5SOS Preferences

You Act Like You Hate Each Other - Michael Clifford

Your lips stretch into a thin line as you wait for Michael to finish talking. He's been going on and on about something stupid to Calum for the past half an hour, leaving you bored out of your mind.
Normally you would have spoken up and shoved him out of the conversation, but you were on orders to be on your best behaviour tonight. Calum was tired of you two arguing all the time.
Michael says something particularly annoying and your eyes practically roll to the back of your head. An involuntary sigh of displeasure escapes you, and Michael turns to glare at you.
"If you're so bored then leave. We won't miss you." He snaps.
"I would, but I'd feel bad leaving Calum alone to deal with your shit." You jab back. His turquoise eyes narrow and he purses his lips, drawing your attention to his mouth. You only allow your eyes to linger there for a second before snapping them back up.

Curse his stupid nice lips.

"Calum likes talking to me way more than he likes talking to you."
"You sound like a child. Ooh Calum likes me more than you, ha ha ha!"
Michael scowls and opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. His ears turn pink and he casts his eyes away from yours in embarrassment. One point to you.

You had been polite for ten minutes. Ten minutes of keeping your mouth shut and repressing all of your witty comments. It was too much. Michael was still talking nonsense to Calum, but you're not ready to leave just yet.

"... The hard drive was really small. It was awful." Michael says, and you're sassing him before you can stop yourself.
"Like your dick."
Calum shoots you a look, but you know he wants to laugh. It's in his eyes.
Michael looks pissed. His lips squeeze together tightly, forming a thin line. "Go away, [Y/N]," he snarls lowly, sending a shiver down your spine.
You shrug your shoulders and shake your head, "nope. I want to talk to Calum."
"Calum is my friend. Get your own."
"There you go again with the childishness. Learn to share, Michael."
"You mean like how guys share you on a night out? I'd prefer not to be a slut like you."
You raise your eyebrows: that was quick. Well, for him anyways.
"If you were more like me I think I'd actually like you."
"If I was more like you I think I'd kill myself."

You're taken aback by his words, causing your lips to fall open a fraction. Calum notices your shock and frowns at Michael.
"Bro that was..." He begins, crinkling his nose up to show his disapproval.
"Don't defend her!" Michael whines, "she's been a bitch to me too!"
"I know she has, that was just a bit far."
Michael is silent for a second before he grunts and walks off moodily.

You can feel Calum's eyes on you, but you don't turn to him. Somehow you know there's going to be pity set in those chocolate brown pools, and you can't handle that.
"I'm fine, Cal. He was just kidding. We're always like this with each other." You say, keeping your eyes set on the redhead storming away from you.
Calum exhales deeply and throws an arm around you. "Come on, I think we should play a game. Let's get some reinforcements."

***

"Okay, I'll count to sixty. Ready, go!" Calum yells, making sure that everyone can hear him. His eyes are twinkling with a childlike sparkle - and you're willing to bet yours are too. Hide and seek was yours and Cal's favourite game when you were kids.

You dart in the direction of the stairs, your eyes already scanning for somewhere to hide.
Vodka swims through your bloodstream, making you a little unsteady, but, despite the familiar buzzing in your head, you're still sober. The alcohol hasn't taken effect yet.

Conscious of the time limit, you throw yourself into Calum's bedroom, knowing exactly where to hide.

You throw open the wardrobe doors and step in without looking.
"Get out! This is my hiding place!" Michael complains, startling you.
You roll your eyes and close the doors behind you, refusing to give up the wardrobe. It was the best hiding place in the house.
The doors block out any light, causing darkness to wash over you.
"Find your own hiding place," Michael says, but his voice is less whiny this time. He knows you're not moving.
"Nope," you reply, popping the p.
For a few minutes you stand in silence, until his hand brushes lightly against your thigh.
"Could you not touch me please," you say, hoping to sound irritated, but your voice comes out hoarse and breathy.
"Sorry," he mutters, "I didn't realise how close we were."
You blink a few times to make your eyes adjust to the darkness. You can just about make out his silhouette. He's right - you are pretty close.