have been nice to know," Ashton says, sighing in exasperation. "All I'm saying is that you're our best friend, and we want to know what's going on with you!"

"Alright," Michael shrugs. "I'm pan, I'm wooing Calum- trying to- I've already wooed Luke, and I fuck irrelevant people once a week."

Ashton sticks his head out again, glancing to where Luke's standing directly in front of him, then glaring down at Michael. "What do you mean, you've wooed Luke?"

"I've sucked his dick like, twice," Michael shrugs. "It doesn't mean anything, just casual blow jobs between friends."

"Bro jobs," Luke agrees.

Calum scoffs and shoves at Michael's chest. "You're doing an awful job of trying to impress me, you fucking shithead."

"No, wait," Michael says dejectedly.

"God, this is such a gay band," Ashton mutters, retreating back to his bunk. He slides the curtain shut again and huffs loudly.

"Sorry, right, I forgot," Michael says before Calum can stop him. "You don't get it, you're not queer. Allie."

Before anyone can respond, Ashton's jumping out of his bunk and ducking down inside of Calum's. He presses his lips firmly to Michael's, tilting the boy's head up and licking into his mouth. Calum stares at them, because they're literally three inches away from his face and what the fuck. Ashton pulls back suddenly, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and sticks his finger in Michael's chest.

"Keep saying I'm not queer, see how that turns out for you," he snaps.

"If you're going to do that every time, I'm going to keep saying it," Michael says breathlessly. Ashton scoffs and snatches his book off of his bed, then stalks into the front room. He slams the thin door shut behind him, probably for the shock factor more than anything.

Calum glances up and catches sight of Michael's bright red lips and wide eyes.

"Did he just- did he fucking kiss me?" He asks.

"Yes, that's generally what lip to lip contact is," Luke replies. "Unless he was trying to give you mouth to mouth?"

"Shut up, Luke," Michael says. Luke pouts, while Michael looks like he's having an epiphany. "I thought he was asexual?"

"First off," Calum sighs, because Michael literally does not understand asexuality. At all. "Kissing is not considered sexual contact. That's more romantic, then anything. Second, he's not sex-repulsed. He doesn't feel sexually attracted to you, but he still has sex and shit."

"What the fuck is the point, then?" Luke asks. Luke, apparently, doesn't understand asexuality either.

"The point," Calum says in exasperation. "Is that just because he doesn't want to fuck anyone at first sight, he still can kiss and fuck around. He just might not enjoy it as much as anyone else."

"I still don't think its a real sexuality," Luke mutters. Calum doesn't even bother responding to that, so Luke just crawls into his own bunk and forcefully shuts the curtain.

Calum looks up to find Michael touching his pretty pink lips. "Ashton's tongue was in my mouth," he says, partially in shock, partially in horror.

"And?" Calum prompts.

"And he's a great fucking kisser,"

((QUEER IS AN UMBRELLA TERM FOR ANYTHING OTHER THAN CIS HETEROSEXUAL. THERE WAS PROBABLY SOME CONFUSION, BECAUSE ITS COMMONLY USED AS AN OFFENSIVE TERM, BUT I JUST WANTED YOU ALL TO KNOW, THATS NOT HOW THEY MEAN IT.

-Mel))