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Luke looks good. He knows he looks good. Too good, possibly, for this wedding. No offense to the wedding. It’s the best kind—unpretentious, laid back, filled with people who actually know and love each other instead of distant relatives appearing out of obligation. But it’s an informal, small town wedding. They’re at the rustic lodge near the country club golf course. It’s not really a glittery boots occasion.
If he’d bothered to think about it, Luke would have realized this sooner. He just forgets, when he so rarely comes back to his hometown, that this is how things are. Simple. No frills. Jell-o salad and tater tot casserole.
Maybe he likes it a little bit. Being the most glamorous person at this wedding reception, sticking out in a good way. He smooths his hands over the front of his (entirely-too-expensive-but-worth-it) silver silk button down while he surveys all the lodge has to offer.
There’s a buffet along one wall, a wedding cake displayed in the corner that looks like clip art of a wedding cake, a small dance floor along the opposite wall, outfitted with rainbow strobe lights, and rows of picnic tables filling the space in the middle of the room. No assigned tables, which is unsurprising, but also leaves Luke in a bit of a conundrum.
Because so far, he doesn’t know anyone here except the bride and groom. They’re high school friends he’s stayed in touch with through college and beyond, and Luke kind of expected at least a few other guests to be familiar faces from high school. But looking around the room, that’s just not the case at all.
It’s fine, it’s cool. He can do the thing where he wanders around a little, stands in a corner, wanders some more, gets a drink, stands in a different corner. It makes it look like he’s mingling when he’s really just performing an elaborate contemporary dance solo. He doesn’t mind it, because he likes people-watching while enjoying free alcohol. The most disappointing thing is actually just that he’d been hoping to wow some of his old high school acquaintances with how hot he’s gotten since they last saw each other.
That’s fine too. That’s what Instagram is for.
The first order of business is the free alcohol. Through the mass of smiling, chatty strangers, Luke spots a small bar set up at the opposite end of the buffet, and he makes his way over slowly, trying to get eyes on the Jell-o salad and tater tot casserole situation. Hmm. Snickers salad. Not his favorite variety of Jell-o salad, but it’ll do. And the tater tot casserole is plentiful and looks deliciously brown.
When he makes it over to the bar, the bartender is smiling at him. Luke’s used to bartenders smiling at him, and he doesn’t hesitate to smile back. It’s not until the bartender’s smile gets wider in response that Luke realizes.
It’s Calum Hood. Calum Hood is the one person Luke knows from high school at this wedding, and apparently he’s tending bar and smiling at Luke. How the fuck is Calum Hood the one person Luke knows at this wedding?
“Hey!” he greets as Luke approaches, voice much more casual than his glowing smile would suggest. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yeah,” Luke replies simply, stringing together an awkward shrug-wave. It’s just how he is. He’s come to accept it. Most people don’t mind if you’re a little awkward if you look like he does, so he gets by. “It’s definitely been a while. Didn’t expect to see you here.”
It doesn’t make sense. Calum Hood didn’t hang out with Luke and his friends. He was in an adjacent friend group that occasionally crossed over for a party or an impromptu movie night, but if there was only going to be one other person at this wedding Luke knows, it absolutely shouldn’t be Calum Hood.
Calum chuckles lightly around his charming grin. “My mom’s a friend of Lucie’s mom. I’ve been bartending on the side while I’m in law school. She talked me into doing this for free.”
“Law school,” Luke repeats, impressed but not surprised. Calum was always an overachiever. So was Luke. That’s the basis of their entire relationship, actually.
Who could get a better grade on their science tests? Who could finish their math homework first? Who could get the award for best attendance in third fucking grade? And later, in high school, they found ways to nag each other during class too. Good-natured ribbing, for the most part. Ripping each other to shreds for the lols.
“I know,” Calum says, lips twisting into a grim frown. “It’s insane. I’m so stupid.”
Luke fights a smile as he shakes his head. “Already trying to get me to say you’re smart?”
Calum shrugs, his lips pulling into a coy smirk. “You look good,” he says instead of answering. He makes no secret of the way his eyes roam over Luke’s body while he speaks.
And the thing is, Luke can tell Calum means it. And maybe his chest flutters a little bit when Calum adds, “Really good.”
“So do you,” Luke replies quickly. Calum does look good. So fucking good. Throughout their brief interaction, Luke’s been trying not to stare, trying not to focus on the fact that somehow Calum Hood is actually the hottest person at this wedding, not Luke.
He was always cute in school, but now—he’s a man, and he carries himself like one. His strong jaw is emphasized by a thin layer of stubble, and his black button down shirt fits him perfectly, hugging his body just close enough that Luke can see the muscles lurking beneath the fabric. His voice is deeper than Luke remembers, too, and there’s just something different about his demeanor. In a good way. In a sexy way. Quiet confidence mixed with the same charisma that has always drawn Luke to him, except refined and targeted, dialed to the charming setting. His warm brown eyes are literally sparkling.
He seems pleased by the compliment, still smiling crookedly when he asks, “Can I make you a drink?” His hands are already moving behind the bar, gathering a glass and reaching for a bottle. “I wanna see if I can guess what you like.”
“Mystery drink?” Luke cocks an eyebrow, staring at Calum’s face while he’s preoccupied mixing Luke’s drink. “Sure, why not.” The way Calum purses his lips and wrinkles his brow thoughtfully while he considers what to pour reminds Luke of the way he used to glare at him when Luke would finish a test first.
“We never drank together in high school, did we?” Calum glances up to meet Luke’s gaze, sounding genuinely confused and a little distraught by this revelation. “That’s right,” he continues, shaking his head while he shakes up his Luke-specific concoction with ice. “I remember. You were never at the parties at Ashton’s farm. That’s when the beer came out.”
“No one ever invited me,” Luke replies, not really offended by it because he had no idea he was even missing anything at the time, and now he’s long past caring about why he might have been excluded from those parties. He went to plenty of others. “It’s not like I was anti-Ashton’s parties or something.”
A meaningful look passes over Calum’s face as he sets the mystery drink on the bar in front of Luke. If Luke’s not mistaken, there’s guilt in that look. He cocks his head, imploring Calum with wide eyes to spit out whatever he’s withholding.
“It’s not because people didn’t want you there,” Calum says, adding a lemon wedge to the side of the glass. “We just…respected you.”
“We?”
“Everyone. Everyone who partied at Ashton’s. I saw the shit that went down there and…you were too good for that.”
Luke shakes his head as Calum speaks, struggling to comprehend the concept of a pile of high school kids somehow concluding that he, specifically, shouldn’t be invited to these parties, but for nice reasons? There’s no way.
“And this was a fucking group decision? I probably barely even knew half the people at those parties. And somehow they had an opinion on it?”
It just doesn’t make sense. Luke wasn’t anybody special in high school. He had a lot of friends, but he wasn’t exactly popular. And even if, somehow, all these kids secretly held him in some sort of high regard, they were teenagers. They wouldn’t give a fuck about protecting him from cheap beer and drunken groping.
“A couple of us had an opinion on it,” Calum says vaguely. “And our opinions mattered a lot.” He nudges the drink closer to Luke and smiles expectantly. It’s obvious he’s not going to offer up any additional information, so Luke shakes it off and reaches for the drink.
It’s clear, which doesn’t give Luke much clue what to expect from the taste. A quick sniff. Not bad. “Don’t smell it!” Calum protests. “Come on, that’s cheating!”
“Too late,” Luke replies, bouncing his eyebrows as he takes a drink. It’s a little sweet, but not too sweet, and it goes down easy, but Luke can feel the alcohol tickling his senses. Something about it makes him want to giggle. Licking his lips, he smiles at Calum, impressed. “It’s good. Really good.”
“It’s a California Dream,” Calum says, hands fussing with the bottles behind the bar aimlessly, but his eyes stay on Luke, sparkly and sure. “Seemed appropriate for you.”
It takes Luke a second to understand, and he murmurs, unsure, “Because of UCLA?” It seems like a stretch that Calum would remember where he went to college, but he can’t think of any other reason he’d scream California Dream.
“Yeah, because of UCLA,” Calum says, nodding, “And also because that’s what you turned into after being there, apparently.”
“Is it the bleached hair?” Luke smirks and runs his hand through his bleached blonde curls. In high school he kept his hair shorter, just a few waves occasionally sneaking through his natural dark blonde hair.
Calum nods enthusiastically. “That’s definitely part of it.” His hands start moving with intention again, reaching for a bottle of tequila, and Luke realizes he’s already drained his cocktail. It doesn’t surprise him. He has a real issue with mindless drinking when he’s in social situations. Not because of the alcohol, but just because if he’s holding a glass, he’s drinking from it. It’s a habit.
“Trying to get me wasted?” Luke teases, setting his empty glass on the bar and watching Calum work.
“Absolutely yes,” Calum says with a sly grin. “Since I never got to see it in high school, I wanna see it now.”
“Fortunately for you, I don’t know a single other person at this wedding, so I have nothing better to do than hang out by the bar and drink all night.”
“Glad to see you’re just as charming as I remember.” Calum slides the new drink toward Luke, and Luke picks it up with a reticent shake of his head.
✓＋
Things start to get blurry after the third California Dream. Just a little softness around the edges, and Luke’s mouth starts opening and saying things before he even has a chance to think about it too hard. “I had a crush on you in, like, third grade.”
“Did you really?” Calum asks, voice pitching higher as he glances at Luke while he uncorks a bottle of wine. There’s an actual line at the bar, and Luke feels a little like those people who greet guests with leis and mai tais when they arrive at fancy tropical resorts. Although he’s not actually doing anything except hovering next to Calum and smiling, he likes to think he’s helping to create a welcoming atmosphere.
“Yeah,” Luke says, nodding. His head feels heavy, but he likes the way he gets a gentle breeze on his face when he tilts it toward the giant ceiling fan. “And in fifth grade. And in eighth grade. And in eleventh grade.”
“So you were on a schedule,” Calum says, chuckling while he pours a glass of rosé. “I had a crush on you in third grade too.”
Luke grins, sneaking a chunk of pineapple out of Calum’s garnish tray. “I know you did.”
“How did you know?”
Shrugging, Luke scans the room, eyes landing on the empty dance floor. When is the music going to start? He’s fuckin’ ready to dance. “I didn’t really know. Just had a feeling.”
Calum smiles at the last person in line at the bar as he hands them their glass of wine, then turns to Luke and sighs heavily, crossing his arms over his chest. The material of his shirt wrinkles and folds and stretches in all the right ways. “From the first day of school after I moved here, I knew you were going to be a problem.”
“A problem?” Luke feigns offense, scoffing and sucking violently at his tiny straw, trying to get to the dredges of his drink. Calum rolls his eyes and starts making another. By the end of the night, Luke’s going to have the process of Calum assembling a California Dream emblazoned in his mind for eternity. “I wasn’t the one who showed up and immediately acted like I owned the place.”
“I didn’t,” Calum whines, bending down to retrieve a new bottle of tequila from beneath the bar. An involuntary sound falls out of Luke’s mouth, a cross between ooh and wow that he manages to hold under his breath as he tilts his head to get a better view. Calum pops back up, a perplexed smirk on his face when he catches Luke with his head tilted and his mouth hanging open. “You just got upset when I finished the times table test before you and decided right then and there to make me your mortal enemy.”
Is that what happened? Luke can’t really remember how it all started. “And you liked it,” he says, perching on the edge of the bar with his arms folded on top.
“I liked you,” Calum says, a little too easily, pouring Luke’s drink. “I always liked you. Even when I hated you.”
“That really says something about you.” Luke has no idea what, but it feels like the right thing to say. It’s just the kind of thing that comes naturally to Luke when faced with Calum. Sarcastic comments and vague teasing. That’s the agreement.
Calum understands the agreement. “And what does it say about you that you also liked me approximately every two to three years?”
Luke’s lips spread into a slow smile as Calum sets his fourth…fifth? California Dream in front of him. “That I had great taste at a young age.”
“If you had such great taste, then why’d you stop liking me in between? Was I a real mess in sixth grade?”
“Everyone’s a real mess in sixth grade,” Luke mumbles. Then he flicks his eyes to Calum’s, stomach flipping when he realizes Calum’s taking advantage of Luke’s current position folded over the bar to stare down his shirt. “I didn’t really stop. I just got temporarily distracted with newer and shinier guys.”
“Yeah,” Calum says, bittersweet, meeting Luke’s eyes, unbothered by being caught staring. “I noticed. Privileges of being the shiniest of them all, I guess.”
“You’re talking about me?”
“You knew you were hot.”
Now. Now Luke knows he’s hot. In high school, he was simply not hot. He frowns, confused, and nearly takes his eye out with his straw when he cranes his neck to take a drink from his fresh cocktail. “No,” he says decisively, smacking his lips to catch the delinquent straw, then, through a sip, “Didn’t know. Wasn’t hot.”
Calum snorts. “Okay, sure.”
“Your ass was really hot when you bent down to get that bottle of tequila.” In Luke’s current state of mind, this seems like the best way to ease them into a conversation that makes him less confused.
“You’re really something,” Calum says, lips twitching amusedly while he watches Luke struggle with his straw. It would be a lot easier if he used his hands, but his hands are very happy right where they are, and Luke needs to conserve his energy for the dancing that definitely has to be starting any time now.
“Cake time!” A piercing shriek rings out, and a tiny woman appears from somewhere behind Calum. “Oh my god, is this Luke?”
More confusion. Should Luke know this woman? Calum doesn’t seem surprised to see her, laughing as Luke straightens up and adjusts his shirt, suddenly under observation by the tiny woman who he feels compelled to impress. “Yeah Mom, it’s Luke.”
Mom. Okay. Calum’s mom. No, Luke has never met her. That he can remember. But it’s one of those things. Luke’s mom could probably recognize Calum too, just based on showing up at school band concerts and chaperoning field trips, so it stands to reason Luke might qualify as a minor celebrity to Calum’s mom.
“You grew up nice!” she says, reaching for Luke’s hands. “Be my date to the cake.”
She starts pulling, and Luke looks helplessly at Calum, who smiles, shrugs, and says quietly, “She’s blasted.” Luke laughs brightly, and Calum says, just as quietly, “Bring me back some cake?”
Luke nods as Calum’s mom tugs him toward the cake, where there’s an actual line forming. When they join the back, she starts lifting onto her toes, using Luke’s hands for leverage, craning her neck to try to see over the heads of the crowd. “Can you see what they’ve got?”
“Looks like champagne, strawberries and cream, and dark chocolate mocha,” Luke reads off the rustic chalkboard signs hanging beneath the table next to the cake. A harried-looking woman is putting out plates with cake slices as quickly as her cake cohort can cut them, and the line pauses every so often as a guest peruses their options.
“Thanks honey.” Calum’s mom is staring at him. Like, intensely. And smiling. “Putting that strapping frame to good use.” Is that a fucking wink? Is Calum’s mom flirting with him? Rad. This is going to be so satisfying to rub in Calum’s face in five minutes.
He smiles right back, tossing his shoulders back so his shirt stretches open and more of his chest is on display. “Those flavors all sound so good. How am I gonna pick?”
Calum’s mom’s eyes go wide, and she sets a hand on Luke’s chest, lifting onto her toes to try to talk into his ear. “Oh honey, you don’t have to pick. You can have them all!”
“You’re a very wise woman,” Luke says, catching sight of Calum watching them from across the room with a curious smirk. He shrugs at Calum and nods his head toward the table full of cake. Calum points at the strawberries and cream sign.
Noticing the interaction, Calum’s mom says, “You two were always so cute together. So alike, but just different enough for that spark.”
This can’t continue. “Not trying to be rude here, I’m having a great time in the cake line with you, but I’m pretty sure I’ve never actually met you before in my life. How do you know so much about me?”
Calum’s mom bursts into loud, gregarious laughter, leaning on Luke heavily to hold her balance. “The parents talk, honey. The teachers talk. Calum talked.”
The opening notes of Hot In Herre ring out loudly, and Calum’s mom screeches, scooting behind Luke and bouncing toward the dance floor. “Sorry honey, it’s my song!”
Upon his return to the bar, arms loaded with four different plates of cake, Luke immediately asks, “Why is your mom’s song Hot In Herre?”
Calum cringes, grabbing plates out of Luke’s hands before they spill onto the floor. “Everything is her song when she’s drunk. Why the fuck do you have so much cake?”
“I wanted to try all the different kinds. Hey, is your mom also a shameless flirt when she’s drunk, or am I special? Because she was totally feeling me up in the cake line. She definitely winked at me,” Luke gloats, tongue catching between his teeth when he smiles smugly at Calum.
“A little of both,” Calum says warily, eyes narrowing as he glares at his mom, obliviously bopping away on the dance floor under rainbow strobe lights.
“I think I’m gonna go dance with her. After cake.” Where to begin? Luke wiggles his fingers over the plates of cake, considering. The chocolate one is awfully tempting.
“You’re gonna leave me here all sad and alone so you can flirt with my mom?”
Luke snags a fork and scoops up a bite of chocolate cake. “And dance.”
“You can dance back here. With me.”
“With you? You’d dance?” Luke asks gleefully, recalling all the times at high school dances that Calum would refuse to actually dance to anything except slow songs. They never danced together, they never even really hung out together at dances, but Luke paid attention.
Calum seems to understand exactly what Luke is thinking, rolling his eyes in self-deprecation. “Of course I’ll fuckin’ dance. I’m not as stupid as I was in high school.”
“What about your important bartending duties?” Luke asks, smiling as he chews, fully aware he probably has cake crumbs spilling out his mouth in an extremely unflattering way, but he’s a little too drunk to care.
“I can multitask.”
The way Calum says it, confident and sure, and with a dark playfulness in his tone, makes Luke’s breath catch and his eyes widen. Luke tries to match that tone when he replies, “Prove it.”
✓＋
“For a guy who doesn’t know anyone here, you sure are the life of the party.” Calum’s covered in a sheen of sweat. Luke wants to lick it off him. And there’s no excuse for it. He’s not even that drunk anymore after a solid hour of dancing in the corner with Calum.
At first it was just bouncing around, silly little performances to cliche wedding tunes, but as guests started leaving and the bar got quieter, Calum spent more time in the corner with Luke. Each song brought him infinitesimally closer, so slowly Luke didn’t even notice until suddenly there was barely any space between them.
“Only for you, Cal,” Luke says, pressing his body against Calum’s as he talks into his ear. “And your mom.”
Calum dissolves into laughter, curling into Luke, hands falling against Luke’s hips to steady himself. Luke happily takes the opportunity to wrap his arms loosely around Calums waist. “Fuck,” Calum mumbles as his laugh tapers off into quiet wheezes. “I can’t believe you’re here and I’m dancing with you and you look like this and you’re still so fucking infuriating.”
“You’re definitely getting docked points for that run-on sentence,” Luke says glibly. “No wonder I got a higher score than you on the English section of the ACT.”
“Why do you love torturing me so much?” Calum mourns, giving Luke extremely convincing puppy dog eyes.
Luke smiles, tightening his arms around Calum’s waist. His body feels incredible under Luke’s hands. “I don’t torture you.”
“Yeah, right,” Calum snorts, shaking his head, teeth digging into his bottom lip. “You’ve been torturing me from the day we’ve met. But it’s okay. I enjoy it. Always have.” Luke wishes it were his teeth digging into Calum’s lip. Dammit. It’s been ages since Luke’s been this attracted to someone, to the point where every thought in his mind somehow leads back to how badly he wants to touch and kiss and fuck.
He remembers wanting to kiss Calum in high school. It was always there, lurking over every interaction, and Luke felt like maybe Calum wanted to kiss him too, but there was so much history between them. Maybe they’d been flirting with each other for the last decade, but maybe Luke just wanted that to be true.
There’s no mistaking that they’ve been flirting with each other tonight. And it is just a night. One night, maybe the last time Luke will ever see Calum again in his entire life.
Licking his lips, Luke flicks his eyes to Calum’s. There’s a dare in them. A challenge. Luke knows that look, and he’s never backed down before. He leans down and kisses Calum, closing his eyes and letting it sink in. He’s kissing Calum Hood.
The flashing strobe lights blink behind Luke’s eyelids as he feels Calum’s hands gripping his hips tighter, pulling him closer. His chest feels like it might explode when Calum kisses him back with an intensity that really does feel like it’s been years in the making.
He murmurs a quiet “oh my god,” against Calum’s lips, and that just encourages Calum to flick his tongue into Luke’s mouth and run his hand up Luke’s chest and fuck Calum Hood is pushing him up against a wall to make out with him while Love Me Like You Do plays over the crackling speaker. It actually could be high school, in some alternate universe where either one of them had gotten their shit together and made a move.
Except there’s no fucking way Calum was this good of a kisser in high school. There’s no way he’d be so confident with his hands, one of which is currently gliding over Luke’s shoulder to rest against his neck and pull his face closer, while the other flirts with the idea of grabbing Luke’s ass while he’s backed against a wall where no one can see.
It’s actually perfect that Luke doesn’t know a single person at this wedding, because now he doesn’t have to care if anyone sees him making out with Calum in the corner.
“Christ,” Calum says quietly, pulling away and staring at Luke with dark eyes, mouth hanging open just enough to make Luke desperate to kiss him again. “If I asked you to meet up after I’m done here, would you do it?”
“Yes.” What the fuck else would he do? Everything in this town closes at nine anyway. Besides, this is poetic. An opportunity for closure by finally fucking his teenage crush. “Where? When?”
Calum chuckles, shaking his head gently as he backs away from Luke, a space opening up between them right when the music stops and the overhead lights flicker on, urging guests to get the fuck out. “Where are you staying? Here?” Luke nods eagerly, and Calum grins. “Give me, like, twenty minutes to clean up, and I’ll meet you at the hotel bar?”
✓＋
Calum makes it there in fifteen minutes, and he smiles brightly as he approaches Luke at the bar. “Is their California Dream as good as mine?” he asks, nodding at Luke’s glass.
“It’s just water,” Luke says, setting down the almost-empty glass. “Kinda want to be in my right mind for this.”
Nodding slowly, Calum reaches for the glass and brings it to his lips. “I like that,” he says, eyeing Luke over the glass before he tosses it back, finishing off what’s left of the water.
“So,” Luke says, leaning closer to Calum. “Wanna go back to my room?”
“Straight to the point, then?” Calum smirks, raising his eyebrows like he’s impressed, which fills Luke with a strange kind of pride. For whatever reason, it still really matters to him, showing off a bit for Calum. Earning his respect.
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve been waiting all night. Kinda ready to just get to it.”
“Yeah,” Calum says roughly, eyes tracing over Luke slowly, thoroughly. “I have too.”
Jesus, that look. That voice. Luke might’ve had a few different crushes on Calum Hood in his younger years, but he’d never really thought of him like this. Contemplated kissing him, sure, but it’s not like he thought Calum Hood is so sexy at any point in his 16-year-old mind. Now, though…it’s all he can think as he reaches for Calum’s wrist and pulls him toward the elevator.
“This elevator really doesn’t have any sense of urgency, does it?” Calum jokes, pulling Luke against his side while they wait in the vestibule, hand dipping low on the side of Luke’s hip.
“I guess it probably figures we’ve waited long enough, what’s a few more minutes?”
“Then it obviously has no idea how unbearable it is waiting for the chance to fuck Luke Hemmings.”
Luke laughs, covering his mouth when his laugh echoes loudly around the bank of elevators. “Must be a uniquely you problem.”
“It definitely could be,” Calum says, pulling Luke toward the elevator as soon as it dings. “But I kinda doubt it.” He jabs the button to shut the elevator doors quickly, and Luke leans over him to push the button for his floor. “I can think of at least half a dozen people from high school who probably have the same problem.”
“What?” Luke wrinkles his forehead, intentionally working to keep his voice steady, but this is extremely new information to him. Not that it fucking matters now, but that doesn’t make it any less intriguing.
Calum actually giggles at Luke’s quietly stunned reaction, high-pitched and breathy and fucking adorable. This is a version of Calum 16-year-old Luke very much wanted to kiss. “Were you really this clueless?” Calum asks, widening his eyes at Luke just as the elevator doors open on the sixth floor. “I wondered sometimes, if you didn’t know, but it seemed like you had to.”
“Calum,” Luke says seriously, stepping out of the elevator. “I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”
“Later,” Calum says, a sly smile on his lips. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Luke doesn’t really want to let it slide, because he really wants to hear the gossip. Being with Calum just makes him revert to a high school brain, apparently. But being with Calum also makes him really want to fuck Calum, which does seem like the more pressing matter right now, so he grabs Calum’s hand firmly, lacing their fingers together.
“It feels like this should feel weirder,” Luke says through a disbelieving laugh, eyes following the patterns of the hotel carpet while he leads Calum down the hall toward his room.
“What, the fact that we know we’re about to hook up for the first time after knowing each other for twenty years?”
“Something like that,” Luke says, slipping his key card out of his back pocket to unlock the door to his room. “It’s hard to explain.”
It’s the history of it all. The build-up that Luke didn’t quite realize had been build-up until now, with Calum’s hands resting against his waist and Calum’s rough, late-night laugh tickling his ears.
The light on the door flips to green, the lock clicks open, and Luke takes a second to appreciate the moment. This is officially happening. The bubbling excitement of that living in the moment feeling isn’t something Luke feels often. He plans on making the most of it.
Calum seems to feel the same way, putting his hands on Luke’s shoulders, thumbs pressed gently against the sides of his neck, and leaning close as soon as the door swings shut behind them. “Can I kiss y—”
Luke nods, already leaning down to catch Calum’s lips mid-sentence. He makes a small sound of delighted surprise when Luke’s mouth cuts him off. High school Luke probably wouldn’t have taken this kind of initiative, and there’s something satisfying about existing beyond the scope of Calum’s expectations. It’s nice, still being able to surprise someone he’s kind of known forever.
The kiss quickly turns hot and frenzied, neither of them feeling a particular need to hold back or take it slow when they already know where it’s going. Calum surprises Luke too, with his attentiveness to detail. He’s not just kissing Luke deeply, he’s deploying finely-honed techniques to drive Luke very crazy very quickly.
The way he uses his hands, needy but not greedy, eager to touch, but touching in a way that makes Luke feel so good. The way he uses his mouth, dragging Luke right to the edge of insanity with his tongue and his lips before he pulls away and kisses gently along Luke’s jaw, lulling him into a false sense of security before he goes right back to Luke’s mouth, making Luke whine.
But Luke has a few tricks of his own.
Grazing his fingernails over the front of Calum’s shirt, he attaches his lips to Calum’s neck, licking, sucking, biting, until Calum is gasping, hands slipping from Luke’s back to cup his ass and pull him closer.
Calum breaks away breathlessly to say, “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to get my hands on your ass.”
Luke smiles, pressing his hips against Calum, encouraging him. “You could tell me.”
The firm squeeze of Calum’s hands against his ass makes Luke’s stomach twist pleasantly. Calum raises an eyebrow and sighs wistfully. “A really long time.”
Luke laughs and Calum’s eyes light up. “I want to fuck you so bad,” Calum says, sagging against Luke and kissing hotly along his neck. It’s overwhelming—the words, the way it feels.
“Okay.” It’s a little strangled, but it’s the best Luke can do under the circumstances.
“Okay?” There’s no reason for Calum to be surprised at this point, but Luke finds it kind of sweet that he’s still a little disbelieving. Still checking to make sure it’s real and that Luke wants him.
Luke really fucking wants him. And he wants Calum to know it. “What do you want?” He brushes his hand over the front of Calum’s pants, a warm tingle spreading through him when he feels Calum’s hard dick under his palm.
Calum’s breath is shaky when he says, “I want to make you feel good. I want to see you. Holy fuck, I want to see you. And hear you.”
“I think we can work with that,” Luke says, smiling against Calum’s skin, then pressing his lips against the spot of bare chest where his shirt is unbuttoned, fingers working to unbutton it the rest of the way. “What else?”
Calum’s hands scrape around the sides of Luke’s hips, pulling him closer. “I want your mouth on me. Want you inside me.” He runs his hands up under Luke’s shirt, touching eagerly, a bit of wonder in his dark eyes, which Luke understands.
It’s surreal seeing Calum Hood like this. There’s probably wonder in Luke’s eyes too when he says, “Let’s do that, then.” He pulls Calum’s shirt open and pushes it down his shoulders, kicking off his glittery boots while he works.
“What about you?” Calum asks airily, impatiently tugging at the bottom of Luke’s shirt to try to pull it over his head, not even bothering with the buttons. It makes Luke stumble while he’s trying to shake his boot off, and he crashes headfirst into Calum’s chest, laughing breathlessly. “Shit, sorry.” Calum’s hands land on Luke’s chest to try to steady him, and Luke just shrugs, dropping to his knees.
“While I’m down here…” Luke smiles up at Calum while reaching for his belt, and what a fucking view. Calum’s bare chest, decorated with tattoos Luke didn’t know he had, rising and falling rapidly as he looks at Luke with an almost too-sweet open-mouthed smile, messy curls spilling over his forehead, this glint in his eyes like he can’t quite believe his luck. “Might as well start with my mouth on you.”
While Luke works to get Calum’s pants off, Calum pushes his hands into Luke’s hair, softly pulling at the curls. “Big fan of this plan. But I still—Jesus—” He pauses when Luke gets a hand on his dick, gasping softly, fingers stilling in Luke’s hair. “—I still want to know what you want.”
“This is a good start,” Luke says, watching his hand stroking Calum gently, kind of stuck on the fact that he’s actually making eye contact with Calum Hood’s dick. Past Luke would be absolutely astonished. “I want you in my mouth.” He increases the pressure of his hand, and Calum sags against the wall as Luke continues. “And then I want to make you come with just my dick.”
“You think you’re up for that?” Calum asks doubtfully.
Luke flicks his eyes up to him, lips just barely brushing against the tip of Calum’s cock when he says, “You don’t think I can?”
Calum’s breath hitches and his fingers drag against Luke’s scalp, but he still has the audacity to say, “It’s kind of tricky. Trickier than Mr. Mitchell’s physics class.”
Yeah, he totally doesn’t think Luke can do it, because he knows exactly how much Luke struggled to maintain an A in physics. “That class was only hard for me because it wasn’t my area of expertise.” (It comes out of his mouth almost automatically, because Luke’s thought it to himself so many times since senior year.)
“And making me come untouched is your area of expertise?” Calum wonders, smug smile faltering slightly as Luke starts stroking his dick again—for the express purpose of wiping the smug smile off his face. One point to Luke.
“You know I’m a quick learner,” Luke says, pausing to suck at Calum’s tip, just enough to make him hiss. “And I have a fantastic report card record on the subject.”
“I dunno,” Calum says, still skeptical. “I’m, like, the advanced placement version of the class.”
Christ, he’s acting like finding his prostate is the equivalent of getting a perfect score on the ACT or something. Hand gripping tightly to the base, Luke takes Calum’s dick fully into his mouth, immediately deploying some of his best tongue tricks in an attempt to convince Calum of his skills.
It works and also backfires completely. “Holy shit,” Calum gasps. “I knew you’d be good with your mouth.” But then, “Doesn’t mean your dick is magic, though.”
“Fuck you,” Luke mumbles around Calum’s dick, pulling off to make sure Calum can hear him loud and clear when he says, “I’m gonna do it.”
“Fine,” Calum says, sighing softly as Luke guides Calum’s dick back into his mouth, sucking gently. “If you say so.”
Luke growls in frustration and Calum exhales sharply, hips thrusting toward Luke’s mouth. “Shit,” he says, rubbing his fingers against Luke’s scalp. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, you’re gonna be sorry,” Luke says, getting up off the floor and grabbing Calum’s hips to push him toward the bed. “When I make you come with just my dick and you have to admit defeat.”
Calum laughs loudly, bouncing as he falls into the bed, watching with interest while Luke kicks his pants off. “Maybe I’m secretly rooting for you.”
This is so wonderfully strange, getting the cute, teasing laugh Luke’s heard so many times before from Calum, but never like this. Never with Calum naked underneath him, hands grabbing greedily for Luke’s waist, dick hard and blushing warm pink, dark eyes swimming with want.
“Gimme your ass again,” Calum encourages, wiggling his fingers against Luke’s waist, trying to drag him into his lap.
Luke tears Calum’s hands off him and keeps ahold of his wrists, pushing them over Calum’s head until he’s lying flat beneath Luke. “Fuck off. I’ve got a test to pass.”
Delight spreads across Calum’s face, lighting up his eyes and turning his lips up at the corners. “What if letting me grab your ass will help you pass?”
Settling himself across Calum’s hips, Luke rubs his ass against Calum’s dick, feeling Calum’s wrists twitch beneath his hands. “Oh god,” Calum mutters, breath staggering.
“You can grab my ass as much as you want,” Luke says, freeing Calum’s hands. “But only if it doesn’t fuck with my process.”
“No clicking my mechanical pencil while you’re working,” Calum says knowingly, grabbing Luke’s ass hard and pressing his hips up against it so it’s Luke’s turn to choke on air. “Fine. It’ll be a fair test.”
“Thank you,” Luke replies, taking a second just to look at Calum beneath him, staring back at him with this strange look, warm and soft, but also hungry. Luke loves it, being looked at like he’s a fresh baked chocolate chip cookie and Calum hasn’t eaten all day.
“You gonna get on with it or what?” Calum taunts with a sweet smile. “Or is this part of the process?”
“You’re really fucking hot, okay? I”m just trying to take some time to appreciate that.”
“Can I just say,” Calum starts, propping himself up on his elbows to watch as Luke climbs off his lap to dig through the toiletry bag on the desk in search of lube and a condom, “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any hotter, but you definitely did. It’s actually unbelievable.”
“This isn’t about me,” Luke retorts, tossing Calum a mischievous grin as he extracts the goods from his toiletry bag and comes back over to the bed. Where to start? How can he best use what he knows about Calum to take him apart?
Calum narrows his eyes and frowns at Luke like he’s insane for even suggesting such a thing. “No, it’s definitely about you. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t you.”
“Both of us, then,” Luke says, situating himself on the bed with his back against the headboard and gesturing for Calum to climb on, giving him a teasing smile. “It’s about that spark your mom says we’ve always had.”
“She said that?” Calum hitches a leg over Luke’s lap and settles on his thighs. The weight of him feels perfect, grounding Luke in the moment in such a visceral way his breath catches as it all hits him.
“Fuck, you’re—” Luke’s brain can’t locate a word to adequately describe the sight of Calum like this on his lap. So he gives up, swirling his thumb over the head of Calum’s dick while he leans in to drop open-mouthed kisses across his chest.
Calum lets out a loud moan that tails off in a giggle. “Shit. Wasn’t ready for that,” he says quietly, the deepness of his voice vibrating against Luke’s lips as he traces Calum’s tattoos with his tongue, thumb still gently teasing Calum’s cock. “O-okay, I guess you could…do…that.” His voice is low and broken, arms falling across Luke’s shoulders and hooking behind his neck.
When Luke’s tongue brushes over Calum’s nipple, he shudders and his dick kicks against Luke’s hand. Fantastic. Luke goes back in, scraping over Calum’s nipple gently with his teeth. “Fucking hell, I get it,” Calum groans, hips jerking. “You’re a quick learner.”
Laughing quietly, Luke pulls away and reaches for the lube, which Calum uses as an opportunity to dip his head to kiss feverishly down the side of Luke’s neck. A breathy whimper catches in Luke’s throat, tilting his head to encourage Calum. The way Calum’s arms are clasped tightly behind his neck is incredible, holding Luke in place in this steady way that makes him feel so wanted and so cared for all at once.
“God,” Luke mumbles, shivering as Calum’s mouth finds the sensitive spot beneath his jaw, behind his ear, the one that always makes him feel so damn turned on he could die when it gets the right kind of attention. And Calum is giving it the right kind of attention. Luke’s hand twitches with the urgent need to touch his dick, but he resists, instead using it to gently push Calum away.
The way Calum is looking at him—eyes dark and heavy, mouth poised to kiss him again—it just keeps being more. Every time their eyes meet, there’s something new in Calum’s face that makes Luke’s skin tingle, makes his cock harder, makes him even more determined to make Calum come apart.
“You ready?”
Calum blinks slowly, unhooking his arms from Luke’s neck and letting his hands fall on top of Luke’s shoulders, putting a little more space between their bodies. “Whenever you are.” He offers Luke a furtive smile, a quiet challenge in his eyes, watching Luke lube his fingers. “You’re letting me see you,” he says, sweetly bemused, tugging his fingers through the ends of Luke’s hair.
Luke shrugs. “That’s what you said you wanted.” Not really his standard operating procedure, but he’s willing to make some adjustments in service of blowing Calum’s mind.
“I did,” Calum says, nodding vigorously. “I fuckin’ do. I just figured it would come later. Didn’t expect to get to see you while you finger me.”
“Well,” Luke says, cocking his head as he carefully slips his finger inside Calum, smiling when Calum exhales deeply, dropping his head back at the feeling. “You know I’ve always been an overachiever.”
Calum mumbles an agreement while Luke experiments with the angle of his finger, biting his lip in concentration while he pays attention to Calum’s reactions. He can feel Calum watching him, can feel Calum’s fingers starting to dig harder and harder into his shoulders as Luke searches for the angle he’s looking for.
He knows he’s found it when Calum grinds back against his hand and gasps. “God, this is so—” One of Calum’s hands flutters up to sweep Luke’s hair off his forehead, a quiet moan falling from his lips. “You’re so—” He traces his fingers down Luke’s body, over his chest and stomach, then softly brushes them along the underside of Luke’s cock.
“Shit,” Luke grunts, hips bucking at the contact, jostling Calum slightly on his lap.
“Sorry,” Calum murmurs. “I just—god, you’re gonna laugh at me.” Luke glances at Calum curiously while he slowly slips another finger inside him. Calum sighs, some mix of pleasure and resignation. “I just want your dick really bad,” he says.
Luke does laugh, but only because Calum sounds so disappointed in himself. “That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?” He starts working Calum open with his fingers, taking his time, watching Calum’s lips soften into a smile.
“Definitely,” Calum says. He’s giving Luke that heavy look, the one that makes Luke’s cock pulse with want. “But this is more than that. Like I really want your dick. In my hand, in my mouth, inside me—fuck.” He cuts himself off when he sees Luke’s cock jump against his stomach at those words, dribbling precum through the coarse hair below his belly button.
Laughing breathlessly, Luke says, “Well, good news, then. You’re gonna get it,” thrusting his fingers harder, with the absolute intention of forcing Calum to contemplate getting the same kind of attention from Luke’s dick.
Calum gives Luke a distracted thumbs up, back arching when Luke curls his fingers. “Oh god, there,” he groans through a ragged breath.
“What feels good?” Luke asks, keeping his fingers in the same spot, but switching up the rhythm and movement, watching Calum’s reactions.
“I know what you’re doing,” Calum chastises ineffectually. It’s hard to take him terribly seriously as a disciplinarian when he’s gasping and writhing on Luke’s lap. “You’re trying to prepare for your test.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Luke whispers, grasping Calum’s jaw in his hand and pulling him into a quick, messy kiss. He holds Calum’s face close, lips almost touching Calum’s when he continues, “Every good test-taker knows half the battle is reading the instructions correctly.” To emphasize his point, he presses his fingers exactly where he knows Calum needs them, exactly how he knows Calum wants them.
Calum’s entire body jerks and his choked moan pierces the air, loud enough that Luke has no doubt whoever’s on the other side of the wall knows exactly what’s happening in Luke’s hotel room right now.
“I think you’ve got it,” he gasps, forehead pinching and eyes sliding closed, hands gripping tightly against the sides of Luke’s shoulders. “You’re definitely ready to jump to the actual test.”
“I am, or you are?” Luke teases, slowly pulling his fingers out and wrapping his arms around Calum’s waist to flip him sideways onto his back, settling between his legs.
“Pretty sure we both are,” Calum says, cheekily tugging Luke’s dick a few times. Luke retaliates by kneading Calum’s balls gently between his fingers. “Fuck you,” Calum groans, laughing and grabbing Luke’s hips, trying to pull him closer. The sass drops away quickly when he feels Luke’s dick nudging against his ass and he hisses, hips thrusting. “Need your cock.” His voice is heavy and thick and it intensifies the growing ache in Luke’s dick.
“Jesus Christ, Cal,” Luke groans, dropping his head against Calum’s shoulder for a second to gather himself. “I thought you said this would be a fair test.”
He pulls away, hooking his arms behind Calum’s knees to push his legs up, and Calum shakes his head when he catches Luke’s eye. “No funny business. It’s just true. I’ve wanted you for so fucking long.”
When Luke pushes into Calum, the sound he makes is all Luke needs to believe him. It’s pure elation mixed with a sigh of relief, and it twists in Luke’s stomach, sending a wave of heat curling through him.
“Me too,” Luke finds himself saying quietly as he slowly thrusts deeper. “Wanted you forever.”
Calum answers by pulling at Luke’s hips, encouraging him, and Luke’s happy to oblige, fucking Calum slowly, breath staggering at the perfect tight heat. Looking at Calum’s beautiful face, watching his lips form the words, “Your cock feels fucking incredible.”
“You feel fucking incredible.” Luke bites into his lip, hard, to push down the sound he wants to make.
Like he can sense it, Calum reminds him, “Wanna hear you,” fingernails cutting into Luke’s hips. So Luke lets loose the guttural growl that’s caught in his chest, gasping and catching Calum’s mouth with his, biting into Calum’s lip instead as he starts to roll his hips faster. “Fuck yeah,” Calum encourages, mumbling against Luke’s mouth. “God. Yes.” It’s soft and quiet, a disbelieving sigh.
The softness just makes Luke feel fucking insane for some reason, and he releases Calum’s lip so he can focus on thrusting harder and deeper, surrounding his cock so deliciously while Calum rocks against him, asking for more. Luke watches Calum closely, eyes roaming over his body a bit, but mostly his face. His fucking face, somehow still looking back at Luke insatiably. It’s so fucking insane, Luke quietly murmurs, “God, you’re so hot.”
One of Calum’s hands drags through Luke’s hair, pushing it back off his face again. “You’re—” Before he can finish, Luke finds the spot he’s looking for, and Calum cuts himself off with a ragged moan. “God, why are you annoyingly good at everything,” Calum complains, eyes rolling back.
“You don’t sound very annoyed,” Luke taunts kindly, settling into the perfect rhythm with his hips to get Calum right where he wants him. He can feel it now—that euphoric confidence building. Knowing he’s got this test in the bag. And not just that, but the tension inside him too, pulling him taut, the growing pleasure fizzing through his veins.
Calum smirks, panting as Luke grinds into him, deep but shallow thrusts that make Calum’s jaw tense and his words shaky. “You’re such a fuckin’ show-off. Always—shit that’s good—always have been.”
“You love it,” Luke grunts. He looks down and groans loudly at the sight of Calum’s dick between their bodies, obscenely hard and deep pink against his stomach, glistening precum leaking from the tip. “Besides, you’re not any better.”
“I do love it,” Calum admits breathily, clutching Luke’s ass, desperate for him to keep doing what he’s doing. “But so do you.”
“Fuck yeah I do,” Luke says, just as desperate to keep making Calum feel this good. “It’s kind of our thing.”
“Our thing,” Calum echoes with a small smile, eyes glazing as Luke relentlessly maintains the angle and pace he knows is going to work. If he can just keep at it long enough, it’s gonna happen.
He can see it in the way Calum’s starting to get more and more placid, hands lazy as they scrape across Luke’s back, still looking at Luke, but with an unchanging expression, small gasps falling from his lips, eyes slipping shut and blinking open slowly. He’s lost in the feeling, and he’s getting close.
“You look so good like this,” Luke marvels, risking some multitasking to scrape his teeth over Calum’s nipple. Somehow Calum makes the resulting moan sound indignant, and Luke smiles, adding, “Love it when you’re too stunned by me to speak.”
Calum attempts a laugh, but it’s a breathless sputter that tapers into a quiet “fuck.”
There’s something about Calum underneath him, so uncharacteristically quiet, with that blissed out look on his face. “Fucking incredible,” Luke says, groaning loudly as he feels Calum pulsing around him, dragging him closer to the edge.
“Yeah,” Calum rasps, pressing a surprisingly gentle palm against Luke’s chest. “Let me hear you.”
“God,” Luke whispers deeply, “Do I get to hear you?”
Oh so slowly, Calum’s mouth pulls into a wicked smirk. “Maybe if you do something that makes me need to make noise.”
“Don’t you fuckin’ start,” Luke grumbles, determined as he grinds into Calum, deep and fast, which is a risk because it feels so, so good for him, but he never could back away from one of Calum’s challenges.
It’s a risk that pays off. “Holy fucking—” Calum’s voice pierces the space between them loudly before he catches himself and exhales sharply, fingers digging against the sides of Luke’s hips desperately. Then, quietly, in time with Luke’s thrusts, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
When he comes, his mouth drops open, eyes wide, seeming surprised by the involuntary moan that’s punched out of him, back arching up off the bed as his body tenses and cum spills onto his stomach.
Luke can’t speak. He just watches in awe, body working on instinct alone as he fucks Calum through it. Calum’s grip on his hips relaxes as he starts to come down, and he smiles up at Luke, a disbelieving laugh bubbling out of him. “You fucking did it.”
He doesn’t just sound impressed. He sounds proud. And then, hopeful. “Come on me? So I can see?”
Luke’s overcome with his own disbelieving laugh and he pulls out, hovering over Calum and he stroking his dick quickly, staring at Calum’s glazed smile and the cum against his skin. It feels so good, knowing it’s because of him. Accomplishing something Calum didn’t expect him to be able to do is satisfying, but mostly it’s the knowledge that he made Calum feel incredible in a way he didn’t think was possible.
Calum’s hands are all over him, one kneading his ass while the other gently tugs his balls. Sensory overload, topped off with Calum’s face, keen eyes still hungry for Luke. It’s too much at once. Luke feels his orgasm start to wash over him and he doesn’t try to hold back his choked moan. The waves of pleasure seem to intensify as he watches his cum splattering against Calum’s chest and he whispers a broken, “holy shit” as his body starts to relax.
“Wow,” Calum says, hands gently pressed against Luke’s hips, probably the only thing keeping him from levitating out of the hotel room. “Turns out we’re really good at group projects.”
There’s nothing Luke can do to control the wild smile that takes over his face while he looks down at Calum. His responding easy smile manages to make Luke’s stomach flip.
✓＋
Calum doesn’t leave right away. Luke doesn’t ask him to, and he doesn’t seem in any hurry to go. The night is still young. So after they’ve cleaned up, Luke offers Calum a T-shirt and a drink and they sit in the hotel bed, backs against the mountain of pillows, sipping water, occasionally sighing deeply. Tired but satisfied sighs.
“So now will you tell me about all the people in high school who wanted to fuck me?” Luke asks, making Calum sputter around his glass of water, laughing in surprise.
Wiping his chin, Calum sets the glass on the nightstand and spins himself around with his legs folded beneath him so he can eye Luke suspiciously. “That’s pretty much it,” he says. “Lots of people wanted to fuck you.”
This is completely astonishing to Luke, not at all aligning with the reality of how he experienced high school. “How would you even know that?”
“Because I was one of them,” Calum says easily, “And I heard what people said about you at Ashton’s parties.”
“I wasn’t even there.”
“Exactly. The perfect opportunity for people to talk about how much they wished you were there. How much they’d like to get you drunk and see if you got a little slutty. Once one person brings it up, suddenly everyone’s loose-lipped.”
Luke taps his fingers against his lips, frowning as he searches his memory for anything that would offer any evidence in support of Calum’s tale.
“You really didn’t know?” Calum’s smiling sweetly at him now, back hunched to rest his elbows on his knees, peeking up at Luke with warm eyes.
“No. I really didn’t know.”
“Figures,” Calum says, shaking his head. “Smart in so many ways, oblivious in the ones that could’ve gotten me laid.”
Luke laughs helplessly. “What does that even mean?”
“Well, if you knew I wanted to fuck you, maybe you would’ve made a move so I didn’t have to.”
“You could’ve made a move,” Luke challenges, raising his eyebrows.
“I really couldn’t,” Calum says, shaking his head. “I was terrified of rejection, thinking you had people much hotter than me lined up at your door offering to fuck you.”
“I definitely didn’t,” Luke says through stifled laughter, imagining the scene if his mom had to field a constant stream of horny high school students showing up at their house. “Besides, maybe I didn’t just want to be fucked. Back then I was still kind of a romantic. I wanted a boyfriend or girlfriend. Someone I actually really liked.”
“I know,” Calum says. “So did I. That’s why I couldn’t say anything. It’s a lot worse to get rejected when you actually really like someone than when you just want to hook up.”
“Well,” Luke says quietly. “Same, I guess.”
“But hey, look at us now,” Calum says excitedly, poking Luke’s leg. “Fucking like we should’ve done in high school.”
“This is better,” Luke says confidently. “Back then I definitely couldn’t have pulled off most of what I just did.”
Calum cackles happily, resituating himself so he’s next to Luke, leaning against his shoulder. “I had a really nice time tonight.”
“Me too.” Luke wishes he could touch Calum, but he doesn’t know how to touch him now that the sex is over and there’s nowhere for those touches to lead. It’s not like he can just touch Calum softly, for no reason other than because Calum is right there and he wants to. That feels like it means too much.
“Not just the sex. All of it.”
Hmm. So Calum feels it too. But it still doesn’t matter. They’ve only got tonight.
“Same.”
They both sigh wistfully at the same time, then laugh helplessly. Laughter instead of words, because there aren’t really any words for what’s happening.
Luke has an early flight, so Calum doesn’t stay much longer. He pretends to do a striptease when he takes off Luke’s shirt to change back into his clothes, and Luke laughs even though it makes him a little sad. Gives him a reason to miss Calum before he’s even gone.
At Luke’s door, Calum hugs him tightly, for a long time. “It was really good to see you,” he says softly into Luke’s ear, and it lingers in the air, like he wants to say more.
It’s the moment when, if they were a different kind of person, if they weren’t both so validated by success, they might be a little careless. Luke might give Calum his number, and maybe they’d make an effort to stay in touch, meet up on a free weekend, see where it goes.
But neither of them wants to fail, so they don’t.
✓＋
“Wait, wait, wait.” Massive green eyes stare at Luke from across the table. “You fucked Calum Hood?”
“Can you maybe not yell it, Mike?” Brunch isn’t really the place for screaming about fucking. Luke takes a sip of his drink, trying to maintain his composure, even though he really wants to grin wildly and tell Michael everything. “Yeah, I fucked him.”
“Well?” Michael presses, impatient hands hovering in front of him, a spotlight on Luke. “How the fuck did that happen?”
Luke shrugs casually. Too casually. He doesn’t feel casual about it at all. But Michael doesn’t need to know that. “He was bartending at Lucie’s wedding. One thing led to another.”
Somehow Michael’s eyes get even wider, and an almost proud smile stretches across his lips. “I can’t believe you finally fucked him after all these years. How did it happen? Did he come on to you?”
“It was mutual? I don’t know, we just hung out all night at the reception, and then we kissed, and then I invited him back to my hotel room because apparently I’m in my slut era.”
Nodding knowingly, Michael licks his lips, analyzing the data. “This makes so much sense.”
“Does it?”
“Totally,” Michael says, still nodding. “So much sense.” It does, to Luke, anyway, but he’s not sure why Michael seems so confident about it. Eagerly, Michael asks, “Does he look the same?”
“Sort of,” Luke replies, leaning on the table, staring blankly into his glass while he conjures up a mental image of Calum behind the bar. Of Calum beneath him. “He got really hot, though. Like he basically looks the same, but I didn’t recognize him at first because he’s just, like, I don’t know. More.”
“Was it good?” Michael asks, the excitement in his voice making it hard for Luke to contain his own extreme enthusiasm for the subject.
“Really good,” he says, talking out the side of his mouth while his lips try to force themselves into a crooked smirk at the mere thought of it. “All of it. We had fun.”
Michael scoffs, flailing dramatically over the table in frustration. “God, Luke, not to be weird, but I can’t believe you’re being so coy about this when I am desperate to hear the details. You fucked Calum Hood. After you guys spent fucking years being obsessed with each other! You gotta have more to say than that.”
“Oh, I do,” Luke assures him, inhaling deeply, considering how much to actually share. It’s not that he doesn’t want Michael to know, he just doesn’t really know how to say it correctly. Because maybe he doesn’t want Michael to know all of it, actually, because then he’d know Luke’s secret.
It almost would’ve been better if they hadn’t talked about feelings. Luke used to have feelings for Calum. Calum used to have feelings for him. They didn’t really cover now, because now is irrelevant. They barely know each other now. And they knew they didn’t have much time together. Feelings didn’t matter.
But Luke can’t stop thinking about it.
About that night, about the way Calum looked at him like he was everything and made him laugh and made him feel alive. And about high school, and even before, when Calum saw Luke in a way no one else did. When the highlight of his day was fucking around with Calum during class, or waving a test with a perfect grade in his face.
About the spark Calum’s mom talked about. It’s always been there, and it obviously never went away. If anything, it came back stronger than ever when they reunited.
If he’s honest with Michael, he’s going to sound insane, and he’s going to be vulnerable, and he’s going to admit he wants something that’s unrealistic for him to achieve. None of that sounds appealing at all.
Michael’s expectant eyes bore into him, so Luke clears his throat and makes an effort. “He was kind of loud.”
“Yes!” Michael slaps his hands against the table, shaking it so much Luke has to catch his glass between his hands so it doesn’t topple over. “That’s what I’m talking about. What else?”
Smiling, Luke bobs his head thoughtfully, drawing it out a bit now that he’s got Michael on the hook. “Amazing body. He has tattoos now, too.”
“Mmhmm,” Michael encourages, eyes ravenous for more information. “What else? What was he into?” Luke opens his mouth to answer, but Michael cuts him off. “Wait, let me guess.” He studies Luke thoughtfully, then, slowly, “Nothing too crazy. He was sweet about it, just wanted to make sure you both had a good time. And maybe he gave you a grade afterwards. Or,” he continues with a gleeful gasp, “Did he want you to grade him? Give him instructions, then constructive criticism along with a gold star?”
Luke rolls his eyes. “No gold stars or grades.” Michael tilts his head, eyes narrowed skeptically. “There may have been a pass-fail situation,” Luke concedes, and Michael dissolves into laughter, falling back in his chair.
“I fuckin’ knew it,” Michael says, still a little squeaky with laughter. “What about the rest?”
“Pretty much accurate,” Luke says with a small shrug. “He wanted to make me feel good, wanted to see me and hear me while I fucked him, and I guess he was pretty into my ass, but who isn’t.”
Michael hums in agreement, lips quirking. “Interesting. Very interesting.” Is it, though? It’s kind of the opposite of interesting if Michael’s looking for some juicy gossip. “You gonna see him again?” Michael asks, reaching for the last remaining beignet in their appetizer basket.
“Nah,” Luke replies, waving Michael off and reaching across the table silently requesting half the beignet. “It was just a hook-up.”
“He doesn’t live that far away.”
“Far enough. It’s a plane ride, Mike.”
“You could still see him again if you wanted.” Michael rips the beignet in half and holds it above Luke’s waiting palm. “And do long distance in between.”
“No point. It’s not like we’re gonna be a thing. It was just sex.”
“Damn, that would really be something, though, wouldn’t it? Reuniting with the one that got away and falling in love,” Michael taunts with a syrupy sweet smile and a voice to match, dropping the doughnut into Luke’s hand.
“He’s not the one that got away.” That, Luke believes. He may be attracted to Calum in a multitude of ways, but Calum’s not it for him. He’s just a guy who happens to be appealing to Luke.
“He kind of is, though,” Michael argues, raising an eyebrow. “I hear you. It’s not a thing. I just think there was potential there, you know? A lot of it.”
“Maybe,” Luke says, mind quietly screaming definitely, “But that was a long time ago.” He shoves the beignet in his mouth before he feels compelled to say more. The more he says to Michael, the more likely he is to talk himself out of being reasonable about this.
✓＋
A few months later, Luke’s mostly moved past the Calum thing. Does he still think about it from time to time? Yes, definitely. But he’s not emotionally invested in it anymore. A nice memory to revisit when he’s getting himself off, and maybe occasionally a random thought about something Calum said or did that night flits through his mind, but that’s all it is. A memory, a thought.
Until, on Luke’s birthday, he gets a call from an unknown number. He almost doesn’t answer it, assuming it’s a telemarketer or a political campaign, but the number is his home area code. It’s very likely his brother, who basically changes his phone number as often as there’s a full moon, calling to wish him happy birthday.
“Hello?”
“Oh my god.” Some breathless giggles. “I didn’t expect you to answer.” The voice is familiar, but it’s definitely not Luke’s brother. “Happy fuckin’ birthday!”
“Thank you,” Luke says, panicking a little now, because if this person knows it’s his birthday, he should definitely know who it is. Who the fuck is it?
More giggles. “I got your number from Lucie. Like, a long time ago. Been thinking about calling you for a long time, but now it’s your birthday and I’m drunk, so, you know. Perfect storm.”
“Calum?”
“Right, yes, sorry. This is Calum. Calum from high school and also Calum the guy you fucked at Lucie’s wedding.”
“The only Calum I know,” Luke says, smiling into the phone.
“How has your birthday been?”
“Well,” Luke says, settling back against his couch cushions. “It’s Thursday, so I worked. And now I’m at home, about to have an individual slice of cake from the grocery store.”
“Boo,” Calum growls loudly. “What about a party? Real cake?”
“This weekend,” Luke says. “There will be a party this weekend. With real cake. I just wanted to have some on my actual birthday too.”
“Fuck yeah,” Calum says, breath heavy against the speaker of the phone. “You deserve it. Wish I could be there. For the party.”
“Me too,” Luke says, shaking his head rapidly because what the fuck, mouth? “You’re totally invited, if you wanted to, you know, drop everything and hop on a flight.” It’s ridiculous enough that it feels safe to joke about it, even if it’s not even really a joke at all.
Calum chuckles. “Thanks. I might actually consider it if I didn’t have a massive test on Monday that I am, uhhh…not prepared for at all. So, you know.”
“Still doing that law school thing, then, huh?” Luke teases gently.
“Un-fucking-fortunately,” Calum mumbles, slurring a little on the the fs. “Should’ve been an architect or something instead.”
“I’m not sure that’s much easier,” Luke says kindly. “Just as much school. More math.”
“But I’ve always been better than you at math.”
“Just because I didn’t take calculus doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have crushed it if I had.”
“Maybe I’m bitter because I missed you in class,” Calum replies easily.
Luke smiles, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers. “Well, you’ve made it this far. Might as well commit to the lawyer thing. Although being an architect would be objectively hotter.”
“What?” Calum sputters. “How do you figure?”
“Lawyers wear suits and shit. Stand in a room, talk, memorize stuff. Architects do it all. The math, yeah, but they’re also creative and they have to do site visits where they wear steel-toed boots and get kind of dusty. Hotter.”
“Speaking of hot,” Calum says casually, “And I’m only telling you this because I’m drunk. Normally I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction. But when we hooked up? That was the best sex I’ve ever had. You get an A plus.”
“Wow.” It’s embarrassing how much the letter grade is doing it for Luke. Why is he like this? But Calum knows he’s like this, which is exactly why he said it. He could’ve stopped with the compliment, but he didn’t. “You really know how to make a guy feel special.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Calum says. “I just thought you should know your hard work is really paying off in your performance.”
“Thank you.” There’s a tingle of arousal in Luke’s stomach and he’s not sure how much of it is from Calum’s words and how much of it is from the way those words are making Luke remember that night, and all the ways Calum made him feel incredible. “I’d give you an A plus too.”
“Don’t feel obligated to say it just because I did.”
“I’m not!” Luke insists. “It’s true. Top of the class! I think about it a lot.”
Calum bursts into laughter, breathless when he says, “I love that we can have conversations like this. I don’t think any of my other sexual partners would appreciate the grading system.”
“I know,” Luke agrees, snorting. “Michael joked about us giving each other grades when I told him we hooked up, and now here we are proving him right.”
“You told Michael about us?” If Luke’s not mistaken, Calum sounds thrilled about it. “Wait, did you just say you think about it a lot?” His voice is all high pitched and breathy and really fucking cute.
“What, you don’t?” Luke challenges.
“Oh god, no, I think about it all the fucking time.”
This is a very strange situation. In Luke’s world, a one-time hookup is either someone you never see again, or someone you know, and you both mutually understand you’re just supposed to pretend it never happened. It’s not someone you know and like as a human and talk to three months later about how much you enjoyed the hookup.
“Anyway, I just wanted to call and tell you happy birthday.” A sudden subject change. Maybe Calum also just realized how strange this is, and isn’t quite drunk enough not to care.
“Thanks,” Luke replies, sadness setting in as the call comes to its inevitable conclusion. “I’m glad you called.”
Neither of them suggest they should do it again. Neither of them say talk to you later. They just say goodbye.
✓＋
On Luke’s next birthday, he thinks about the call from Calum. They haven’t spoken since, but there’s still a tiny spark of hope inside Luke. That maybe, Calum’s thinking of him too, and maybe he’ll call.
Could he reach out to Calum? Probably. But what’s the point?
✓＋
Another year, another birthday.
Luke still can’t help but think about Calum on his birthday, but he doesn’t bother to hope he’ll hear from him. It’s okay, really. He’s not disappointed about it.
He broke up with his boyfriend a few weeks ago. They’d been together for about six months, and it was fine. A nice guy. But Luke just can’t shake the feeling—when he’s with someone else, it’s so hard not to compare. Not to think, this isn’t like it is with Calum.
Because with Calum, there was natural chemistry. A constant little thrill any time they were together. Even after they’d known each other for years, Calum could still get Luke’s blood pumping with just a glance.
With his last boyfriend, that feeling went away after a few months. How is Luke supposed to be okay settling for a perfectly nice guy who never gives him butterflies, a guy who he never has the urge to push up against the wall and fuck his brains out, a guy who doesn’t make him want to be better?
How can he be okay with that when he knows it’s possible to have it all?
✓＋
This year, there’s no time to waste thinking about what might have been with Calum. Luke has a to-do list he’s determined to check off before the weekend. Outstanding tasks will not put a damper on his birthday weekend. Unfortunately, his determination happens to put him at the vet to pick up Petunia’s hot spot antibiotics at what is apparently animal rush hour.
The girl at the front desk informs him he will need to wait for a veterinarian to sign off on the refill, so he sits down to wait. As far as waiting rooms go, the vet has a pretty good one. At least Luke gets to see cute animals while he waits. He’s trying to tempt a wiry-haired brown mutt to wander closer to him so he can pet them when he feels something brushing against his leg.
“Hey buddy!” He greets his little visitor, a very small, very fluffy dog, mostly white with patches of black and brown around its eyes. “Nice to meet you.”
The dog snuffles and Luke smiles as he scratches its head, hitting a spot that makes the dog press its head tightly against Luke’s hand. There’s a leash hooked to the dog’s collar, but the leash-owner is around the corner, speaking to the receptionist, so Luke doesn’t bother to restrain himself, grinning and massaging his fingers against the dog’s neck. This dog is so goddamn cute and fluffy, and it wants Luke’s attention, what else is he supposed to do?
“Duke what are you—Luke?”
Luke snaps his head up and there in front of him, in baggy jeans and a seasonally-inappropriate hoodie, is Calum, holding the leash attached to the cute dog in his hand. “Hi?”
Calum’s face lights up. “Hi. Figures that Duke actually likes you. He’s got good taste.”
“Duke? This little guy?” Luke glances down at Duke again, petting him gently.
“Yeah,” Calum says, sitting down in the chair next to Luke’s. “He’s not usually a big fan of strangers. I was afraid he escaped around the corner to terrorize a cat.”
“Nope, just hanging with me,” Luke says, mind racing as he flicks his eyes back to Calum. What is he doing here? In Luke’s city, at Luke’s vet? Clearly he’s here doing vet business, but how? “Wasn’t really expecting to see you here.”
“No, I don’t usually expect to see you when I take Duke to the vet either,” Calum says with an annoyingly endearing smirk. Luke gives him an unimpressed glare and he laughs, reeling in Duke’s leash so he can’t sneak away again. “I just moved here for work. Like a few weeks ago.”
“Oh, wow.” Not that Luke’s entitled to it since they haven’t spoken in years, but he’s a little hurt he didn’t get some kind of heads up. Even just a text to say Are you still in LA? It’s a stupid thing to be bothered by, though. If he were Calum, he probably wouldn’t have said anything either. “So you’re done with law school? And now you’re lawyering? Here?”
Calum nods, eyes soft while he looks Luke over curiously. “You can officially call me Calum Hood, esquire.”
Arching an eyebrow, Luke says flatly, “I won’t be doing that.”
“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” Calum says with a laugh. “But yeah. Moved a few weeks ago, started at the new firm last week, officially failing at both unpacking and learning how to use the printer in the office.”
“It’s good to know you aren’t amazing at absolutely everything,” Luke teases, wishing he had, like, ten seconds to figure out how he feels about Calum being here. “Really humanizes you.”
“Speaking of humanity, is it a privacy violation if I ask you what the fuck you, a human, are doing at the vet without an animal?”
“Maybe I come here when I’m bored just to see some cute dogs.”
“Do you?”
“No. I’m picking up antibiotics for my dog.”
Calum grins. “I honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if you were just here to see dogs.”
“Unfortunately I don’t really have extra time to spend on casual dog-viewing today.”
“Busy doing…whatever the fuck your job is?”
“Busy trying to get through my to-do list before the weekend so I can enjoy my birthday. And I’m an archaeologist.”
Calum stares at him open-mouthed. “You are not.”
“I am,” Luke replies. “It sounds cooler than it is. Oh, hey! You should come to my birthday party this weekend! I mean, if you can. If you want to.”
“Hold on,” Calum says, twirling his finger to roll the conversation back. “You’re an archaeologist? How did I not know this?”
“Never came up?”
“Were you an archaeologist when we—” Calum glances around the waiting area surreptitiously “—you know.”
“Yes.”
Calum’s eyes are absolutely gleaming. “For real? I fucked Indiana Jones?” He’s so thrilled about it he forgets to lower his voice, and a woman across the waiting room with frizzy grey curls to match the Schnauzer at her feet glances at them curiously.
She catches Luke’s eye and smiles at him with a raised eyebrow, so he smiles back while telling Calum, “I’m no Indiana Jones. I spend most of my time inside, and khaki washes me out.”
“I should’ve guessed,” Calum says, shaking his head, still apparently delighted despite Luke’s lack of khaki. “You’ve always been a history nerd. God, that’s so hot. What do you do?”
Luke kind of wants to argue with being classified as a history nerd, but it seems silly to even bother when he has to answer, “I work at the Natural History Museum.”
“Oh my god,” Calum says again, shaking his head. Why this is affecting him so much, Luke has no clue, but he does appreciate it deeply. It’s probably something about their shared appreciation of learning in general. If Calum found honor roll student Luke appealing, it makes sense he’d find museum archaeologist Luke appealing. “That’s rad. That’s even better, maybe. I fucked Professor Indiana Jones! Do you have glasses?”
Luke sighs, fighting back a smile. “I only wear them sometimes.”
Calum punches a victorious fist in the air. “Fuck, dude, I can’t believe we haven’t covered this.”
“We were kind of preoccupied last time we saw each other.” Luke doesn’t really know if they’re supposed to talk about the hook-up, but Calum already brought it up, so he figures it’s fair game.
Smirking, Calum gently tugs on Duke’s tail to get his attention, then scratches him behind the ears when he smushes his head against Calum’s leg. “True. And it’s probably good it didn’t come up last time I talked to you. I was drunk enough I probably would’ve tried to escalate that into some roleplay phone sex.”
The woman with the schnauzer stifles a laugh and Luke tries very hard not to look at her. “I’m a little sad you didn’t.”
“And speaking of the last time I talked to you…did I hear you right? Did I score a birthday party invite?”
“Petunia Hemmings?”
“Shit, that’s me,” Luke says, jumping out of his chair. “But yeah. Tomorrow night. Nothing crazy, I’m just having some people over.”
“I can make up for missing it last time,” Calum says with a satisfied smile, standing up and straightening his hoodie. “Text me? I’ll give you my number.”
“Is it the same? As when you called me?”
“Yeah. I haven’t gone full LA yet.”
“Then I’ve already got it,” Luke says, patting his phone in his pocket before he offers Calum a wave. “I’ll text you.”
Then he hightails around the corner before Calum can get too smug about the fact Luke has had his number saved for three years after one single phone call.
✓＋
Michael is staring. Staring, with this creepy little smile on his face. It’s unsettling, like he’s actively thinking you guys boned! the entire time he’s talking to Luke and Calum.
It’s hard for Luke to blame him, though, because it’s exactly the reaction he’d expect if this had happened in high school. It’s not high school, though, and Calum has registered Michael’s stare, occasionally interrupting himself to stifle an uncomfortable laugh every time he looks at Michael.
Luke can’t take it anymore. “Michael, will you please stop looking at us like you’re imagining us fucking?”
There’s a moment of shocked silence, then Calum laughs loudly, hand covering his mouth. Michael turns bright pink, which serves him right. “C’mon. You can’t just tell me you guys hooked up and expect me not to, you know. Think about it.’
“Can we not?” Luke squeaks shrilly while Calum’s laughter continues, escalating in intensity if not volume, breathless gasps that Luke wants to mix up in his glass of tequila to add some fizz.
Michael shrugs helplessly. “You know what I mean. I’m not, like, fantasizing or something, you sick fuck. It’s just…funny.”
“Funny?” Calum cuts in, delightfully offended.
“Not funny funny,” Michael backtracks, now falling into his high-pitched panic voice. “Not like haha it’s so funny to imagine you idiots fucking. Funny like life is funny.”
“Can you expand on that?” Calum prompts, surprisingly calm now that he’s composed himself after his fit of laughter, almost intimidating with how he’s staring down Michael, challenging him to respond.
Strangely, it makes Luke feel almost…jealous. Calum’s not meant to be issuing good-natured challenges to people who aren’t Luke. That’s their thing. Fuck. Now Luke’s thinking about Calum writhing underneath him, and he’s just tipsy enough that it’s not going to take much to make him desperately horny. He focuses his gaze on Michael, blinking rapidly to try to clear the mental image of Calum’s incredible body, skin just a little shiny with sweat, the tattoos along his collarbones, that look on his face like—
Shit. This isn’t helping.
“...so obsessed with each other in high school,” Michael is saying, and Luke tries hard to tune into it. “And then you finally hooked up a few years later. And now a few years after that, you’re here? And you happen to bump into Luke? I’m just saying. Life is funny.”
Michael gets like this sometimes when he’s drunk. But sentimental is better than creepily staring.
“I’d like to think we were pretty funny haha too,” Calum says, glossing over the sentimental to make a joke, which Luke appreciates endlessly because it’s his birthday and he just wants to have a nice time without thinking too hard. “Because we’re clever guys,” Calum continues, giving Luke a conspiratorial smile.
Luke swallows hard, feeling like he’s been caught, even though Calum can’t possibly know what he was thinking during Michael’s monologue. Would it matter if he did?
While he was getting ready for the party, Luke thought exclusively about Calum. Mostly about how to act around him. About what to expect now that they’re not just together again, but together again with the possibility of seeing each other regularly. Will they hook up again? Is that what Luke wants? Or does he want more? And if he does, is another hook-up a bad idea? A great idea? Does any of this even matter? Maybe Calum just wants to be friends.
That’s not the impression Luke gets later, though, when he’s tangled with Calum on a Twister mat with Calum’s nose a millimeter away from his dick. On purpose. He did it on purpose. He’s been doing it on purpose, every chance he gets—whatever option leads to the most sexually frustrating circumstances for Luke, Calum chooses it.
It’s fine. Luke can play this game too. It’s what they do.
“Right foot green,” Michael slurs, reaching the point of drunkenness where he’s getting lazy about his spinning duties and will probably try to pass them off on another partygoer soon if this game doesn’t end.
It’s easy for Calum to slide his foot over to a green circle, but Luke’s going to have to reach. He does a little spin on his hand so he flips around, ass in Calum’s face while he stretches his foot to tap a green dot. “Glad to see you’ve finally decided to participate,” Calum murmurs, a smirk audible in his voice.
“Hey,” Luke retorts over his shoulder in the general direction of Calum’s head, “I was participating. I just didn’t realize we weren’t just playing Twister.”
“Right hand yellow.”
“‘Scuse me,” Calum mumbles, shoving his hand between Luke’s legs and slapping it onto a yellow dot.
Shaking his head, Luke lifts his hand and twists his body over Calum’s chest to reach for a yellow dot, putting them face to face. Chest to chest. “Dick to dick,” Calum says approvingly, bouncing his eyebrows. “Nice.”
“I’ve been playing the long game,” Luke fibs, knowing Calum will see through him, but it doesn’t matter. It makes Calum smile.
“Uh-huh, sure.” He takes a deep breath, intentionally pushing his pelvis up toward Luke’s. “This is worse anyway. You’re so good you didn’t even need to try.”
Sweet satisfaction glitters in Luke’s blood. He smirks at Calum. “Are you looking down my shirt?”
As Calum nods shamelessly, Michael barks, “Left hand yellow.”
Their eyes meet and they both murmur, “Shit.”
It’s not possible for either one of them, unless— “Do it,” Calum says, lifting his chin. “Crush me.”
“Fuck it, I’m out,” Michael says, tossing the cardboard spinner onto the Twister mat next to Luke’s foot and marching off.
“Do you think we were making him uncomfortable?” Calum asks, snickering under his breath.
“He’s fine,” Luke says. “Just being dramatic. He was literally imagining us fucking earlier.” They’re still twisted together, and Luke’s arm is starting to wobble from the effort of trying to hold himself up in this awkward position. “Were you really going to let me win?”
Calum lifts an arm and, just as Luke registers what he’s doing, his arm is swiped out from underneath him and he flops gracelessly on top of Calum, his weight forcing Calum’s hand to give out. They wind up in a heap, Luke’s body at a slight angle on top of Calum’s, both of them laughing breathlessly.
Luke’s head is turned, cheek pressed to a blue dot, so he can’t see Calum’s face when he says, “It’s a lot like before. If you win, I win too. If I win, you’d just wind up with a dislocated elbow.”
Luke twists his neck so they’re face-to-face, the scent of the soft plastic of the Twister mat permeating the small piece of air between them. “A sacrifice for the greater good.”
Calum’s hands press gently against Luke’s lower back. “Being underneath you is hardly a sacrifice.”
He’s not joking at all. His eyes are dark and his tone is loaded and he’s looking at Luke intensely. It would be so easy for Luke to say, “You wanna take this off the Twister mat?” and lead Calum to his bedroom.
But it’s actually Calum who breaks the tension, eyes going soft as he sighs deeply. “Did I see an egg chair out on your back patio?”
“You wanna go outside?”
Calum nods, and Luke rolls off of him, crouching down to grab him by the hands and pull. “Are you coming too?”
“If you want me to,” Luke says, thinking how funny it is how easily he can regress back to high school Luke under the right circumstances. With anyone else, he’d just say yes. But with Calum, there’s still a teenager inside him that aches for reassurance.
“Isn’t the whole point of an egg chair that there’s room for two?”
“No, the point is it’s a fucking egg chair and it’s cool as shit.” Luke keeps ahold of one of Calum’s hands as he leads them through the house, weaving through little clusters of people, friends Luke should probably be taking the time to chat with and thank for coming to celebrate his birthday, but he doesn’t really feel like talking to anyone who’s not Calum.
It’s an unusually clear night, not too much haze obscuring the stars. The LA light pollution still gives them a blurry quality, though, like there’s frosted glass between Luke’s patio and the sky. Luke actually likes that a lot—it’s different from back home, where their small town lights didn’t do anything to buffer the intimidating vastness of the night sky. It feels cozy in a strange way. Safer. Maybe the only thing about LA that feels safer.
“It’s kinda strange how it never really feels like night here,” Calum says, following Luke’s gaze up at the sky. “There’s always enough light that it feels like people are awake and doing things.”
“It is strange,” Luke agrees, catching his hand on the top of the egg chair to swing himself inside and sit down. “I think it’s kind of nice though. Comforting.”
“Ironic,” Calum murmurs with a small smile, carefully studying Luke’s face as he comes closer, searching for an invitation. Luke offers it in the form of scooting as far to the side of the chair as he can, and Calum’s smile gets wider.
It’s cute, reminding Luke of the way he did something similar when they hooked up—already knowing Luke wanted him, but still not quite believing it without additional confirmation.
When Calum sits down, the first thing he does is put his hand on Luke’s thigh. That’s what Luke’s looking at—Calum’s hand, large and graceful, spanning the grey fabric of Luke’s pants—when Calum says, very calmly, “I don’t think we should hook up. Not that I don’t want to. I really fucking want to, so bad I will probably go insane if we don’t, but, like…I live here now.”
It’s not entirely out of the blue given their history and the events of the evening so far, but it’s uncomfortable, leaving a knot in Luke’s throat. Because it’s not like they were sharing a particularly charged moment. Calum just announced it, like he needed to get it out of the way. Like it’s something he’s been thinking about. And it’s just really hard for it not to feel like a rejection, even with all the qualifiers. Even though Luke doesn’t even know if a hook-up is what he wanted.
He doesn’t really know what to do with any of it. He was already confused about what he wants to happen tonight, and beyond, with Calum, so in some ways it’s nice for Calum to just say it. No hooking up. But it’s also not doing anything to help Luke’s confusion, because if Calum doesn’t want to hook up, but also he really does, but also he lives here now…what?
So Luke just says, “Okay.” Calum’s hand is still on his thigh. “Uh. I’m getting some mixed messages here.”
“I literally said I want to. I just don’t think we should.”
“Okay.” What does he expect Luke to say? To ask why? Because Luke’s not sure he wants the answer to that. If Calum’s about to tell him he thinks they should only be friends, or he thinks Luke’s a good fuck but doesn’t actually want to hang out with him anymore, Luke would really just rather not hear it. Better to live in blissful ignorance.
“You really are just like this, huh?” Calum asks softly, and Luke can feel his eyes on him. “I thought maybe you’d changed since high school, but you really haven’t.” He chuckles, hand squeezing more tightly against Luke’s thigh. “You know people want to fuck you now, but you’re still oblivious about everything else.”
Luke shrugs. He’s caught somewhere between hopelessness and violent frustration, all of it amplified by the tequila and Calum’s touch. “I guess? Dunno how else to be.”
“I’m trying to say I want to get to know you. Like…again. I want to get to know you again.”
Luke’s stomach twists and his skin flushes warm despite the cool evening breeze. “Without hooking up?”
Calum purses his lips thoughtfully, a little hesitant. “Without hooking up yet. Without just hooking up. Actually, I don’t think hooking up is even the right vocabulary for this.”
“Okay,” Luke says, feeling himself start to smile. It’s hard not to when Calum is being cute and a little flustered and using the word vocabulary. “So what’s on the vocab list instead?”
“I’m not actually sure,” Calum says, lips twisting up on one side, one eyebrow raising. “But hooking up kind of implies just sex. And I don’t want to just get to know you, and also just have sex along with getting to know you.”
“Then what the hell do you want?” Luke asks, mystified, but fully smiling now, because it’s oddly reassuring that Calum seems just as lost on the subject as Luke is. And whatever it is he wants, it seems to involve them spending time together, which is enough to keep Luke hopeful.
“I want—” Calum sighs deeply, melting back into the egg chair, his hand skating further up Luke’s thigh as he does, not physically pulling Luke back with him, but Luke goes anyway, falling against the cushion. “I want to get to know you, and then if that goes as well as I think it will, I want to…I don’t know, do all the shit I never had the balls to do in high school. Take you out for ice cream. Make out with you at the movies. Just sit with you while we work on different projects. And then, somewhere in there, we have sex. But, like, all kinds. Not just hot hook-up type sex.”
Luke’s smile shifts to a lopsided smirk. “Is this like a four year graduation plan or—”
“This is exactly the thing, though,” Calum cuts in, words tumbling quickly out of his mouth. “The basis of our—whatever this is. The way we talk to each other and the way we know each other. It’s all based on how we knew each other in high school. And that’s fine. But I want to know you now too.” He sounds urgent about it but also so, so sweet, which is different from how Luke knew him in high school. Back then, most of his sweetness and vulnerability was carefully concealed by sarcasm and banter.
Luke may not totally know what he wants, but he does know he wants to know Calum. And he knows all the things Calum is saying make him feel warm and electric.
“Okay,” he says simply. “Then let’s do that.”
Calum turns his head to look up at Luke. “Yeah? You want to?” It’s strange, seeing him like this. Luke got a glimpse of the honesty and vulnerability when they hooked up, but even then, Calum was confident and sure. Now, he’s a little unsettled. Hopeful and searching for reassurance.
It really makes Luke think, because it’s not so different from how he feels around Calum.
So alike, but just different enough for that spark.
✓＋
It’s only about a twenty minute drive to Calum’s apartment, which is pretty remarkable for LA. Somehow out of all the places he could’ve wound up, Calum landed on the edge of Luke’s neighborhood.
“Oh my god, you actually showed up!” The door opens to reveal Calum in a very small tank top and very large shorts hanging low on his hips. He’s a little sweaty, too, color in his cheeks like he’s been doing some kind of heavy manual labor or vigorous exercise.
Luke swallows down a hungry noise. “Did you think I wouldn’t? I said I’d help you unpack.”
“Yeah, but, like—” Calum moves out of the doorway, gesturing for Luke to come in, “—I figured it was one of those just saying it to be nice things. Like offering to do it because you’re sweet but really, really hoping I wouldn’t take you up on it.”
“Honestly? I don’t mind this kind of thing. Plus, it gives me an excuse to hang out with you.”
The reason for Calum’s sweat and blush becomes apparent as soon as Luke steps into the apartment, greeted by a giant cardboard IKEA box and a half-assembled entertainment center. There are smaller moving boxes lining the wall, Duke curled up next to them in a dog bed. The only complete furniture in the room is a worn out leather sofa that’s seen better days, partially hidden behind the IKEA box. Luke recognizes it immediately. “Is that—”
“—from Lucie’s basement, yeah,” Calum says brightly. “She told me you’d probably remember it.”
“There were a lot of nights watching movies and playing videogames on that sofa in high school.” Most weekends, actually. If there wasn’t anything else going on, Luke and his friends would just hang out at Lucie’s, because her parents left them alone in the finished basement, where they had everything they needed—a TV, a bathroom, a stocked refrigerator, and a ping pong table.
Sliding the IKEA box out of the way, Calum sits down, patting the sofa next to him. “Sometimes I really wish we’d hung out more in high school. It’s like we just barely missed each other all the time. A lot of mutual friends, but never the right ones at the right times.”
Luke carefully steps over a pile of screws and brackets on the floor and falls into the empty space next to Calum on the sofa. “Do you think it would’ve been different? If we’d spent more time together outside of school?”
Now that Luke’s settled, Calum looks at him. Closely. His eyes are soft, but he’s so focused and thorough, really, really looking. “I dunno,” he says, looking at Luke’s lips. “I’d like to think maybe we’d have gotten a little more comfortable,” he continues, looking at Luke’s chest. “Maybe I even would’ve managed to ask you out,” he adds, looking at Luke’s hands. “Maybe we would’ve kissed in Lucie’s basement,” he finishes, looking in Luke’s eyes.
“But then if we’d done all that, maybe we wouldn’t be doing this.”
Calum nods emphatically, nudging Luke’s knee with his. “And maybe we wouldn't have hooked up at Lucie’s wedding, and there’s not much I’d give that up for.”
Luke laughs, nodding along. “Yeah, same.” Surveying the mess of furniture parts on the floor and the piles of boxes along the wall, Luke asks, “So what can I do to help?”
“You can talk to me while I work.” Calum grins, sliding off the sofa and onto the floor, reaching for the instruction booklet for his entertainment center. “Keep me entertained so I can endure it.”
“Oh my god, seriously? I can help,” Luke says, slipping down onto the floor next to Calum. “At least let me hand you screws or something.”
Calum looks up from the instructions, tilting his head to the side as he studies Luke. Remembering exactly how stubborn he can be. “Yeah, okay,” he says eventually, scooping a pile of screws off the floor and holding them out to Luke to drop in his hand. “Hold these.”
“Rad,” Luke says enthusiastically, capping his hand so the screws are safely cradled and placing it just next to Calum’s thigh where they’ll be easily accessible. “I’m so good at holding things.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re good at a lot of things,” Calum snorts, pinching a screw out of the pile in Luke’s hand and fitting it into place on the edge of a shelf. “I guess that hasn’t changed.”
“What if nothing really has?” Luke asks, hearing the hopefulness in his voice even though he doesn’t really mean for it to escape. “What if we’re not actually that different than we were in high school and we basically still know each other just as well as we always did?”
Calum hums thoughtfully, flicking his eyes over to Luke while he twirls the screw into place. “You that eager to fuck me again? Is that what this is?”
“No,” Luke squawks, widening his eyes at Calum in fond irritation. “I mean, yeah, I’d love to fuck you again, but that’s not what I’m saying.”
Calum grins at his screw. “What are you saying then?”
“I don’t know,” Luke replies, which is true. He doesn’t know what difference it would make, other than maybe getting to the romance and the kissing and the fucking faster if they don’t have to worry about getting to know each other. But it’s not just impatience. It’s fear. “Maybe I just want to skip past the part where you realize you don’t actually like me now.”
Calum inhales sharply, and Luke rushes to continue, “I just mean I—I’m a little worried that reality isn’t going to match with expectations. For both of us, even. When you were talking about us like it would be inevitable you’d want to take me out for ice cream and make out with me at the movies, that all sounds great. I would love that. But I’m afraid that it might not happen if this getting to know each other now thing goes to shit.”
Calum sighs heavily, but it sounds like relief more than frustration. “Fuckin’ hell, Luke, that’s the whole point though.” He reaches into Luke’s hand again, extracting another screw from the pile, fingers lingering against Luke’s palm. “I need you to understand that I like you now as much as I did then. More, maybe. And that I’m not just doing this because of some leftover high school crush.”
“Oh.”
Actually. That’s very good. Very insightful. Because that’s definitely something that would have tripped Luke up, and Calum anticipated that. Fuck. Wow. It gives Luke that strange discombobulated feeling that comes along with being perceived accurately—the warmth and satisfaction of being seen and understood; the sharp terror of being seen and understood.
Unimpressed, Calum murmurs, “Oh? That’s all you’ve got?” But he smiles softly while he tightens the next screw into the shelf.
“Well, I don’t wanna inflate your ego too much here,” Luke says, carefully casual, “But that might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said—ever done for me.” Because it’s not just the words. It’s the patience required to follow through on them. The faith that it will be worth it. Luke actually can’t think too hard about it while he’s sitting next to Calum or he’s going to completely lose his capacity to be a normal person.
“I’m a pretty nice guy, actually,” Calum says playfully, shooting Luke a tiny smile. “I know you probably didn’t think so in high school, but I am.”
“I knew you were nice,” Luke says forcefully. That was never a question. They may have been competitive and incapable of holding a conversation that didn’t contain some amount of verbal sparring, but Luke knew Calum was nice. Underneath it all, his eyes were always smiling. “I’ve always thought that you’re nice.”
Calum seems a little surprised by Luke’s sincerity, eyes going soft when he nods and says quietly, with a dash of mischief, “Maybe nicer to you inside my head than I was to your face.”
Luke is riveted as he watches Calum work, appreciating his tenacity when he hits a particularly confusing or difficult step in the process, and how it makes him scowl in determination. He’s nice to look at, too, muscles rippling as he hammers and drills and cajoles, hands taking on all sorts of interesting tasks, all of which they excel at completing. His hair dips into his eyes a lot, and Luke takes it upon himself to help sweep it out of the way when Calum’s hands are otherwise occupied.
The first time, Calum cuts his eyes over to Luke and grumbles, “What’re you doing?”
“Helping,” Luke replies innocently, noting with some satisfaction the way Calum shudders a little at his touch.
“Creating a safety risk, more like,” Calum replies, not sounding at all unhappy about it. In fact, he sounds pretty pleased.
✓＋
On Friday night, Luke’s just getting home from seeing a movie with Michael when he gets a call from Calum. Seeing Calum’s name on the caller ID makes him smile, because he’d been kind of sad he didn’t have any plans to see Calum this weekend. Nothing unbearable, just a little wistful yearning while also maintaining healthy adult boundaries and his dignity.
It’s just nice to know that Calum might be dealing with the same thing.
“Hey, Cal!” No point in trying to hide how excited he is. Calum will hear the smile in his voice no matter what.
“Luke! Can’t believe I’m doing this again, but okay, maybe I can. Because I am. Doing it.”
“Are you drunk?” There’s no need to ask, Calum’s obviously drunk, words slurring and a constant laugh bubbling under his voice. Luke’s amused by it—he’s never been the go-to target for someone’s drunk dials before, and it’s kinda fun.
“Mmmyup,” Calum confirms. “Went out for drinks with my coworkers after work. They were boring, so I drank too much, and now I’m home and I’m thinking about you. So I called you.”
Luke shuffles around his bedroom, doing his best to maneuver out of his clothes with one hand. “You’re thinking about me?”
“I don’t think the way I think about you is normal.”
Luke pauses with his hand hovering over his T-shirt drawer. “What does that mean?” He’s laughing as he says it, because Calum doesn’t seem too broken up about it, but it certainly piques Luke’s interest.
“Fuckin’...doin’ it all the time,” Calum murmurs, voice fading like he’s distracted, but then he comes back strong. “Like, last night I was at the grocery store? And I was just pushing my cart down the candy aisle thinking about what you might be doing, and about how cute your laugh is and how you have the best smile I’ve ever seen, and how I love your voice so much? Like when you get a little feisty and sassy with me? But also when it’s really soft because that feels special.”
Luke’s frozen, hand shaking in the air, adrenaline suddenly pumping through him and turning his skin hot. It’s not like he didn’t know Calum liked him. But hearing all this, completely unfiltered, is doing a number on his heart. Literally. It’s hammering in his chest so fast, his breathing speeding up to match.
Fully unaware of all the ways Luke’s body is putting him through the wringer because of his words, Calum just keeps talking. “And how fuckin’ smart you are. You’re, like, the only person that’s ever made me feel intimidated about that kind of thing. But then I’m also, like, thinking about you every night when I jerk off. Every fuckin’ night it’s the same thing, the wedding, over and over… and it never stops being so fuckin’ hot because it’s you. And I know I’m drunk right now, but I’m just, like, why am I doing this to myself? When you’re here and I’m here and we could just fuckin’...”
Luke really wants Calum to finish that sentence, but instead he trails off, laughing abruptly, then saying, “Walked right past the peanut butter cups, Luke. That’s what I was there for, and I walked right past ‘em. Got home and was like where the fuck are my peanut butter cups?”
“You were at the grocery store just for peanut butter cups?”
Calum fucking loses it, wheeze-laughing heavily into the phone so loudly that Luke uses it as an opportunity to set down his phone and pull on a T-shirt. When he picks it back up, Calum is still laughing, quiet squeaks as he slowly composes himself. “I really like peanut butter cups! And that’s not the fuckin’ point, oh my god. This is—god, this is exactly the thing. I’m just obsessed with everything about you. Why is that the fuckin’ cutest and best thing anyone’s ever said?” He lowers his voice in an attempt to mimic Luke. “You were at the grocery store just for peanut butter cups? After I just told you I think about you every time I come. Fuckin’ hell.”
“That is not what you said,” Luke interjects sharply. “You said every time you jerk off. Those are different things.” He flops onto his bed, scratching Petunia behind the ears to apologize for jolting her out of her nap.
“Well,” Calum says with a lazy laugh. “I guess I need to issue a correction.” Then, a quiet, amused mumble. “Probably why I haven’t been able to keep a boyfriend since I fucked you.”
“Stop,” Luke protests through squeaky laughter. “You’re fucking with me.”
“I’m not,” Calum insists forlornly. “I’m so fuckin’ gone for you, it’s ridiculous. Wanna see you so bad right now.”
Luke considers this while he stretches his legs out in front of him on his bed, arm over his eyes to block out the light. It would be easy to go over to Calum’s, and it’s not very late. There’s absolutely no reason they couldn’t see each other right now. But should they? If Luke goes over there while Calum is in this state, will they do something they regret?
It’s hard to imagine, though. The worst that could happen is they hook up again, and while that’s something they’re trying to avoid for a while, it’s not like it will fuck things up between them. They can go right back to getting to re-know each other afterwards.
It’s Friday night, and Luke wants to see Calum, and he can. “I could come over,” he blurts, before he’s really decided he should say it, but it’s fine. Once it’s out he doesn’t regret it. It feels good actually. Feels right. “If you wanted.”
“Do you want to?” It’s adorable how shocked Calum seems by the idea that Luke might want to see him, voice ticking up to a disbelieving squeak.
“Yeah, I do,” Luke says, already sitting up in bed. “I’ve been sad we didn’t have any plans together this weekend. Just need to put on some real clothes and let Petunia out first.”
“Sick. Yes. Please come over. Don’t worry about clothes though. Bet you look hot already.”
“I’m not wearing pants.”
“That only proves my point,” Calum says brightly, his tone a funny contrast with the slow roll of the words out of his mouth. “You can bring Petunia if you want. In case…in case you wanna stay.”
“I thought—”
“Not like that,” Calum interrupts. “Or—it doesn’t have to be like that. Maybe it could be like that. But it doesn’t have to be. I just meant if you…I don’t know. I just don’t think I’ll want you to leave. Might be nice if you stayed. If you wanted to stay.”
Fuck. It’s not eloquent, but it still twists Luke into knots. Maybe because it’s not eloquent. Because Calum is drunk and a little out of his mind and still somehow everything he says is the right thing. “Calum?” Luke picks up his jeans off the floor and tugs them back on, not bothering to change out of his worn shirt.
“Hmm?”
“I don’t think the way I think about you is normal either.”
It’s quiet for a beat, then Calum says, voice smooth and smug, “Still competitive, then, huh?”
✓＋
By the time Luke makes it to Calum’s apartment, he’s less drunk and more just pleasantly tipsy, welcoming Luke with a sloppy grin and an enthusiastic hug. Instead of hello, Luke gets a whispered “wanna kiss you so bad" in his ear while Calum is pressed against him, which makes him shiver from head to toe. Calum doesn’t even seem to notice Petunia galloping past his feet and disappearing down the hall.
“I’m not stopping you,” Luke flirts back, using his hold on Calum’s waist to subtly urge his hips a little closer.
“Luke…” Calum pulls away, looking up at Luke with this adorably pained expression, distress swirling in his decadent brown eyes. “You’re making it so hard for me to be good.”
Luke lifts an eyebrow in amused curiosity, hands still resting on Calum’s back, itching to do more. “Good?” God, Calum looks incredible like this, still in his work clothes, but with his button down half open, hair a little disheveled, cheeks pink from the alcohol.
Calum’s swaying a little as he speaks, keeping himself steady with hands on Luke’s shoulders, and there’s something sort of unbearably cute about the way he’s looking at Luke with so much softness and so much concern. Concern that Luke is almost positive is unnecessary. “Y’know. To make sure. That you know I like actual you and I’m not just hung up on high school you. Like we talked about.”
“Yeah,” Luke says, nodding with his eyes on Calum’s, a smug but tender smile on his lips. “I dunno, Cal. That seemed pretty clear from what you said on the phone.”
Calum’s eyes go wide, sparkling hopefully through the concern, and Luke stifles a laugh behind his hand. “But what if I just said that because I’m drunk?”
“Does that make it any less true?” Luke asks, gently teasing, tilting his head to lean down and press a kiss against Calum’s cheekbone. Just to take the edge off. To see how it feels. Calum inhales sharply, hand flying to the back of Luke’s head like he wants to hold him in place, for Luke to keep going.
That’s what Luke wants, too. The taste of Calum’s skin under his lips, the way Calum’s body reacted—fuck yes Luke wants more. But he waits, hovering with his face a few inches from Calum’s, falling into the alluring haziness of Calum’s eyes. He can see how much Calum wants him right now. He can see it, and it makes him feel reckless and wonderful and perfect.
Calum opens his mouth, probably intending to form some words, but he just shakes his head at first, confusion flashing on his face, followed quickly by clarity. “No!” he exclaims brightly, open mouth lifting into a smile. “It fuckin’ doesn’t! I wasn’t drunk when I ignored the peanut butter cups because I was thinking about you! Ohmigod, I’m only drunk, like, five percent of the time I think about you!”
“So here’s a suggestion,” Luke says, completely unable to stop smiling at Calum’s wildly endearing monologue. “Let’s hang out. I’ll stay tonight, if you still want me to—” Calum nods so rapidly he throws himself off balance and stumbles slightly against Luke’s chest. “—and then in the morning, when you’re not drunk, we can see how you feel about being good.” He taps his hands against Calum’s ass and raises his eyebrows expectantly.
“Fuckin’ fantastic plan,” Calum agrees enthusiastically. “So fuckin’ smart. You’re so fuckin’ smart.”
“It’s really nice hearing you admit that, I gotta say.”
“You fuckin’ know you’re smart. Dunno why you need me to say it.” Calum rolls his eyes fondly and starts unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m gonna change. Get yourself something to drink or a snack or whatever.” He points to the kitchen, but he doesn’t move, intentionally lingering while he slips his shirt off his shoulders just a few inches away from Luke.
Of course Luke watches. It’s obviously what Calum wants, and he’s not about to pass up the opportunity. He’s plenty obvious about the fact that he’s watching, swallowing hard as Calum’s hand casually scratches over his extremely bare chest. Calum seems to be waiting for some kind of reaction from Luke, a crooked half-smirk on his lips once Luke finally manages to lift his eyes away from all that smooth skin.
“What’re you waiting for?” Luke asks, voice carefully composed with just an edge of sass. “Go change.”
Calum shakes his head, face splitting into an open-mouthed grin before he turns on his heel to head for his bedroom. “Fuck you.”
Luke snickers under his breath on his way to Calum’s kitchen, then breaks into a full-on laughing fit when he hears a yelp, followed by Calum’s voice floating down the hallway. “Jesus FUCK. You scared me, queen. Luke didn’t say you were a fucking monster.” He’s babbling to Petunia, and Luke keeps his ear aimed that direction so he can hear while he picks through Calum’s fridge. “No offense. You’re a beautiful monster. The sweetest girl, huh? Oh my god, you’re the sweetest girl! Did you eat Duke? Where’s Du—Duke! Hey buddy! Yeah, I’d hide under the bed too if I were you.”
If he weren’t afraid he’d be too tempted by Calum’s at least half naked body in such close proximity to a bed, Luke would be skedaddling down the hallway to watch the scene, but he stays strong and focuses on gathering a soda and a bottle of water out of the fridge, then settles on Calum’s couch to wait for him to re-emerge.
There are more interesting sounds coming from Calum’s room—some quiet crashes, like maybe Calum is getting a little aggressive with his dresser drawers. A bed frame squeaking. Water running. A door slamming. An occasional high-pitched comment aimed at Petunia sprinkled between it all. Finally, Calum comes out in sweatpants so thin Luke can see everything underneath them, and a cozy crewneck sweatshirt, Petunia and Duke at his heels.
“Your dog is a fuckin’ beast,” he announces, falling dramatically next to Luke. “I’m in love with her.”
“Get in line,” Luke murmurs, handing Calum the water bottle, which he accepts with a smile so delighted you’d think he’d never seen water before. “I’ve got dibs.”
“What do ya think, Petunia?” She stares up at him from where she’s sitting on the floor, trying to figure out a strategy for jumping onto the already-full couch. “Who’s your favorite?” She blinks her weepy dog eyes feebly.
“And you say I’m the competitive one.” Luke takes pity on Petunia and scoots as close to Calum as he can to give her room to hop onto the couch on his other side. She hesitates, waiting until Luke is completely pasted to Calum’s side before she jumps up, spins in a circle, then flops down with her head on Luke’s thigh. Is he imagining it, or is there a little smirk on her squishy face? Maybe Petunia is actually playing wingman here. He should probably get her a pup cup next time he’s at the coffee shop to show his gratitude.
Calum’s arm slips around Luke’s shoulders, and he falls against Calum, closing the tiny bit of extra space it frees up between them. Suddenly Luke’s lap is filled with a tiny ball of fur, Duke’s little body crawling over him and scratching a paw at Calum’s chest. Calum pats Duke’s head gently. “You jealous, Duke? Yeah, you probably should be. Pops forgot his peanut butter cups at the store because of this guy. Your dog food could be next.”
Maybe it’s misguided, and maybe it’s completely illogical, but if Luke had any doubts at all that he wants Calum—this Calum, as he is right now—they’ve been wiped away in the ten minutes since Luke stepped through his front door. He wonders if Calum will have a moment like that. Where he just knows. Maybe he already has. He thinks Luke needs some kind of reassurance that will only come with time. But right now, all the reassurance Luke needs is Calum’s hand gently tracing shapes over his arm, and the knowledge that Calum cares about him more than peanut butter cups.
✓＋
“I think about you so much.”
It’s about the eighth time Calum has said it, and Luke’s not sure if it’s lingering intoxication or extreme fatigue leading him to fall into the same refrain repeatedly, a little softer and a little lazier every time. It could be some combination of both, or—and this is the possibility Luke suspects is the most likely—neither.
Everything Luke knows about Calum tells him Calum’s just relying on the possibility he’s drunk and exhausted as an excuse to say things he might not otherwise. Eventually, Luke is going to call him on it. But not yet. He’s enjoying it too much.
They’re still on Calum’s couch, backs against opposite sides, legs tangled together in the middle. Too far apart but too close together all at once. It’s the result of an unspoken understanding that they need to have space between them if they don’t want things to escalate, but they also absolutely need to be touching.
Luke doesn’t really know how to respond anymore, but it doesn’t matter, because Calum keeps talking. It’s a quiet, deep voice that somehow feels like it’s just for Luke to hear. “Your eyes are so pretty. They’re so blue, but there are so many different shades in there. Makes them sparkle. Remember in AP English when you sat behind me? One day I turned around to pass a paper back to you and the sun was hitting your face just right and I literally gasped at how pretty your eyes were. I think I even said something.”
“You did say something.” Luke remembers it vividly, and he still thinks about it often, because it was just such an unbearably sweet thing for a teenage boy to say. It meant a lot to him then. “About all the different colors. I remember being caught off guard by how nice and sincere it was.”
“I went home and spiraled over it a little,” Calum says with a little self-deprecating laugh. “Thought I’d shown my cards too much.”
“I went home and spiraled over it a little too,” Luke admits. “Very cliché teenage crush stuff. Embarrassing, actually. Butterflies in my stomach. A note in my journal about how maybe Calum actually likes me, that kind of thing. Still have the journal somewhere, probably.”
Calum smiles, tilting his head sideways against the back of the sofa. “That’s cute.” He runs his hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead, toes nudging against Luke’s leg. “They’re still the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.”
Teenage Luke experienced butterflies in his stomach over Calum commenting on his eyes, but adult Luke currently has a full flock of cranes lifting off in his chest, which doesn’t really seem fair. He should be able to handle this now. But now, he’s mature enough to understand that Calum really means it. He’s not just saying it to fuck with Luke’s mind or to get in Luke’s pants.
Eyes flicking to the ceiling, Luke tries to ignore the warmth prickling his skin. “Thanks Cal.” He looks into Calum’s eyes so Calum can see he really means it.
When their eyes meet, Calum nods. “I thought about you all the time.” At first, Luke thinks it’s another round of the same sentiment. But then, “Like after high school, before the wedding. All that time in between. I thought about you. Even when I’d hook up with someone or date someone. I’d still be thinking in the back of my mind…I wonder how Luke’s doing right now. I wonder if Luke kisses like this. I wonder if Luke would understand that I can’t go out on Friday night because I have to study.”
Luke sucks in a sharp breath. Sure, he’d thought about Calum here and there during that time, and he assumed maybe Calum thought about him too, but all the time? It’s all Luke’s ever wanted. To be so important to someone that he’s always on their mind. Never forgotten or pushed aside just because he’s not there. But he never would have guessed he was that for Calum.
Calum sees the shock on his face and smiles wryly. “I probably shouldn’t admit that. Now you’ll think I’ve just been weirdly hung up on you forever and that’s why I’m doing all this.”
“Well,” Luke says, narrowing his eyes at Calum, fighting a smile. “You did mysteriously wind up moving to my city. Real stalker behavior.”
Calum laughs despairingly. “Shit. You’re right. But maybe…” He cocks his head, staring at Luke assessingly. “Maybe you like that. You claim you’re not a romantic bitch anymore, but you are, aren’t you?”
“You know I am.” Luke sits up, tucking his knees under him.
“You like knowing I’ve been thinking about you, like, forever.” Calum shifts his legs, making room for Luke to crawl between them.
“You know I do.” Luke’s inching closer, closer, couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, but he really, really doesn’t want to stop. And you’re still a romantic bitch too.”
Calum grins, some mix of relief and euphoria flickering in his eyes. “Maybe we do still know each other pretty damn well.”
Luke places his hands on either side of Calum’s hips and presses his face close to Calum’s. He feels like an astronaut staking his claim on some beautiful new planet that he’s always known was out there, waiting for him to discover it. “I know you’ve been playing up how drunk you are so you can say nice things to me.”
“Fuck off, I don’t need to be drunk to say nice things to you.” Calum licks his lips in anticipation.
“Am I wrong?” Luke challenges.
Calum’s grin stretches wider and he shrugs a shoulder, not backing down from Luke’s stare. “No.”
Luke kisses him. It’s not cautious or questioning. He’s been missing Calum’s lips ever since that night after the wedding. It’s just as good as he remembers. It still feels like Calum has been waiting years to kiss him. So much passion yet so much patience, savoring every detail as he carefully wraps his arms around Luke’s shoulders and pulls Luke down on top of him.
Their mouths stay connected, and Luke slips his hands under Calum’s hoodie, actual static electricity crackling between their skin when he does. It makes Calum groan—slight pain, but mostly pleasure—and Luke smiles into the kiss. Yes. This is what he’s been craving.
Each drag of Calum’s tongue inside his mouth sends pulsing tingles to every nerve ending in Luke’s body. Because his body remembers what this is like, it remembers what came next last time this happened, and it wants that. Badly.
And Luke’s going to give in, eventually. Soon. Maybe even tomorrow. But not tonight. Tonight, he reluctantly pulls away before things go too far, but he’s smiling as he does.
“Luke Hemmings,” Calum murmurs, shaking his head while his thumbs graze over the freckles on Luke’s cheeks, “Never expected you’d kiss me first three times in a row before I’d ever work up the nerve to kiss you first.”
Luke smirks back at Calum, leaning his cheek into Calum’s touch, shivering every time Calum’s thumb grazes his skin. “Just another entry in the long list of assignments I’ve finished before you.”
✓＋
On Luke’s next birthday, he doesn’t get a drunk phone call from Calum. But that’s okay. He doesn’t miss it. Because instead, he gets drunk on California Dreams and Calum’s lips.