The only thing Calum's thankful for in life is that he has golden boys like Ashton to fawn over him.

Ashton, who stands behind him,grabs his waist tightly, and presses soft little kisses along his spine, whispering things like, "You're so fucking beautiful, Cal," and "I love you so much, you're perfect the way you are," and (Calum's personal favorite) "You'll always be my princess."

Ashton, who hands him a dark beer, puts on Transformers or Terminator, and says, "Damn, did you see that girl during the Meet and Greet today? I'd cuddle the fuck out of her."

Ashton, who cuddles him in the dead of night when everyone else is sleeping and Calum can't quite understand why genders exist, whispering quietly in his ear, "I love how warm you are. I love how snuggly you are. I love how soft you are. I love you."

Calum's like, seventy three percent sure Ashton is a god sent straight from the heavens, with the soul purpose of protecting Calum. Ashton is a fucking saint, basically.

Michael notices too. With his arm pulling Calum closer by the waist, he regards Ashton carefully, taking in every sharp point on his body. Ashton glares right back, until Michael says, "Why are you so protective of Calum? He's an adult, he can fend for himself."

Ashton laughs bitterly. "You're so naïve, Clifford."

"I'd like to think I'm not," Michael shrugs, pulling Calum even colser so their hips and ribs knock together.

"Well, you are," Ashton informs him. "You naïve and oblivious and ignorant if you honestly think that Calum's carrying himself through life without any problems."

Calum frowns, but he can't tell if its because Ashton's making him sound useless, or because Ashton's right. Probably the latter. He keeps his mouth shut though, because this isn't his argument.

"You're going to have to stop babying him at some point," Michael responds sharply, like he's trying to hurt Ashton.

"I don't want to be attending his funeral, but thanks for the suggestion," Ashton responds. He stalks off then, towards the bunks, slamming the door behind him.

Michael huffs at that and glances down at Calum, who instantly shrinks under his gaze. He doesn't like the way Michael's watching him curiously, he doesn't like the way Michael's hand loosens around his waist.

Michael frowns, presses a soft kiss to Calum's cheek, and mutters something about Luke before walking away.

Leaving Calum alone in the front room, confused and sad and angry.

°°°°

If there's one thing Calum's jealous of in life , its Luke Hemmings.

Luke, with his little upturned nose and straight teeth and smooth skin. Luke, with his long legs and thin build and broad shoulders. Luke, with his golden boy voice and skilled fingers and charismatic gestures.

Luke has it all. He has girls and boys alike fawning over him, no matter what he does. He has the perfect body and face and voice. He was practically made to be the star, the center stage, the "popular" one.

And, overall, Calum's jealous of Luke's transition. He's jealous at how Luke realized he liked boys, came out to his family, friends, and fans, and sailed through life like nothing. Calum's jealous that Luke didn't have a period of panic and anger because he didn't think there was a term for his sexuality. Luke got a commercialized one, everyone knows what gay means. Calum's jealous that Luke didn't have to scour the internet like he did, searching for anything that would make his feel normal and accepted.

Luke's always been normal and accepted. He was normal and accepted when people thought he was straight, and he's still normal and accepted now that he's come out.

(Calum's not sure there was ever a time when Luke was formally "in the closet". He'd told them the second he started thinking about boys, he'd told his family and friends as soon as he'd realized he was gay. Maybe there was a short period of a week or two before he cane out to the fans, but they'd already had suspicions by Luke's quiet comments and side remarks. Luke was never formally in the closet; Calum's jealous of that, too.)

Calum's got rage and jealousy for Luke burning hot in his veins, amplified by the little statements Luke's been making all day.

Luke probably doesn't even mean it, the way he says things that shouldn't even make Calum mad. Luke doesn't even mean anything by them, he probably doesn't even know he's saying them.

Calum reaches his breaking point when Luke asks if Calum drank all his milk.

"No, Luke, I didn't drink your fucking milk!" Calum yells suddenly. Luke jumps at his tone and spins around, letting the fridge door shut. "But, of fucking course you'd suspect me! You dislike me the most, you privelaged little barbie bitch!"

Luke furrows his eyebrows in confusion. "Sorry?"

"Fuck off!" Calum snaps. "Fuck off with your stupid fucking angelic innocence!"

Luke looks terribly confused still. He frowns at Calum over the counter and scans over his face slowly, trying to figure out what's pissing him off. That pisses Calum off too, because Luke's too fucking nice to fight back, even if he did know why Calum was angry.

Calum comes to the conclusion that he hates Luke.

"I- I'm sorry?" Luke says softly. "I didn't mean to accuse you of stealing my milk, I was just wondering who drank it? Because it's gone? Sorry, I'll ask Michael, I guess."

Calum groans in frustration. Luke.

"You're so fucking oblivious, Luke, this isn't about the milk!"

"Sorry, what's it about?" Luke asks. "Sorry for whatever I did- I just, yeah, sorry." He's shifting uncomfortably, looking at the floor now instead of Calum's angry expression.

"You don't understand what any of us went through or are going through!" Calum accuses, stomping his foot and probably looking like an angry toddler.

Calum doesn't understand himself, honestly. He can't figure out why he's screaming at Luke so outwardly, he's usually such a passive agressive person. Something about Luke just pisses him off though, it makes him want to punch Luke, but also sort of kiss the bruises he's left.

Luke shrinks a little, hunching his shoulders and ducking his head down to his chest. "I know I don't, Cal, I- I need some help understand it, and no one's offered to even explain anything to me," he says quietly.

"You didn't fucking ask!" Calum scoffs. Luke glances up with his pretty blue eyes and his long eyelashes, and Calum feels like he's been punched in the stomach.

Calum's jealous of Luke because he's really, really pretty. Calum wants to be that pretty.

Without even realizing, he's grabbing Luke by the collar of his stupid flannel shirt and forcefully pulling his upper half over the counter. Luke makes a loud gasping noise like the wind's been knocked out of him when the edge of the counter digs into his stomach, looking up at Calum in confusion.

Because, of fucking course, Luke's pliant and goes alone with whatever Calum does with asking questions.

"You're too fucking pretty for your own good," Calum mutters. The way he's holding Luke, their faces are almost touching, so he can feel Luke's hot breath on his lips.

Calum opens his mouth to yell at him again, tightening his grip on Luke's collar, when Luke stretches forward and presses two, soft, sweet kisses to Calum's bottom lip. He pulls back and smiles gently at Calum, like he's testing the waters to figure out what Calum's going to tolerate.

Calum blinks in confusion, scrunching up his nose and looking down at Luke's tiny smile curiously.

It kind of pisses him off , because it just furthers his point that Luke's a perfect little mother fucker that knows exactly how to diffuse him. But Luke did taste like oranges and sugar (obviously Luke tastes good).

Calum kisses him again, forcefully this time, like he's trying to hurt Luke's mouth. With his mouth.

He tightens his fingers in Luke's dumb flannel shirt and pulls himcloser, pressing their mouths together like he'll explode if they part, then licking into Luke's mouth when the younger boy groans. Luke kisses him back eagerly, letting Calum take full control and do whatever he wants, because of course he fucking does.

When they finally part (Calum's pretty sure Luke's tongue has touched his molars), they're both breathless and red in the face. Luke has this happy little giddy smile on his face that makes Calum want to punch him (in the mouth with his mouth).

Instead, he shakes his head, scowls, and mutters, "I fucking hate you, Luke."

((This was so unscripted I'm supposed to be writing smut for jalyn whOOPS

-Mel))