happy calidays

'you got into a fight and I had to clean you up which turned into a platonic makeout session wanna go lay down?" with calum??

You had been curled up on the couch for hours, dressed lazily in your favorite pair of sweatpants and one of your roommate’s old sweaters. It fit you largely, draping over your limbs and slipping from your shoulder effortlessly, causing you to pull your blanket up and over your exposed skin. Finally, you were able to have the television to yourself tonight, and finally, you had some peace and quiet.

Or, at least you did for a little while until your roommate came home just past midnight, his steps dragging along the hardwood flooring and the door flinging open so harshly it hit the wall. You craned your neck, your weariness suddenly dissipating into the air as you took in Calum’s appearance from where he was stood in the hallway.

His face was battered, dried blood sticking to the skin just below his lip and nose, one of his eyes completely bruised and swollen. He seemed exhausted and slightly intoxicated as he stumbled into your shared apartment and shut the door behind him.

“Cal, what happened to you?” You instantly questioned, rising from the sofa to rush over to him.

His appearance was even worse up close. You could see that his lip was still bleeding, cracked right down the middle and puffed up from taking what could only be a hit to the face. Calum’s breathing was even despite the horrible injuries he seemed to bear.

“Got in a fight at a party,” he muttered. “Not a big deal.”

“It is too a big deal.” You immediately shot back. “Look at you, you’re still bleeding.”

“Just wanna go to bed. ‘M tired.” He murmured in reply, turning to the side so that he could shrug his coat off and throw it haphazardly on the coat rack by the door.

You shook your head. “No, Calum, come on. Let me clean you up.”

He sighed languidly, dark eyes flashing up to meet yours. You knew you had won once he nodded slowly, reaching up to wipe some of the blood that had dripped down his chin. You cringed at the sight, but you knew you had to help him out. Your heart ached at the mere sight of him.

So you led Calum into the bathroom that the two of you commonly fought over in the mornings before work, flicking on the light and instructing him to sit up on the vanity counter. Calum groaned lowly, the muscles in his shoulders throbbing as he pulled himself up next to the sink, watching your movements as you searched the medicine cabinet for something to clean up the tiny cuts on his knuckles with.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” Calum murmured after a quiet minute.

You nodded. “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.”

He went back to remaining silent as you picked up the hydrogen peroxide and dampened a rag with it, moving to stand before the dark-haired boy whose presence was practically looming over you. Your breaths could be heard as you picked up one of his hands, clasping his wrist as you ran the cloth over his torn up fingers, noting the way he tensed at the feeling.

“Can I ask why you got in a fight?” You requested quietly, feeling his skin warm beneath your own as you moved to his other hand.

His eyes followed your every movement. “It’s not that important. Just a douchebag who was trying to go a little too far with one of the girls there.”

You frowned slightly at the idea of Calum getting into a legitimate fight, but at least he was being earnest. At least he was defending someone. That thought alone calmed you, made you feel a bit better about cleaning him up and looking at the swollen eye he managed to land.

Then, you dropped his lands back onto his lap, looking up to meet his eyes. You delicately ran your fingertips over his bottom lip, studying the way it had cracked and cut open from being hit. It was bleeding still, but only slightly.

You retrieved a paper towel and ran it under the faucet quickly, then moved back to stand between Calum’s parted thighs. He was taller than you by some, especially since he was perched up on the bathroom counter, but you could still dab the moistened paper towel over his bottom lip. You applied minimal pressure until you were sure that the bleeding stopped completely.

And then you were repeating your earlier actions, wiping the dried blood from his skin, allowing yourself to study his eye and see how badly bruised it was. You knew that the swelling would go down on its own, just like how his lip would heal on its own. None of his injuries were serious, but he still worried you once he walked through your apartment door. You didn’t like seeing him hurt.

After a moment of simply gazing at one another, Calum cleared his throat gently. “Is that my sweater you’re wearing?”

You looked down at yourself, your hands absently retreating to the hem of - yes - Calum’s sweater. “Sorry,” you began. “It was the only thing that I found clean in my room.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said softly, brown eyes casting over you, seeing all of you. “It looks nice on you. You can keep it.”

You swallowed thickly, only nodding and smiling in response. You could feel his stare and the way it stayed glued to you, his hands still folded in his lap. You picked up a new dampened paper towel and stepped forward again, although your breathing hitched in your throat.

Calum was looking at you with an intensity that made your knees buckle. It wasn’t the same way that he usually saw you, when you were crawling out of bed in the morning and racing him to the fridge for the milk, or when you spent hours upon hours having movie marathons with him. It wasn’t platonic, it wasn’t innocent - he was looking at you with admiration, with lust. He was looking at you in all the ways that you wished he had for so long.

The paper towel fell from your grasp once he reached forward and pulled you close to him, stepping down from the bathroom sink so that he could stand before you. His lips were on yours in seconds, tongue tasting you and flavor dizzying you in the head. You could feel his jaw contracting while he kissed you as your hands cupped his face, while his hands slid down the curvature of your waist.

The atmosphere between the two of you had shifted drastically, heating up and engulfing you both in an infinite bubble of impulse. You were acting on what felt right, and finally, it was what you had always secretly wanted.

Calum pulled away after a moment, breathless, eyes frantically searching your face for any indication of whether or not you felt regretful of what had just happened between the two of you. He visibly relaxed, then leaned in and kissed you once again, shortly, but it was enough to leave you wishing for more.

“Thanks for taking care of me.” Calum spoke up in undertone. “But I feel a lot better now.”

You giggled at his reply and the smirk that was tugging at his lips, gracing his entire face. “I’m just glad I could help.”