Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Everyone, this is Ashton,” Calum says, as Ashton raises a hand in a humble wave. “Ashton, my family.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Ashton,” says Calum’s mum. Ashton holds out a hand to shake but Calum’s mum, predictably, bypasses it completely and offers him a hug. If this surprises Ashton, he hides it well. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“A lot," Mali contributes. Calum makes a face at her and Mali makes one back. “Are you aware that your boyfriend is obsessed with you?”

“I should hope so,” Ashton says easily, as Calum’s mum pulls away. His dad offers a handshake and Ashton, smiling a little, accepts.

Calum swallows and says, “Thanks so much, Mali, I really appreciate you putting me on blast like that.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” Mali says sweetly. “Cal, I’m stealing you for a second. Be right back.”

She grabs Calum’s wrist and Calum follows obediently, shooting a nervous glance over his shoulder at Ashton as he goes. There’s no reason to worry; Ashton is already charming Calum’s parents’ socks off. He’s too likable for his own good, in Calum’s opinion, but today it’s a weight off Calum’s shoulders.

Mali pulls him into her room and instructs him to close the door behind him, which Calum does. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“Is everything okay? ” Mali repeats incredulously. She laughs. “Calum, are you really trying to tell me you’ve had a boyfriend for two months and you didn’t tell me?  Because that’s what you’re asking me to believe right now.”

Calum’s heart skips a beat. “What? Do you not like Ashton?”

“Are you kidding me? I love Ashton. I know everything about him because you talk about him all the time. And if at some point he had actually become your boyfriend, there is no fucking way you wouldn’t have shared that information with me.” Mali levels a stare at him. “What’s going on, dude?”

“Wait, what?”

Ashton’s on the floor, but his attention, occupied only moments prior by the half-written essay on his laptop, is now entirely on Calum. Calum rolls his shoulders uncomfortably. He’s been sitting on his bed, pretending to write an essay of his own while in reality working up the courage to say this very casual thing, which he has now said.

“My parents think you’re my boyfriend,” Calum repeats, point-blank.

“No, I heard you the first time,” Ashton says, shaking his head. “Why the fuck would they think that?”

Well, for starters because Calum talks about Ashton every opportunity he gets. And he may have mentioned finding Ashton cute to his parents at the beginning of the school year, an act he will now regret for eternity. And when he talked to his mum on the phone yesterday, and she asked him how the boyfriend search was going, Calum, in a last-ditch effort to avoid receiving this question for the rest of forever, may have told her that the boyfriend search was indefinitely postponed. 

Calum’s mum may have taken that to mean that Calum had a boyfriend. And she may have assumed that boyfriend was Ashton, the only boy of whom Calum had made any noticeable mention for the entire year.

And Calum may not have bothered correcting her.

“It’s complicated,” Calum says. “Okay, it’s really not complicated. I’ve mentioned you to my parents because, obviously, we hang out a lot, and then when my mum asked if I had a boyfriend I said I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend anymore because, you know, I was hoping she’d stop asking, and then she put two very wrong puzzle pieces together and assumed I wasn’t looking anymore because I found one and the boyfriend was you. So. It’s like medium complicated, I would say.”

Ashton makes a familiar face — an eyeroll with a smile, the one that makes an appearance whenever Calum has some outlandish plan he’s trying to persuade Ashton to join him in enacting. It’s a face that means he thinks it’s ridiculous but he’ll go along with it anyway.

“Any particular reason you’re sharing this with me?”

“Yes!” Calum says, and pretends like this is not a weird question so that it won’t sound weird when he asks it. “Will you do me the biggest favor in the world and lie to my parents and sister about being my boyfriend so that I can bring you to dinner and make them think I’m doing super well at college?”

“You are doing super well at college,” Ashton says. He’s grinning. Calum’s heart does a double backflip. “You even found a boyfriend and everything.”

“Okay, pump the brakes,” Calum says. “We’re not at dinner yet. ”

“I’m practicing!” Ashton replies. “But yes, I’ll be your fake boyfriend. Parents love me.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me at all,” Calum says. “But really, are you sure? You don’t have to.”

“No, it’ll be fun,” Ashton says. “Theatre major, remember? It’ll just be like a fun acting exercise.”

A fun acting exercise. Cool. That won’t fuck with Calum’s head at all.

“True,” Calum says. “And as the rebellious kid” — Ashton bursts out laughing — “I’m obviously well-versed in lying to my parents, so this will go great.” He grins. “Hey, stop laughing. I can be rebellious.”

“Yeah, you’re a real danger to society,” Ashton snickers, pushing his hair out of his face. The unkempt look shouldn’t be so pretty, but it is, of course. Ashton makes everything pretty. Even the rags they’d dressed him in when they’d cast him as Quasimodo for the fall production of The Hunchback of Notre Dame , although the costume and makeup crew had done their level best to make him unattractive.

It’s not Ashton’s fault that he shines like every spotlight in the theatre is pointed at him. That’s just how he is.

“I could be a danger to society,” Calum says. “I’m threatening.”

Ashton gives Calum a once-over and bursts out laughing again, which is just rude.

“Hey, fuck you,” says Calum, despite the fact that he, too, is laughing. Ashton has a contagious laugh, and it is pretty funny, imagining Calum as a danger to anyone. The most dangerous behavior Calum engages in is eating spicy Doritos for dinner three times a week.

"So when is dinner?" Ashton asks.

“Friday?” Calum hazards. “Your project is due on Wednesday, right?”

“Yay, thank you for the reminder,” Ashton says monotonously. He sighs. “Yeah, Friday works. I’ll just be sitting around in agonizing wait to hear back from CalArts.”

“Relax,” Calum says. “We both know you’re gonna get in. They’re gonna see your headshot and nothing else is even gonna matter.”

Ashton laughs, and it has a nervous edge, the way it always does when the topic of the California Institute of the Arts — Ashton’s dream acting school — is brought up. “I hope so. No, I don’t hope so. Then I’ll get there and realize everyone’s way more talented than me.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Calum kicks his leg out to get the sentiment across of kicking Ashton. “Stop talking about my friend like that, you shithead. Ashton Irwin is a skilled actor, phenomenal singer, and he plays like three instruments, which makes him an invaluable asset to any acting school. And he’s a sexy motherfucker.”

“There is that,” Ashton says, inclining his head and laughing again. This time he sounds less nervous. Calum grins. “Okay. I’m not worrying about it. I’m not! I’m excited to meet your family. Is your sister gonna be there? I really want to meet her.”

Calum sighs. Mali will certainly want to meet Ashton, too, but Calum is worried she'll see right through him, no matter how good of a show Ashton puts on. He and Mali tell each other everything. For him to get a boyfriend and not tell her would be outrageous.

Then again, Calum has a pretty good track record of honesty, so maybe Mali will just trust him. Maybe Calum's reputation of telling his family the truth will carry him through this pretty unbelievable lie.

"Probably," he says. "She goes to school like half an hour from home, and I know she's dying to meet you."

Ashton seems delighted. “Really! Yay," he quietly cheers. His attention drifts back to his essay, and he groans. "I'm bored of this. Can I be done? Have you made any progress?"

"Of course not," Calum says. "You wanna watch something?"

"Read my mind," Ashton says, staggering off the floor and onto Calum's bed with him. "I hate English."

"I know," Calum says sympathetically. Ashton's shoulder presses right up against Calum's. Calum wonders if he knows he's doing it, if he thinks he's doing anything, or if he's completely oblivious to the effect he has on Calum. If he knows that he's responsible for the many deep breaths Calum takes in a day. 

"Gilmore Girls?" Ashton prompts when Calum doesn't immediately pull it up.

"Yeah, sorry." The gears in Calum's brain kick on again, spurring him into action to open up Gilmore Girls from where they stopped. It’s Ashton’s comfort show and he’d gotten Calum hooked on it, and now it's their default method of procrastination. The writing could use some work — any show from the 2000s could — but Calum doesn't watch for the plot, anyway.  

As the episode starts, Calum remains hyper-aware of Ashton's shoulder against his. And when Ashton leans his head on Calum's shoulder halfway through, Calum basically fails to register the rest of the episode.

“Okay,” Calum says, grimacing. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Mali makes a complex noise of triumph and disappointment all in one. “What the fuck are you doing, man? What’s your move here? Does he know you’re pretty much in love with him?”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Calum hisses. “So don’t tell him. You think he’d pretend to be my boyfriend if he knew I was pretending it was real? How lame is that?”

“Christ, Cal,” Mali says, shaking her head. “I always wondered when you’d enter the making-stupid-decisions phase of your life, but I never thought this would be the stupid decision.”

“This is not a stupid decision,” Calum insists. “It’s a harmless one. Victimless crime. He’s already my best friend, it’s not like he has to do that much pretending. And Mali, I’m begging you, please don’t blow this for me, it’ll be the most embarrassing thing ever if you do.”

“Why the fuck is this even happening? Why wouldn’t you just tell mum and dad the truth?”

“Are you kidding me?” Calum rolls his eyes. “You think I didn’t try? Mum jumped to conclusions. You know how she is.”

Mali sighs. “Yeah. I do.” She meets Calum’s eyes and Calum immediately looks away. It’s not exactly that he’s embarrassed — very little embarrasses Calum anymore when it comes to Mali — but he’s not super proud. This is a pretty pathetic move, whatever he might say to Mali. Everyone knows you don’t enlist the guy you’re crushing hard on to be your pretend boyfriend and meet your family. 

Then again, he hadn’t been left with much choice. And like he’d said to Mali, it’s a victimless crime. They’ll play the parts, convince Calum’s parents, and then in a few weeks — maybe just as the semester is ending, so Ashton can conveniently disappear from the picture — Calum will say they broke up. Easy. No one gets hurt.

“Just please don’t tell mum and dad,” he says to Mali. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t spiral out of control or anything.”

Mali gives him a look. “This is a dumb plan,” she says. “Are you sure you can handle the boy you have real feelings for only pretending to return them?”

“I’ll be fine,” Calum says. “Don’t worry about me. Just act normal. Act like you believe he’s my boyfriend.”

Mali gives a world-weary sigh. “Every day I wonder how the idiot genes skipped me and went straight to you.”

“Hey!”

“Fine, I’m not gonna blow your cover.” Mali crosses her arms. “You try to act like you’re not gonna combust anytime Ashton does something completely normal, okay?”

Calum laughs sarcastically. “Please,” he says. “When have I ever done that?” 

Ashton’s knee is touching Calum’s under the table and Calum is genuinely going to combust.

“Ashton, you’re studying acting, is that right?” asks Calum’s mum. Ashton nods. Calum’s mum laughs. “I feel like I already know you. Calum’s basically told us everything but your credit card number.”

“Well, it’s only a matter of time,” Ashton says. 

“If you’re ever notified about a purchase of six new houseplants, you’ll know mum’s gotten it out of him,” Mali says drily. Everyone laughs, Calum grinning. It feels good to be back at home. He’s never far, but he always misses it when he’s away. And he misses Mali most of all, though he’d never tell his parents that. She’s as much a part of him as his heart and the bones under his skin. He thinks she misses him just as much, even if she’s not quite as vocal about it. 

Over the table, they lock eyes. Mali’s eyes crinkle at the corners the same way Calum’s do. Calum smiles wide and kicks her foot under the table.

His knee brushes Ashton’s as he moves his leg, and reality bodyslams him. Oh yeah. Ashton’s knee is touching his. It has been touching his for at least ten minutes. Calum’s dangerously close to a real heart attack.

“You’re graduating this year, aren’t you?” adds Calum’s dad. Ashton nods again. “How does that feel?”

“Honestly, doesn’t feel real,” Ashton says, with a little self-conscious laugh. “I feel like I’ve been at uni forever. I don’t think it’s gonna hit me for a while.”

“Feel you there,” Mali says. “I’m in my last year of grad school and it still hasn’t hit me that I finished my undergrad."

"Exactly," Ashton says. "What was it you studied again?"

"I double-majored in Gender and Women's Studies and English," Mali says. "And I'm getting a master's in Secondary Education."

Ashton whistles. Calum grins. Every time she says that he feels how cool Mali is just a little more. "That sounds like a lot of work."

"You know, it really is," Mali says. "Do you have grad school plans? I think Calum mentioned something about acting school."

"You could make it seem like we don't just talk about Ashton," Calum says. 

Everyone laughs again, including Ashton, who says, "Don't worry, I’m sure my family has heard the same amount about you, Cal,” and before Calum can figure out if he's being serious or not, Ashton has launched into his elevator pitch spiel about how great CalArts is. His left hand pats Calum's knee and then curves around and kind of just stays there, and Calum focuses on his brain not literally exploding. If not for the fact that he's heard this speech a thousand times, he's sure he wouldn't have a clue what the fuck they're talking about anymore.

It's not like anyone can see Ashton's hand on Calum's knee. This gesture doesn't prove anything to anyone, not really. There's no reason for Ashton to be touching Calum like this, especially not after Calum promised him that his family wouldn't be expecting showy romance and PDA when that's so far from his style. It is far from his style, but what Ashton's doing here isn't showy, and it isn't PDA.

It's just a quiet gesture between him and Calum. For what reason, Calum can't (or shouldn't) begin to fathom.

"CalArts is pretty far," Calum's mum muses.

Ashton huffs a laugh. "Yeah, I know. It's a distant dream, but I think it's good to have goals."

"Oh my God, would you stop?" Calum says, mostly for show. He glances up at his family and then gives a wry look to Ashton. "You are exactly the kind of person CalArts wants, so stop talking yourself down. You're gonna get in. Trust me. I have a sixth sense for this kind of thing."

"Yeah, okay," Ashton says. To Calum's parents: "Can't bring it up anymore without getting some overly supportive comment from this one." And he jerks a thumb at Calum. 

Calum scoffs in mock-offense. Before he can leap to his own defense, Mali grins and chimes in. "Sorry, Ashton, but that's what you get for dating a Hallmark card. Calum's weapon of choice is inspirational one-liners."

"Excuse me," Calum says as Ashton laughs. "My weapon of choice is kindness."

Mali breaks into laughter, which seems a little bit uncalled for, and Calum's parents both chuckle. "Isn't that what I said?"

"You said inspirational one-liners like they're empty words," Calum insists. "But I really mean it. You've never seen Ashton on a stage. Trust me, if anyone deserves to get into CalArts, it's him. He's got the talent and the work ethic and the drive and a genuinely good heart—"

"Calum," Ashton says.

"No, I'm serious!" Calum turns on Ashton, who's watching him curiously. Mali's done laughing, and suddenly Calum is aware of how he must sound. Slightly sheepish, he concludes, "I'm just saying, you deserve it and you'll get it. You might as well believe that. There's no harm in believing in yourself."

Ashton breathes a laugh and shakes his head. The hand resting on Calum's knee moves unexpectedly to brush knuckles against Calum's face, and as Calum loses all capacity for breathing, Ashton smiles.

"Okay, truce," he allows, dropping his hand to his lap and turning back to the table. Calum's heart machine-guns around his chest.

"You should never try to stand alone against Calum's faith in people," Mali says, although she sounds pretty far away to Calum, who is still very much in the processing stage of whatever the fuck just happened. Of Ashton's fingers smoothing over Calum's cheek like smudging paint. "You'll always lose. He's stubborn as hell."

"He gets that from his mother," Calum's dad contributes. 

There's laughter. Calum manages to shake himself free of his paralysis enough to laugh with everyone, and his consciousness rejoins the table.

Just in time for Mali to say, “So how did you two end up together? I don’t think I’ve heard the full story. The way Calum tells it he makes himself sound really smooth, and I know that can’t be right.”

Mali is evil. Mali should be in prison. Calum is going to put Nair in Mali’s shampoo. 

Honestly, he asks one thing from her. Thankfully Ashton jumps in before Calum can flip Mali off. “Well, we met at a party my housemates were throwing. Some English department thing Calum got dragged to. I didn’t want any part of it, so I was holed up in my room, and then I went to the bathroom and when I came back there was a guy inexplicably in my room.” Ashton nods in Calum’s direction. This part is all true: Calum had been seeking refuge. He’d expected an English department party to be low-key, and that had apparently been the wrong expectation. Parties are not his scene. This surprises no one who meets him, ever. “He started apologizing, of course, and I said it was okay, of course, and we got to talking and realized we were in the same psych class, and honestly the rest is history.”

“That doesn’t tell me how you got together,” Mali says, raising an eyebrow specifically at Calum, who resists the urge to stick his tongue out at her. “I mean, keep it PG, but we all want the story.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard the story, actually,” Calum’s mum says. “David, have you?”

Calum’s dad shakes his head. “I figured it was just too embarrassing for Calum to share. But Ashton, feel free to embarrass him. Those are our favorite kinds of stories.”

Calum hates his entire family.

The problem is, they don’t really have a getting-together story, because they aren’t together. Roughly two months ago is as far as Calum had gotten. Maybe they should have discussed it beforehand, but they hadn’t, and now Calum is stuck. He doesn’t feel good lying to his family more, but he doesn’t really have another option.

He opens his mouth to make some kind of protest, though he’s not sure how he could possibly discourage his family from this line of questioning, but once more Ashton beats him to it. “It was just one of those things, you know? I mean, I liked him right away, because— how could I not, and we were friends for a while, and then Calum told me he’d gotten asked out by someone in his class and I got a little, uh, I guess jealous is the word? And decided it wasn’t worth losing this opportunity just because I was scared to take the risk. So I told him how I felt, and…” He leans into Calum, shoulders knocking together, and shoots a passing glance to Calum before looking back at Mali. “And yeah. Turned out to be the right move.”

Calum finds himself speechless. Part of this is true, too. Someone in Calum’s Victorian Lit class had asked him on a date a few months back, and Calum had stammered his way through an apologetic rejection. He remembers relaying the exchange to Ashton later, leaving out the part where he’d said no on account of being in love with his best friend. But the rest of Ashton’s story must be made up. Impressively invented on the spot, but surely a lie. 

Mali has a disbelieving smile on her face. “Well, I’m disappointed that the story doesn’t make Calum look worse, but—”

“What is with all the harassment! Is this revenge for something? Do you have some beef with me you’re choosing to air now?” Calum says loudly.  

Mali snickers. “It’s a cute story, I was gonna say! Very cute. I’m just teasing, man. Ashton, I can tell you really care about Calum, which is what’s important to me. You officially have my stamp of approval.”

“Oh, God, was all of that part of earning it?” Ashton’s voice pitches in phony distress. “If I had known I was being tested I would have made myself sound way cooler in the story.”

“You already had our stamp of approval,” Calum’s dad says. “Or at least you had mine. I don’t want to speak for both of us.”

“Keep working at it,” Calum’s mum deadpans. Cue more laughter. The part of Calum that isn’t spinning out of control like a car on ice at Ashton’s story is relieved that his family like Ashton. 

Of course it’s a double-edged sword, because eventually he’s going to need to tell them that they broke up. He can’t fake-date Ashton forever. Somehow he’ll have to explain to his family why he and Ashton will have broken up in a way that doesn’t paint either of them in a bad light, which will be a super fun thing to figure out. The more Calum thinks about it, the worse it feels, actually.

That has to be a problem for later, though, because Calum has to be part of the lie now. He pulls himself out of his head to hear his mum say, “By the way, Calum, you’ll have to make the guest room bed, we didn’t get a chance to do it before you got here.”

Calum blinks. “Guest room bed? Why can’t we just sleep in my room?”

“Because you have a twin bed, you idiot,” Mali says, raising an eyebrow. Calum decides she’s at the top of his hit list. “Are you really gonna make your boyfriend sleep on the floor?”

Fuck. Wait. Fuck. “Oh,” Calum says.  “So we’re sharing the guest room bed. Got it. Makes sense. Yeah. That’s fine. We’ll make the bed. Don’t worry about it. Thanks.”

“And we were thinking about watching a movie tonight,” Calum's dad says. "Is that something either of you would be interested in?”

Ashton looks at Calum, who rearranges his features so he doesn't look like he's spiraling out of control. They have some kind of unspoken exchange that ends in Ashton nodding and Calum nodding back, and then Calum says, "Yeah, sure. Why don't you guys choose something while we clean up from dinner?"

"Absolutely not," says Calum's mum. "I'm not putting your wonderful boyfriend to work."

"Now Calum, on the other hand," Mali says, grinning.

"I don't mind, honestly, I'd love to help," says Ashton.

"Stop it, they gave you a free out," Calum stage-whispers. 

Calum's mum laughs. "No, Ashton, as much as I appreciate the offer, I could not in good faith let you wash dishes in my home." She smiles. "Yet."

"Yeah, just give it a month or two," Mali says. "Come back three more times and they'll have you mopping the floors."

"I'll do the dishes and Ashton will keep me company," Calum says firmly. "How about that?"

"I can help," Mali says, maybe because she hates Calum and wants him to suffer. "Mum and dad, you guys can pick a movie."

"I can make popcorn?" Ashton offers. Slowly everyone rises from their seats and begins to stack plates and clear the table. "I can't just sit here and take advantage of your hospitality, Mrs. Hood. Let me help."

"Please, it's Joy," says Calum's mum. "Joy and David, honey. Listen, I'll turn a blind eye and Calum can point you in any direction he likes, how is that?"

"Great idea," Calum declares. "Bye mum, bye dad, see you in twenty minutes."

He ushers his parents out of the kitchen without ceremony. When they've gone, he turns back to Ashton, who's watching with a smile.

"Popcorn is here," Calum instructs him, pointing at a cabinet. "Get to work."

"Yes sir," says Ashton with a small grin.

"You," Calum continues, pointing at Mali and then at the sink. "You're on dish-drying duty."

All the lights are off. Only the TV screen, illuminated with people playing characters, provides any indication that there is life in this darkened room. Calum's head is on Ashton's chest and he can hear Ashton's heart except it might be his own heart he's hearing because the heartbeat in his ears is fast. Much faster than normal.

It's been racing since Ashton had offered this position to Calum and Calum had had absolutely no reason to refuse. Especially with his parents right there on the other end of the couch — it would've been strange. Suspicious. So now Calum is cuddled up to Ashton's side and he can't figure out why Ashton's heart is beating like it's trying to win a marathon. He's trying so hard not to think it's the most obvious explanation, because as certain as he is that the heartbeat isn't related to Calum himself, the less rational part of him wants it so bad. It could be, he's telling himself. It just might be. You never know.

Calum fights that voice with all his power. Ashton has been putting on a show since he got here. That's good enough reason to feel nervous, to have an irregular pulse or whatever.

Calum sighs. He adjusts his position because his neck is starting to hurt, and Ashton brushes his thumb against Calum's shoulder absentmindedly. People talk in low voices on the TV. Calum’s family had gotten three quarters of the way through a Hunger Games movie marathon over winter break before Calum had had to head back to school, so, with Ashton’s permission, they’re now watching the fourth and final installment, part two of Mockingjay. His parents do, in fact, have the consumerist taste of thirteen-year-olds, but Ashton had seemed amused by this, and had insisted he didn’t mind, given “I’ve seen all the movies already and I really like them, so don’t even worry about it.”

Calum would love to pay attention to the movie, but unfortunately his mind is wandering without his consent.

There’s nothing to stop Calum from reflecting on this Ashton-related decision right now. He wishes he could blame Mali for forcing Ashton to come up with some fictional backstory for their relationship, but it’s really Calum’s fault for putting them in this position in the first place. He just wishes Ashton would have made something up from scratch, rather than taking pieces of the truth and building a lie around them. 

It’s making it that much harder for Calum to convince himself that it had been a lie.

Ashton's an actor. A really, really good actor. Part of what makes him so good is that when he pretends, people believe it. And Calum should know better. He's been behind the scenes, heard Ashton going over lines and rehearsing songs, practicing his music, marking beats in his script. You're not supposed to fall for the magic trick after you've seen how it's done.

And yet. 

Despite all that Calum knows about Ashton — despite all the times he's seen Ashton break character mid-scene, or ask for his next line, or have to restart because the blocking changed and he's still doing the old blocking — Calum finds himself an audience member once again, hoodwinked by Ashton's compelling display. At the end of the day, Calum is in an uncomfortably-cushioned, wood-backed folding seat, surrounded on all sides by family members who have never even heard of this play — and Calum has seen the play before and he knows how it ends and he's still completely fooled. It's a play. It's a show. It's not real. But Calum wants it to be.

Ashton pulls Calum closer and leans his head on top of Calum’s. Calum doesn’t protest. He might as well enjoy it while he’s got it.

Real or not real?  says Peeta, and Katniss says real, but she’s wrong. This isn’t real. This is a made-up relationship and Calum is just in too deep. They’re not together and they’re not in love and none of this is real.

"This is real," Mali tells him.

Their psychic sibling bond thing is getting too strong. 

“I’m fucking mad at you,” Calum says flatly. Ashton is in the guest room putting the sheets on the bed, a task that no man should have to conquer alone. Calum feels badly leaving him, but Mali hadn’t really given him a choice when she’d appeared to pull him into her room for a chat a moment prior.

“Don’t care,” Mali says. “I’m telling you, dude, Ashton has feelings for you. Real ones, not pretend ones.”

“Oh my God,” Calum says, groaning and rolling his eyes. “Leave me alone, I swear to God.”

“Calum, open your fucking eyes! Read the fucking signs! That boy has been telegraphing how much he likes you and you have just been too fucking dense to realize it, you fucking moron.”

“Lay the fuck off!” Calum snaps. “You have no fucking idea! You meet him once and you think you can read him like a book? He’s a fucking actor, Mali. Of course you’re convinced.”

“Jesus, I get it, you’re pissed off,” Mali says, rolling her eyes. “But stop being a stubborn little shit for ten seconds and just humor me. Humor me, man.”

Calum crosses his arms. “You didn’t have to put us on the spot like that. I specifically told you not to blow this for us. I literally asked you for one thing.”

“Which I listened to!” The problem with Mali is that she got exactly the same stubborn genes that Calum got. “I didn’t blow it for you. Because in case you missed it, Ashton had a whole story conveniently lined up about how he’s liked you since he met you and he got jealous when someone else asked you out.”

“Yeah, and then told me he had feelings for me and we went riding off into the sunset,” Calum retorts. “Which obviously didn’t fucking happen, because it’s not true. Because none of that was true.”

“Yeah? None of it was true? Really?”

Fuck’s sake. “The part about someone asking me out is true,” Calum huffs. “But that’s literally it. The stuff about him being jealous and all, that’s made up. Because if it were true, then we wouldn’t be pretending to date right now, because we would be really dating! But we’re not! Because it’s not true, Mali! This is a fake relationship!”

“Calm down,” Mali says, and Calum presses his lips together in mild panic. His parents have already gone to sleep and there are two closed doors between them and Ashton, so probably nobody can hear this conversation, but Calum really should be more careful. “I’m trying to say that it sounded like he wanted it to be true. And I saw you guys during the movie. I know he’s an actor, but he’s also a person. I don’t think it’s unrealistic to think he actually does like you. I mean, really,” she adds, crossing her arms in a mirror image of Calum’s stance. “If you were pretending to date a friend, you think you’d act the way Ashton is acting? You’d go that far? When you got asked how you got together, you’d tell a story that was mostly true?”

Calum sets his jaw. “Stop it,” he says. “Stop getting in my head about this. We’re friends. And I’m still mad at you.”

“And I still don’t care,” Mali says, rolling her eyes again. “I know you’re gonna be stubborn about this because that’s how you are, and I know you don’t want to read into anything because you’re scared of getting it wrong, but can I please give you some advice, wise older sister to naive younger brother?”

Calum sighs deeply, dramatically. “Fine,” he grumbles.

“Try reading into it,” Mali says. Her voice has gone softer. It’s hard to be mad at her when she’s so clearly not mad at him back. “Just this once. Read into it a little and see what happens. You have a million good qualities, Calum. There’s no reason Ashton wouldn’t like you. Just believe me that I can tell that he likes you. And honestly, tell him how you feel.” She quirks a smile. “Worst case scenario you get bitterly rejected and he’s moving across the country for acting school in a couple months anyway.”

Calum swallows. “Thanks, I’d just managed to forget about that.”

“Hey, you don’t know he’s going. He might not get in.”

Calum sighs. He also quirks a smile. “I’m probably not gonna do what you said.”

“I know,” Mali says airily. She holds out her arms and Calum obediently hugs her. “But it’s kinda my job to push you.”

“Yeah, push me to do things I wouldn’t normally do,” Calum mutters. “Not push me over the edge.”

Mali laughs as she pulls away, and she spins him by his shoulders. “Have fun sharing a bed with your fake boyfriend,” she says brightly, and pushes him once more, this time out the door.

The bed is beautifully made, blanket folded over at the head. Ashton is coming out of the guest room bathroom as Calum comes back in, dressed in sleep clothes from his detour to his own room.

“Damn,” says Calum. “Have you considered a career in housekeeping?”

“If the acting thing doesn’t pan out, I’ll keep it in mind,” Ashton says, stepping past Calum and seating himself at the foot of the bed. “Actually, I might end up there anyway. That’s a joke. No aggressive ego boost needed.”

Calum snorts. “If you don’t want me to hype you up, just say so.”

“No, I love it.” Ashton smiles. “Seriously. I appreciate it. By all means, keep doing it. Besides, I’m convinced you’re putting real energy into the world that is going to legitimately affect the course of the universe and I’m hoping it will come in the form of an acceptance letter.”

Calum stares at him. “Uh, okay. Geek.”

Ashton laughs and Calum laughs with him.

“So…” Calum chews his lip. “Do you like my family?”

“Are you kidding?” Ashton grins. “They’re awesome. I love them. Your sister’s great.”

“She—” Calum sighs and smiles. “I’m glad. They really like you.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” Ashton says. “Do you think they’re convinced?”

“Convinced?”

“That we’re together,” Ashton says. Duh. “I mean, there’s no reason they wouldn’t believe you, right?”

“Yeah,” Calum says. “Sorry about this, by the way.” He gestures at the bed.

Ashton frowns like it’s not really clicking. “About…the bed?”

“About having to share a bed with me,” Calum says. “I can just go sleep in my bed if you—”

“What? No, Calum, it’s fine,” Ashton interrupts. “Unless you care.”

“I don’t.”

“Great, me neither! Which side do you want?”

Calum hesitates at length. “I don’t care,” he finally says. 

Ashton looks like he’s deeply pondering this question before finally crawling onto the left side, leaving the side closest to the door for Calum to take.

“Are you suggesting you’d rather I die first if a serial killer breaks in?” Calum demands as he, too, crawls into bed. Immediately after doing so he remembers the light and sighs deeply.

Like he’s reading Calum’s mind, Ashton says, “I’ll get the light,” doing a weird roll until his feet are planted on the floor. Before Calum can say anything, Ashton has already crossed the room and flicked the light off. “And yes, that was my exact thought process.”

“That’s fucking rude.”

“You’re more athletic than me. You’d stand a chance. I, on the other hand, would be instantly killed without a fight.”

“So you’re basically using me as a human shield.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“Well,” Calum says. “I’d protect you.”

“I’m counting on it,” says Ashton, and he flops back onto the bed, sneaking under the covers, and without warning rests his head on Calum’s chest. 

Calum freezes.

Time freezes.

Ashton doesn’t seem to notice, only shifts around, lifting his head and putting it back down until he’s apparently comfortable. All of Calum's mental processes kick into overdrive. Now it's his heartbeat that's speeding up beyond belief, and the way Ashton is situated, he must be able to tell. He must hear Calum's heart. Is this weird? Isn't it? Just because they never have cuddled before doesn't mean they can't but Calum has to admit this is a strange moment for them to start. For Ashton to decide that they're the kind of friends who will fall asleep cuddled up, one's head on the other's chest.

Real or not real?  Calum wonders desperately. Is this real or not, Ashton?

It feels real. Ashton feels more real than ever as his fingertips flutter over Calum’s ribs and come to rest there.

“I’m a pretty good fake boyfriend, huh?” Ashton murmurs, yawning halfway through his sentence. Now that the lights are off, the tiredness is catching up to Calum too. If only he could succumb to it. If only he could feel tired, or feel anything other than confusion bordering on hysteria about the position he and Ashton are currently in. Not to mention the question Ashton has just asked him.

“Yeah,” Calum says, so careful not to move in any way in case he jostles Ashton. Any other time he would leave it at that, but any other time they wouldn’t be in this position and Mali wouldn’t be in his head telling him to read into it a little or take a leap or whatever the fuck, so Calum takes a short breath and adds, “You’d probably make a good real boyfriend, too.”

There’s a slow, endless pause. Ashton doesn’t respond. For a good few seconds he doesn’t react at all. Then he says, “To you?”

And shit. Calum’s brave, but not that brave. “To anyone.” He swallows. “You’re likable. Charming. Caring. Thoughtful. You have good boyfriend traits.”

“So do you.” Ashton’s voice has gone quiet, pitched so low that Calum closes his eyes so he can hear better. “You’re all of those things. And you’re very handsome.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you’re not handsome,” Calum says.

Ashton breathes out like he’s laughing. Then, abruptly, he yawns again. “Well, I had fun being your fake boyfriend. I liked meeting your family.”

“They liked you.”

“I liked—” Ashton breaks off. “Right. I said that. What time are we leaving tomorrow?”

“Dunno, noon?”

Ashton hums. “Okay. Goodnight.”

They haven’t set an alarm, but Calum has a feeling they won’t need one. The way things are going right now, he won’t be getting much sleep at all.

Calum does not believe himself to be an overthinker. He is at odds with every single person who knows him in this opinion. 

In Calum’s opinion, he underthinks. If he overthought every little thing, he’d go out of his mind. He isn’t overthinking his relationship with Ashton because if he did he’d start seeing things that aren’t there and finding reciprocity in empty gestures. People do things with absolutely zero intention all the time. Calum knows this. He reacts accordingly. He refuses to think anything means more than it appears to.

 That’s the thing about Ashton, though. Ashton is always intentional. Ashton doesn’t just do things. He puts thought into everything, and he’s always worried about how his actions will be perceived. Ashton is a chronic overthinker. 

So what, exactly, had he expected Calum to think when he’d cozied up in a queen-sized bed and asked Calum about being a boyfriend that night at Calum’s house?

Calum knows what Mali would say. He knows it because he can basically hear it in his head. He’d been testing the waters, Calum. Seeing how you would react to the idea of being his boyfriend. You’d never ask that kind of thing to someone you didn’t have feelings for.

And maybe that’s true, yes. Maybe Mali really does have a sixth sense. Maybe everything she’d said to him that night had been accurate and Calum should trust his sister more.

Or maybe she’s wrong. If Calum lets her get in his head — if he starts reading into this whole thing — he’ll immediately find words where there are none. Mali wants him to read into things. Calum hates reading into things. He only has to be wrong once to be colossally embarrassed about jumping to conclusions and Calum hopes to never experience that feeling. If he takes everything at face value, no one can ever blame him if he's wrong.

This Ashton thing might kill him.

The day after they get back to campus, Calum gets a text from Ashton. It does not help his stress levels in any way.

Ashton: Hey are you free rn? I have to tell you something but I want to say it in person

Calum: yeah you coming here or should I come to you?

Ashton: You can come here

Calum: should I be freaking out?

Ashton: No!! Don’t panic everything is fine

Somehow, that doesn’t calm Calum’s nerves at all.

Ashton lives ten minutes away from Calum, in a small place just off-campus that he shares with his junior housemates, Luke and Michael. The house has been passed down through the English department for years, and Luke and Michael constantly rag on Ashton for breaking the tradition, but they can’t care too much or they wouldn’t have asked him to move in for this year — at least that’s what Ashton says.

Calum likes Luke and Michael. Most of their interactions come in the form of passing nods and exchanged greetings upon entering and exiting the house, but Luke, who’s double-majoring in English and Theatre, is the reason Calum had even been at that party at the start of the year, which means he’s really to thank for Calum ever meeting Ashton. Luke is surprisingly friendly for someone who seems pretty quiet. Calum is also of the personal opinion that Luke is an incredible actor, and he’s got one of the best voices in the department, rivaled, of course, by Ashton alone. 

Calum may be slightly biased. Slightly. 

And he likes Michael, though Michael is a little harder to read. He’s usually playing video games, which means Calum can probably count on one hand the number of times he and Michael have made eye contact. They’ve had some decent exchanges without eye contact, though, including one memorable occasion during which Calum helped Michael beat Luke at FIFA. 

Luke and Michael are both, predictably, on the couch when Calum lets himself in. It’s a long, weathered piece of furniture, and it was probably equally weathered a decade ago when it was put there. It seems like every time Calum sees the couch, it’s a little more discolored. The English department house is pretty well-known for their parties, so Calum suspects alcohol spillage. This is one of the reasons why Ashton likes to spend time at Calum’s dorm.

“Hey,” says Luke, looking up from his laptop when Calum walks in. “Long time no see, feels like.”

“Hey,” Calum says back. “Hey, Michael.”

“Hey, what’s up?” Michael is leaning over Luke’s shoulder, looking at Luke’s laptop screen and scrolling through something while Luke checks his phone. They’re so close together that they only just occupy one cushion, and Michael’s chin is hooked over Luke’s shoulder and appears to have been for a while.

“Ashton said he has something to tell me,” Calum says. “Made me walk all the way over here just to say it in person, so it better be a big deal.” He doesn’t want to show how nervous he is, but truthfully the suspense is killing him. The walk here had been torture, and Calum had been unable to keep himself from overthinking what exactly it is Ashton might have to tell him. There’s a passing chance that what Ashton has to say is related to their fake relationship. It’s slim, but not none. Calum so badly wants that to be it, because he’s going crazy trying to decipher what Ashton had meant by everything he’d said and done that night, and he just wants answers.

At this, Michael snaps his head up. “Oh, yeah, he does,” he says. It looks like he’s trying to figure out something else to add, maybe to reassure Calum that it’s not a big deal, but he must not come up with anything convincing enough to say because instead he just closes his mouth and returns to Luke’s laptop.

“What’s up with you guys?” Calum asks, stalling.

“We’re making a playlist,” Luke says. “For— um—” He stops there, looks up at Calum, and makes an unreadable expression. “For Ashton. You should probably go talk to him.”

“Jesus, did someone die? What’s going on?”

“Nothing bad,” Luke says hastily. “Honestly, there’s no need to be worried. I just think he’s really itching to tell you. He seemed really nervous, so.”

Calum swallows. That means he’s told Luke and Michael already. What the fuck is Calum about to walk into? “Okay. Sure. See you guys later.” Hesitating with a foot hovering over the steps: “He’s in his room?”

“Yeah,” Luke says, pointing unnecessarily. “See you.”

“What about ‘Good Riddance’?” Michael muses, and Luke elbows him.

“That’s mean!”

“But the song is nice!”

Calum climbs the steps, leaving the pair of them to their friendly bickering. It seems his heart rate rises as he does, and by the time he reaches the landing it’s so loud he can’t hear anything else in his ears. He’s not sure how to describe the feeling coursing through his veins except that it’s controlling him more than he’s controlling it. As he reaches to knock gently on Ashton’s closed door, he realizes his hands are shaking a little.

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

“Oh, Calum.” Ashton pulls the door open like he’d been standing right there, waiting. 

Calum can’t read his expression, either. His hair is ruffled out of its usual quiff; there are bags under his honey-hazel eyes. A thin, nervous smile sits on his lips. It’s a smile Calum can’t figure out. In Ashton’s hand is his phone, screen on but illegible from where Calum is.

And as Calum drinks in Ashton for the first time since they’d returned from Calum’s house, he notices Ashton is wearing a familiar Aerosmith shirt.

Calum remembers that shirt. He remembers the first time Ashton wore it, back in the fall. It'd been threadbare and full of holes then, and it's only gotten worse for wear. Ashton says the holes are stylish, but Calum knows that's just his excuse so he never has to throw it away.

He knows this shirt. He knows what it means for Ashton to wear it.

“Aerosmith? Do you even listen to Aerosmith?”

Ashton glances down at his shirt and then back up at Calum’s slightly teasing grin. “‘Course I do,” he says, affronted. “What kind of person wears a shirt from a band they don’t like?”

“Who listens to Aerosmith anymore?” Calum replies. “Get with the times, Irwin.”

Ashton only makes a face, and he steps past Calum to seat himself on the floor. Calum closes the door and sits on his bed, pulling his laptop back into his lap. A minute passes before Ashton quietly pipes up. “It was my dad’s. He gave it to my mum before I was born and she gave it to me when I was old enough to listen to music. She played me ‘Dream On’ and told me that music was the second-best thing my dad ever gave her.” Another pause. “Me being the first. Obviously.”

“Oh,” Calum says, and instantly feels awful for making fun. “Where’s your dad?”

Ashton shrugs. “Not sure. He left when I was too young to remember. This is all I have of him.” He nods to himself. “The shirt fits me perfectly. It’s weird. It’s like…we’re the same size. I wear the same size clothes that my dad did.”

“Do you…” Calum bites his lip. “Miss him?”

“No,” Ashton says, without hesitation. “And I wouldn’t want him back in my life. I love my stepdad and my step-siblings. And if my dad is the kind of guy who quits after he makes a commitment, I definitely don’t need him around.”

“Oh.” Then why do you wear his shirt, Calum wants to know, but it’s probably not that deep.

Except: “I don’t wear the shirt because of my dad,” Ashton continues, looking up at Calum. “I wear it because my mum gave it to me. It reminds me that life is what you make it. My mum could have thrown this shirt in the garbage when my dad left. She could’ve stopped listening to Aerosmith. Instead she separated the music from the man. She didn’t let a bad experience ruin something she enjoyed.” He pulls at the hem of the shirt, stretching it out. “I wear it whenever there’s a big opportunity for me. Anything stressful and potentially life-changing. To remind myself that every opportunity is what I make it.”

Calum frowns. “What’s happening to make you wear it now?”

“I had a meeting with my academic advisor,” Ashton says. “I wanted to ask her if I should bother applying to CalArts or if I had no shot at getting in. I wanted to be okay with it either way.”

“And?”

“And she basically told me I’d be insane not to,” Ashton says, smiling a little wryly. “Dream on, right?”

“I could have told you that,” Calum says. “If you don’t apply to CalArts I will literally tell on you to your mother.”

“You don’t know my mother,” Ashton says. “And don’t you dare. I’d be insane either way, I guess, because CalArts is crazy expensive.”

“That’s why scholarships,” Calum says. “Plus, added bonus of the school is named for me.” Ashton stares blankly. “CalArts.” Calum points at himself. “Cal-um.”

A laugh breaks from Ashton. Calum starts laughing as well. “You are so fucking stupid. Oh my God. That was terrible!”

“You literally call me Cal, Ashton!”

“It was just such a bad joke!”

“It was fucking hilarious and I’m right!”

Ashton’s giggles taper off. “No, really. CalArts is really far, Calum. Like, across-the-country far. And I don’t have the money to be traveling back and forth all the time, so if I got in, and I went…I’d just be there. I’d have to pick up and move. Leave everything here behind.” He looks at Calum so earnestly and so suddenly that Calum is taken aback by it. “Can you think of any reason I might not want that? Anything at all?”

Calum swallows. “Well, we’d be able to FaceTime and stuff.”

Ashton studies him carefully, and then nods. “Yeah. That’s true.”

“It’s your dream school, Ashton,” Calum says. “You’re submitting an application, end of story.”

“Dream on,” Ashton says.

“Dream on,” Calum echoes, and grins.

“Aerosmith,” is what Calum says. Ashton looks down at his shirt out of reflex.

“Oh,” he says. “Yeah.”

“Something potentially life-changing is happening?”

Ashton nods, stepping back to admit Calum into his room. “Yeah.”

“For me too,” Calum says, surprising them both. Continuing on this theme, he says breathlessly, “There’s something I need to tell you. Something really important. Potentially life-changing.”

“Oh,” Ashton says. “Okay. You go first.”

Calum twists his left hand with his right, and he takes a deep breath that he doesn’t feel anywhere in his lungs. “Okay, so…look, you know me. You know I don’t like to assume. But I’ve been trying not to read into things and trying not to get my hopes up and it’s gotten me nowhere, and so I’m— I’m going to start reading into things and getting my hopes up and if at any point I get anything horrifically wrong please stop me before I embarrass myself beyond redemption.”

“About what?”

Calum sucks in air. It does nothing. He tries to swallow, but his mouth is dry, and only his palms are damp. “About the fact that I really, really like you. I’ve had a crush on you basically since I met you. And I just…with you at my house, pretending to be my boyfriend— I know you’re an actor and I know it was all pretend but—” He shakes his head. “God, this sounds so stupid when I say it like this, but it didn’t feel like it. It didn’t feel like you were having a hard time pretending to like me. Sometimes it didn’t feel like you were pretending at all. Which was good because I wasn’t pretending, and it was easy for me to tell my whole family I like you because I do. I really do.”

Calum chances a look at Ashton’s face and immediately wishes he hadn’t. Ashton is frozen, staring in what looks like dismay at Calum.

“Okay,” Calum says, wondering if this is what a heart attack feels like. “So that’s my thing, and now you know, and now you can reject me and tell me you don’t like me and that I did, in fact, read too far into this and we can pretend I never said anything.”

This last piece must shock Ashton out of his stupor. “That’s not— It’s not that I don’t like you, Calum.”

Now it’s Calum’s turn to be shocked. “What?”

“I’ve liked you since I met you,” Ashton says dimly. “I told that to your family and it was true. I didn’t think you liked me— I didn’t think you’d ever like me, but I…” He takes a deep breath and holds out his phone for Calum to see. “I got into CalArts. Full ride.”

Calum’s brain comes to a shuddering halt. “Oh, holy shit,” he says, unsure of how this is related, scared to find out. Mustering up all his sincerity, he says, “Congratulations, Ash. I knew you’d get in. You deserve it.”

Ashton nods. “Yeah, but, um, so…” He casts his eyes downward, and it’s like even he doesn’t want to say what he says next. “I don’t think it would be a good idea to start something now, if I’m moving so far away.”

The world comes crashing down around Calum, high hopes crumbling around his feet. When he talks, his voice sounds strange to his own ears. “Oh. I see.”

“I wish you’d said something earlier,” Ashton says. He sounds far away, underwater; Calum would swim towards it, but he’s frozen in place. “I wish I had. Maybe if we’d already been together, if we— but we can’t start something on a foundation of separation. I don’t see any way that goes well.” 

This is supposed to be a triumphant moment for Ashton, but all Calum can think about is how somehow he’d done everything right, read everything correctly, and yet here he still is, happiness slipping through his fingers.

“I thought you said you like me,” he says carefully. “What else do we need?”

“I do like you,” Ashton says. His voice pitches a little higher. “Relationships are about more than just that, though. They’re hard work and you have to be really committed to it, and that’s hard enough when you’re together, but imagine trying to commit to someone who’s thousands of miles away. You have to be all in, which is a lot harder than it sounds.”

“So it’s not that you don’t like me,” Calum says hoarsely. “It’s just that you don’t like me enough? You don’t think we could do it?”

“It’s not about you,” Ashton says. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt. Me or you. That’s why everyone warns you about long-distance. Being far apart can really do some damage and it can lead to some really stupid decisions and people do get hurt, Calum. I don’t think you’d do anything on purpose, of course not, and I’d like to believe I wouldn’t do anything either, but we don’t know. The people who cheat on their long-distance partners don’t mean to hurt their partners, either, they’re just lonely. I'm not saying either of us would cheat,” when Calum’s eyes go defensively wide, “I’m just saying…that we can’t predict how we’ll react. Distance fucks people up and it’s hard enough being friends who live far apart but— a relationship? You want a boyfriend who lives across the country, who you never see? A brand-new boyfriend who you really can’t bring home to your parents because he’s not there?”

“If that boyfriend is you? Yeah, I do,” Calum says. His voice cracks pathetically and he swallows.

Ashton’s face shutters. “Well…I don’t. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. You have no idea how sorry. But I have to go with my gut.”

Calum stares at him. “I don’t…I don’t want you to think that I don’t want this for you. CalArts, acting school, you deserve it. I want you to be happy. I’m happy for you. But just tell me, okay, because— I don’t know. I need something to tell Mali, maybe.” Ashton winces like he already knows what Calum’s going to say. “If you weren’t going, would you want to…I don’t know, be with me? Would you want us to be together?”

“I do want us to be together,” Ashton says sadly. “We just didn’t time it right.”

Calum nods. He cracks a half-smile. “Okay.” He nods again, feeling the truth of this settle like sediment on his shoulders. 

Ashton is leaving, and he’s leaving Calum behind.

“Okay,” Ashton repeats.

“Okay,” Calum says. “I’m really proud of you, Ash. Congratulations. Really.” He nods at Ashton’s shirt. “Dream until your dreams come true, isn’t it?”

But at what cost?  he thinks, as Ashton seems to process this. And at a cost to whom? Why do I have to lose just for you to win?

“Yeah.” Ashton brushes invisible fuzz from the front of his shirt. “Well…that was what I had to tell you.”

“I’m gonna go,” Calum says. “Thanks for telling me. Face to face. I’m, um…I hope it’s obvious that I’m gonna miss you when you leave.”

“We have time,” Ashton says desperately. “I’m not leaving the minute I graduate, and besides I don’t graduate for another couple of months.”

“Yeah,” Calum says, but he already feels the distance, a crack forming in the floor between them, expanding by the second. California is so far. Ashton hasn’t even left and Calum can already sense them drifting apart. “But I mean I’m gonna go right now, so I can call my sister and cry on the phone.”

“Calum—”

“I’ll talk to you later.” Calum can feel tears stinging his eyes and he takes a sharp breath. “Bye,” he says in a tight voice, and his eyes are wet when he turns and leaves Ashton’s house, passing Luke and Michael without a pause.

The sky is only just starting to dim as the sun threatens its descent. As Calum walks he digs out his phone, squeezes his eyes shut for a second, and hits dial.

After four rings, Mali picks up. “Hello?”

“You were right,” Calum sniffles, and then bursts into tears.

“Oh no,” Mali says softly. “That doesn’t sound good. Tell me what happened, honey.”

So Calum does.

nine months later

The whole house smells like cinnamon.

“Fresh from the oven,” Mali announces, holding a steaming cinnamon roll in front of Calum’s mouth. Calum obligingly bites into it and takes the cinnamon roll in his hand.

“Oh my God, these are so fucking good,” he says. “You learned to make these at school? ”

“I know, right?” Mali grins and steals a bite out of Calum’s cinnamon roll. “I thought they’d taste kind of eh but they’re fucking amazing.”

“They’re fucking amazing, bro,” Calum says. “Holy shit.”

“Cool, I’m gonna go make another batch. Enjoy that.” And just like that, the whirlwind that is Mali returns to the kitchen, and Calum is left in the living room, enjoying a cinnamon roll in front of the TV by himself.

Calum’s winter break had begun last week, but Mali’s had only just started yesterday. In typical Mali fashion, she’d taken no time for R&R and had instead immediately begun baking, to everyone’s delight. Already there are clingfilmed plates of chocolate chocolate chip and sugar cookies, and now Mali is expanding her repertoire.

Calum loves being home for Christmas. There’s absolutely nothing like Mali’s home baking in the warmth of their house as snow falls gently outside.

As Calum is polishing off the cinnamon roll, there’s a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Calum says unnecessarily, as if Mali was going to offer. Still, she appears in the kitchen doorway when Calum stands.

“Who is it?” she asks. There’s a towel over her shoulder that she tosses when Calum makes grabby hands with his sticky fingers, and he gratefully wipes his hands clean.

“Dunno,” he replies. “Who are our options?”

Mali shrugs. “Neighbor?”

“Maybe they need something for baking?” 

“Well why don’t you open it and see, genius?”

“Would you wait five seconds for me to get to the door?” Calum traipses over to the front door and pulls it open, and his heart leaps into his throat.

“Hi,” says Ashton.

Cold air rushes into the house, icing Calum’s cheeks. There’s a slushy layer of melty snow over the lawn, but the flakes in Ashton’s hair have yet to dissolve. He’s not wearing a hat, which seems foolish. Maybe California has brainwashed him into forgetting what East Coast weather is like.

“Hi,” Calum says back, a little breathless. “Ashton. What— what are you doing here?”

“Mali invited me,” Ashton says sheepishly. Of course she did. Of course they’re scheming behind Calum’s back. Ashton looks Calum in the eye. “I just got home for my break, and I wanted to— I needed to talk to you. In person.”

Calum’s heard that before. He seems to recall a less-than-ideal conversation last time Ashton said he had to tell Calum something in person. “When did you get back? Yesterday?”

“Um,” Ashton says. “This morning?”

“Christ.” Calum hesitates, and then he gingerly steps out of the house. It’s warmer inside, but Mali is inside, and something tells Calum he doesn’t want anyone eavesdropping on this conversation. 

Still, as he turns to close the door behind him, he sees Mali smile at him and tilt her head just a little. Calum sighs and rolls his eyes a little, pulling the door shut.

“So…you’re back,” he says, pulling down his sleeves to cover his hands. “How’s California?”

“Sunny,” Ashton says. “Hot. Far.”

“I asked the wrong question,” Calum says, smiling slightly. “How is CalArts?”

Ashton all but beams. “Amazing. It’s incredible. I love it. I mean it’s a fuckton of work and I’m stressed all the time and my self-esteem has taken so many hits that if it was a video game character it would be long dead, but I love it.”

“Good,” Calum says. “I’m really glad to hear that.”

“It’s a little lonely, is the only thing,” Ashton adds, nodding. “I’ve met some nice people and made some friends, but…I miss you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Calum says, figuring that’s an okay thing to say. “It’s weird doing my senior year without you. Luke and Michael got a custom-made cardboard cutout of you and put it up in the living room.”

“Yeah, Mike sent me a picture,” Ashton says, laughing. “I’m glad you moved in with them. Are you guys getting along well?”

“Yeah, great. Finally restoring the English department house to its intended purpose.”

“Thank goodness they have you.”

“I don’t know, I think Luke and Michael would’ve been happy to leave the cardboard cutout in your room as their third roommate,” Calum jokes.

Ashton laughs. And then he stops laughing and just smiles and he says, “I got you a Christmas present.”

Calum blinks. The snow is barely a flurry now and it’s not as cold as he’d expected it to be. Ashton, however, is shivering in only jeans and a hoodie. Unless the gift is small enough to fit in his pocket, Calum is at a loss.

“Oh,” he says. “I didn’t get you anything. I didn’t, um, know you were coming home. Or here.”

"Don't worry, I didn't buy you anything. It's more of a message for you."

"What a lucky guy I am," says Calum.

Ashton huffs an almost-laugh. "Do you want to hear it?"

Desperately, yes. "By all means," Calum says, gesturing.

"Okay, so. A little while ago, Mali messaged me on Instagram telling me I should come by when I came home for Christmas." Ashton shifts on his feet. “Somehow she persuaded me to come, even though I thought it was a mistake. I thought you wouldn’t want to see me.” There’s a pang in Calum’s chest. “But I really, really wanted to see you, and Mali seemed convinced that you would be happy to see me. Or at least that you wouldn’t turn your back. So here I am."

Of course Mali is responsible for this. Calum needs to learn not to be surprised by her meddling anymore.

“Of course I’m happy to see you, I’m just confused,” Calum says. “I didn’t even know you were coming home at all.”

“Yeah.” Ashton shakes his head. “We haven’t talked a lot since I left, I know. I’m sorry about that. And I’m sorry about showing up without a warning. But mostly I’m sorry for the way I left in the spring. About the way I left us.”

Calum almost chokes. “What?”

“Look, Calum, I have nothing to lose here, so I’m just gonna be honest.” Ashton pushes a hand through his hair, melting all the crystalline snowflakes that had settled between the strands. “I still have feelings for you. I thought they’d go away after not seeing you for so long, but I thought about you every single day I was at school. The only reason I never said anything was because I thought I had already fucked up my chance with you. If you’re still upset, I understand. I regret what I said to you. I gave up without a fight, and I was an idiot.” He inhales. “I’m home for a month. I wanted to tell you now, because in case your feelings have changed, I would rather know now, but if they haven’t—” He gives Calum a nervous, hopeful look. “If they haven’t then…we have a month.”

It might be the weather, but Calum is frozen. He’s had bizarre, impossible fantasies about this exact moment, but he’d never expected it to come. Now that it’s here, he has no idea what to say. Something tells him he’s supposed to feel happy, but any happiness he may be experiencing is being drowned out by a far stronger feeling of bitter resentment. He’s wanted closure for months, but now that it’s being offered to him on a silver platter, he can’t help the instinct to push it away.

Finally, he finds his voice, and surprises himself with what he says. “You can’t just call all the shots, Ashton.” Ashton winces. “Yeah,” Calum continues, frowning. “You don’t get to decide we won’t work because you don’t think so, and then change your mind and expect that I’ll be right there with you.”

“I— I’m not trying to do that,” Ashton says. His eyebrows knit together. He seems genuinely distraught at this observation. “I just…I guess if it was me, I’d want to know. If you had gone, I’d want to know if you at least regretted leaving me. So I’m just telling you that I do. So much. And I’m so sorry.” 

Calum swallows air. Part of him is grasping for more reasons to be upset with Ashton, but the other, much louder part of him is yelling, you love him! You love him and he’s here and he’s asking you to give him another chance and you love him and you’ve missed him and you’d be an idiot to say no just because you’re too proud to accept that people change!

“It’s okay,” he says. Then he shakes his head. “I mean, it was always okay , you know? I understood where you were coming from. It hurt, but I understood. What I don’t understand is what changed. I mean, you're still going back to school. You aren't worried about, I don't know, committing? Being all-in? All that stuff you said last time?"

"Yeah, I'm worried," Ashton says. "But so what? No matter how we do it, there will be challenges. I guess I, um, realized that it wasn't worth losing this opportunity just because I was scared to take the risk." He bites his lip. “Also, if I could think about you that much when we weren’t even in a relationship, I doubt I’ll have trouble with the whole all-in commitment part. But that’s just me.”

Calum inhales. “You think we can do it?”

“I don’t know,” Ashton says. “And I don’t care. If we can, then great. If not, then at least we’ll know. At least we’ll have tried.” He holds out a tentative hand. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Calum lets out the breath in his lungs and takes Ashton’s cold hand in his own. “I think a month is what we make it." He laces their fingers together. "And I think we can make it a really, really good start."

Ashton smiles impossibly bright, a little wry, that same old smile he would always give Calum — the smile he wore before vowing to be Calum's fake boyfriend, months ago. He lifts up the hem of his hoodie and reveals the ratty Aerosmith t-shirt underneath.

“I was hoping you would say that,” he says. "Does this count as a dream come true?"

“Yeah, I’m done dreaming,” Calum returns, stepping closer to Ashton. “From now on, everything is real.”

"Sounds good to me," Ashton breathes.

The flecks of gold in Ashton’s eyes disappear as he leans in; one hand is cold on Calum’s bicep, the other freezing around the back of Calum’s neck, but Calum doesn’t feel a thing. His lips meet Ashton’s as snowflakes fall delicately around them, and this time, he knows with absolute certainty that this is real.