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The room was filled from wall to wall with reporters and influencers begging to get a check piggy backing from their fame. It was something that at this point was damn near laughable and expected as the band became more and more famous.
This tour had been rough, rougher than the last few; at least for him.
The arenas were getting larger, in both size and quantity and it was honestly as fucking exhausting as it was rewarding.
Seeing all of those faces every single night, singing back the lyrics of songs that they all wrote, all while crying and screaming made his heartbeat like the snare thumping at his feet.
The fans only see what they allow them to see; the excitement on stage as a thousand lights surround them, the fake awards ceremonies, Calum down on his knees in front of Luke every single fucking night looking up at him like he hung the stars- That's until it was time to pack it all away and the bitterness of those moments that are hidden behind the curtains that bleed through.
He knew that feeling all too well.
The want to reach out and touch the untouchable even though it's right in your grasps, the wanting to have that silky satin voice whisper in your ear in the most intimate of settings like a damn lullaby, and fuck, the knowing of what it sounds like to have your name on those lips like you were the last thing on this planet he would devour and the devouring that comes after.
But unfortunately for them, Luke Hemmings was not a being that could be held to those bounds of commitment, he was not something that could be obtained - at least not for forever.
Poor Calum was the one to learn that the most recently.
That was what it was like to be one of the many lovers of Luke Hemmings.
Ashton stared harder than he should have, the pit in his stomach growing ever deeper the more and more whiskey he drowned down.
It shouldn't bother him, at least that's what he tells himself.
It's been five years since Luke and him cut off whatever thing they had after he moved out of Ashtons townhouse flat when they needed each other most. Fame changed Luke, no matter how much he said it didn't. Ashton watched him go from his fun-loving best friend to the ghost of the man he once knew.
Luke blamed his ex-girlfriends but the internalized homophobia was deafening, and the all the eager women made such a good cover for what happened behind the scenes.
The parties became addictive, as well as the drugs and alcohol supplied.
It was the perfect whirl-wind disaster that every band sees when they make it to the top, but the pain truly comes when you're too blinded by it to see how much it affects those around you.
He didn't blame Luke, not really, because he had no room to talk - none of them did.
It was the toxic cycle of fame and the easiness of it all just made it prosaic.
That's the thing with Luke, he runs- from the seriousness and attachment, from being tied down, to what could be if he'd let himself have it instead of the fear taking over down to his very bones. But instead, he plays with the people around him because he knows he can, because he knows every single person on that bus would falter and bow down to his whims.
Even he wasn't strong enough to not let that desire control him had Luke asked him with those ocean eyes Ashton loved to drown in.
"If you take a picture, it will last longer," Calum's almost spiteful tone is shared between them with a dissatisfied tisk, the whiskey glass in his hand nearly being shattered by the sight they shared as the chatter at the bar made it barely a whisper above the sound.
"It's not a picture I need when the sight will be engraved in my head for the rest of time mate, at least they look happy considering," Ashton's tone was more settled than Calum's who let out a sarcastic laugh, he'd grown used to it.
"Yeah, for now, and look where that got us mate," there was a sadness Ashton could see plaguing the bassist that he knew all too well. The sight of Lukes face buried into Micheal's chest on the dance floor now that the girl between them had moved made even his own chest flutter in a not so good way.
Luke had 'broken up' with side piece number two last week, needing to keep a female beside him in the headlines to cover up what happens behind the scenes and right now that was Luke doing what he does best and reeling in their willing guitarist with that angelic face and sharp smile with promises of making him feel good.
And fuck would he make sure he did.
That's just what Luke does.
Ashton could hear Calums teeth grinding at the sight; he couldn't tell if he was more pissed or envious and Ashton would be lying if he said he didn't at least share in the sentiment.
"Cal, bitter has never been a good look on you," Ashton picked up the glass of shimmering amber liquid that matched his eyes in the right lighting, "Especially when you're making that face," Ashton gently poked the other mans cheek before having his hand batted away.
" As if you have room to talk, I can't tell which one you've been eye fucking more," Calum huffed, "I don't know where those things have been, fuck off mate," Calum rolled his eyes but there was something under the words, a hint of amusement maybe but he wasn't one to press.
"I can assure you, you do. Cal, you and me both know how they are. They circle each other for a couple of days, they'll fuck, and then it will be like nothing ever happened and the world goes on till Luke finds another willing fan to bury himself into to make up for what he's feeling after Michael. It's toxic and sad but it's just what it is because he will never accept himself for who he is," Ashton's voice carried a little louder than he meant it to, but it was the truth. It was Lukes's toxic cycle. He was the pure definition of Bi-Panic and not knowing how to handle it even after all the years they had done this and each other.
Calum just shook his head.
But those brown eyes bore into him like he was contemplating, it was a look not even Ashton could truly explain.
The thing is, no matter how many pictures or videos taken of him and Micheal tonight would be posted it wouldn't matter because to the fans that's just who they are during these times, just a bunch of dudes who do this kind of shit for PR instead of the real deal.
"You wanna get out of here?" Calum's question surprised him.
"Oh yeah? The brooding Mr. Hood want the attention of a mere peasant?" Ashton put a hand over his chest, mocking being hit.
"Don't make me regret asking Ash," Calum shook his head, actually letting a soft laugh escape.
It was nice to hear it, something so genuine instead of the front he put on most of the time.
Calum had taken to more of being a loner these days, especially after the fall out of walking in on Luke and Micheal last year and Luke acting like it was his fault for invading his privacy. All Calum wanted to do was surprised him with a promise ring even after Ash's warnings. Like Icarus, he flew too close to the sun and was burned for it.
Micheal was the only one who seemed as on board with sharing Luke as Luke wanted, he too didn't care for commitment and titles and was very much married to the sex, drugs, and rock n roll shtick.
They shared groupies on more than one occasion, leaving the tour bus smelling like weed and regret. It had almost gotten to the point that him and Calum were going to go half on a second tour bus.
Ashton threw down a twenty on the bar, all in tip considering everything else was paid for before pushing off his stole and coming to Calum's side, "Lead the way princess,"
Calum glared at him, "I hate you,"
"No you don't," Ashton smirked and earned a punch to the arm before Calum lead them through the large group of people and to the elevator, no doubt back to the room they shared for the next week on this leg of the tour.
The room was dark but pleasant minus the clothes spread across the floor and a couple of empty bottles here and there, "Everything okay Cal? Just need to-" Before Ashton could finish his last question Calum's lips were on his with a hunger he didn't know how to match.
Calum was a man starved, deprived, and desperate and Ashton wouldn't be the one the deprive him farther.
It was in two quick movements he had his arms locked around the back side of the bassists' knees, lifting him around his broad waist and pinning him to the wall of the kitchenet like he had weighed nothing. His kisses tasted like whiskey and coke, and god was it just as addictive as Ashton swiped the tip of his tongue across Calum's bottom lip begging for his own entry.
Calum was happy to oblige, opening for him and letting Ashton explore his kiss swollen mouth.
Pulling back Ashton gasped for air, tilting his forehead against Calum's, "You sure about this Cal, I don't want you to-" Calum kissed him hard enough to bruise, "You're so much hotter when you know how to shut the fuck up Ash."
"Fair enough," he let out a little laugh before reconnecting there mouths and carrying Calum to one of the double beds and placing him in his lap, using his newly freed hand to get lost in those mix of midnight vanilla curls before giving them a soft tug and causing Calum to whine against his lips from pain and pleasure, "I see somethings never change," the smirk was evident in Ashtons words and for once Calum didn't even try to argue.
"Fuck you," Calum whispered against his lips, no amount of malice in his words.
"And here I thought you were a bottom and would want to be the one getting fucked?" Ashton raised a brow, causing Calum's tanned cheeks to tint pink.
He was right though and fuck did Calum always look so pretty under him.
He was every bit as sexy as the last time this happened less than a year ago now, both of them searching for something in each other to mask the pain that bloomed into something more.
He loved to watch the way those tanned ink shoulders flexed with every gut wrenching thrust he knew the other man wanted, the way his ass would bounce every time his hips clapped against them with enough vigor to shake the headboard almost made him cum from the sight, and the way he would cry out a mix of Ashtons name and God into the pillows like he was reciting some unholy prayer.
He had Luke to thank for this though.
Had he never broken both their hearts then Calum wouldn't be a withering mess begging to cum beneath him and unlike Luke, he would admit how fucking hot it was to have their bassist on his knees sucking his cock behind his drum set before they go on stage where everyone could catch them but none had yet.
This definitely wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last they seeked comfort in each other from their shared trauma and a need to feel something.
It didn’t take much longer for them both to peak and Calum to cover his hand and pillow in an small puddle of cum.
Calum panted, now stuffed to the brim with his hot load, before Ashton pulled out and grabbed a warm rag to clean him up.
It had almost become routine, one or the other would get pissed off at the sight of Luke with someone else and would take it out on each other. It was far from the healthiest coping mechanism, but it was theirs none the less
Ashton laid beside Calum, earning those delicate fingers pushing back his sandy strands that stuck to his forehead as Calum gave him that same look he gave Luke on stage, "You're pretty hot for a drummer with two braincells,"
Ashton mocked offence before pulling Calum to his chest like he had many nights before hand, "And you're pretty cute for an uptight bassist who is allergic to the word fun," Ashton clapped back.
"I know how to have fun," Calum huffed, poking him firmly in the chest.
"Whatever you say princess," Ashton could feel the eyeroll he couldn't see but that was enough for him, this was enough for him, at least until everything reset like clockwork tomorrow but who really knows what tomorrow brings.
Right now, he just takes solace in knowing he fucked Calum well enough that the insomniac is passed out snoring on his chest.