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It seems there’s a fine line between too much and not enough, and Callum always seems to be walking it.
The thought of not enough comes from just about as far back as he can remember. Of not being enough to love, not being enough to stay. It comes from memories of a voice without a face, and a suitcase at the door one night that was gone the next morning, along with every hope he had of a normal life. As much as maybe that’s not what she’d wished for her son, that’s what Callum’s mum had left being - just not enough.
Too much goes back to then, too, but surfaces more recently. It comes from being too loud, too clumsy, too stupid. Too much for anyone to want to be around, too much for anyone to really love. And too much comes back to now, back to the past few weeks.
He’s had people all through his life try to tell him otherwise and it’s a momentary relief, but people don’t see that not all wounds heal without a trace. Some leave a big ugly scar, and some still hurt sometimes, even years after they’ve healed.
Some days it’s okay. Some days it’s not. It’s just a truth of life, but that doesn’t make it any easier when Callum lies there, scared that he’s losing the best thing he’s ever been afforded in his life because of too much .
He’s blind to it at first.
Happiness like no other he’s ever had creates this haze over everything, and it shields him from too much or not enough for a while. It’s a haze created by a night that he’s sure he could never forget, and a promise or forever some part of him thought he’d never get to make and mean it. Ever since then this haze has been there, filling every waking moment with which flowers, and which colours, and which people.
Lexi doesn’t help. Or rather, she does, depending on how you look at it. She fuels it all with a youthful excitement that Callum misses (and is it possible to miss something you never really had?) and plays with Callum’s every thought and comment on it. Ben does sometimes too, watches from behind as him and Lexi sit on the sofa together and scroll through pictures of flowers, chipping in a God, they’re ugly or a how fucking much? every so often. It sparks this contentful feeling that winds itself in with the haze for a while, and makes everything a little more rose coloured.
Maybe he wakes up one morning and sees through it, and realises how much he’s been.
Ben’s jobs - they’re not a problem any more. Well, they are, but in a different way - he’s made peace with the fact that this is the man that he’s fallen in love with, but it doesn’t stop the worry that thrums through his chest every time Ben’s gone out on one and doesn’t come back when he’s supposed to. It shouldn’t bother him, because they’ve agreed. This is who Ben is, and they don’t have to agree to love each other - their love is worth more than that, is so much stronger than that.
So yeah- they don’t really bother Callum any more.
Except this is their wedding , and Ben seems to be out of the house more often than he’s in it at the minute. At first it makes sense, because they’ve come to realise that a wedding is a lot more expensive than either of them had really thought, especially when you’ve got Lexi for a daughter. Callum reminds himself that Ben’s just trying to do the best by the both of them, ensure that they’ve got enough for the wedding and the future .
It’s a morning after another night like that when Callum wakes up and sees it - the way he’s slipped back into way too much, and maybe that’s why Ben’s out so much instead, just to get a break of Callum asking him a question about the wedding every minute he’s awake. He’s just too polite to say it.
“You’re thinkin’ too loud,” Ben grumbles against Callum’s chest and it startles him out of the guilt that’s been settling into his stomach. His breath is warm and comforting as it sweeps across Callum’s skin, and he almost lets himself settle back into it.
“Babe?” Ben calls after a minute, sounding more awake now and concern tinges his voice.
“Sorry,” Callum replies, sweeping a fist in a couple of circles on the other side of his chest so that Ben’s half-lidded eyes can track the movement.
“Y’alright?” Ben says, and turns so that he can watch Callum’s lips and oh, the gentleness with which he does it makes his heart race.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Callum replies, and Ben’s eyebrows turn in in a little frown.
“You ain’t angry at me, are ya?” Ben asks. “‘Cause I got in late last night?”
“No, ‘course not,” Callum replies and maybe it’s a little too fast. “You had a job, didn’t ya?”
Ben nods, but the frown doesn’t slip away and Callum just wants to apologise over and over, for whatever it is that’s put that look on the other man’s face because he hates it when Ben looks like that. “What you thinkin’ about then?”
“It’s nothin’, really Ben,” he replies, but Ben doesn’t look like he believes any of it. Instead a hand reaches out to the bedside table and picks up his processor, which he then connects to his implant.
“Cal,” he says a minute later, shifting so that he’s sat with his back up against the headboard. “Is this about the jobs? My dad? You ain’t- you ain’t jealous, are you?”
“Jealous? ‘Course not, you’re just- working. There’s nothing wrong, Ben, really,” Callum replies, shifting so that they’re sat up opposite each other, so that Ben can still read his lips if he needs to.
“Please, just,” he starts, then sighs. “Please don’t lie to me.”
It’s the pleading tone to Ben’s voice that catches him off guard, tugs at something deep in his chest because somehow maybe he’s making this worse. He relents, because maybe an apology for how much he’s been over the past few weeks is what Ben’s looking for.
(If Callum was thinking straight, he’d know that was ridiculous because Ben loves him, and he’s been one of the only people that’s convinced him that he’s so much more than too much or not enough. But his mind is something that he just can’t turn off sometimes, and talking about it is another thing he seems hopeless at.)
“It’s just,” Callum starts, and he can’t bear to meet Ben’s eyes any more so he ends up watching the wall, eyes tracing cracks in the paint. “I’m sorry, have I been a bit- much? With- with the wedding? I know I keep asking you stuff, and you’ve got- more important stuff to deal with.”
The silence shouldn’t mean as much as it does, but tension burns in it. He can’t deal with staring ahead any more but he also can’t bear to look over to Ben’s face, terrified by what he’s going to find there so he ends up staring down at his hands, shaking and rubbing over each other in his lap.
“Cal-”
“It’s- it’s fine. I’ve uh- I’ve got work,” Callum says, and he hates to run away because it feels weak but he thinks he’s going to lose it, start begging if he stays any longer.
So he bolts, leaves Ben where he is, and there’s something deep in him that wonders if it feels like the last time.
When he finally steps through the door it feels like he’s awaiting trial. Ben’s texted him a few times in the day and sure, it feels like he’s delaying the inevitable but he’d replied at lunch with a simple working late, I’ll be back when I can x
Callum knows logically it’s stupid, but even the thought that maybe Ben’s had enough of him sends this pain right through his chest that makes him want to scream because he’s so close, he can’t lose this now.
Except the house is uncharacteristically quiet tonight, in a way that it never usually is, and there’s a bunch of flowers sitting in a vase on the table. Callum’s sure that Phil’s not bought them (he’s not exactly a flowers man) and he can’t imagine the man’s found himself a new conquest that would be bothered to fork out for flowers.
Callum steps forward and his footsteps echo a bit too loud in the silence, and he drops his jacket on the table. The flowers are beautiful, pink peonies ( yes , he knows what they are now, thanks to Lexi’s influence) accompanied by red-
roses.
Callum’s hopeless to stop the smile that creeps onto his face. A hand comes forward and the petals are soft between his fingers, and it’s such a strong memory - the best night of his life.
This couldn’t possibly be anyone else. God, it doesn’t feel like he deserves it but they’re here for him, and this man loves him more than he’s ever been loved before. It’s terrifying, and something that he definitely doesn’t know how to deal with but it feels like maybe he could start to feel like he deserves it, if only he gets to keep Ben by his side.
“Lexi approved. They’re the ones I want for the wedding.”
When he looks around, Ben’s watching him from the doorway, a soft look on his face. He’s dressed in his favourite hoodie - Callum’s grey running one and he’s not sure when it became his favourite, but it’s officially his favourite look on Ben - and soft black bottoms, and his hair’s loose and fluffy on his head.
“Ben, they’re- beautiful,” Callum whispers, because the emotion’s already reached his voice and he’s not sure he can say it any louder without cracking.
“Glad you approve,” he replies, stepping away from the wall and over to Callum. A hand snakes around his waist and pulls him close, and Ben presses a kiss to his shoulder. “Why’d you run off earlier?”
That embarrassment comes back threefold, because he’s not only brought it up now but there’s the added shame from running away the minute it got difficult. “I’m sorry, Ben. I’m so sorry, I just-”
“Hey, no. Stop apologising,” Ben says as he pulls away and his eyebrows raise, looking at Callum in that fake-stern way he often uses on Lexi. He’s quiet for a minute longer and his face changes again, back to this soft look from before except there’s soft concern in his eyes now too. “Cal. you are never too much. Especially not about this.”
“Ben-”
“Nope, no talking. My turn now,” Ben says and the fake stern is back for a second, before a little smile creeps onto his face instead. “Callum, I love you. Nothing is more important to me than you, and I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise.”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and shows the black screen to Callum. “Phone off, empty house. Dad’s out somewhere, Lexi’s with her mum. I’ve got takeout coming in half an hour, and you and I are gonna sit in that living room and look at table arrangements and tie colours ‘till our eyes bleed.”
“Ben, you- you don’t have to do that,” Callum replies, because regardless of everything it still feels like a little too much for him.
“I ain’t doing it ‘cause I have to, Cal. I’m doing it ‘cause there is nothing I’d rather do than spend my evening with my fiance, planning our wedding,” Ben says, and his hands slip onto Callum’s cheeks. “You are never too much for me, Callum Mitchell.”
The words thread warmth right into his blood and it races through him, warms right where his heart beats for the man that’s stood in front of him. “Mitchell, hey?”
Ben laughs and leans forward to press a kiss to Callum’s lips. It’s soft and slow and perfect, and it feels like they’ve got all the time in the world - and maybe they have.
“Always said I was gonna make a Mitchell out of you, didn’t I?”