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Caleb likes to think he thrives under the constant pressure of a packed restaurant during the dinner rush, but he also likes lying to himself. Currently, he's taking a quick break inside the walk-in, letting the cold air empty his head and cool his sweaty skin. He crouches because his back is killing him. He hates that this is the only empty corner of the walk-in because he can smell the bunches of cilantro hanging above his head. He can hear the muffled chaos outside still, pans banging against grilltops, ceramic plates being readied for customers, the head chef calling out orders for each station.
"Where the hell is Caleb?!"
Five years ago, Caleb swore to himself that he was going to get out of this fuck-ass restaurant and become the head chef of his own kitchen, but for now––
Caleb steps out of the walk-in and back into the chaos. The head chef is already barking another order of grilled salmon at him. He pats the back of the other line cook, Gideon, who'd been covering for him, then grabs a filet of salmon to dump onto the waiting pan.
"Thanks, man," Caleb says.
Gideon only nods.
//
Skyhaven Table is a swanky rooftop restaurant nestled in the wealthy financial district of downtown, one that boasts food as good as the penthouse views. The decor is expensive without being too tacky. The lights are dim enough to set the mood and disguise every flaw on the first date. For all the pomp and pretentiousness, Caleb hates it. He hates that he likes looking out over the city atop one of the highest buildings. He hates that he likes looking into lit windows to see what kind of lives are being led parallel to his.
Most of all, Caleb hates that he can see the hospital just four blocks from him, the red helicopter lights blinking on its roof. Zayne doesn’t work there anymore, but if someone asked Caleb if he kept this job just to see the hospital during his breaks, he wouldn’t directly deny it.
“Can you see me?” Caleb had asked on the phone, squinting into the dark. He scanned the lit windows of the hospital, searching for a familiar silhouette.
A chuckle, warm and full in Caleb’s ear, and he grinned. “No.”
“Liar. Where are the binoculars I gave you?” Caleb asked.
“On second thought, I can see your big head just fine.” A laugh colored the edges of Zayne’s voice, and Caleb imagined a smile tugging the corners of Zayne’s lips.
On the top floor, in the middle of a long hallway, Zayne was staring back at Caleb. Or at least he thought it was Zayne, but he’d recognize the set of those shoulders anywhere. The way he slouched a little from the bone-deep exhaustion of too much overtime, how he buried his hands in his pockets to keep them warm. Caleb knew.
“Can you see me waving? Wave back!”
The silhouette waved. Caleb’s grin widened.
Now, Caleb stares at that same hallway. One of the lights is almost out. It’s been flickering like it’s trying to send out a message in morse code. He sets an elbow on the railing, his chin in his open palm. He tries to decipher the code that the light is giving out. It’s gibberish, as expected. He begins to push away from the railing when his phone starts to ring. He answers it because only two people have ever called him during his late night shifts at work, and one of them decided to act like he doesn’t exist anymore.
“I need your help.”
Caleb sighs, leaning against the railing again. No hi, how are you or even half a proper greeting from his sister. Who raised her? Certainly not him.
“What is it this time?” Caleb asks, not even bothering to hide how tired he is.
“Don’t be like that, it's important.”
So for the next ten minutes, Caleb listens to his sister explain how she found out the reservation she made at some fancy restaurant wasn’t for this weekend, it was for next month. This is so typical of her, he can’t help but laugh.
“It’s not funny!” she whines.
Caleb isn’t a cruel man. He’s only a little envious of how happy and stable her life seems. He’s allowed to feel these emotions, according to his therapist.
“I’m sorry, pips, but… It is kinda funny.”
She groans, the sound fading like she’s leaning away from the phone. “Okay, yeah, it kinda is, but there’s no way I can book another reservation. My engagement party is in two days!”
Caleb looks down at the traffic below, the rumbling sound of cars and blaring horns floating up faintly. He stares at the blinking red lights above the hospital. Then, he has an idea.
"Just have it here."
She doesn't respond immediately, like she's considering it, or at least, that's what Caleb hopes. "I can't. It's impossible to get a table there. And for nineteen people? I feel like you're forgetting that part."
"Okay, but isn't your fiancee worth like a million dollars?" Caleb shoots back. It's true. He's seen the luxury goods and expensive cars in the pictures she shows him, and he doesn't doubt that she's worked hard to earn the money she spends, but that fiancee is in another tax bracket entirely.
Again, Caleb is allowed to feel envious.
"I don't want to spend his money trying to fix my mistake…"
Now, it's Caleb's turn to groan. "You told me he basically gave you an unlimited budget to plan your wedding. Is this not part of the wedding? I'll let my boss know and you can make your reservation. Easy."
"You're sure?"
"Yes, pips, I swear it."
And it is as easy as Caleb made it sound. As soon as he mentioned how much money the restaurant would make from this, the head chef personally took it upon himself to clear out the restaurant. The only caveat is that Caleb has to work that night. When his sister finds out, she wants to change her mind, but Caleb convinces her not to because if she really thinks about it, he'll still be there… Just in the kitchen.
"You’re the worst," she says as she stretches out on his couch. She turns on his TV and begins flipping through channels. "The worst brother a girl could ask for."
Caleb shrugs and shoves her legs to the side to make room on his tiny couch. "I could just tell my boss you changed your mind."
She sits up with a frown and hits his shoulder. "No, don't!"
Caleb laughs and snatches the remote from her unguarded hand to switch the channel to a basketball game. She flips him off and slouches back against the cushions.
"I was going to give you a gift as thanks, but I changed my mind, actually."
Caleb turns to her with a raised brow, but she refuses to look at him, her arms crossed stubbornly atop her chest. He decides not to press it.
//
The engagement dinner is, as expected, perfect. Caleb’s sister and her fiancee thank the head chef, who greets them at the entrance and is uncharacteristically polite and mild-mannered in front of them––as if he wasn't just yelling at the line cooks the day before (Caleb briefly wonders how the head chef hasn't lost his voice by now). However, for a majority of the night, his sister continues to glance at the entrance like she’s waiting for someone else. Caleb wants to ask her about it, but he's been so busy back inside the kitchen, he barely has enough time to listen to the speech her fiancee had prepared.
Caleb would never admit this out loud to her, but he's almost glad he doesn’t have to mingle with these people. Sometimes, he stands by the double doors leading into the dining room, looking out of the circular windows at his sister. He can be sociable when he has to be, sure, but he also ultimately knows he doesn't belong with these types of people, not the way she does. He knows they can smell the lower middle class stench on him.
When the dinner starts to wind down and people are finishing up their desserts and white wines and cappuccinos, Caleb comes out again from the kitchen to mingle because he knows his sister would want him to. He's only feeling comfortable because he's been in the kitchen the whole time, and maybe he can pretend that he was the one in charge and not his dickhead of a boss. His sister glances over one more time at the entrance, and this time, Caleb does the same because there must've been a good reason for––
Regret floods Caleb’s mind, a massive cold front that seizes his chest and takes over the expanse of his ribcage.
"Zayne!" She stands up and strides over to the man walking in, his hair a little tousled from the wind outside and an apologetic smile on his face. He hands over a bottle of red wine with a label that Caleb recognizes as expensive and undoubtedly luxury.
Caleb can't hear what Zayne says to her. There are waves crashing into the shores of his eardrums, the riptide rushing through the canals. Five years have passed, and Caleb still feels the knot in his chest tangle impossibly tight at the familiar glimpse of midnight hair and hazel eyes. The bitter cold in his chest sours into a battery acid that spills into his extremities, the numbing static leaving him paralyzed.
"Are you okay?"
Caleb blinks. He stares at his sister's fiancee––what was his name again? Sylus?––and just blinks again. When he finally manages to find his voice, it stumbles past his lips in a garbled mess. "Yeah…" He coughs to clear his throat. "Yeah, man, thanks. I'll be right back."
Caleb spins around and walks back into the kitchen. He pushes past the double doors and past the other line cooks and into the walk-in where he crouches under the bundles of cilantro to silently contemplate his life choices. He closes his eyes, but the image of Zayne remains embedded into his eyelids. He still looks the same, if a little more mature, a little more put together. His hair has gotten longer, the ends curling around the nape of his neck, but it looks good, great even. His shoulders have gotten wider, or maybe he’s slouching a little less than he used to, as if he’s grown confident in his height. Caleb hates that he’s thinking about this at all.
//
Zayne doesn’t remember the first time they met, but Caleb does. His sister needed a tutor for math because she was failing horribly and their grandmother had no other choice. She cried every time their grandmother tried to explain geometry or long division. Even Caleb tried to help her, but it was like she purposely shut down at the mere sight of a linear equation.
When Zayne entered their home, Caleb sat at the top of the stairs, peeking between the railing just to catch a glimpse of this stranger who was supposedly better at teaching math than Caleb ever could.
It wasn’t that Caleb was jealous or anything like that. He was just…annoyed that he wasn’t enough for his little sister.
Zayne stood in the entryway with a polite smile on his face as he spoke to Caleb’s grandmother. He nodded at everything she said, concern furrowing his brows and reassurances coming from his mouth at the appropriate times. There was no way he was a teenager. He acted like an old man. Dressed like it, too, with a plain light blue button-up and black trousers.
Caleb scoffed as he stood up and walked to his room, pretending he wasn’t sulking the whole way there. He didn’t see the way Zayne’s gaze flickered to the top of the stairs, didn’t see the way curiosity sparked behind hazel eyes, didn’t hear the way Zayne cleared his throat to ask Josephine to repeat her last question.
//
Before Caleb can spiral even further, the door to the walk-in opens. He doesn’t look up in hopes that whoever it is will just ignore him.
“Get up.”
Sometimes, Caleb thinks he might kill his sister. Or at least give her a stern talking to because why is Zayne here at her engagement party looking just as gorgeous as the day he left? When did Caleb ever give her the impression that he needs her interference in his love life? Yes, he might be getting too cynical about love and every single notion related to romance, but that does not mean he's not doing fine.
“Why did you invite him?” Caleb asks, still looking down at the tiled floor. He begins to count the specks of dirt in the grout because he doesn’t want to look up. He doesn’t care if he’s acting like a child.
“He’s my friend, too,” she says, her voice raising. “He was my friend first before…”
She trails off, and Caleb finally looks up. She’s looking down at him with such obvious frustration and disapproval, he feels hot shame wash through him, prickling his skin in the cold air. He looks back down and continues counting.
“Stop pouting and get up.” She sighs. “Please.”
And Caleb knows he’s acting weird. He knows he has to act like the big brother who takes care of everything. Can she blame him, though? He was unguarded and everything started to spiral out of control as soon as Zayne walked in with his gentle hazel eyes and broad shoulders and perfectly tailored suit.
Caleb draws in a deep breath, finishes counting the specks surrounding the tile by his left foot (it’s 24), and stands up. His knee cracks and the blood rushes through his lower half. His sister nods approvingly and grabs him by the wrist in case he runs out the back door, no doubt. He trudges behind her, unwilling to face the man outside. She pushes through the double doors and he fights the urge to flinch. She tightens her grip on his wrist.
“Zayne! Look who I found!”
Caleb meets Zayne’s eyes, and he thinks about all the ways he wants to die. Preferably by drowning. Or buried alive in an active sinkhole.
Zayne, through some miracle or divine act of will, seems unfazed. He smiles at Caleb like half a decade never passed between them in complete and utter silence. He doesn’t reach out for an embrace or even a handshake, but Caleb is shocked to realize he was expecting something in the first place.
“How are you?” Zayne asks with that perfectly poised smile and the smallest tilt of his head.
Caleb frowns. White hot anger flashes through him because while Zayne looks like he’s finally figured out everything life has to offer him, Caleb has been stuck as a line cook at the same goddamn restaurant with nothing to show for it. He’s thirty-one, for fuck’s sake.
“How am I?” Caleb shoots back. “You ghost me for five years and you ask how I’m doing?”
“Caleb,” his sister says in a small voice, her hand tightening her grip on his sleeve. There’s a warning in her tone that he chooses to ignore.
Thankfully, most of the party guests have left already, but a few closer friends have stuck around to continue chatting. They start to glance over at them, eyes wide and taking in the spectacle unfolding. Caleb has stopped caring. His sister’s fiancee, however, hasn’t. Sylus claps a heavy hand on Caleb’s shoulder. He’s smiling, but Caleb can see the threat that lies behind it. He’s suddenly and acutely aware of everything and everyone in this restaurant. He flushes with embarrassment as he looks down at his sister. She has a frown on her face and her eyes are glistening with unshed tears.
Caleb feels his heart drop to the floor. He’s never seen her look like that before and the fact that he made it happen?
“Fuck, pips—“
“How about a quick walk?” Sylus asks. He ushers Caleb away from the rest of the party (Caleb briefly thinks where he belongs for a devastating moment) and says quietly, “I’m not quite sure what you have going on with that guy, but…” Sylus shakes his head and glances back at Zayne. “Perhaps this is a conversation best handled in private.”
Caleb looks behind him, halfway expecting Zayne to have moved on from the outburst, but he startles when he locks eyes with Zayne’s. He’s unreadable—as always—and Caleb frowns because he doesn’t know how else to react to that. Zayne says something to Caleb’s sister, leaning in close to her ear, and she glances at Caleb before eventually shaking her head.
Caleb isn’t entirely sure what happens next except that Zayne is suddenly beside him with an outstretched hand and an apologetic smile. Caleb doesn’t take it, instead nodding to the hallway that leads to the rooftop. He begins walking, only halfway expecting Zayne to follow him. He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or pained to hear the sound of steady footsteps behind him.
Caleb pushes open the door leading to the rooftop and is greeted by a brisk wind. He suddenly regrets not picking up his jacket on the way out, but it’s too late for that now. He walks to his usual spot at the railing, staring out at the blinking red lights atop the hospital. He leans against the railing, the cold metal biting into his bare skin.
“So that’s what it looks like from here,” Zayne says, voice quiet and almost contemplative. He stands beside Caleb, but doesn’t lean forward, keeping his hands deep inside his pockets.
“How long have you been back?” Caleb asks. He considers it again before continuing, “Or are you just here for the wedding?”
“A couple weeks ago. The foundation cut our funding after an unwanted finding and disagreements about the…” Zayne pauses suddenly, and Caleb looks over at him. “That’s not important. I won’t ramble on about that.”
Caleb looks closer at Zayne. When they’re standing like this, he can see more than he did inside the restaurant. He notices the dark circles under Zayne’s eyes, the beginnings of a wrinkle forming in between his brows. He wants to press his thumb against the crease to smooth it out like he used to. He almost begins to reach up, but he stops himself, a jerking twitch of his arm.
“I apologize for not writing while I was in Snowcrest,” Zayne says.
Caleb shrugs. “I’m sure you were busy.”
There’s an awkward lull in their conversation. Caleb doesn’t know how to continue after that, and he doesn’t think Zayne will follow up.
“Do you still enjoy working here?” Zayne eventually asks. He’s still staring out at the hospital.
“No, fuck this place,” Caleb scoffs and Zayne turns to him with a half-smile that seems to say that he understands. He hates the small talk. He wants to get to the point of it all, but he’s not even sure what the point is anymore. “So…are you not working right now, then?”
“I’m not working.” The tips of Zayne’s ears turn red like he’s embarrassed about the fact that he’s between jobs. “But I’m sure if I asked someone at Akso Hospital, they could work something out.”
Caleb nods. “Because the great cardiac surgeon Zayne Li can now get any position he wants after contributing to such groundbreaking research in Snowcrest.”
He means for it to come out reverent, but he knows from how Zayne’s shoulders tense up that it was not taken that way. Upon immediate reflection, he can now detect the sarcasm in his own voice.
“Sorry.”
Zayne waves a hand. Caleb notices pale scars etched on the back of Zayne’s hand, zigzagging without any noticeable pattern. Without a second thought, Caleb grabs onto Zayne’s wrist to inspect it. He leans forward, bringing up his other hand to trace the scars. He hates the difference between the smoothness of Zayne’s normal skin and the jaggedness of the scarring.
“What the hell happened to you?” Caleb asks. When he looks at Zayne again, he can finally see the weariness underneath his careful mask that threatens to completely unravel him. It’s a different type of exhaustion from before he left, and it scares Caleb to know how much he's changed since they separated.
If Caleb had known this would happen, he would’ve begged for Zayne to stay. He regrets everything that happened their last night together. He knows he can’t protect Zayne from everything in the world, but he wonders if there's another universe where this didn't happen. He thinks of another timeline where Zayne never went to Snowcrest, never left Caleb and everything they had built together.
Zayne slowly removes his hands from Caleb's and places them back inside his pockets. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you. It's… I signed an NDA."
Caleb can only nod. He lets the silence sit for a little while longer before he blurts out a quiet, “I really missed you.”
He can’t feel the late night chill anymore, replaced by the hot embarrassment of his confession, but he’s relieved to finally say it out loud. When he glances at Zayne again, he’s surprised to find his cheeks tinged pink, noticeable even in the low light. Caleb can't help but reach out to Zayne, touch light and careful so he doesn't scare the other off. Caleb hates this undercurrent of unfamiliarity running between them as if they don't have half a lifetime of history behind them, but five years is a lot of time for people to change. He may feel the same, but the Zayne in front of him now feels like a complete stranger.
When Zayne turns to look at Caleb again, Caleb realizes how wrong he is. He could look into a thousand pairs of hazel eyes and still find the ones that belong to Zayne. "I…missed you, too."
//
Caleb fell in love with Zayne gradually, then all at once on a summer night, like every other romance cliche. They were both so busy during this time—Zayne with his residency and Caleb with the impossible expectations held by the head chef—that Caleb couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment they began to drift apart. It wasn’t until a month into starting his job at Skyhaven Table that he noticed the last text between them was over two weeks ago.
Caleb Xia: would love if u could smuggle some fent from the hospital need it for a party
Caleb Xia: that ur invited to :)
Dr. Carrot Lover: Don’t implicate me in your dealings.
Caleb Xia: :(
Read 10:39 PM
Caleb stared at his phone screen, wondering if Zayne even thought about him at least half as much as he did. He pocketed his phone and stood up from the bench, stretching his arms above his head. Gideon had invited him to a house party after they closed up the restaurant for the night. He already snuck a couple shots from the bartender, and a comfortable warmth buzzed through his body. He opened up his locker and began gathering his things, shoving them haphazardly into his pockets.
The restaurant had been busier than usual for the whole week and he needed a little stress relief, so forgive him if he was a little eager to get to this party. He met Gideon and a couple other of his coworkers outside the high-rise building. The air around them was balmy, the heat that had been beaten into the concrete during the day dissipating into the cool night air.
"Are we going to the usual place?" someone asked. She had her arms wrapped around herself, and one of the other line cooks draped his jacket over her shoulders. Caleb chose to ignore that because he didn't like involving himself in the drama of the kitchen (although, he would have to ask Gideon about it later).
Roughly two hours later, Caleb found himself stuffed into a tiny apartment at, if not over, capacity. The music blared in his ears, exacerbated by the walls that seemed to be closing in around him. Bodies pressed against him, bumped into him, shoved him aside, though not on purpose so he couldn’t be too annoyed. If he just happened to spill a little bit of his mysterious jungle juice out of his cup and onto someone else, he couldn’t be the one to blame. The lights in the apartment were dim, but someone brought a flashing LED lighting rig that seemed straight out of a DJ set. It flashed beams of technicolor along the walls.
Caleb stopped asking questions after his fourth drink, but his headache was pounding in beat with the club-style remix of some top forty pop hit.
By the time he made it outside and onto the creaky fire escape, he could barely stand. He downed the last of his drink with a scowl, crawled out onto the rusted metal, and slammed the window shut behind him. The quiet was so sudden and all-consuming, his ears started to ring. When the ringing calmed down, he could barely hear the music except for a dull thudding through the glass. He took a couple deep breaths, reveling in the fresh air and holding it in his lungs.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at his last couple text messages with Zayne again. He knew he was being too clingy, too much of himself and not enough like the cool and put-together person that Zayne always was. Sometimes, he felt like Zayne was an untouchable being that occasionally came down to Earth to grace him and the other lowly humans with his presence.
Oftentimes, Caleb liked to cling to his delusions that Zayne liked him back and thought of him as more than a friend too.
Oftentimes, Caleb didn't think he was being too obvious (even if his sister said the opposite). He thought he was being perfectly coy about it.
The time was currently 1:14 in the morning, and Caleb had a little too much to drink in the span of too little time. Naturally, this was the perfect time to call Zayne. He leaned forward with his head hanging between his knees, his phone pressed against his ear as the dial tone echoed through his skull.
"...hello?"
Zayne's voice was gravelly, a little groggy. A pang of regret shot through Caleb's chest. He suddenly remembered the time and what that meant for respectable people like Zayne. He almost considered hanging up, but he already woke Zayne up.
And Zayne's voice was just too nice to ignore for Caleb's drunk mind.
"You know I can hear you breathing." Zayne was continuously the ever patient saint next to Caleb's impulsivity, and for that, Caleb was eternally grateful.
"Did I wake you?" Caleb asked like they both didn't know the answer.
The sound of a car alarm, then a door opening and closing. Relief flooded Caleb's mind. "No."
"Are you just leaving the hospital?"
"Busy night." A pause before Zayne continued. "It's late. Is something wrong?"
Caleb's head spun, and this call was the only thing grounding him. "I…just wanted to listen to your voice."
"Are you drunk right now?" There was a tinge of amusement in Zayne's voice.
Caleb felt the top of his head prickle, and suddenly he was flushed from his cheeks all the way down to his chest. His heart hammered like he was a hormonal teenager again. "Just a little. At a party. Kinda wanna leave."
"Do you need a ride back to your place?"
"Are you offering to be my knight in shining armor?"
"If you're okay with the knight driving a used sedan, then yes."
Caleb sat up and laughed, throwing his head back straight into the window. His head thumped against the glass and he hissed in pain as stars flooded his vision. "I'm okay with that."
Caleb's phone pinged with a new message and he checked his texts to see Zayne requested his location, which he shared after a few bumbling taps. He could hear the quiet chuckles coming from Zayne's end. Caleb didn't even realize he'd been mumbling to himself.
"I'll be there in ten minutes. Don't go anywhere."
"Roger that."
Zayne ended the call. The metal fire escape was cold underneath him, but he was still warm all over. He felt like a lovesick teenager with a hopeless crush on his classmate (which, at the end of the day, was exactly that if he factored in how long he'd been harboring said hopeless crush), but he had to play it cool. They were just friends. This wasn't going anywhere. Zayne was finishing up his residency and Caleb had an asshole of a boss that demanded almost all of his time. He leaned back against the window again, feeling the beats of the music against the inside of his skull more than hearing it. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the city at night.
"Are you planning to sleep out here tonight, or do you want me to take you home?"
Caleb's eyes shot open. He didn't realize he dozed off. He looked down at the sidewalk and first saw Zayne's car pulled over to the side, the headlights briefly blinding him. When his eyes finally adjusted, he saw Zayne's silhouette. "How'd you get here so quickly?"
"My car."
"At least your jokes are getting better." Caleb slowly began making his way down the fire escape, trying to focus while the gaps in the metal spun in his vision.
"Thank you, I practice in front of my bathroom mirror every night."
"Okay, shut up, I need to concentrate now."
Thankfully, Zayne didn't reply, but that meant he was watching Caleb's every move now. When he got to the last landing, he kicked the ladder and it fell into place with a loud clattering that seemed ear-shattering in the late night. He continued his descent down towards the sidewalk until his foot hit the last rung and then nothing. He looked down and he still seemed too far up for it to make sense.
"You have to jump the rest of the way," Zayne eventually said.
"I'm going to shatter both my ankles."
"No, you won't." Zayne was quiet for another moment. He moved closer to the ladder, just beneath Caleb. "Even if you did, I'm a doctor. And the hospital is ten minutes away."
"Because that really helps me right now, Dr. Li!" Caleb exclaimed. His palms were getting sweaty and he felt the flecks of rust sticking to every point of contact with his skin.
Zayne let out an exasperated sigh before replying with a "Just jump!"
So Caleb let go. He pushed off the ladder and let his body go into free-fall. His feet hit the ground much sooner than he thought, honestly catching him by surprise, and he began to stumble backwards. Though, before he could fall over, his back collided with something solid and warm and comforting all at once. Long arms wrapped around his middle to set him properly back on his feet.
And when Caleb turned his head, he locked eyes with a hazel that glowed in the reflection of the car headlights. For a stunned moment, Caleb's mind wandered to mornings wrapped up in Zayne's arms with early gray sunlight spilling through the windows, to sweaty nights pinned underneath Zayne with nothing between them. He wondered what Zayne would look like above him, edging closer to the precipice of pleasure.
"So, did you shatter your ankles?" Zayne asked with a small smile.
Caleb's eyes widened as he came back to himself. He inched away from Zayne and brushed his hands along his pants to get rid of the lingering flecks of rust and dirt. He began to make his way to Zayne's car, a little shaky on his feet still. "No. Thanks for catching me."
Another laugh, infuriating and perfect. Even though Caleb opened the door, Zayne held it open, his hand on the small of Caleb's back to lead him into the seat. Caleb, unable to fight the now omnipresent warmth radiating throughout his body, was grateful for the blast of cold air from the A/C.
//
Caleb gulps to clear the lump lodged in his throat. He stares at Zayne, unable to find his way out of the maze that is trying to figure out Zayne's mind. He reaches out to Zayne again, a gentle touch against Zayne's cheek, and Zayne lets out a shaky breath he must have been holding. His hand comes out of his coat pocket and presses it against Caleb's, turns his head to press his lips against Caleb's palm. His eyelids flutter closed as he inhales Caleb's scent.
"Kiss me," Caleb all but breathes out. "Please."
Zayne doesn't hesitate. He surges forward, leading Caleb's hand behind his neck where Caleb tangles his fingers in familiar locks. They collide greedily with more teeth than lips, but Caleb doesn't care. Zayne has him pinned against the railing, and he can't keep his hands off Zayne anymore now that he finally has him back. He so desperately wants to make up for lost time. He pants openly into Zayne's mouth, unable to catch his breath. Zayne moves away from Caleb's mouth to his cheeks, his ears, his neck, seemingly everywhere he can reach. His mouth leaves a lingering heat that sears Caleb's nerve endings. When did his hand get under Caleb’s shirt? Caleb shivers at the touch, his body pressing ever closer to Zayne’s.
"I've missed you so much," Zayne whispers in between kisses, barely heard above the wind. "I didn't think that ridiculous job would ever end."
Caleb pushes away from Zayne, and a flash of that same hurt from five years ago appears on Zayne's face before he slips on another mask. Caleb grabs onto Zayne's shoulders, unable to stop his hands from shaking. "What do you mean?"
"I never wanted that job," Zayne confesses.
And the realization of it all comes crashing down on Caleb like a ton of bricks. "You… But that job gave you everything."
Zayne furrows his brows, tilts his head as he tries to piece together what Caleb is saying. "No, it really didn't… I don't understand what you're getting at."
Caleb finally separates himself from Zayne. Thankfully, Zayne takes a step back, and Caleb ignores the lingering blush painting Zayne's cheeks. He steps to the side to put more space between them, holding his hands up. This whole time, he thought Zayne took that job to catapult him to the absolute top of his field and he would have no need for Caleb anymore. And the more Caleb thinks about it, the angrier he becomes.
"Why didn't you just turn down the job, then?!"
"Because I thought you wanted nothing to do with me!" Zayne exclaims, an outburst so unlike him that Caleb stumbles backward. "You were the only person keeping here, and then you told me you didn't care about what I did. So, of course I left."
Caleb's head begins spinning. Zayne opens his mouth to say something, but Caleb lifts a hand up to stop him. He walks towards the door leading back into the restaurant. "I'm sorry, I have to go. Good night, Zayne."
//
"Do you remember when Zayne told you about Snowcrest?"
Caleb's sister looks up from her pile of reports, an eyebrow raised. "Where is this coming from? Is this about the engagement party? I already said I was sorry for inviting him."
Slumped in the chair across from her desk, Caleb shakes his head. Ever since that night, he's been going over their conversation like a video stuck on repeat. He's also tried to remember the last time they spoke before Zayne left, but five years is a long time for a memory, and he knows he's getting some of the details muddled in the fog. "Do you remember?"
She shrugs as she signs a paper and places it into a folder full of other documents. "I guess. He said he wasn't sure if he wanted to take the job. And then… A couple days later, he said he was leaving." She places her pen down on the desk and directs her full attention to Caleb. "Seriously, what are you thinking about right now?"
Caleb shrugs. "Questioning the last five years of my life."
His sister raises an eyebrow. She leans back in her own chair and crosses her arms above her chest. "I know you didn't want to tell me about it then, but it's been a week now. What did you and Zayne talk about?"
Caleb and his sister have always shared everything with each other, so he doesn't know why he's so hesitant right now. "He never wanted to go to Snowcrest, which I don't fucking get because wasn't he supposed to be the smart one? He's always been top of our class and he was supposed to be the top doctor in his field, which was the whole point of the job, right?"
Before Caleb can continue his rant, his sister pounds on her desk, a hard thud that startles him. He stares at her with wide, confused eyes. "You're a dumbass. Leave my office and call him now."
"But—"
"And do not say anything until he's finished explaining himself. I thought you loved him?!"
Caleb sneers at his sister, which isn't something he likes doing, but if this is the time to do it, so be it. “I do."
"Then, listen to him. Without your stupid fucking assumptions. I thought I'd help you work things out, but you're stressing me out more than my wedding planning."
"That's hurtful," Caleb says, only half-joking. He's halfway out of the chair when she holds up her stapler like she's about to throw it at him. "Okay, we don't need to get violent! I'm going!"
Caleb doesn't call Zayne immediately. He doesn’t think he can face him right now. Instead, Caleb goes to work. If he throws himself into the kitchen and prep work and mindless cooking, he doesn’t have to think about how he fucked up a whole relationship. Because ultimately, he decided that Zayne should leave for Snowcrest, and that realization alone makes him rethink his entire life.
Did Zayne even want the recognition and fame? Or was Caleb's own ambition overshadowing everything else?
A plate of steak falls onto the counter beside Caleb, the ceramic clattering against stainless steel louder than the chaos of the kitchen. He looks up from his pan to find the head chef glaring at him.
“That’s the third steak you fucked up tonight! They’re all overdone! I don’t keep you here to fuck up my dishes!” the head chef yells. He grabs the pan and tongs from Caleb’s hands and shoves him aside. “You can leave.”
On any other day, Caleb would have retreated into the confines of the walk-in, shivering in the chill until the whole situation boiled over, but Caleb has had a lot on his mind lately and this job is surprisingly low on his list of priorities at the moment. Without another word, Caleb unbuttons his chef coat and removes it in the middle of the kitchen, dropping it onto the greasy tiles and non-slip mats. The head chef stares at him then the dirtied coat with open disgust clear in his snarl.
“Fuck your kitchen, anyway. I quit.”
Caleb has never done hard drugs before, but he imagines the rush coursing through his body is about the same. He meets eyes with Gideon, who nods approvingly, before leaving that hellhole of a kitchen for the last time. He doesn’t hear the head chef yelling after him, doesn’t look at the confused faces of his front of house coworkers as he walks past them, doesn’t care about what he looks like to the customers. He’ll miss the rooftop and being able to see the red blinking lights atop the hospital, but there will be other rooftops to admire the city skyline. Besides, the one person who worked at that hospital isn’t there anymore.
Caleb stops by the elevator and presses the button to go down, ignoring the growing chaos behind him. When the doors slide open, he’s surprised to see Zayne standing inside.
“Caleb, I—“
“We should get going now,” Caleb abruptly says and slips inside. “Hope you didn't wanna get dinner here tonight.”
Zayne looks into the restaurant, brows furrowed, but turns his attention fully to Caleb when the doors close. “I was actually hoping to catch you, but I see you’re finished with your shift.”
"I just quit," Caleb says, which Zayne responds with widened eyes. Caleb shrugs, watching the numbers descend closer to the ground floor. "I've been here long enough. I'll find another job somewhere else."
When the elevator announces its arrival with a chime, the doors slide open and Caleb steps out. He turns to look at Zayne with a grin. He hasn't felt this light on his feet in years. "Let's get dinner. My treat. I've been meaning to talk to you, too."
Five blocks north from Skyhaven Table sits the oldest district of the city, rundown and kept alive solely by people who refuse to leave. Caleb always found the dichotomy between the wealthiest and the oldest districts interesting. He enjoys watching the transition of starched business suits turn into casual workwear. He likes walking through the streets and smelling the food being sold by street vendors. On his rare days off, he'll find a bench in between the two districts and watch the two intermingle with each other like a conversation between a mother and her son.
Today, though, Caleb doesn't pay much attention to this. He walks down winding streets and down an alleyway into a restaurant that he likes to go to when he’s craving something from his childhood. A hostess greets them at the door and leads them further inside. The narrow hallway opens up into the larger dining room, and it’s already full of people for the dinner rush. The hostess seats them in a booth.
“Someone will be with you shortly. Enjoy.”
The booth is smaller than Caleb thought, the high backs giving them more privacy than he thought. He nearly brushes knees with Zayne as he gets comfortable. The low lighting and constant buzz of noise makes him feel a little bolder.
“You still come here?” Zayne asks as he flips through the aged menu, the pages fraying in his fingers.
Caleb grins, grabbing his own menu. “They’re consistent and they’ll always have a seat for me.”
For us, he almost adds, but bites his tongue.
Zayne nods and if Caleb looks a little closer, he can see the beginnings of a smile edging at the corner of his lips. He closes his menu and folds his hands atop the table. “I trust you know what to order for me, then.”
“Of course I do.”
Once Caleb orders their food, the table is engulfed in silence. He clears his throat, watching the way Zayne’s gaze flickers down to his neck then back up to his eyes for half a second.
“I want to begin by saying I’m sorry.”
//
Caleb dropped out of culinary school. He was a good student, but an even better chef. He hated having to drop out, but getting to work at Skyhaven Table was an opportunity he refused to turn down. That was before he realized the head chef was a raging asshole of a boss. Regardless, having Skyhaven Table on his resume was guaranteed to open many doors for him in the future, if not every single door to the culinary world.
Zayne always knew what he wanted to do. Caleb couldn’t help but feel a confusing mixture of jealousy and motivation at the sight of Zayne working so hard towards his definitive goal. Caleb always felt that was his own problem: the lack of a definitive goal. He figured himself out as they grew up, but he couldn’t figure out where he belonged with Zayne. He wanted to cook, but Zayne needed to save people. Sometimes, in their five years of silence, Caleb wondered if he ever really had a place in that vision of Zayne’s future.
Caleb sat in Zayne’s apartment (he was always in Zayne’s apartment solely because it had a nice view of the city skyline and had central air, which was a luxury he couldn’t afford at the time), staring at Zayne type something into his phone. The television was playing some historical drama, but Caleb couldn’t be bothered to watch it. He had more important things on his mind.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were moving to Snowcrest?”
Zayne, at the very least, had the right mind to look embarrassed. He looked up from his phone to Caleb, eyes wide, then back down at his phone. “How’d you find that out?”
“Answer my question first,” Caleb replied.
“I was offered a research job there, and I…am unsure when I will be returning.”
Caleb leaned over to grab Zayne’s phone. Luckily, Zayne didn’t protest, relaxed his grip and watched Caleb place the phone facedown on the coffee table.
“Okay, and?”
“I would rather not have this conversation right now.”
Caleb frowned. He could feel his frustration bubbling in his diaphragm, a warmth that threatened to simmer into a scalding heat. “I don’t get why you can’t just give me a direct answer.”
When Zayne finally managed to look up at Caleb again, his hazel eyes glistened with everything he wanted to say. He opened his mouth as if to say something, snapped his mouth shut, looked everywhere in the room except at Caleb, bit his bottom lip. By any means, Caleb wasn’t a patient man, but he would try for Zayne.
“I was afraid that…if I had told you, you would ask me to stay.”
Caleb’s mouth twisted into a sneer, an angry retort already at the edge of his lips, but Zayne quickly grabbed hold of Caleb’s hands, trembling and cold. There was a desperate plea in Zayne’s expression that made Caleb pause.
“If you told me to stay right now, I would. I’ll rescind my offer and they can find my replacement.”
Except Caleb knew how niche Zayne’s field was. He could count how many other doctors specialized in whatever the hell it was on one hand. He knew an opportunity like this would catapult Zayne into every single academic journal, conference, whatever he wanted. Surely, this was something Zayne must have been dreaming of since he started medical school.
And yet, he was willing to put all that on hold for Caleb. He loved Zayne—he didn’t want to be separated for even a week—but if he asked Zayne to stay, he wouldn’t be able to handle the guilt. He wasn't worth much compared to everything that Zayne would gain from this job.
So, Caleb figured he would decide for them.
He yanked his hands away from Zayne’s, and a hot flash of guilt and shame washed over him before he shoved it deep into the recesses of his mind. He shot up to his feet because if he had to see the hurt in Zayne’s expression for even one more moment, he knew he couldn’t follow through with this.
“Don’t use me as your fucking excuse for your insecurity or whatever the hell it is keeping you from going. Take the job or don’t, but don’t tell me to make that decision for you.”
And because Caleb knew Zayne for so long, Zayne took the bait. Zayne’s anger was different from Caleb’s. Where Caleb was brash and explosive, Zayne was detached and quiet. Caleb watched as Zayne stood from the couch and crossed the living room to the entryway. He opened the door, motioning for Caleb to leave, and Caleb didn’t waste any more time. He refused to look at Zayne as he crossed through the doorway.
The sound of the lock sliding into place felt like a quiet sort of devastation that made Caleb go weak in the knees. It took everything in him not to turn around and apologize and beg Zayne to stay.
//
“Are you still in the same apartment?” Zayne asks.
Caleb stops in front of his building with a proud grin on his face. “You know it. The landlady won’t raise my rent, so I’m never leaving unless it’s in a coffin.”
Zayne hums and looks up the side of the building, presumably stopping at Caleb’s window. There’s a small smile on his face, one that hasn’t left him since they finished dinner. It’s a little sadder, more nostalgic, and it makes him look older. It makes Caleb think of all the time they've had together since they met, but also all the time they lost apart.
It makes Caleb want to spend the rest of his lifetime next to Zayne.
“Do you wanna come up for a drink? A coffee, maybe?” Caleb asks, hesitant. Even after all this time, he's still too self-conscious to appear too eager to Zayne, still wants to impress him.
“I’d like that.”
As they make their way up to the apartment, Caleb can’t help but feel an uneasiness settle in his stomach, churning into something not quite unfamiliar. He can't pin it down, but as he unlocks the door and watches Zayne sit on his couch, he thinks he finally recognizes it for what it is. He doesn't know if that makes him more nervous.
Caleb heads into the kitchen in an attempt to calm his nerves. "Do you want a coffee? Tea? Water?"
Caleb looks over the counter to see Zayne removing his coat, and he feels his palms go clammy at the tight line of fabric across Zayne's shoulders. He's in a pressed button-up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he runs his hands through his hair. He turns to look at Caleb, and Caleb suddenly remembers that he's still attracted to this man. Caleb pretends he wasn't just staring and grabs his electric kettle to fill it with water.
"Do you have oolong tea?" Zayne asks, making his way to the kitchen with light steps.
Caleb sets the full kettle in its stand and turns it on to boil. While he's looking through the cabinet for his meager collection of teas, he feels a warmth against his back and arms wrapping around his waist. Zayne buries his face into the crook of Caleb's shoulder, seemingly just…breathing him in. His thumbs begin rubbing tiny circles into Caleb's hips.
"So, we're not even going to keep up the pretense of having tea together?" Caleb asks. He almost laughs, but it dies on the way out of his mouth because he can feel the outline of Zayne's lips against the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
"Is this not why you invited me up here?" Zayne replies, his voice reverberating through Caleb's body and straight down into his core like a wildfire in a forest. In a quieter voice, he continues, "Five years, I waited. I don't think I can anymore. Respectfully."
Caleb turns around in Zayne's arms and puts his hands on Zayne's face, pulling Zayne in towards him in a slow kiss. It's almost nervous, unlike their kiss on the rooftop. Caleb hasn't done this in a while, so he lets Zayne take the lead. He opens his mouth willingly for Zayne, letting his tongue into his mouth. He can taste traces of a mint on Zayne's tongue and he laughs.
"Prepped yourself for this?" Caleb asks.
"I wanted to make a good impression," Zayne says, a faint dust of pink sweeping over his cheeks.
Caleb brushes his right thumb along Zayne's cheek, then the line of Zayne's mouth, trying to commit the feeling to memory. Zayne opens his mouth and Caleb's thumb sinks inside. Zayne’s eyelids flutter closed, his tongue running along the thumb pad. If Caleb were a weaker man, he would have fallen to his knees right then and there.
“Fuck,” Caleb whispers. He removes his thumb from Zayne’s mouth and kisses him again, nearly knocking into his teeth with the force. His hands move down, desperate to get Zayne's clothes off his body. He tugs the shirt out of Zayne's pants, tugging harder until the buttons come off because he does not have the patience to undo each one.
"That was an expensive shirt," Zayne laments as the buttons clatter on the tile.
"Shut up, I'll buy you a new one."
Zayne laughs and presses a kiss against Caleb's jawline, continuing to scatter kisses across his cheeks and down his neck. When Caleb finally has his hands on Zayne's bare torso, he begins to trace each dip and contour, remembering features he etched into his memory years ago. His hands stop at Zayne's belt buckle, fumbling to get it undone.
Zayne clicks his tongue, grabbing Caleb’s hand and leading him out of the kitchen. Caleb, too dazed to complain, follows. Zayne sheds his shirt on the way to the bedroom, dropping it carelessly on the floor. Caleb begins to drool at the sight of Zayne’s naked backside, imagining marking it up with his mouth or his hands, he doesn’t care which comes first.
“Come here,” Zayne says as he settles onto the bed.
He hooks a finger into one of Caleb’s belt loops and leans back until Caleb falls forward, elbows on either side of Zayne’s head. Caleb slots his knee in between Zayne’s thighs, feeling the heat radiating against him. They’re unmoving for a moment, Caleb breathing in as Zayne breathes out. He stares at Zayne, searching for any sign of uncertainty or doubt, but Zayne’s pupils are blown wide, nearly engulfing his entire iris. Caleb licks his lips, Zayne traces the movement.
“Have you…since then?” Caleb asks, but he doesn’t know why he can’t bring himself to say it out loud, He gulps the lump in his throat. “Do you still want to…?”
Zayne smiles, brushing the hair out of Caleb’s forehead, then rests his hand against Caleb’s cheek, his thumb rubbing comforting circles. “I have never stopped loving you. Of course I still want you.”
The reassurance does more for Caleb than he’s willing to admit, but he’ll never say it out loud, so he kisses Zayne again. He feels Zayne shift against his knee, and he freezes. Caleb reaches down to palm Zayne through his pants, grinning at the stiffness he feels through the fabric. He removes his hand, and before Zayne can protest, moves his knee. Zayne gasps, thrusting up in an attempt for more friction. His eyes screw shut and his brows furrow. Caleb presses a kiss to the middle of Zayne's brows, his fingers coming up to smooth out the creases that have begun to settle there.
"You're getting wrinkles there now." Caleb imagines every time Zayne got too caught up in his work to pay any attention to himself, and regrets not being there whenever it happened.
"Get out of your head and stay here with me," Zayne only says, his breaths escaping him. He thrusts once more against Caleb's leg with a drawn out groan. "Do you really want to make it up to me?"
Caleb jolts to attention, a flash of desire coursing through him at the proposition.
"Get on your knees."
Caleb crawls off his bed and his knees hit the floor with a dull thud. He watches as Zayne stands up and undoes his belt buckle, then his pants. For a brief moment, Caleb thinks it's all a little unfair that Zayne still seems so composed despite this being their first time in half a decade. Caleb feels like a goddamn virgin with how hard he is, the blood pumping loud in his ears. When Zayne steps out of his pants, Caleb fights to keep his mouth closed, all but drooling on the floor, waiting like a dog for his treat. He balls his hands into trembling fists above his knees because if he doesn't, he fears he might pounce on Zayne.
And Caleb wants to be so good for Zayne.
In terms of human anatomy, Caleb can't help but admire Zayne's physicality. Toned muscles, lean limbs, curved cock that he holds in one hand. He grabs onto Caleb's chin, forcing Caleb to look up through his lashes. He can smell the musk coming from Zayne, heady and so familiar. It's like he never left.
"Open up for me, baby," Zayne whispers, squeezing Caleb's cheeks until his mouth forms a perfect circle for Zayne to slide into.
Caleb may have forgotten just how large Zayne really is. He forces himself to breathe through his nose as Zayne begins to thrust shallowly. He relaxes his jaw, moaning around the fullness in his mouth. He'd forgotten how much he missed the ache of it, the feeling of being used by Zayne for his pleasure. He feels his drool spill out the sides of his mouth as Zayne grabs a fistful of his hair. Desperate to chase his own release, Caleb reaches into his pants to pull his own cock out. He strokes himself in time with Zayne's thrusts, his hand growing slick with his pre-cum.
"Fuck, I missed your mouth," Zayne mutters, his thrusts slowly deepening until Caleb feels him hit the back of his throat. Tears prick the corners of Caleb's eyes, and Zayne swipes them away. "Are you touching yourself right now?"
Caleb hums in affirmation because he's so close. If Zayne keeps going, he'll fall right off the edge and––
Zayne pulls out of Caleb's mouth completely, and Caleb openly whines, fully past the point of embarrassment. He tries to pitch forward, but Zayne’s tight grip in his hair stops him.
“Get up.”
Dazed, Caleb scrambles to his feet as if he’s possessed. He knows he must look like a mess, but Zayne doesn’t look much better, his chest heaving and face flushed red. He brings his hand behind Zayne's head, entangling his fingers in the wispy locks by his neck and brings Zayne closer into another kiss. It's sloppy, but they don't care. He feels Zayne push his pants past his hips and they fall to the floor. When Caleb steps out of his pants, he pushes Zayne onto the bed and crawls into his lap. He wraps his hand around both their cocks and begins stroking again, languid and lazy. Zayne lets out a low moan by Caleb's ear.
"God, need you in me," Caleb all but begs as he thrusts into his hand. He presses a kiss against Zayne's temple with an excited grin. "Or I can fuck you too, whichever works."
Without a word, Zayne holds his hand up to Caleb's mouth, two of his fingers slipping inside. He swirls his tongue around Zayne's middle and ring fingers, coating them liberally. Zayne removes his fingers from Caleb's mouth and reaches down and behind, a single digit pressing against Caleb's entrance. Caleb gasps at the intrusion, but he forces himself to relax, sinking a little lower to give Zayne easier access. Caleb whines because the pressure is so nice already, but it's not enough yet.
"Focus on me," Zayne whispers as his finger sinks a little deeper.
Caleb leans back a little, a little further down against Zayne's hand, and looks into those dark hazel eyes again. Zayne smiles at him, ever so patient. He moves Caleb's hand away to stroke their cocks together because apparently, Caleb can't focus on more than one thing at a time right now. Zayne presses another finger against Caleb's hole, and he rubs his thumb along the slit of Caleb's cock, the beading pre-cum leaving his thumb slick.
Caleb flinches with a sharp hiss. "Motherfucker."
Zayne clicks his tongue. "So sensitive."
"Can you just get on with it?" Caleb asks with a frown. He thrusts up into Zayne's hand, sighing in relief as he rubs against Zayne's cock. He begins to fuck himself on Zayne's fingers, his hands coming up to brace against Zayne's shoulders.
"Get on with it?" Zayne replies. His hand tightens around their cocks, and his other hand begins to bully Caleb's hole. He changes the angle of his wrist to find Caleb's prostate, his long fingers brushing against it again and again.
Caleb cries out, his back arching. He's so close already. He moans brokenly against Zayne, his fingers digging into Zayne's shoulders and pressing deep crescent moons into pale skin. "Fuck… Fuck, Zayne, gonna cum, I'm gonna—"
Caleb tumbles over the edge with a sharp yelp, his cum spilling in spurts over Zayne's hand. He leans forward, burying his head into Zayne's shoulder as he catches his breath. He doesn't know how much time passes, but he vaguely registers Zayne's still hard cock against his own.
"Good?" Zayne asks. He makes a move to get up, but Caleb presses a hand to Zayne's chest and lays him down against the bed.
"My turn," Caleb says, grinning. He takes the cum on Zayne's hand and coats the other's cock with it. He spits on his hand, stroking a couple times before lining up with his hole.
"Wait, Caleb, you don't have to, it's—" Zayne cuts himself off as Caleb sinks down onto the tip. His hands fly to Caleb's hips, grip tight enough to leave bruises by morning.
Admittedly, the stretch is a lot, and Caleb hasn't done this in a while, but he missed the ache of it. Zayne's cock is wider than his fingers, but one orgasm should be enough to loosen Caleb up a little. Inch by inch, he continues to sink lower until he's fully seated in Zayne's lap. Zayne brings a hand up to brush the sweat damp locks of hair out of Caleb's face. Every single nerve ending inside of Caleb is on fire. He's trembling from the overstimulation, but he hasn't even begun to move yet.
"Are you okay?"
Caleb nods his head because he knows that if he opens his mouth, nothing intelligible will come out. Eventually, he lifts his hips up, and slams back down. Zayne groans, thrusting up into Caleb's heat, which sends Caleb tumbling forward onto Zayne's chest.
"I know… I said I'd ride…" Caleb tries again to lift his hips, but he feels too boneless. He knows he looks pathetic, but he doesn't care.The fullness of Zayne's cock buried inside him is too much to bear on his own. "Need you to fuck me."
To his credit, Zayne doesn't laugh, just taps his fingers against Caleb's hip, and Caleb takes that as a signal to climb off. He rolls onto his back, letting himself sink into the sheets. Zayne lifts Caleb's legs onto his shoulders and lines up against Caleb's entrance again. He slides in easily this time without much resistance. Caleb hasn't stopped trembling still. He feels Zayne press a kiss against his inner thigh.
"You're so good to me, love," Zayne mumbles as he starts at a steady pace.
Caleb moans into the pillow, his softening cock leaking something clear against his stomach.
"Can I fuck you a little faster? Please? You're always such a good boy for me."
Caleb nods. He feels Zayne's hands around his hips again, then Zayne is pounding into him, a brutal pace that makes his eyes roll back. He can't even make a sound anymore, each breath he tries to take in is shoved out of him with each thrust. His hands fist the sheets beneath him.
"Good boy. You always take me so well." Zayne falls forward onto his hands, folding Caleb nearly in half.
Zayne's voice drifts into static. Distantly, Caleb is aware that he's probably replying. All that really registers to him is the slide of Zayne's cock inside of him, hot as a brand. Caleb watches as Zayne's thrusts grow more erratic, watches as his face scrunches up, and then he goes still. Caleb brings Zayne's face to meet his, swallowing the moan that leaves Zayne's throat with a sloppy kiss.
When Zayne leans back, Caleb takes a moment to admire Zayne's beauty. He's completely flushed from the tips of his ears down to his chest. A thin sheen of sweat lines his brow. Caleb reaches up to smooth out the crease between Zayne's brows again.
Zayne grabs into Caleb's hand and presses a kiss to the inside of Caleb's palm. "Please don't make me leave again."
//
The wedding is extravagant and everything Caleb's sister ever wanted. Caleb walks her down the aisle, tears up when Sylus slips the ring on her finger and they recite their vows, claps when they kiss and get on his motorcycle together. It's appropriate, somehow, for their wedding. The reception starts in the evening and goes long into the night. The wedding planner, apparently having been paid handsomely for her efforts, claims this to be her best work. The entire venue is decorated in deep burgundy flowers and rich brown fabrics complemented by cream satin. Caleb remembers how his sister always wanted an autumn wedding and he's happy she finally got it for herself. He watches her and Sylus dance in the middle of the venue, the spotlight turning her into a radiant star twirling around.
Caleb stands by the bar, admiring the work that was put into this whole thing. He undoes his bowtie, the ends hanging around his neck, and pops the top two buttons open, the heat of the night finally getting to him. His sister was too stressed out in the weeks leading up to this, and he's glad it finally paid off. Though, knowing her, there's at least one thing bouncing around in her head despite the dazzling smile she has on now.
Caleb watches Zayne pull away from the crowd, then say something to Caleb's sister and Sylus. He walks toward Caleb, and even in the dim lights, Caleb can see a faint flush painting his cheeks a ruddy red. He stops right in front of Caleb with a genuine smile on his face.
"Would you like to come home with me tonight?" Zayne asks, holding a hand out to Caleb.
"Of course, I would," Caleb replies, taking Zayne's hand and tugging his arm to wrap around his own waist.
Zayne's arm slots in against Caleb's waist like a puzzle piece that's always belonged there. Caleb feels warmth flood his chest and flow through every vein inside him, not unlike lava that engulfs everything in its path. He looks behind him to see his sister staring at them. He waves at her and she waves back. She says something to Sylus and he buries his face into her shoulder to muffle a laugh.
Caleb and Zayne walk through the winding garden that leads out into the parking lot. The dainty fairy lights lining the trees along the path leave a rosy glow in the nighttime that Caleb can only describe as dreamy. He's had a couple drinks in him so everything is a little hazy at the moment. He stops and takes Zayne's hand. Zayne only tilts his head and gives Caleb a small smile. The music from inside can still be heard faintly on the breeze, a slower ballad to close out the night.
"Are you trying to make a move on me? In the garden?" Zayne asks as Caleb brings his arms up around the other's neck. "What are we, teenagers?"
Caleb laughs. "Would you like to have this dance with me?"
Without question, Zayne places his hands on Caleb's waist, pulling him just a little closer until there are mere inches between them. Distantly, Caleb wonders if he can make this work again, but he decides that loving Zayne will always be worth it. They begin to sway with the music, and when Caleb looks into Zayne's eyes, he's reminded of sunlit-dappled moss on the forest floor.