Chapter Text
The warmth of the room fogged the window as it clashed with the bitter cold of the outside. Call wiped the fog away and stared through the small section of cleared glass at the driveway that led up to the entrance of the Magisterium Academy. He was waiting for someone; his father, to be exact, who should have been here hours ago to pick him up.
With the winter months came the holidays and with the holidays came the two week long break from school that permitted Call to finally go home and spend time with his dad. However, this year Alastair hadn’t been able to make the trip up until only a few days before Christmas, which meant that Call had been forced to take time for himself, watching all of his classmates go back to their families while he kicked around the academy aimlessly.
Outside, snow fell in heavy drifts, coating the roads in thick white blankets. The snowstorm was illuminated by a few lamps, but otherwise the street was dark. Call’s expression grew worried as he watched the snow deepen and the darkness close in fully. He wasn’t sure if his father would be able to make it through it all, especially since his car was such an old and fragile model.
“Are you alright?” someone asked from behind him. Call whirled around to see Aaron standing there, holding two covered cups. He was a little surprised that Aaron was still here, considering that all of the other students had left for the holidays already. Then again, Aaron hadn’t mentioned any family or other people he could spend the holidays with. Maybe he was just going to stay here. Alone.
Call hoped Aaron wouldn’t have to spend the holidays alone.
Things had been a little...weird between them lately, to say the least. It had been a little over a month since Aaron had kissed him at the end of their “date”, but they had avoided each other ever since. Call knew he was avoiding Aaron because a part of him didn’t feel ready for a relationship, but he wasn’t sure why Aaron returned the gesture. At least, he partially returned the gesture. Any attention gained was all skirting glances, watching without letting the other know, and a slight brush of hands in passing, though the latter had only happened once.
It was all so chaste and confusing to Call. He felt like he was being pulled in and then being pushed out in a repetitive dance that he didn’t know the steps to. One moment he would catch Aaron staring at him in class, then the next they would both avoid each other’s gaze in the hallway. He liked Aaron, that he was at least certain of, but he was having trouble expressing it. Part of him wanted to just clench his hands into fists and scream in frustration.
Despite his annoyance at his inability to show emotions, however, he answered Aaron’s question. “Yeah. I just don’t know if my dad will be able to make it up here through all that snow.”
He turned to stare out the window again and felt the couch sink slightly as Aaron took a seat next to him. They were both in the upstairs common room, which was a large sitting room packed with tables and chairs for students to congregate. It had been nicknamed “the Gallery” before Call’s time, though it wasn’t an official title.
“Here,” Aaron said after a long, drawn out silence. He pushed one of the cups at Call, who, while taking it, raised a confused eyebrow at Aaron.
“What is it?” he asked skeptically. It was warm, to say the least. He could feel the heat of whatever drink was inside trying to seep through the cup and into his cold fingers, yet to no avail. Call’s hands would always be cold, no matter what. That was just one of the many things that came with being a vampire.
Aaron smiled at him, still managing to outshine the sun with such little effort while doing so. “It’s hot chocolate. You can drink that, right?”
Call rolled his eyes despite the endearment he felt for Aaron’s consideration. “Yeah, I can drink it.”
He took a sip, wincing when the hot chocolate scalded his tongue. He continued to glance outside of the window, but now his gaze would return to Aaron every so often. Aaron remained reserved next to him, strictly keeping his eyes on his own hot chocolate. The light of the Gallery was dim but warmed Aaron’s features like the sun would.
“How come you’re still here?” Call asked him eventually, once he’d finally found the silence unbearable to endure. Aaron shifted next to him, looking a little uncomfortable.
“They’re just a little late in picking me up, I guess,” Aaron replied, looking away pointedly. He hunched his shoulders and clutched the hot chocolate tightly in his hands. Call frowned.
“You’re lying.” Aaron’s gaze snapped back to him, surprised. Call was staring at him with puzzled gray eyes. “Why did you lie?”
“How do you know I’m lying?” Aaron challenged, stuttering like he was trying to recover his cool.
“Because you’re terrible at it. Don’t insult me, Aaron.”
Aaron sighed and took a sip of his hot chocolate. He looked a little ashamed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Call let out a half laugh, half scoff and leaned back against the couch. “Could’ve just said that at the start.”
A slightly tense silence passed between the two of them, broken by the sound of Call’s phone as it began to buzz. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the contact, which he registered as his dad’s, before answering.
“Hello?”
“Call,” came Alastair’s usual serious tone through the receiver, “the phantom got stuck in the snow on my way up to your school.”
“Is the car okay?” came Call’s immediate response. He knew how much his dad loved that car. On some days he’d be willing to bet Alastair loved it even more than him.
“Yes, I was able to get it towed out.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m a bit concerned that that was your second question and not your first, but yes, I am fine.”
Call laughed. Never let it be said that Alastair didn’t have a sense of humor.
Alastair continued, “I’m sorry, but the way things are looking right now…” he trailed off, the silence crackling through the receiver, “it seems as if I won’t be able to make it up to the academy until the roads are cleared tomorrow morning.”
“Oh. Okay.” Call’s heart sank a little, even though he understood the reasoning behind it. He’d been looking forward to spending Christmas with his dad. It certainly beat sitting around the academy in one of his few outfits left (he saved all of his laundry for when he went on break, mostly just grateful for having the washing machine and dryer all to himself) trying to think of things to occupy himself.
“I’m very sorry, Call,” Alastair apologized again.
“No, it’s okay. Really. It’s just one more day, right?”
“It should be,” Alastair said, “Unless this storm lasts longer than I think it will.”
Call looked outside at the flurries of snow whipping about the front courtyard. “How far out are you?”
“About an hour.”
Call sighed. Beside him, Aaron was staring curiously, albeit with a sad look on his face. Call tried to ignore the look.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Alastair said, sounding like he was saying goodbye.
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
Call hung up the phone. That sinking feeling continued to fall in his chest, which was stupid. Why was he so broken up about this? It’s not like Alastair could control the weather. It was the snowstorm’s fault, and no one could shake a stick at a snowstorm. Honestly, the way he felt his throat closing up, as if he were about to cry, was idiotic and childish. Stupid feelings.
“Was that your dad?” Aaron asked. Call had forgotten he was there for a moment. He suddenly felt a renewed determination to push the tears back and nodded. Aaron’s face turned sympathetic.
“I’m sorry, Call,” he said. Call stood up from the couch.
“For what?” He gestured out the window at the storm, scoffing as he did so. “The snow? It’s not like you or I could control it.”
Aaron continued to stare sadly at him. Call hated that. He didn’t want to be looked at like that. Like he was some dumb kid who got knocked down on the playground. He’d been stared at like that so often that one would think he’d be used to it by now, but it was different coming from Aaron.
A month ago, Aaron had made Call feel known . That’s why he’d wanted to kiss him in the first place. But now, between all of the avoidance and the fact that Aaron had lied to him moments prior, Call wasn’t sure he knew Aaron at all; nor was he sure that Aaron knew him .
“Stop looking at me like that,” Call said eventually.
“Like what?” Aaron asked, as if he were unaware that he was even doing it.
“Like that . Like I’m a puppy you found on the street in a box.” Call winced at the words coming out of his own mouth. Saying that just reminded him of Havoc and how much he missed him too. As a rule, Call couldn’t have pets with him at the academy, so Havoc lived at home with his dad. Who was stuck in the storm. For an entire day. Leaving Call stranded here with Mr. Mystery Man.
“Call…”
“No. Really. Stop it. I hate it.”
“You sounded upset…”
“Big whoop for you, Sherlock. Why do you give a shit?” Call was spiking out again, like he always did when people tried to comfort him. He supposed Aaron wasn’t an exception.
“Because I care, Call.” Aaron sounded a little desperate now. A part of Call hated that he was the one who had put the worried crease between Aaron’s brows, but it was only a small part of him. The other, larger part was very, very peeved.
“Yeah? Then why did you lie to me?” he bit out. Aaron winced.
“I didn’t want to talk about my family. That’s all.” Call’s eyes narrowed.
“You could have just said that at the start instead of trying to act like everything was fine.”
Call expected Aaron to push back against him, to argue further, but he didn’t. Instead, Aaron simply sighed and looked up at Call. His eyes were still teeming with sadness, but it wasn’t a pity kind of sadness. It was a real sadness. A pained sadness. A sadness from experience.
“You’re right,” he said eventually, “I’m sorry.” Call opened his mouth to retort.
“You’re--wait, what?” He was confused, taken aback by the sudden apology.
“I said that I’m sorry. I won’t lie again, I promise.”
Call had a shocked expression on his face as he regarded Aaron. After a short silence, a small smile returned to Aaron’s face.
“Did I take you by surprise there?”
It was enough to make Call laugh, but it was only a slight laugh. Still, it brightened Aaron’s expression considerably.
“A little,” he said, “I’m used to arguing with Tamara. She wouldn’t give up and apologize like that in a million years.”
“Just like you,” Aaron grinned, “You’re both pretty hard headed.”
Call’s eyes widened in mock-offense as he sat back down next to Aaron, hitting him lightly on the arm. “You’re such a jerk!” he laughed.
They both stared at each other for a moment, still holding their hot chocolates by some miracle after all of that. Call took the time to study Aaron’s features closely, feeling like his memory of the other’s face had faded over the time they’d been skirting around each other. Aaron looked as if he was doing the same thing to Call, though neither would admit it to the other.
The air between them seemed to forget time itself as Call was transported back to November--to a clear night with only a slight chill where the stars shone upon that old playground that was far into town. Then, Aaron’s green eyes had been drowned out by pale twilight. Now they were alive and dancing in the warm glow of the Gallery.
“You,” Aaron breathed after a long moment, “are an enigma, Callum Hunt.”
Call liked the way Aaron said his name. The corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Yeah? How?”
Aaron tilted his head, still studying Call. “Every time I feel like I’m starting to understand you, you flip it all on its head. Sometimes you even change the dreams.”
Call grinned and leaned closer to Aaron. “Maybe you’re just a shitty psychic.”
“Excuse me for trying to be romantic,” Aaron laughed, rolling his eyes, which was an uncommon gesture for him. Maybe Call was starting to rub off on him.
“Please,” Call smirked, “Continue. I was enjoying it.”
He was shamelessly flirting now, but Aaron seemed to be matching him with the look he was giving Call. Maybe it was a good thing that he was trapped here for another night after all.
Aaron laughed abashedly and looked down at his hands, which were holding onto his hot chocolate. The warmth of the cups had bled out a little by now. It was likely that it wasn’t as scalding as it had been when Call had first tried to drink his.
“You’re really wearing out my poetry skills,” Aaron said.
“Can’t handle it, lover boy?” Call teased. Aaron pushed at him lightly.
“Give me a minute to think!” he laughed, “You put me on the spot!”
“A true poet would rhyme on the spot.” Call smirked at Aaron, but nevertheless held his tongue as the blond scrambled for poetic sounding words. After a moment, Aaron’s face lit up like a lightbulb.
“Got it!”
“Enlighten me.”
Now it was Aaron’s turn to smirk. Call almost laughed at the expression, amused by how sure of himself Aaron was.
“Y’know…” Aaron lilted playfully, “When I said you changed my dreams, I thought you were the one that changed the stars. Now I see that the stars would gladly change themselves for someone like you.”
That was...pretty smooth, if not sickly sappy. Call gave it an eight out of ten. The star metaphor was pretty cliche. Now it was Call’s go.
“Well, the stars may change themselves, sure, but I like you the way you are.”
Aaron clearly hadn’t caught onto the game, not expecting Call’s reply. His face flushed red under the warm light. He looked kind of...cute. Tamara would be laughing her ass off at Call if she ever heard him say something was cute. He pushed that thought away and stared at Aaron. Your turn.
Aaron, however, was still reeling from Call’s last comment. “Really?” He asked.
Score 1-0 with Call in the lead. He gave Aaron a genuine smile.
“Of course. I wouldn’t have drank the hot chocolate otherwise.”
“W-well I like the way you are too, Call,” Aaron smiled. God, he really was like a puppy, so pure-hearted and genuine. What the hell was he doing around such a dreaded edgelord vampire like Call, anyways?
The thought stung Call. He had been over this a million times in his head, what with the whole vampire thing and all. He hadn’t consented to being turned--he was a baby, how could he?--so that still made him human by nature. Only the coldness of his body distinguished him from all those who bled and breathed.
“Call?” Aaron asked. Call snapped out of it. Aaron was staring at him with an odd look on his face.
“Yeah?” Call returned.
“Can I kiss you?”
Call hadn’t been expecting that .
“I-I…” Call stuttered out. Aaron suddenly looked nervous.
“W-we don’t have to,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, “I know it’s been a while since we last…you know.”
“Kissed?”
“I was going to say since we last hung out, but that too.” They both laughed nervously, then the room descended into tense silence again.
“I wouldn’t--” Call began, cutting himself off as he looked down at the hot chocolate in his hands. It had gone cool by now. “... mind . If you kissed me, I mean.”
This was so awkward. Call was so awkward. He took everything he had said before. This extra night at the academy was a curse. A worse curse than vampirism.
He had deigned to never look Aaron in the face again but suddenly he felt fingers brush his cheek and Aaron was there . In front of him. As in, right in front of him. He could feel the other boy’s light breath on his face and all he could think was he’s warm .
Then, Aaron was kissing him.
It was nothing like the first kiss. Or, at least, it was nothing like he remembered from it. Whereas the first was simple--a short and chaste peck on the lips--this one was longer and more packed with heat than the first. Not heat as in something sexual--Aaron didn’t really seem like the type--but heat that came with proximity and the strange warmth Call felt in his chest from it.
That was the jarring thing--the warmth.
Despite the coldness outside and despite the coldness that was Call , Aaron still managed to make everything warm. Call almost laughed against Aaron’s mouth. The psychic was the sun and Call was the melting ice, however cliche the thought sounded in his head.
After a moment, Aaron broke away.
“Call?” he asked, after realizing that Call was frozen in place (a coincidental turn of phrase). Call opened his eyes, though he wasn’t sure when exactly he had closed them.
“Yeah?”
“I--nothing. You just looked a little shocked there for a second.” Aaron’s face was red with a blush. Call figured he’d probably look much the same if he had any blood to blush with. He smiled at Aaron.
“You have that kind of effect.”
Aaron blushed harder, which was cute.
(Damn it, Tamara).
Aaron shifted around awkwardly. He was still leaning towards Call, like he was about to kiss him again. Call sincerely hoped that he would.
“Call?” Aaron asked after a moment.
“Hm?”
“Merry Christmas.”
Call grinned at him.
“Merry Christmas, Aaron.”
Snow continued to pelt the street in drifts outside of the window, but, at least for now, the Gallery was warm. More than that, Call was warm. Warmer than he’d felt in years--in his entire life . And it was all because of Aaron; that strange, elusive psychic who slipped in and out of the world like he held it by its threads.
Call, for one, was willing to see where the warmth led. There was only one pressing thought on his mind…
Did Aaron feel the same?