'5SOS boyxboy smut'

Cashton~I could be your one desire

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From: archiveofourown
Author: swiefts
Words: 8078
Published: 2016-08-24
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"Too tight?" Calum inserted his finger in the small space between the cloth and the skin of Ashton's wrist. "Hope it's not."

Sighing, Ashton murmured under his breath, "'s not."

There was a strong pull on his wrists and Ashton stumbled forward. Calum now had both Ashton's hand in his strong grip, pressing against delicate skin in a threatening manner.

"You know I hate it when you don't respond, babe. I need an answer. Loud and clear."

The electric in Ashton's veins went haywire once again. "I said, 'it's not'."

"I nearly fucked up the drums in Waste the Night, dammit!"

To his right, Calum was frowning as he interjected, "No you didn't."

"I said nearly," Ashton reasoned. "Nearly. I didn't say I fucked up. I said I nearly fucked up. Different thing."

Calum let forth a groan that was borderline a wolfish growl. "Whatever."

Ashton could feel phantom goose pimples bumping on his skin. He really couldn't understand (Oh actually he could. He just didn't want to) why his body decided to react that way every fucking time he managed to rile Calum up to the point where he couldn't decide of the boy was truly angry towards him or was just exhibiting his frustrations of Ashton's attitude.

On good days, Calum returns his snarky comments with ones of his own, successfully shutting Ashton up. Those comments were usually followed by Michael's bark of laughter. That boy finds amusement at the sight of Ashton's defeat.

The sound of one of the crew members yelling orders behind him broke Ashton out of his reverie. He hadn't notice he was stood stock still in the middle of the way. Calum had long made his way towards the showers.

Fuck. Ashton needed to get a grip. Preferably a grip on his own fucking dick.

***

His skin was still damp with shower water when he was blow drying his hair in the dressing room. Ashton hated sleeping with wet hair, but he refused to sleep without showering first. He is a legit sweat monster that managed to get sweat even in places where sweat shouldn't even pool.

Also, maybe, just maybe, he was trying to distract himself from getting a boner.

What the fuck else can he do? The only thing that had been running through his mind was Calum. CalumCalumCalumCalum. Calum and his sweaty biceps, skin flushed from sweat and exertion and from jumping and running on stage with a motherfucking bass in hand all night long. Calum and his stupid, stupid grin and stupid, stupid voice. And his fucking smile. God, his smile.

They've had their fun in Hawaii, yes. But the start of the tour leg would only mean one thing. Less sex.

Oh, and more frustration.

It meant they couldn't fucking get it on like rabbits every night. More pent up frustration.

Ashton is not a sex-crazed demon of some sort, no. But.

If you happen to have Calum Hood as your fucking boyfriend. Calum Thomas Hood, a literal Maori god, prancing around literally a breath away from him day to day. How can you not have the urge to kiss such a kissable pair of lips? How can you hold back the intent of objectively climbing him like a goddamn tree?