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“Calum, please.” Michael’s desperate voice filters through the phone, ruining Calum’s plans of reorganizing his vinyl collection accompanied by substances that are definitely not suitable for children.
“Ashton’s coming over,” Calum supplied, “Don’t you have a backup sitter?”
“She is the backup. Both of them are busy. You’re the backup backup—and currently the only available option. I’ll drop them off in a half-hour.”
“I’m not available. Ashton’s coming over.” Calum restates, attempting to brainstorm suggestions for children-supervision that have nothing to do with him. He loves Michael and his daughters, but he also loves his vinyl collection.
“You’re home, therefore available. You see Ashton on a near-daily basis,” Michael deadpans. Calum considers pointing out that most of his time with Ashton is on the clock, but refrains and accepts his fate.
“Yeah, okay. We’ll watch them.” Calum knows he’s being difficult. It’s only an afternoon, and the vinyls can wait. Deciding this is an opportunity to become the kids’ favorite uncle over Ashton, he begins to search the house for anything that needs to be moved to a higher shelf. “How long are you gonna be gone?”
“A few hours. I’ll buy your drinks the next time we’re out, or something.” Michael’s next words are muffled, presumably directed at a mini-Clifford. “Thanks, man. I owe you,” he continues.
“No problem. Anything to note for later?”
“Lua’s got a giraffe she’s really into, so don’t lose that. I’ll bring a bag of everything you need.” Calum puts the call on speaker as he tidies the house. What does he have that he could use to entertain the kids? Michael’s directions follow Calum through the hallway as he fetches a ukulele and a microphone from his music room. Start ‘em young, or whatever.
“Just don’t smoke or anything around them, obviously.” Michael concludes. “And leave room for the lord.”
“Hm?”
“You said Ashton was coming over.”
“To organize vinyls.” Calum sighs as he snatches his phone and takes it to the couch, plopping down and scanning the living room one last time.
“Don’t play dumb, I know how you guys are.” Calum taps his phone screen to make it light up, just so he can look at the red button that would save him from what is surely about to be a headache-inducing conversation.
“‘How we are?’” Calum tries.
“The last time we were at a hotel you slept in his bed.”
“Mine was too close to the AC unit, and it was easier than figuring out the thermostat.”
“Right. Did you not know how the thermostat worked at the house we lived in together? You seemed to be in his bed a lot then, too.”
“There were ghosts in that house, and you know it.”
“What about the time you had a three-” Michael pauses to consider his words, remembering his audience on his side of the line. “The time you ‘had fun’ with Ashton and that girl, and she left before midnight?”
”She had stuff to do in the morning.” Calum’s head fell back against the couch as he brought a hand up to rub at his eyes. His solo album did well—maybe he could leave the band.
“You and Ash probably did ‘stuff’ in the morning, too.” Calum’s heart speeds up at the memory. Maybe he and Ashton had, in fact, proceeded after she left. It was still technically a threesome. She was there, at some point. He and Ashton hadn’t bothered to dwell on it. And it was none of Michael’s business, anyways. “Haven’t you guys kissed?”
”High off our asses,” Calum is quick to clarify. Though, he’s afraid the details don’t help much.
”I don’t know, kind of figured there’s been more to your bro-time than just ‘organizing vinyls.’”
“Don’t you have things to do? To get ready to leave, or something?” Calum interjects, far more anxious than he wanted to be on what was once a relaxing off-day. He and Ashton are not doing ‘stuff,’ but it isn’t worth insisting. Whether or not Michael takes his word for it, he’ll tease Calum anyways.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll let you go. Be over in a bit.”
“Bye, Michael.” Calum hangs up, cutting off Michael’s ‘love you.’ He shoots a quick text to Ashton explaining their updated agenda, promising takeout when the kids leave. They could still get in some quality time tonight.
Calum passes some time with the dishes, contemplating Michael’s words. Is the way he and Ashton act really any different from how they all are as a band? The four of them have shared countless beds over the years. They’ve all probably kissed each other at some point. Whatever—you spend your whole adolescence with the same three guys, gay shit’s gonna happen eventually. Calum and Ashton have kissed in their weaker moments, but Michael doesn’t get it; he and Luke aren’t exactly short on kisses anymore now that they’re both married.
Frowning, Calum digs around his kitchen for snacks and candy. His phone dings with a message from Ashton.
How dare he use us like this
I’ll head over in a few. Bringing a glockenspiel so they know who the cooler unc is
Calum scoffs and resumes his scavenging. He knows he has Airhead Xtremes somewhere. Two-year-olds like those, right?
He jumps when the doorbell rings, closing all of the cabinets and running a hand through a mess of bleached curls as he makes his way to the front door, observing a blur of red and black through the frosted glass. He’s got this; his relationship with Ashton is completely normal. And Calum is an excellent uncle.
-
Michael sighs, scrutinizing the paint color covering Calum’s front door as he waits for it to open. Muffled yells and stomps leak through to the porch.
“What the hell are they doing?” Michael says, to no one except himself and the doorbell camera. He knocks again, louder. The doorbell camera stares back at him with a sympathetic silence. The racket continues, accentuated by a loud thump and gigglish squeals. Clearly, he chose a bad time to pick them up.
Micheal reaches for the door handle. As he guessed, it was left unlocked, and Michael is greeted to the sight of Calum and Ashton wrestling on the living room floor. Sadie is laid peacefully on her play mat away from the brawl, and Lua’s giggles float over the back of the couch.
Calum catches sight of Michael and stops, arm braced against Ashton’s shoulder in an attempt to escape from under him. Ashton raises an eyebrow and follows Calum’s gaze towards the door.
“Oh, hey Michael.” Ashton pants, sitting up and adjusting his shirt. Lua pops her head up from the couch, and hops down to stumble her way to Michael, face lit up with a smile.
Crouching down to return her embrace, Michael asks over her shoulder, “Well, who’s winning?”
Ashton giggles and stands to begin rounding up all of the kids’ stuff strewn around the living room, leaving Calum to explain.
“We were trying to determine who the cooler uncle is,” is what Calum comes up with, eyes trained on Ashton as he disappears down the hallway.
“Through a round of MMA fighting?” Michael quips, quirking an eyebrow as he crouches over Sadie, properly saying hello to both kids.
“It started with hide and seek,” Calum starts, before halting and eyeing the kitchen. He swiftly walks to his counter, out of Michael’s line of sight. Michael hears…crinkling? The trash can opens and closes before Calum rounds the entryway to the living room again. Damnit, he totally gave them sugar. “Ashton said he was better at hiding than me, so I said I was a better uncle than him.”
“He viciously attacked me!” Ashton adds from down the hallway.
“Ash started it.” At this moment Michael decides that the details aren’t worth it. Lua is hyped up on sugar, speaking far too many unintelligible sentences for Michael’s brain to digest on top of his bandmates’ antics. Every minute past Lua’s unsuccessful bedtime tonight will be spent looking for a third babysitter, Michael decides.
“Well, did you have fun?” Michael asks Lua.
“Yes!”
“Did Uncle Calum give you candy?”
Lua looks up at Calum, who glares back with wide eyes.
“No!” she giggles out, before sprinting down the hallway. Michael doesn’t miss the thumbs-up Calum shoots in her direction. Ashton reenters the living room, holding the bag of babysitting necessities in one hand, and guiding an energized Lua with the other.
“Here’s all your stuff. If we find anything left behind I can drop it off on my way home tonight.” Ashton says, handing the bag to Michael. Michael sets it down to disassemble Sadie’s playmat and add it to the top of the bag. Scooping Sadie up, Michael tells Lua it’s time to leave and grabs the bag.
“Thank you guys, seriously.” Michael says, mostly sincerely, as he passes through the door that Calum is holding open. “I hope they weren’t too much trouble.”
“Oh, they’re angels!” Ashton waves a hand from behind Calum, the two of them sharing quick glances as if they’re counting down the seconds until their precious alone time begins.
“Mostly,” Calum retorts. “Lua spilled applesauce on my Innuendo record.”
“Your fault for having it out,” Michael shrugs. “Kidding—is it damaged? I’ll buy you a new one.”
“It was out so it could be organized,” Calum frowns. “It wasn’t a big deal, I cleaned it up. Speaking of my vinyls…”
“Okay, okay. Thanks, again.”
Calum and Ashton both blurt some form of a goodbye and shut the door as soon as Michael turns to leave. An abrupt thump jolts the front door, followed by a suggestive noise that makes Michael roll his eyes.
“What was that?” Lua asks, looking up at her dad as she’s pushed towards the car, away from the door.
“They’re wrestling again.”