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It’s only just the middle of the morning, though it feels like an age since they first woke up with the bright, rising sun in their eyes. They’re in the process of moving out into their own house, the first place that they can fully call theirs, and theirs alone. It’s been a week of constantly moving to and fro, and even though the new place isn’t entirely ready, everything they need is there. Today is the last day of moving things, and they’ve already taken heavy boxes across the square into the new place. Now though, their old room lays bare, apart from the bed and the wardrobe.
“Babe, we’re never moving again.” Ben shouts out, and there’s a laugh that floats from the bathroom all the way to the bedroom.
“This is the last of it now, I promise!” Callum calls out, and he pokes his head out of the door frame of the bathroom, a bright and beaming grin across his face.
Ben rolls his eyes, because Callum is still somehow so happy and not at all in pain. They’re polar opposites usually, but today is no exception to that trait. Ben is sluggishly tired, with every bone in his body aching and, not for the first time this week, he berates Callum. “I don’t know why we didn’t get a removal van. This would’ve all been done by now.” He says. “And I wouldn’t have a bad back. Don’t be expecting much sex for the next month!”
“Maybe that was my plan?” Callum teases and dodges out of the way of some old socks that come flying his way. “Anyway, it’s saving us money! You’re the one that suggested going on holiday next summer.”
Ben knows he can’t respond to that, because Callum’s right. He just didn’t factor in that they could potentially have to move everything across the square at the height of a heatwave the entire country seems to be having.
“Don’t forget to check under the bed.” Callum speaks again, wrapping a knot in the top of a rubbish bag. “I don’t think there’s anything there, but check just in case.”
A wince escapes Ben’s mouth as he gets on all fours, a cardboard box and a rubbish bag next to him, just in case there’s anything under there. “It’s weird.” He calls out. “Seeing this room so empty. It doesn’t feel like our little space anymore. If I’m honest, I don’t think it’s ever been this empty.” He’s rambling, but he doesn’t care. This is what they’ve done all week, talk about nothing important, occasionally singing along to the radio, as they move everything from one place to the other. He taps his hand across the floor as he speaks and he can’t feel anything. He’s just about to pull his hand free, but his knuckles raps against something. Ben furrows his eyebrows as his words die out and he pulls the object free from under the bed.
It’s a shoe box. A tatty one at that, with all the edges fraying like it’s been near water at some point. There’s indentation marks over it, folds and creases and it’s clearly old. But the main thing is, Ben recognises it. He recognises it from Callum’s bedroom, the first one they ever unofficially shared together, back in his old flat.
Ben moves, sitting on the floor, his legs stretching out in front of him and his back is against the bed. The lid of the box is half sliding off, clearly not the right size for it, but this means that Ben can see inside of it. There’s something of a khaki green colour sitting inside. There’s half a moment of silence as he blanks everything else out, the radio turning to just a low buzzing sound, easy to forget about. He takes the lid off, putting it on the floor at the side of him, and he can see what the item is properly. A beret. He smiles fondly, thinking it must be Callum’s, though he’s never actually seen any photos of Callum in the army before, so he can’t be certain. His finger runs over something of a different material, something more coarse. He turns the beret upside down to see what it is, and catches the name tag inside. Chris Kennedy.
It hits him suddenly, what this box must be. He’s heard about Chris before, but not in detail. He’s never even seen a photo of him. But this must be a place of memories for Callum, and when he looks into it again, he can just about make out some photos and pieces of paper with scrawling handwriting on before the silence dissipates and there’s a dry cough that bursts out from near him.
Ben looks up, inspecting the noise, but he knew before looking what it was. He sees Callum standing in the door frame with a sad smile across his face.
“I’m sorry.” Ben whispers, holding his hand out for Callum to take.
Callum smiles softly, and takes two steps towards Ben before he reaches out for his hand, entwining their fingers together in a perfect and comforting hold. “It’s fine.” He breathes out and sits down next to Ben, their thighs pressing against one another. “I still think about him, you know? Not all the time, not anymore. But when it’s his birthday or I remember something from the army, I think about him.”
Ben’s silent for a moment or two, because he knows exactly what Callum’s talking about. “Callum.” He lets out softly, before he’s even thought of what he really wants to say. “You know you can talk to me about him, right? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t.”
Callum turns his face, looking at Ben. He nods, and is just about to speak when Ben continues.
“I’m sorry.” He repeats for the second time in as many minutes.
Callum furrows his eyebrows, because Ben has nothing to apologise for. He squeezes Ben’s hand tightly for a moment, and then when he releases that pressure, he runs his thumb softly over Ben’s skin. “What for?” He asks.
Ben’s looking down at their hands when Callum speaks. He looks up slowly. “I told you that you didn’t know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”
That just breaks Callum’s heart.
After all this time, after everything they’ve been through, Ben still remembers that moment.
Callum doesn’t even have to think, his body just moves for him. He hugs Ben as if there’s no tomorrow, all warm and inviting and it’s clearly what they both need. Callum just holds on, and Ben holds on even tighter, neither of them wanting to let go. Callum can feel Ben’s heart beating under the touch, a rhythmic thumping that soothes him. He presses a kiss to Ben’s shoulder, and buries his nose into Ben’s neck, the familiar scent of nature and spice hitting him all at once.
“Did I see a photo of you in the box?” Ben asks.
Callum lets out a soft chuckle. “I think there are some, yeah.”
Ben peels away from the hug, desperate to find them. “Can I?” He asks, hands hovering over the box, watching Callum carefully.
Callum nods. “Go on.”
Ben picks out a photo. It’s got creases in the corner where it’s been folded in the past. “Is this Chris?” Ben asks.
Callum smiles softly. “Yeah.” He says, looking at the photo. It’s Chris, sitting at a table, his feet up on the surface and his arms across his body. “I think that was the last Christmas before I came here. We had to cook so much that day, I reckon the next time I cook Christmas dinner it’ll be so much easier, even if you’ve got a huge family.”
Ben chuckles to himself. “He’s handsome, ain’t he?” He asks, looking up at Callum.
“You approve?” Callum asks, raising a teasing eyebrow. “He was, yeah.”
Ben places the photo back down gently, and in doing that, he finds another photo hidden away.
Callum eyes go comically wide as Ben pulls it free. “Oh God.” He lets out under his breath, but Ben catches it.
“Nice hair.” Ben chuckles out, running his thumb over the picture. It’s Callum in his army fatigues, arms behind his back, standing up pin straight with a cheeky grin on his face. It’d be a nice picture, if his hair didn’t look like that. “No wonder you don’t show me photos from before I met you.”
Callum rolls his eyes and pushes Ben teasingly.
Yeah, he misses Chris, and he probably always will. He’ll never forget him, or the journey that they had together. But this, right here, is perfect. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, and so much more.