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Callum braced his hands on the arm of the couch as he tried to think of a plan.
Ben was sat in the bath, a bath Callum had ran for him in a bid to get the younger man to relax. He was only in the room right next to him, yet he felt so far away. Since the phone call he’d resembled an animal likely to bolt, and Callum had only just felt safe to leave his position where he stood guarding the door.
He got it. Well he didn’t, he couldn’t ever fully understand what Ben was feeling right now, but he could appreciate- appreciate was a better word- what he was feeling and why he was feeling it.
But he couldn’t allow him to do what he wanted, what he thought he needed to do. Ben was Callum’s paul. He was the one that helped him come out, the one that taught him that he can love who he wants to love, be that a man. Be that a fucking Mitchell. Callum is allowed to love a Mitchell, a male Mitchell. And it’s because of Ben. Because of his bravery and courage and beauty. He can’t loose that. Can’t loose the love of his life to the man that already took Ben’s.
He’d said Ben came first, between the job and Ben, let’s face it, it wasn’t a choice. If it meant keeping him safe, keeping him here with him, so he can still have those late night cuddles in front of whatever awful tv show Ben has chosen that night.
It was difficult to avoid the grin that teased to form at the thought of Ben in the bath.
God he was beautiful.
He was Callum’s husband. Husband!
Callum was two seconds from opening the bathroom door when he heard movement coming up the stairs, accompanied by the usual complaints. Nan. Great.
He twisted the handle of bathroom door so it was just again and gave it a light tap. Knowing he would much rather be in there with Ben then out in the wilderness with his Nan complaining about what ben calls her “old lady legs”.
Sigh.
“Stuart?”
“Nah Nan, just us.” Us. Yes, tonight was supposed to be about just them. He frowned as his body carried him further away from the bathroom, the bathroom that contained a naked Ben.
“A night in with the gays with your old Nan, aye Callum?”
She rounded the steps, took her flipping ages, but not long enough for Callum to run to the bathroom, lock the door and hide in there all night.
“Well me and Ben-“
We’re going to cuddle naked and eat crap and maybe Ben will talk some more and I will listen and help him fall asleep.
“Where is Whitney then? Preening ‘imself in the bathroom?”
He flared his nostrils as he caught sight of the frame placed on the set of shelves. They were relatively new when they took it, despite them not being together for that long in comparison to other relationship, so much has happened, good, shit, romantic, scary, that it feels like years ago. This man, his man, Ben, was (still is) this breath of fresh air. After Whitney, Callum was allowed to be free, and he taught him how to do that without looking over his shoulder.
He isn’t Whitney. He’s everything Whitney couldn’t give him.
“Just ran him a bath, he’s had a long day.”
“That husband of yours always is always ‘avin a bad day, what does he think the rest of us do, sit on our arses all da-“
“Nan.”
She shook her head with a scoff as she laid her handbag down on the arm of the sofa, collapsing down onto it with a huff.
“Don’t know why you couldn’t just go through with that first weddin’ of yours. Whitney’s a beautiful girl.”
Was he really going to get into this again? Was he really going to have to explain that Whitney is a female, yes, sure a beautiful one. He can appreciate that. But she’s a female, a woman.
He wasn’t built to love her, he was built to love Ben, and be loved by him.
So Callum simply just sighed, something he’d been doing a lot lately, part of him was scared to think whether he didn’t fight for his and Ben’s love in front of her because she wouldn’t understand or because he’s still just a little bit scared.
But that’s impossible right? He’s wearing a fucking ring, his man wearing the matching one. Callum did it, he got married to a man. So why can’t he stick up for his husband?
He’d been letting her comments go since before the wedding, and maybe at the beginning there was an excuse, like he thought she’d get used to it, get over it. But that isn’t an excuse is it? He should stop being such a pushover.
“You’ve only gone and made it more complicated for yaself, Callum. Could of been nice and settled with her by now. Kid on the way, your own space, not livin’’ere and hiding from bargain Bruce Willis across the square.” She kicked her shoes off and reached for the nearest magazine, wetting her thumb and forefinger before flicking past the first few pages that she already undoubtedly knew word for word. “Made yourself some glorified babysitter with a ring on ya finger, just think about how well Stuart’s done for ‘imself. Sure Lorraine ain’t perfect but she’s tryin’ to give my grandson a family-“
“I have a family. Ben, lexi are my family, Jay and Lola are my family.”
“But they aren’t your family, they ain’t even got your name.”
He was helpless to stop the laugh that came bursting from his bitten lips, “name don’t mean shit, and you know it.” Violet’s eyes widened as she put her magazine down with distaste, but Callum was going for it now. “You share my name, you’re a Highway, but you can’t accept the person I love, you don’t understand why I love him, don’t get why I married him instead of what you think to be the perfect fucking bride. I don’t want a bride, Nan. I want a husband, and I got one, didn’t I? After all those years watching and wanting what I was taught I couldn’t have, I finally came out with the best out there, and I love him. The man, the man, Nan, through that door loves me back, and even now I don’t know how, the family I grew up in, what I was taught to believe in the past, why should I get his love? What matters is that I do, and I ain’t losing that.”
“Callum-“
“No! I don’t want you calling him Whitney again, do you know how offensive it is? His name is Ben, Ben Mitchell. He ain’t the bride either, we are both the men in this relationship, that’s just how it works and I don’t know how I can explain it to ya any clearer. I ain’t a babysitter, I’m a parent, and isn’t that what you and dad wanted? It ain’t the traditional route you could argue, but who decided what was traditional and what wasn’t? Because it feels fucking perfect to me. I’m going to spend the rest of my life enjoying this piece of perfect i have been lucky enough to find, and if you are going to sit there and get in the way of it, mock it, mock him, mock us, then I don’t want you.”
“I love him Nan, and that has to be enough for you to understand.”
He released the grip he hadn’t noticed he’d held on the ring that lay on his left fourth finger, as he looked boldly into his relatives eyes, “Stuart got there, it’s your turn now.”
And then he stood up, because until she got it, until she understood that this is what him and Ben were, he wasn’t going to make any more efforts. Not once did he look back at the couch as he slipped into the bathroom with Ben, who had his head sticking out from the heap of bubbles with a blushing grin plastered on his face.
“You heard that then?”
“Thin walls, babe.”
“Ah,” Callum brought his hands back to behind his neck so he could hook his T-shirt over his head and then unzipped his jeans. The younger man shuffled forward in the bath as to make space for Callum to come in behind him. He did, only a little water spilling over the edge as Callum raised his knees at either side of Ben, who fell back into the officers chest. “Should have done that sooner, sorry.”
In front of him, Ben shook his head, his hair tickling against the newly damp skin of Callum’s chest, “It was worth it.”
Laying a kiss on Ben’s temple, Callum wrapped his arms around his husband, pulling him as close as two people could be. “I’m so sorry about what happened today, but we will sort it, okay? We will, Ben.”
The other man lifted one of Callum’s big hands to his mouth and placed a tender kiss there, before nuzzling his cheek into his palm. “I love you cal.”
“I love you too, Ben.”