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Calum had always enjoyed the little things in life. He liked watching Duke run around the backyard and the little dewy pawprints he would paint the living room floor in when he came back inside. He liked the sound of the wind tossing around the tops of the trees that lined his yard and the smell of rain coming through his open window just before the season gets too cold to sleep with it cracked. Smiles from strangers at the grocery store and the greetings from the baristas at the coffee shop closest to his house make his day.
Somehow, 2020 made him appreciate the little things even more.
It’s easy to fall in love with all the tiny things the universe creates when staying somewhere like this house Ashton had found buried on the fourth page of Airbnb listings on the road that leads eventually to Joshua Tree. There’s no neighbors too close but there’s a grocery only a five minute drive out. It was perfect. Of course it was, Calum had thought at the time. Ashton has always been able to do that, to find exactly what they all need at any point in time.
They had seen each other in small amounts prior to the trip (it was a stretch to call it isolating for Calum when hanging around at his home with Roy and Duke was pretty much his natural state in between projects). He felt safe going to see Michael every few weeks, to have a drink around the firepit while they watched the dogs run around the yard. Ashton was working on a solo thing and Calum was so proud of him. He didn’t want to disrupt the creative process there so he saw him less that summer. Calum was okay with that. He knew whatever Ashton was making was something important to him, important to his future. And Ashton’s future is kind of all of their future’s. So he let him work.
Luke’s approach to isolation was an interesting one, Calum thought. None of them saw him for quite awhile, his commitment to really truly being alone was admirable. They got plenty of pictures in the group chat of his life though, which Calum found himself treasuring, usually spending the whole afternoon spinning up an idea of how Luke spent his day prior to sending a picture of the new dish his mom had taught him to make over Facetime, Petunia in the background with a flower tucked behind her ear. He’d usually call Luke on those days, let him tell his own story of what he had actually done that day, the soft smile in his voice bringing a grin (and maybe a bit of a blush) to Calum’s face too.
The calls to Luke to hear about his day, and for Calum to share his own in return, became somewhat regular in the late summer months. Calum was grateful for it. He thinks about the start of the year, how when traveling all over doing promo or whatever the hell it was that they were doing prior to the world shutting down, how easily Luke would cuddle into Calum on longer flights. How his chapped lips would puff gently against Calum’s neck as he slept. How Luke’s hand would always find Calum’s in the back of a car on the way to play the biggest show of their career or in conversations between just the four of them when they started questioning everything going on with this new album and era of the band’s career.
But then a pandemic hit and Calum wasn’t supposed to be seeing Luke from anywhere closer than six feet away, let alone holding his hand. This will all pass and he’ll still be there, Cal. I’ve always seen the way he looks at you, don’t worry about this. His sister’s words over a Facetime call from London played out in his mind often. He knew she was right but that hadn’t stopped his brain from spinning circles.
It’s their third day out in the desert. They had taken the time to settle in, get back into a groove of being around each other all the time, try to decide what it was this trip was for. Feldy was coming out later this evening to help them out with that. It was going to be a good trip. Ashton suggested they limit their expectations and just create what they felt like they should create. Calum liked that idea.
The sun is probably a few minutes away from pulling above the horizon when Calum wanders into the kitchen. During most of the time he’s spent alone, he rises with the sun and has a cup of coffee on the back porch while Duke takes his morning stroll and investigation of the yard. Duke is at Michael’s (Crystal was kind enough to play doggy day care for all of them while they were away) but Calum likes routine, so coffee with the sunrise has to stay. He finds the French press hidden away in the pantry and the grounds they had bought at the grocery the night before. Calum fills the electric kettle and wanders back to his room for a beanie while he waits for the water to boil.
He hears the click on the kettle while he’s adjusting the soft knit hat around his messy hair (he’s been too scared to try to cut it on his own). He pours the water over the grounds and watches the sky turn from navy to blue to purple while he waits for the coffee to brew. When he decides enough time has passed (it’s all on instinct at this point since he always forgets to set a timer), Calum pushes down the plunger and reaches for the mug he’s claimed as his own from a hook on the wall. It’s hand painted with a flock of birds and a sunshine. Messy numbers on the bottom tell him the mug was painted in 2001. He likes that it’s seen a lot of life.
It’s too cold to sit outside, he decides, so he takes his mug to the front room that has a window that faces the east. Close enough to his normal morning routine, he decides. While he drinks his coffee, Calum focuses on his breathing and calls it meditation. He’s been trying to be more intentional with the time he has to himself.
He’s focusing enough on his breathing that he doesn’t hear the footsteps coming into the room and is startled a bit when he feels a dip in the sofa beside him. Luke’s breathy laugh makes him smile almost immediately though. Calum blinks his eyes against the rising sun and turns to face the boy sitting beside him.
Calum had missed the sight of Luke in the morning. For so many years he had grown used to seeing messy curls and soft knuckles rubbing away the sleep from Luke’s eyes as he rolled out of his bunk or wandered into the lobby of hotels all across the world. He had missed so much about his boys in their time apart but the way that sleep clings to the corners of Luke’s sky blue eyes as he sips from his own mug (this one is from 2004 and has butterflies on it), the sunrise painting his face and grown out bleached hair a glowy orange, sits very close to the top of the list.
“Morning, Cal,” Luke says in a quiet, scratchy voice. It echoes through Calum’s mind and calms him more than any breathing technique could ever dream of.
“Hi, Luke,” Calum responds after a moment. He sees Luke shiver despite drinking hot coffee and reaches behind his shoulder for a blanket. Calum unfolds the dark red knitted throw and drapes it across their laps. “How was your loft last night?”
“Warmer than it is down here.” His words are followed by shuffling closer to Calum’s side. The sun wishes it could warm Calum like a cuddly Luke Hemmings in the morning. He watches the steam rise off of Luke’s coffee and against his cheeks. Calum wishes he could put memories on repeat because he knows this is one he’ll want to watch again and again.
“You didn’t have to get up yet,” Calum says with a gentle laugh. He drains the last sip of his coffee and sets the mug on the coffee table in front of them. Without thinking too much about it, he reaches for Luke’s left hand with his right and smiles when Luke’s fingers don’t hesitate to fall into the spaces between Calum’s.
“I’ve missed spending mornings with you,” he says, simply. Calum isn’t sure what to say in response to that and hardly any words at all come to mind as he watches Luke trace his calloused thumb across Calum’s knuckle. The songwriting Luke had mentioned to them over recent Facetime calls is basically written all over his hands.
“I’ve missed you too,” Calum decides to say after a moment. Luke turns in his seat to look more directly at Calum then. There’s a curious smile pulling at his pink lips. Questions lurk behind that smile, questions that Calum doesn’t really know how to answer yet. (He’ll probably need to call his sister again to try to figure them out. Or maybe Ashton in the days that follow this trip.) But for now, as he lifts a hand to cup Luke’s cheek, Luke’s smile softening again when he leans into the touch, it’s okay to not have all the answers.
Luke pulls away from Calum’s touch to set his mug beside the other on the coffee table. He returns only a moment later to rest his head against Calum’s shoulder. Their hands still sit joined together against Calum’s thigh. The quiet that follows as Luke’s breathing evens out is the most comforting kind that Calum has experienced in months. He feels like he should be sick of the quiet moments by now, that he should want the noise and conversation and songs that he’s sure the next several days will be filled with. But, right now, Luke’s quiet breathing and the breeze whining through a crack in one of the window frames is his favorite song and sound in the world.
Luke’s fingers loosen their grasp on Calum’s and he knows Luke is asleep again. He’s considering gently waking him up, pulling Luke to his feet and wandering them back to the other side of the house to nap in the room Calum claimed for the week. But then he hears Ashton and Michael puttering around in the kitchen, the smell of pancakes floating it’s way to where Calum sits, and he decides he’s all good here. He leans back and Luke’s sleeping body follows.
Calum has always enjoyed the little things in life. He likes how Luke’s bed head of curls tickles Calum’s nose when he rests his head against Luke’s. He likes the sound of bacon sizzling on a pan as Ashton tells Michael a story. He likes the pitch of Michael’s laugh when Ashton tells a shitty joke just because he knows it’ll make Michael laugh like that.
Calum smiles and he can’t help but think about how the little things feel so much bigger when he’s with his boys.
