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A green M&M crashes into Calum while he’s attempting to refill a bowl of fun size candy bars, and for a second he thinks maybe the candy has risen up. There’s a Halloween coup and the milk chocolate is taking a stand in the middle of Calum’s backyard. Who could blame it? Tossed into hollow plastic Jack-O-Lanterns, abused by children, consumed in mass quantities, only to be placed on clearance immediately the morning after Halloween, just because it’s wrapped in seasonally ghoulish packaging.
Fortunately, before Calum’s fight or flight reflexes kick in and he decks the M&M, it murmurs quietly, “Sorry Cal. Got no peripheral vision in this thing.”
Calum backs away enough to take in the full M&M. “Wow, Mike. Looking good. You’re really making those knee-high boots work.”
“Thanks!” Michael replies, eyelashes fluttering. “Does the green bring out my eyes?”
“They’re beautiful sparkling emeralds,” Calum confirms, digging into the bowl of candy in search of a little bag of M&Ms. “Now are you going to compliment me on how roguishly handsome I look?” He finally snags a bag of M&Ms and stares expectantly at Michael while he rips it open.
Michael looks him over, unimpressed. “You pull off orange better than most people, I’ll give you that. But I’m not sure I’d go with roguishly handsome.”
“Damn, why can’t you just hype me up. I said your eyes looked like sparkling emeralds!”
“Sorry man. You’re wearing a jumpsuit.” Michael says this as if that’s the only explanation he needs. And it probably is.
“Whatever. I’m gonna eat you now,” Calum announces, shaking his M&Ms into his palm and maliciously selecting a green one.
“You do that,” Michael says, intentionally bumping Calum’s shoulder as he pushes past him. “I’m gonna go chat up Jack’s brother.”
“Who?” Calum looks around his yard, searching for an unfamiliar face. “Is that a code name or something?”
He knows everyone here. It’s a carefully curated invite list. Obviously he knows Jack, his large and gregarious Australian neighbor with a fondness for grilling slabs of meat. They’ve gotten pretty close since Calum bought a ping pong table for his patio and started inviting Jack over to play. They recently discovered a mutual love of shitty action movies and have been spending Wednesday nights at the second run movie theater’s five dollar screenings of shitty action movies most of the world has forgotten about.
But Jack’s brother? No. Calum doesn’t know a brother. He knows Jack has at least one brother, possibly significantly more than one. He’s always talking about a brother doing something-or-other, but to Calum, Jack’s brother is a theoretical concept, as abstract to him as interdimensional time travel or genuinely enjoying a legal procedural drama on TV.
“Luke,” Michael says impatiently. “Jack’s brother. He just moved here last weekend. He’s staying with Jack until his apartment opens up.”
Faintly, Calum remembers seeing a U-Haul on the street a few days ago. “You’ve met Jack’s brother? And I haven’t?”
“He’s here,” Michael sputters. “I met him because he’s at your fucking party?”
“Huh.” Not that Calum has an issue with an expanded guest list. He just doesn’t like feeling like he has less information than Michael about the goings-on of their expanded friend group. “Luke?” Something about saying it feels nice, the press of Calum’s tongue against his teeth on the L, the way his lips purse slightly around the U, the satisfying sharpness of the K at the end. Refreshing.
Michael nods, lifting onto his toes to scan the crowd, then pointing towards the fence between Calum’s and Jack’s yards. “Over there. Can’t miss him. Huge, looks like Jack.”
Calum scans the cluster of people by the fence until he zeros in on the one unfamiliar face. He makes a strangled noise and murmurs “holy fuck” under his breath.
Michael says Luke looks like Jack, and Calum guesses maybe he does in a generic kind of way. Some shared features for sure. They definitely look related. But not all piercing blue eyes and sharp jaws are created equally. Whatever’s going on with Luke, it’s otherworldly. Looking at Luke makes Calum feel like he’s blasting into space and looking down at the earth while it’s surrounded by twinkling stars and comets and spotlighted by the moon.
Good thing he’s wearing his Rebel Alliance flight suit. He’s prepared for space travel. And so, it seems, is Luke. “Is he Han Solo?” Because if he is, Calum can’t be held responsible for mauling him on sight.
“I told you, he’s Luke,” Michael says dryly, making Calum roll his eyes in annoyance.
“You’re going over there?” Calum asks. Michael widens his eyes impatiently. “I’m coming too.”
“No! Fuck. If you come along, I’ve got no shot.” This is a refrain Michael is fond of, but it’s one he uses like a code. He’s telling Calum that yeah, he thinks Luke is cute, but doesn’t care enough to get in Calum’s way. He can probably sense Calum vibrating at an exceptionally high frequency. He’s saying it’s fine, you can have him.
“Maybe he’s into sexy M&Ms.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Michael says, sighing. “You’re basically in matching costumes. It’s fate.” He starts making his way across the yard, waving for Calum to follow him. “C’mon. Let’s get this over with.”
Calum scurries behind him, tossing the rest of his M&Ms in his mouth and chewing quickly. The closer they get to Luke, the more wonderstruck Calum feels. As he comes into detailed focus, he gets more stunning. And it’s not just the way he looks, it’s something about his energy too. It’s warm and strangely approachable for someone so beautiful, kind eyes and an inviting little smile.
When they reach Luke, he’s just finished opening a bottle of beer and has it poised against his lips. He pauses as they approach, and Michael announces, “This is Jack’s brother,” pointing at Luke with his thumb before he takes off in the other direction.
Luke blinks a few times, then gives Calum a hesitant smile. “Hi?”
“Luke, right? I’m Calum.”
Luke’s smile shifts from confused to genuine. He has mismatched dimples when he smiles, and his blue, blue, so intensely blue eyes literally sparkle. What the fuck?
“Oh hey!” Luke gestures enthusiastically at Calum’s costume, a few drops of beer splashing out the neck of the bottle onto his hand in the process, but he seems unconcerned. “A fellow Rebel! This is your party, right? Ping pong guy?”
Somehow, the fact that Luke has an Australian accent—just like his brother— is an absolute shock to Calum. He feels pretty stupid about that, but tries to cut himself some slack, because it was probably some kind of attempt at self preservation in the face of Luke’s beauty. “That’s me. Adding Rebel and Ping Pong Guy to my Tinder profile immediately.”
Luke laughs and Calum has to take a step back. Luke’s a star gone supernova. His laughter is so loud it’s almost jarring, and his face breaks into the most incredible smile—his mouth is huge, his eyes crinkle at the corners while the bright blue narrows to slits, and his teeth wink at Calum as his laugh slowly tapers into a low rumble, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
Objectively, none of this should be the best thing Calum has ever experienced. There’s nothing about a huge mouth and perfectly average teeth and a loud laugh that should be giving Calum heart palpitations and making him dizzy. Is there? Is there?
Calum feels high. Nothing makes sense but everything is great. Then, to add the cherry on top, Luke recovers from his fit of laughter to flash Calum a flirty smirk and says, “You’re lookin’ good in that orange. Is there a version of the flight suit without sleeves? I feel like you’re busting out of this thing.”
“The jumpsuit is a bit restricting,” Calum allows, striking a pose while Luke takes an incredibly long drink of his beer, swallowing several times with his head tipped back. Calum’s skin burns, but he’s an expert at playing it cool. “But you know how it is. Regulation.”
Luke nods solemnly. “That’s why I’m such a rule-breaker. My weird-ass body is not fitting into a regulation jumpsuit.”
It’s an open invitation to stare at Luke’s body, and Calum’s not about to pass that up. He looks him up and down, several times, catching Luke’s lips twitching to suppress a smile on every sweep. He’s really fucking tall, even taller than Jack, and Calum finds some joy in the novel stretch of his neck as he looks up at the blonde curls on top of Luke’s head. He almost never has to look up to see the top of someone’s head.
Weird-ass isn’t an entirely inaccurate assessment of Luke’s physical form, it’s just far from the full story. Because it’s definitely not normal. It’s exceptional. “Your proportions are probably a bit of a challenge for a jumpsuit,” Calum says, tilting his head back down to look at Luke’s long, slender legs, shapely thighs perfectly showcased in tight trousers.
He works his way up to the loose pleather holster dangling from Luke’s slim waist, then to the collared long-sleeve shirt with a deep V neck, showing off a significant amount of chest hair and collarbone, stretched tightly across Luke’s incredibly broad chest and wide shoulders, and finally to the utility vest layered over the top, fun size candy bars visibly sticking out of the many small pockets. “Slutty 70s space pilot really does wonders for them though. God.”
Luke licks his lips and smiles, small and sweet but with something a little predatory underneath it. “Wanna hold my blaster?” he offers, patting the toy laser gun tucked into his holster with his free hand.
“I thought you’d never ask.” Calum holds out his hand eagerly and Luke drops the blaster into it, some of the condensation from his beer bottle lingering on his fingers and chilling Calum’s palm on contact. “Wow. It’s heavier than I expected.”
Luke smirks. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
Calum smirks right back. “How’s your aim? An impressive blaster doesn’t mean much without the skill to back it up.”
“Trust me, I know how to use it,” Luke says, swiping the toy out of Calum’s hand and executing a fancy little finger spin before sticking it back in his holster. It’s more impressive than it has any right to be. It’s a fucking plastic gun. But seeing Luke move his hand like that, confident and quick and—
“Jack didn’t tell me you’re hot. He went on and on about the goddamn ping pong table to get me here. Not a word about your biceps or your swoony smile.” Luke shakes his head in a dramatic, long-suffering sort of way, and it makes Calum smile. Swoonily, he hopes. “Probably on purpose. Fucking older brothers.”
“Michael said you’re staying with him?”
“For a couple weeks, yeah,” Luke says, shuffling closer to Calum to let Ashton pass behind him, his Princess Leia bikini reflecting gold light onto Luke’s cheeks. Luke doesn’t back away once the coast is clear. “The apartment I’m moving into isn’t available until the first of the month so I’m annoying Jack in the meantime.”
“Does that mean you’ll be joining us for Man Action Wednesday?”
“For what?” Luke asks, an amused wheeze punctuating his words. “I mean, yeah, if you’re inviting me to something called Man Action Wednesday, I’m definitely doing that. But also…what?”
“The discount theater shows shitty action movies every Wednesday night. Jack and I have been going and calling it Man Action Wednesday.”
“Oh I’m definitely doing that,” Luke repeats, nodding enthusiastically. “Love a shitty action movie. And man action. Sounds like I can’t go wrong.”
“You do understand that the man action is in the movie, right? It’s not a separate event.”
Luke grins, delighted Calum is giving him shit about it. “I get that’s the intended interpretation, yes,” he replies smoothly. “But I’m optimistic about my chances for separate man action as a direct result of going to the movie.”
Of course he is, the beautiful little shit. It doesn’t come out cocky though, more like he’s making fun of himself by saying it at all. Annoying that he’s so good at flirting by thinking he’s bad at flirting. He emphasizes his point with another long drink of beer, eyes on Calum the whole time.
“Are you drunk or are you just always this charming?”
Luke sputters around the beer bottle, laughing and wiping his chin. “Are you?”
“Not yet. But I’m thinking I might like to be.” Mainly because if he gets drunk enough, maybe he’ll kiss Luke.
“I might like to be too,” Luke says, nodding, eyes boring into Calum’s soul. “I don’t usually get the chance, you know? I can’t just get drunk and then hop in the Millennium Falcon to fly home.”
“That’s true,” Calum agrees. “That’d be very irresponsible of you. But since you’re staying next door…”
“Are you trying to peer pressure me, Calum?” Luke’s dimples flash and Calum’s mouth goes dry.
“Just trying to make sure you have fun at my party. I’m an extremely invested host.”
Luke tilts his chin up and peers at Calum through narrowed eyes, fighting a smile the whole time. “Mhm, I can tell. You really know how to make the new guy feel welcome.”
“You made a good first impression,” Calum says with an easy smile. “Not everyone gets invited to Man Action Wednesday after one conversation.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Is it?”
Luke shrugs, plucking a tiny Snickers bar out of his vest pocket and somehow ripping the top open with one hand. Weirdly, this gives Calum a pleasant little hot flash. “Felt pretty special getting asked to Man Action Wednesday with the swoony Rebel pilot. It’d be disappointing if I was just another in a long line of Han Solos you’ve invited to your homoerotic movie ritual with my brother.”
He says all of this with an exceptionally straight face and serious tone, and Calum bursts into laughter. Pleased, Luke takes a bite of his Snickers bar, pausing to smile winningly before he chews.
“You’re the first,” Calum says, looking Luke directly in the eyes even though it’s really goddamn difficult when his eyes are so bright and sparkly. “Wanna ditch the beer and get something a little stronger?”
Luke’s eyes light up as he swallows, lips pulling into a wicked grin. “Definitely.” In one smooth motion, he tips his head back and takes down the remainder of his beer with impressive speed, and Calum contemplates why he’s finding literally everything Luke is doing so incredibly sexy. Is he just that easy for a pretty face?
No. It’s not just Luke’s pretty face. It’s everything. Luke came to Calum’s Halloween party as the man of Calum’s dreams.
🍫🚀 🎞️🧂🔥
It started with a couple shots of tequila, and now somehow Calum and Luke are performing a burlesque-style dance to Monster Mash for a crowd of exactly zero. They’re the only ones who care, laughing breathlessly as Luke lip syncs along with the main vocal line and Calum pipes in with the back-up vocals and some accompanying Rockettes-style kicks.
“No, you gotta stand up straight! No hunching over!!” Luke exclaims, interrupting his performance to do a little kick demonstration for Calum, his fake blaster bouncing precariously against his hip.
Calum attempts to emulate Luke’s technique, only to immediately feel his hamstring protest on his first kick. “Ow! Shit, that’s harder!” He tries again, this time keeping his kicks much lower, while Luke continues to easily bounce his legs into kicks twice as high next to Calum, all the while giggling at Calum’s struggle.
“Oh fuck off,” Calum complains, wrinkling his nose and giving up on his kicks. “How are you so flexible? That can’t be natural.”
Breathless now, Luke doubles over with his hands on his thighs, shaking his head. “I took a modern dance class my last semester of uni. Just needed something to finish off my hours, and it sounded fun. I forgot everything I learned, but I’ve kept up with the stretching.”
“Clearly.” Calum can feel the smile stuck on his face growing wider while he watches Luke catch his breath through his laughter. “You’re kinda strange, you know that?”
Luke huffs out an amused wheeze. “I’m very aware.”
“It’s really hot,” Calum says, eyes dancing over Luke’s face.
“Is it?” Luke arches an eyebrow, but he doesn’t really seem surprised, a hint of a smug smirk on his lips.
Calum shrugs. “It is to me.”
It’s one of the truest things Calum has ever said. Looking at Luke, tipsy in his Han Solo costume with his gorgeous face and adorable laugh and huge shoulders, wiggling his hips along with Monster Mash, Calum genuinely can’t believe he’s a real person.
“So um,” Luke says, eyes giddy and sparkling, “This Man Action Wednesday thing.” Calum nods in encouragement. “It sounds rad and I definitely want to do it, but…would you ever entertain the possibility of going to a movie that’s not Man Action Wednesday? With me? Just me?”
“No Jack?” Calum prods with a teasing grin, reaching out to pluck a fun size Twix out of Luke’s vest pocket and using it as an excuse to get in a little grope, hand squeezing gently against Luke’s chest.
Luke places his hand over Calum’s, bigger and warmer and so carefully assured in its movements. “No Jack. But this—the fondling—is fine,” he says, leaning into Calum’s touch, mouth tilted into a crooked smile as he talks out the side of his mouth. “Encouraged, even. Perfect movie night activity.” Something about it is so fucking hot that Calum nearly drags Luke inside by his blaster holster to have his way with him.
“I want you in so many ways,” Calum says, laughing a little at his own boldness. It’s the tequila talking, but he doesn’t care. He’d probably have said it eventually even without the tequila. Luke’s just too tempting for him to be normal or sane about it.
Luke’s smile doesn’t falter, but he does gulp at Calum’s words, giving him away just a little bit. “So that’s a yes on the movie, then?”
“That’s a yes,” Calum confirms, hooking his finger in Luke’s vest pocket and dragging him closer until he can whisper in Luke’s ear. “Maybe afterwards you can show me your blaster skills.”
He backs off to open his Twix, watching Luke with bright eyes as he peels the wrapper. In a flurry of movement, Luke snatches the Twix from between Calum’s fingers and holds it against his lips. “A little preview for you,” he murmurs, promptly slipping the Twix between his lips and proceeding to work his tongue around it very thoroughly. Very, very thoroughly, with a wicked little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Calum might actually be in love with him.
🍫🚀 🎞️🧂🔥
Calum might actually be in love with him.
The next day, in the harsh light of the sun, no sugar rush or Monster Mash or tequila or slutty 70s costumes to cloud his vision, Calum realizes exactly how bad this could be for him.
He is dangerously infatuated with Jack’s brother, a man he has known for approximately four hours.
He knows nothing about Luke’s relationship history. Nothing about how Luke might treat a boyfriend or how they might work together long term. But his stupid brain and his stupid hormones don’t give a flying fuck. They’ve just decided that Luke is perfect and Calum needs him and there is no such things as consequences.
Luke comes over and rings Calum’s doorbell, even though they could just as easily have met outside by Luke’s car. He may not be dressed like Han Solo anymore, but it might be even more spectacular seeing him out of a costume, because he’s not any less appealing in striped trousers and a leather jacket than he was as a 70s space slut. And in fact, it gives Calum a chance to see actual Luke, what he chooses to wear and how he chooses to present himself, and that…that’s its own kind of heartache.
Because it’s this mix of hard and soft, glamorous and casual, effort and indifference. Glittery eyelids and scuffed Converse.
“Wow,” Calum says, looking up at Luke standing in his doorway, a slightly shy but mostly excited smile on his incredibly pink lips. “I didn’t think it could get better than the Han Solo costume, but here we are.”
Luke shakes his head, stuffing his fingers in his pockets and rocking on his heels. “Did you get intel from Jack on this look or is it just a happy coincidence that I have a weakness for skater boys?”
“Happy coincidence,” Calum says with a winning smile. “But I’m not actually a skater boy. Just a fan of their aesthetic and commitment to comfort.” He wiggles his legs so his baggy cargo pants swish loudly and Luke laughs, bottom lip catching between his teeth.
“Bet you could fit another person in there with you,” Luke says, jerking his head towards his car, parked on the street right between Calum’s and Jack’s mailboxes. “Maybe if this goes well we should give it a try later.” He tosses a sweet but mischievous smile at Calum over his shoulder, dimple popping in his cheek, and Calum is so, so gone. Suddenly he understands the reality of the phrase weak in the knees, because he’s struggling to stay upright on the walk to Luke’s car.
He does manage to smile back, transfixed by the blue of Luke’s eyes in the sun and the way his curls hug the bottom of his ear and hook upwards to brush along that deep dimple. “If you want to get in my pants, that’s a standing offer. You don’t need a ruse.”
Luke laughs as he opens the passenger door for Calum and jogs around to the driver’s side. “What if it’s not a ruse? Maybe I really want to know if my hypothesis about your trousers is correct.”
“Hypothesis,” Calum repeats, swinging himself into the seat of the car, coming face to face with Luke settling in behind the wheel. “That’s very fancy. What are you, some kind of genius mad scientist or something?”
“That’s generous,” Luke says through a choking laugh, buckling his seatbelt and regarding Calum with glittering eyes. “I just have an interest in scientific method when it means I get to feel up a hot guy.”
“How did you just show up next door?” Calum asks disbelievingly, staring at Luke’s bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he pulls out onto the street. “That’s not real life. This is some kind of fantasy. I’m in a coma or an elaborate simulation.”
Luke laughs, deep and raspy, and offers Calum a small shrug. “I could ask you the same thing. Although I probably should’ve guessed there was a reason Jack was so insistent about me coming along to your party.”
“It was a set-up?”
“I think so. A very sneaky one.”
“Am I your type, then?” Calum asks, flashing Luke a cheeky grin and reaching for the volume knob to turn up the Nirvana song currently soundtracking their drive. “Jack knew immediately you wouldn’t be able to resist me?”
Eyes on the road, Luke smiles guiltily, shoulders crunching up around his ears. From this angle, the curls at the base of his neck call to Calum, quietly urging him to touch. To pull. To thread his fingers through while he kisses Luke intensely.
Oblivious to Calum’s inner turmoil, Luke says, “You’re not just my type. You’re, like…the template.”
Is he for real? He seems sincere. A little shy about it, even. But that can’t possibly be true. There’s no way Calum is obsessed with a guy who genuinely thinks Calum is the template. It’s too easy. Things like that don’t happen in the real world.
They spend the movie being insufferable. It’s some new Marvel movie, and it has no chance of holding Calum’s attention when Luke is sitting next to him, the sleeve of his jacket pressing up against Calum’s arm, fingers brushing Calum’s occasionally when they both reach into their shared bucket of popcorn at the same time.
It starts with meaningful looks at each other in the dark when something ridiculous happens on screen. Then it escalates to muffled giggles following every meaningful look. By the middle of the movie, it’s full-blown, shoulders-shaking laughter. It’s a good fucking thing the theater is nearly empty and they’re sitting in the back corner, far away from anyone else.
Luke curls in on Calum when he laughs, like he’s trying to contain his laughter between their bodies. It’s so fucking cute and it makes Calum feel like he’s a part of something incredible. Being an active participant in Luke’s laughing fits is probably all Calum needs to survive.
It also makes him so, so aware of Luke’s closeness. He’s within reach, and Calum desperately wants to latch on. He decides to go with a hand on Luke’s thigh, which is maybe a little bold, but that’s exactly how Luke makes him feel. Luke’s response is a pleased sigh, resting his hand on top of Calum’s, head dropping against Calum’s shoulder so his soft curls tickle Calum’s cheek.
“I really like you a lot,” he whispers in Calum’s ear with a giddy lilt.
Good thing, since Calum has pretty much been in love with him since they first met. He feels pretty foolish about it, too. If one of his friends came to him and said I think I’m in love with a guy I met tonight, Calum would tell them to get fucking real and get their head on straight before doing something stupid.
Yet here he is.
Falling hard and fast for Jack’s brother before they’ve even made it through their first date.
It’s hard to worry about it, though, when Luke’s pressed against him, happily telling Calum that he likes him a lot.
That’s not all he says, either. He keeps whispering in Calum’s ear, a smile in his voice through comments like been thinkin’ about you in that orange jumpsuit constantly and I wanna bite your biceps so bad. Silly things that he delivers with a hint of laughter, but Calum loves it so much.
It’s the combination of the goofiness, the not taking himself too seriously, with the self awareness and confidence to actually say these things at all. Calum’s never met anyone who embodies that specific combination of traits and it’s driving him a little wild in all the best ways.
As soon as the end credits start to roll, Calum grabs Luke’s hand to pull him out of his chair, Luke whining, “What if there’s something after the credits?” while Calum drags him toward the door.
“Whatever it is won’t be worth waiting half an hour,” Calum defends, even though Luke is smiling and trotting to catch up with him, clearly unbothered. “You can read about it on the internet. I need to kiss you. Among other things.”
“No complaints here,” Luke says jovially. “Do whatever you want with me. Kiss me. Fold me up like a croissant. Crack my back like a glowstick.”
Calum bites his lip over a fond smile. “You’re so fuckin’ weird.”
“Just the tip of the iceberg, mate.” Luke flashes Calum a mischievous smile as he opens the car door. It sends a pleasant shiver up Calum’s spine. There’s just something about that smile. A delicious promise tucked inside a candy wrapper.
🍫🚀 🎞️🧂🔥
Calum is antsy on the drive home, foot tapping against the floor mat. His finger is on the button to release his seatbelt before Luke’s car is fully stopped on the street between their houses, but he hesitates, frozen in his seat after Luke turns off the car, dumbfounded when he catches Luke’s profile framed by the sunset coming through the window.
“Well?” Luke says, pushing his hair back off his face. Oh god. Is Calum dreaming? “Aren’t you gonna invite me in? I’d ask you to come back to Jack’s with me, but you know…Jack’s there.”
“Yeah, I definitely want you to come in. I just realized you’re probably the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen and you’re going to let me touch you. Had to take a second to process that.”
Luke laughs sharply, breath catching in the middle of it. “For the record, I’m having a moment like that myself, but I was trying to play it cool.” His bottom lip catches between his teeth while he looks Calum over with a glint in his eye. “Did it work? Was I convincing as cool guy who isn’t intimidated to invite himself to the sexy Rebel pilot’s house?”
“I’m not sure I can accurately judge your performance when I was distracted wondering what it would feel like to run my fingers through your hair.”
“Well then,” Luke says, a pleased, crooked smirk on his face, “Let’s go inside and you can find out.”
While Calum unlocks his front door, Luke hovers next to him, shuffling his feet from side to side. Calum loves the way it feels having Luke standing next to him, close enough to feel his physical size but also the gentleness of his aura, like being wrapped in a very sexy blanket.
“You want a drink or something?” Calum asks, pushing the door open. “A snack? I probably still have a bunch of Halloween candy from the party.”
“No snacks necessary.” Luke’s eyes sweep over Calum head to toe. He meets Calum’s eyes as he shrugs off his jacket and rests it on the back of the couch. Calum gets an eyeful of Luke’s incredibly broad shoulders and chest stretching out his T-shirt, the sleeves straining against his arms to try to accommodate his wide back. “Wouldn’t say no to some tequila if you’ve got it, though.”
Calum scoffs and beckons for Luke to follow him to the kitchen. “Have I got tequila?” he mutters, shaking his head while he reaches into his cabinet for shot glasses, hesitant to take his eyes off Luke for even a second. “I can do you one better. Check in the fridge, there should be some lime slices on the top shelf.”
“Really? Rad!” Luke’s voice is so sweet and eager it’s almost painful.
Calum smiles, listening to Luke rummaging around in the fridge while he pours two shots. “Salt by the stove,” he instructs, spinning around to grab the container of lime slices from Luke as he passes. “We do it right around here.”
Salt shaker in hand, Luke zeroes in on Calum with dark eyes, eyebrows raised with his free hand outstretched, lips quirked up in a lopsided smirk. “Then let’s do it right.”
His fingers are warm around Calum’s wrist, eyes unwavering while he lifts Calum’s hand toward his lips. Calum’s skin burns hot and he can’t stop the evil little smile that spreads across his face. Luke’s tongue slips out of his mouth and drags over Calum’s skin slowly, leaving a trail along the tattoo over his thumb. Calum’s stomach flips and his mouth falls open, lips parting needily while he watches the spectacle.
Luke hums a little as he grabs the salt and shakes some onto Calum’s hand, a melodic growl that makes Calum’s skin tingle pleasantly. Finally, he plucks a lime wedge out of the plastic container and holds it out with a soft smile. Christ. Calum has no choice but to open his mouth further, letting Luke carefully push the lime between his teeth until it’s secure.
Eyes heavy, Luke picks up one of the tequila shots between his thumb and forefinger and raises it in a quick toast. The lime rind is a godsend. It’s nice for Calum to have something to sink his teeth into when Luke leans down again to lick the salt off his skin. Calum’s stomach twists into knots, feeling Luke’s pink lips and pink tongue on his hand and thinking of all the other ways he’d like to feel them. Luke tosses back the shot quickly, not even a flinch, then wraps his big, warm hand around the back of Calum’s neck to pull him close, capturing the lime between his teeth.
His lips brush against Calum’s as he bites down, and Calum’s hands automatically grip Luke’s hips tightly, anchoring him there until he’s sucked the juice from the lime. When he pulls away, a few drops of juice dribble onto Calum’s bottom lip. That’s exactly where Luke’s eyes land as soon as he drops the lime into his empty shot glass. He makes a hungry sound and surges toward Calum, tongue poking out to lick the juice off Calum’s bottom lip before he sucks it into his mouth eagerly.
Calum groans and staggers against him, letting Luke suck and bite his lip until he can’t stand it anymore, catching Luke’s mouth in a bruising kiss, fingers bunching in the soft cotton of Luke’s shirt. He sweeps his tongue over Luke’s, chasing the tantalizing taste of lime.
A little mmm slips out of Luke’s mouth and he grabs Calum’s hip roughly while his fingers drag through the curls on the back of Calum’s head, fingernails just barely scratching his scalp. Everything inside Calum is screaming for more.
“Do you want your shot?” Luke asks in a low, raspy breath, teasing his mouth along Calum’s jaw and down the side of his neck. With every touch of his lips, every warm brush of his tongue, Calum feels a twinge of unbridled want roll through him.
“Just want you,” he replies, using his hold on Luke’s waist to lead him toward his bedroom, leaving his tequila shot on the counter.
🍫🚀 🎞️🧂🔥
With the fire pit on Calum’s patio roaring, it’s warm enough for them to sit outside just wrapped up together in a blanket, bare shoulders brushing while the crackling fire paints shadows across the patio and ignites flickers of electricity in Luke’s eyes.
Every time Calum looks at him, he finds something new to get irrationally fixated on, whether it’s the specific ripple of his hair in the breeze or the way the tip of his nose glows in the warm light. Luke feels almost blurry like this, a softer, more subdued version of what Calum has seen of him before. Maybe it’s just because he’s quiet. Even when he speaks, it's low and soft, just for Calum to hear.
Whatever chemicals are running through Calum’s blood right now, he’s never felt better. But the fact that he feels so fucking good right now is exactly why his brain is screaming at him not to get too comfortable. Not to let himself get carried away.
He lets out a deep sigh and Luke looks at him curiously, soft blue eyes encouraging Calum to speak his mind.
“Here’s the thing,” Calum starts, wondering how he’s supposed to deliver this little speech with Luke next to him looking like a dream. “I’ve been a little in love with you since we met, and it’s only getting worse—” Luke chuckles quietly while Calum continues, “—and I’m, like, dangerously invested in this already. I don’t want to keep fucking around and letting you make me fall in love with you if it’s just a fun little fling for you. Hooking up with your brother’s neighbor for a few weeks until you move out and move on, that kind of thing.”
“Does it seem like that’s what this is to me?” Luke asks earnestly, eyes darting over Calum’s face in search of an answer from Calum’s expression alone.
Maybe he’s finding it. Calum tends to wear his heart on his sleeve. “I don’t have a fucking clue. It doesn’t feel that way right now, but I barely know you. How can I trust my own opinion of you? Maybe you’re really good at faking it.”
At that, the spell breaks and Luke bursts into a fit of loud laughter, throwing his head back and scrunching his eyes shut, high pitched wheezes escaping from between his unbearably pink lips while his shoulder shakes against Calum’s. “Sorry,” he says, wiping at his eye with his blanket-covered knuckle while he catches his breath. “It’s just that I have, like, no chill when it comes to this kind of thing. I’m over here worrying that I care too much and I’m coming on too strong and scaring you off, and meanwhile you’re worrying I’m not as invested as you are.”
“So you think you are…invested?” The sense of relief washing over Calum is making him feel manic.
“I—yeah?” Luke stammers, sounding on the edge of manic himself. “I’m definitely not just fucking around with you until I move out of Jack’s. I’m in pretty goddamn deep.”
Calum really, really wants it to be true. No. Calum knows it’s true. He can see it in Luke’s eyes. “How do I know you’re for real?” Calum prods, offering Luke a teasing smile.
Luke shakes his head vigorously. “Nah, don’t do that to me. Don’t make me beg you to believe me. Because I absolutely will. I’m not above begging at all. But I’d really rather you didn’t see that side of me until at least our third date.” He looks over at Calum and smiles, drowning Calum in bright blue from behind the curls dipping into his eyes.
“I do believe you,” Calum says. “I meant literally. Are you real? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you directly interact with anyone else since we met. Are you a figment of my imagination?”
With the tiniest, most delighted little smile, Luke wonders, “How many times are you going to ask me that?”
“As many as it takes for me to believe it. Could be a while,” Calum tacks on meaningfully.
Luke opens his mouth like he’s going to protest, but then his lips press together in a flat smile and he murmurs out the side of his mouth, “Then I guess you’re just gonna have to stick around and find out.”