Request: “Would you like an award for that” with sassy Calum
Summary: your old friend somehow manages to be simultaneously way too sassy and entirely cute
“I can’t believe you just said this,” Calum gasps in mock horror.
Deeming that this doesn’t deserve a response, you just chuck one of his old socks at his face. He ducks and laughs.
“Your aim really hasn’t improved much, has it?”
“Well excuse me if while you were busy being a child on your world tour, I didn’t have time to practice hurling things at people because I was busy having an actual job you know? Doing actual responsible adult things?”
“Wow.” Calum deadpans. “Would you like an award for that?”
You throw the other sock. This time it hits him in the chest and makes a wounded sound, clutching his hands over his chest.
“What…what have you done?” He rasps.
He falls to his knees, raising a lone hand towards the sky, saying a dramatic “why hath thou forsaken me?” before dropping to the ground face down.
“Ugh,” you throw yourself back on the sofa, “I killed Calum Hood? What am I going to say to your fans?”
“It doesn’t matter what you say,” Calum raises his head, a strange light in his eyes, “they will find you, and they will murder you in your sleep. Especially once they find out that you like the Star Wars prequels better than the original trilogy. No but seriously, I’ve erased you from my will just now. Disowned you.”
“Hm. Well I guess that defeats the purpose of killing you.”
“Grave tactical error there,” Calum agrees with a grin.
You smile at him fondly as he sits on the couch next to you. It’s strange to think of the young, scrawny boy you used to be friends with when you see him now, all tattooed muscles and talent and confidence. He’s even lost his Australian accent.
But then again, he’s as goofy and ridiculous as he always was. Maybe stardom just gave him an opportunity to become more him.
You lean over to ruffle his hair, and he grabs on to you like a fucking koala. You miss the hell out of him constantly, but he deserves this. You’re happy for him. And it’s not like you never see him, he’s always inviting you over to LA or whatever exotic place he’s taking a vacation in when he can.
But now he’s come home for Christmas and you get him just for yourself a couple of days. No sharing with fans or fancy models, just him and you and–
“Rogue One?” He questions, hooking his chin on your hip.
“I haven’t watched it.”
“Oh my god! We’re watching it now!”
He jumps up and grabs his laptop, quickly finding the movie on some website. As the beginning credits start to roll, you can’t help the stupid feeling that grows in your chest because he’s so soft and warm as he gets back on the sofa and drapes himself over you so you’re almost spooning him.
“Big baby,” you whisper under your breath.
“Psshhh, you love me.”
“Definitely,” you say, with much less sarcasm in your voice than you intended, and Calum is silent for a couple of moments before grabbing your hand in his and squeezing it.
“Good. Now shut up, we’re watching a movie.”