mmmmmasterlist :p
đď¸ Code Overload Pt. 1 | Caleb
đď¸ Code Overload Pt. 2 | Caleb
đď¸ Blizzard? | Caleb
đď¸ It makes me smile. | Caleb
đď¸ YOU. | Caleb
đď¸ Sunburn; Part 1, Part 2 | ZayneCaleb

Andulka
One Nice Bug Per Day
Cosmic Funnies
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open


romaâ
todays bird
sheepfilms
trying on a metaphor
NASA
đŞź

Janaina Medeiros

PR's Tumblrdome
DEAR READER
hello vonnie

Product Placement
styofa doing anything

blake kathryn
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Italy

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Spain

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Italy

seen from United States
seen from United States
@chanelrolls
mmmmmasterlist :p
đď¸ Code Overload Pt. 1 | Caleb
đď¸ Code Overload Pt. 2 | Caleb
đď¸ Blizzard? | Caleb
đď¸ It makes me smile. | Caleb
đď¸ YOU. | Caleb
đď¸ Sunburn; Part 1, Part 2 | ZayneCaleb

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
did you write the moth house?
yes, yes i did!
blowgun
! synopsis: in an interrogation, the colonelâs arrogance pissed you off more than anything else. to mock him at least, you decide to give his gun a blowjob... ! tags: nsfw, mdni, colonel!caleb, bratty!reader, powerplay, dubcon themes, dead dove themes, gunplay, use of a baton, oral (m!receiving), manhandling, creampie, swallowing, a closeted perv!caleb ! wc: 3.4k
you sat alone, wrists bound with sleek magnetic cuffs that glinted under the light of an unfamiliar chamber. your hair had fallen loose from the standard tie, clinging to your cheek. dust smeared along the sleeve of your clothes, a remnant of the chase that led you here.
then, the colonel entered.
tall, meticulous, draped in regulation black. silver insignias gleamed on his collarbone, catching the sterile light. he simply shuts the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment, watching you. âyou're not listed in any fleet registry, so either someone went through a lot of trouble to scrub you cleanââ he reached into the inner lining of his uniform and retrieved a slim baton. âor you were never meant to be here in the first place.âÂ
your breath hitched, but your face didnât change. he twirled the baton in his fingers - slowly, like a man spinning thought between his hands - before he drifted behind you. âyour infiltration logs were brilliant, iâll give you that,â you felt the baton before you saw it, its cool metal brushing lightly against the curve of your neck. it was just there, ghosting over your pulse.Â
âwho are you?â his voice was close now, just right behind you, coaxingâas if he already knew, and was waiting for you to admit it.
you tilted your chin to say, âyou first.âÂ
he then gave a low hum, a smirk with an imperceptible huff. the baton dragged lightly down the side of your throat, trailing warmth in its absence.
âwatch your mouth.â
arrogant bitch.
you cursed inside your head. the baton slid lower a breath along your collarbone, light enough to be mistaken for air. âyou stole a signal that doesnât exist on official channels,â he whispered, a lulling edge to the end. âyou replied to something that no one shouldâve been able to hear.â
the baton stilled, resting just at the base of your throat. you could feel its weight, you could feel his weight and the full press of his attention, sharp and absolute. then he leaned down that you could feel the surface of his lips ghostly brushing against below your ear. it made you want to shiver. âwho sent you?â
you let the silence stretch, let it fester. his question lingered in the air between you, still clinging to the metal baton resting against your skin. then, you snickered. a sharp, cruel thing. like a blade dragged across velvet.
âyou talk too much,â you turned your head as much as the restraints would let you, and your eyes met his over your shoulder, unapologetic âyou wear all that black like itâs meant to scare me, but iâve seen even more prettier things rot.â
you smiled faintly, before moving just a sudden shift, a sharp buck of your knees and a jerk of your shoulder - but enough to make the chair scrape against the floor, to make him step back out of instinct. you twisted hard, trying to unbalance yourself, maybe break the armrest, maybe dislodge something sharp.
but before you could even move again, his hand was on your shoulder. âyou're not being clever.â he leaned down. the baton tapped once, gently, against your temple. âyou don't need to bury your fear under your sleeve, i've broken better masks than yours.â
and then, slowly, he stepped around you, back into view. and from his hip he drew the gun. polished, regulation-issue sidearm, matte black and loaded. he didnât point it at you, nor did he try to threaten. he simply turned it over in his hands, admiring it and kneeling down, until you were face to face.Â
he lifted the gun, deliberately, and tilted the barrel so it rested beneath your chin. the touch was featherlight. âdo you know what makes me dangerous? itâs not this.â then came a gentle tap against your jaw with the muzzle. âitâs that i never need to use it.â he tilted his head, eyes dragging across your face like he was dissecting it.Â
âbecause i know someone like you folds easily.â
there's a pause, long enough to stretch. long enough for you to feel the weight of it all, his breath, the barrel, the words that still clung to the air like smoke. but you refused to flinch. instead, with the slow calculated tension of someone whoâs been waiting, you twist your wrists. the cuffs groan in response, before...Â
a snap!
metal splits with a screeching crack, and before the sound even finishes ringing out, you instantly moved. only your hands can though, as your ankles are also trapped. your fingers wrap around his wrist and wrench the gun from his hand, trained.
he lets you, strangely. he lets you drag the muzzle up, up, up - until itâs basically pressing into your own lips, eyes locked with his like a dare. âyou could put this in and pull the trigger, but i still won't talk.â
colonel caleb smirks, standing up without breaking eye contact. after a slight pause, he twists your wrist in an abrupt flicker to take the gun back between his fingers, and then, âsure, i will.â he says, right before forcing the gun into your mouth.Â
this catches you off guard, making you squirm on your seat and grip on the armrests. you could feel how the barrel of his gun is pushing your mouth lpen just to adjust to its size. though it wasnât fairly big, the absurdity of the gesture only seemed to humiliate you.Â
you watch him stare down at you. why wasn't he saying anything? you watch how his eyes were slowly turning lazy, a ghost of an uncharacteristic smirk forming between his lips.Â
the cold metal of the barrel stretched your lips wide, a blunt and intrusive presence that tasted of oil and gunpowder. you let out a muffled, indignant sound, your throat working as you tried to accommodate the intrusion. your hands gripped the armrests so hard your knuckles turned white, eyes wide and flashing with a mixture of shock and mounting fury. you expected the sting of a slap or the bite of a blade, but whatever this shit is far more humiliating.
is this typically how the colonel treats problems?Â
caleb didnât pull back. he stayed close between your thighs, gaze heavy and unblinking as he watched you struggle. he looked less like an interrogator and more like a man watching a beautiful, trapped bird flutter its wings in vain. âwhat happened to all that fire?â he asked, âyou were so ready to bite, werenât you?â
he leaned forward, his weight shifting as he used his free hand to tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. with a slow movement, he pushed the muzzle deeper. it wasnât a violent shove, but a commanding pressure that forced your jaw to unhinge just a fraction more. the metal slid past your teeth, only pressing against the sensitive flesh of your tongue.Â
âthere she is,â he murmured, a ghost of a laugh catching in his throat as he saw the way your eyes narrowed into a fierce glare from beneath the heavy lid of your lashes. âthe little rebel. you look so much more... compliant... when you can't find the words to insult me.â
you tried to snarl, to let out a defiant sound, but it only came out as a choked hum against the steel.Â
âhmmgh!â you glared at him from below, eyes burning with a silent promise of retribution, but the effect was lost on him. instead of intimidation, your fury seemed to feed his amusement. he watched the way your lips strained around the gun, the way your breath came in shallow, ragged puffs.
âdonât look at me like that,â caleb teased, the thumb of his free hand tracing the curve of your lower lip, just where the gun met your skin. âunless you want me to see just how much of this you can take before you start begging.â he gave the gun another slight, teasing nudge, testing the limits of your endurance. âyeah? youâd hate that, wonât you?â
absolutely.
you had reached your limit. the humiliation was a bitter taste, second only to the oil on the barrel, and your patience snapped like a frayed wire. in a sudden burst of movement, you lunged forward, hands flying up to grasp his wrist. you intended to shove him back, to reclaim the space he was so brazenly invading, but the colonel was obviously a man of iron and discipline. his grip on the sidearm only tightened, the metal clicking as his fingers braced against the frame. his brow furrowed, a stern frown settling over his handsome features.
âenough,â he warned, voice dropping into a low register that signaled the end of his patience. âstop this theater, or iâll stop being gentle. donât complain when i decide to pull the trigger right now."
the threat should have made you recoil. it should have sent a tremor of terror through your limbs. but as you stared up at him, the sharp edges of your glare began to melt. you didnât see a killer; you saw a man. a man who was far too comfortable in his dominance, a man who relied on the fear of his shadow to keep people in line.Â
if he wants to play the colonel, then you might as well play the siren.
your hands, which had been trying to push him, suddenly softened, as your fingers curled around the solid shaft of the gun. you leaned into the metal, eyes losing fury and replacing it with a hooded liddedness. then, with a deliberate grace, you began to suck on the barrel.Â
you bobbed your head in a rhythmic, mesmerizing motion, lips sliding over the steel as you looked up at him through your lashes, your gaze a sultry challenge.
caleb, the man who had been so dominant, so utterly in control, froze. his eyes widened, the pupils dilating until the dark iris was nearly swallowed by black. his breath hitched, an audible intake of air that betrayed the sudden jolt to his system. he was speechless to say the least.
whoâs in control now?
while you maintained the facade of the seductive captive, your mind was working a different kind of magic. beneath you, hidden by the shadows and the intensity of the moment, your ankles were in constant motion. you worked the metal of the locks, twisting your feet, feeling for the mechanism, trying to find the slight give in the heavy restraints.Â
and you kept the rhythm steady, your eyes never leaving his, watching the way his composure began to fray at the edges. caleb was fighting a losing battle; you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his throat worked as he swallowed hard, trying to suppress the pained expression that was threatening to break through his mask of authority. the stoic colonel was drowning in the image of your lips on his weapon, and the hunger in his eyes was no longer just about information.Â
but then...
âso...â he finally spoke, his voice a gravelly, strained shadow of its former self. âthis is the real game youâre playing? you arenât here for the signal... youâre here for this?â he challenged, his gaze burning into yours âare you so desperate for a taste of something real that you'd settle for my gun?â
abruptly, he pulled the gun free from your mouth. the sudden absence of the metal left your lips feeling cold and strangely empty. you watched, mesmerized, as a glistening thread of saliva stretched between your bottom lip and the muzzle, a silver line that shimmered in the dim light before finally snapping. he didnât look at you as he set the sidearm aside on the table with a thud.Â
âif you are so eager to satisfy that hunger,â caleb murmured and reached for the waist of his trousers, âthen use the real thing, hm?â his fingers caught the tab of his lower zipper, and the sharp zzzzzzt of the metal teeth parting sounded like, to you, a threat.Â
the sheer audacity of the gesture hit you like a physical blow. your composure, the carefully constructed mask of the seductive prisoner, shattered instantly. a soft, broken gasp escaped your lips, but no words followed.Â
what the hell? you had expected him to fall for it, but not like this.
you wanted to look away, to reclaim your dignity, but you were like a moth drawn to a terrifying flame.
caleb let his buttons part, and with a triumphant smirk, he revealed himself. your breath immediately hitched, caught in the back of your throat as you stared.Â
he was massive, an angry, twitching red, incredibly hard and straining with a life of its own, the veins standing out in sharp relief against his skin. there was already a bit of pre-cum leaking out the tip. says a lot about how long heâs been rock hard for you. the sight was overwhelming, making you feel small, vulnerable, and achingly aroused despite yourself.Â
âgo on,â caleb commanded, âsuck it. that's an order.â
you swallowed hard, the dryness in your throat making the movement feel clumsy. for a moment, the old defiance flared up again, a desperate attempt to reclaim the high ground. you tilted your head back, eyes narrowing into that sharp glare again as you looked up at him. âis this what a colonel does? is this how you conduct an interrogation?â
caleb takes a heavy step forward, closing the distance until he was looming over you. he reached down to catch your chin in a rough, uncompromising grip that forced your face upward.Â
âshow some respect.â
âiâm not... iâm not going to suck that.â you tried to pull your chin away, to turn your face in a final act of rebellion, but he was too fast.
âthatâs okay,â a slow smile spread across his lips as he swiftly pulled your jaw back to his gaze again. âbecause iâm going to make you.â
you opened your mouth to launch a scathing rebuttal, to tell him exactly where he could shove his arrogance, but the words never made it past your lips. because with a powerful lunge, caleb suddenly guided himself forward, sliding his thick, pulsing cock straight into your mouth! the sheer size of him was overwhelming, stretching your lips to their absolute limit and forcing your jaw to unhinge as he buried himself deep. âhmmph!â an involuntary moan escaped you, muffled by the heavy weight of him.
caleb let out a ragged sigh of relief, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief second as he savored the tight, wet heat of your mouth. he didnât move to pull out; instead he stayed there, his free hand reaching out to give your cheek a playful caress. âbe a good girl,â he whispered, eyes narrowing. âand take it well.â
and then, just like that, the colonel started to thrust, thrust, and thrustâhis hips moving in a cadence that drove him deep into your throat! his other hand braced against the back of your chair, knuckles white as he tried to anchor himself, using the furniture to leverage the force of his movements. while you were forced to bob your head in time with him, eyes watering as you struggled to accommodate the relentless pounding of his manhood.
meanwhile, caleb was a moaning mess above you, his voice a breathless thing. âthatâs it... j-just like that.â he grunted, words stumbling over one another as he forced you to keep up with his punishing pace. âsuck it dry... donât you dare stop...â he was trying to command you even now, but the cracks in his countenance were widening with every thrust.Â
so this is the great colonel. all that black leather and discipline, and all it takes is a little bit of heat to turn him into a mess. if he wanted to lose control, you were more than happy to facilitate it.
instead of just taking him, you decided to take him apart. you squeezed your lips tightly around the length and began to twirl your tongue around the rim in a slow, agonizingly deliberate circle. you immediately felt the way his entire body jolted at that.
ângh...!â caleb let out a loud, guttural grunt, his hips slamming into your mouth now with a desperate, uncoordinated force. he leaned into you so heavily that you had to tilt your head back at a sharp angle just to keep from being crushed, your neck straining under the weight of his need.Â
he was so damn loudâthe man who prided himself on silence and discipline was now making sounds that were almost animalistic.
âgod... youâre such a... a good girl.â he gasped, the compliment sounding more like a plea than a praise. âso good... keep doing that... please...â
his hand, which had been caressing your cheek, suddenly migrated upward to tangle his fingers deep into your hair. he formed a tight fist, his knuckles grazing your scalp as he anchored your head in place, forcing you to stay exactly where he wanted you. his eyes were squeezed shut so tightly that wrinkles formed at the corners.
he felt so good from your blowjob that he had to bite his lower lip hard, teeth sinking into the flesh while a series of rough groans tore from his throat.Â
seeing him so close to the edge, feeling the way his fingers trembled in your hair, you decided to drive the final nail into the coffin of his composure. as you continued to work your mouth over him, you reached up, hands sliding around the base of his thick shaft. you began to stroke him, palms slick with your own saliva.
and because of that, caleb fucking chokes on his own cries, loud enough to echo in the chamber. he was panting heavily now, chest heaving as he looked down at you with eyes that were glazed and unfocused. âyou... youâre a little devil,â he trembled, leaning down further. âa natural... a goddamn natural at this...âÂ
then, the dam finally broke.Â
with a shuddering jolt that racked his entire frame, caleb erupted.Â
he surged forward, his hips slamming against your face as he spilled himself into your mouth in thick, hot, unending bursts. the sheer volume of it caught you completely off guard! instinctively, your body recoiled, head jerking back to escape the overwhelming sensation, but he was still coming, still squirting and shooting toward you.Â
you felt the hot liquid splashing against your cheeks, coating your lips, and even spraying across your chest. there were too much!
caleb slumped forward, his hands slamming onto the back of your chair to steady himself. he was gasping for air, his head hanging low as he fought to reclaim his breath.Â
you slowly looked up at him, eyes wide and blinking through the stray droplets on your lashes. you didnât want him to know that your mouth was full because of the heavy, salty taste of him coating your tongue. but you wanted to say something to mock him, to reclaim your victoryâyou couldnât you were too busy trying to manage the sheer amount of him currently occupying your mouth, cheeks bulging slightly, hesitant to let it go.
you watch caleb finally lifting his head, clearing his eyes to regain even a sliver of balance as he stared at you.
âswallow it.â
instantly, you shook your head. you werenât going to make it that easy for him, especially not after heâd just made such a spectacle of himself.
calebâs eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint returning to his gaze. he leaned down, his presence once again overwhelming. âpick a struggle. either you swallow it right now, or iâm going to make you turn around.â
you didnât have time to process the sheer audacity of his command before the instinct to obey or perhaps the instinct to avoid the even more humiliating alternative took over. you tilted your head back and swallowed, the thick, warm liquid sliding down your throat in one heavy gulp.Â
ugh.
you nearly coughed, eyes watering as you fought to keep the rest of him down.
âsatisfied now?â you glared at him once more.Â
and the colonel could only give you a dog-like smile, zipping his pants back into place while he turned his broad back on you.Â
âmore than satisfied.âÂ
he retrieves the gun from where heâd place it down earlier, facing you again.
âuntil next time?â
fuck no.
Sunburn Pt. 2
pairing: zayne, caleb x afab!reader
synopsis: they spent years pretending they had already healed from each other, only to discover that some things donât fade that easilyâthey linger beneath the skin, warm and aching, waiting for one summer to burn all over again like a sunburn. !! please read part 1 to understand the plot
tags: nsfw content, slowburn, plot-based, post-college reunion, family reunion, love triangle, yearning, unresolved feelings, mutual pining, sexual tension, nostalgia, childhood friends, growing up, masked party, ghostface, card games, domestic tension, stuck in the attic scene, angst, pilot!caleb, doctor!zayne, corporate manager!reader, reader caught in the middle, âwe never really moved onâ, all roads lead back to you, mfm threesome, tw: blood-sucking, dubcon themes, sandwiched, nicknames, oral (m!receiving), backshots, p in v, size difference, loss of virginity, overstimulation, creampie, roughness, manhandling, mdni!Â
wc: 21k
the funny thing about growing older is that nobody really warns you how quiet it becomes.
itâs the kind of quiet that slips into your life so naturally you barely notice it at first. one day you are eighteen, sitting cross-legged on your bedroom floor while your cousins chase each other downstairs and then somebody burns barbecue outside during a friday gathering. and then suddenly, without realizing when it happened, you are twenty-five years old answering emails in the evening while eating convenience store pasta over your office desk.
life did not become bad, but it simply became scheduled. you learned how to live by calendars now, by meetings and reports and client dinners. your phone buzzed more often from work than from friends these days, and your closet slowly filled with silk blouses, neutral heels, and fitted office dresses instead of oversized hoodies and school event shirts.Â
sometimes, you missed how easy everything used to feel. other times, you were grateful it no longer did.
âyouâre thinking again.â you blinked and looked up from your untouched drink. across the table, your colleague and closest friend from work, tara, narrowed her eyes at you knowingly beneath the warm restaurant lighting. around the two of you, friday night chatter filled the rooftop bar while city lights glittered far below the building.
you laughed quietly. âiâm literally just sitting here.â
âexactly,â tara replied. âyou only get that existential look when you start thinking about life.â
you rolled your eyes and finally took a sip from your drink. it tasted expensive and barely alcoholic, which felt very fitting for the kind of establishment your coworkers liked frequenting after successful presentations.
you leaned back into your chair with a sigh, letting their voices blur together briefly while laughter continued around the table. honestly, they werenât wrong. the past year had been exhausting. being a corporate manager at your age sounded impressive on paper until people realized it mostly involved sleeping too little and carrying everybody elseâs problems on your back, while pretending you had everything under control.
still, you liked the work, the independence, knowing you built this version of your life yourself. your phone buzzed suddenly beside your drink, bringing your eyes to it.Â
itâs the family groupchat.Â
your younger cousins were apparently spamming blurry photos from their movie night at your auntâs house. one picture showed three of them wrapped together in blankets while another was just an aggressively close image of pizza. you smiled despite yourself.
tara noticed instantly. âfamily?â
âyeah.â you shook your head. âmy cousins.â
âthe little kids?â
ânot little anymore,â you murmured.
that part still felt strange too. the youngest cousin who used to cry over scraped knees now posted dance covers online and borrowed makeup from you occasionally. another had recently started driving lessons. they were all growing too fast, stretching taller and louder and more complicated each year while you somehow stayed stuck remembering them as children.
maybe adulthood was just constantly realizing time moved without asking permission first.
â
the invitation arrived on a random tuesday night while you were half-awake in bed, still wearing your work blouse and scrolling mindlessly through your phone after answering one last email. you almost ignored it, thinking it was just another notification buried between work group chats, promotional messages, and missed calls from relatives... but then your eyes caught familiar words.
senior high alumni homecoming.
you blinked once. now you were fully awake.
the invitation opened into an elegant digital poster washed in dark navy and gold, far more sophisticated than anything your old student council couldâve designed years ago. beneath the formal lettering sat the event details neatly arranged across the screen. the venue, the date, the dress code... and then, at the very bottom saysâ
costumed masquerade theme.
you stared at the word longer than necessary. for some reason, it made your chest feel strangely light. below the poster, old batchmates were already reacting in the comment section.Â
it had been years. years since senior highâsince crowded hallways and sports festivals and summer evenings that felt endless back then. life after graduation moved too quickly for everyone. college separated people, and careers scattered them further. friendships became birthdays greeted through instagram stories and occasional âwe should meet soonâ conversations nobody had time to fulfill.
and yet, this invitation felt like somebody opening an old bedroom window after years. all at once, the memories from before drifted back in quietly.
you sat up against your pillows, phone glowing against the dark room while the city outside your condo windows stretched endlessly beneath the midnight sky.
would it really feel the same? you doubted it.Â
everyone was older now, real adults. people had careers, licenses, responsibilities, and probably relationships too. the thought made something inside you shift faintly. still, despite yourself, excitement curled somewhere in your chest.
you imagined seeing your old classmates again after all this time, imagined hearing familiar voices you hadnât heard in years, briefly becoming younger again just by standing in the same room together.
it sounded nice, dangerously nice. which was exactly why you hesitated.
for the next few days, the invitation in your phone stayed unanswered. you kept reopening the poster during work breaks only to lock your phone again afterward. every time someone new confirmed attendance, your curiosity deepened a little more.Â
you were grocery shopping with your mother beneath painfully cold supermarket air-conditioning while your mother pushed the cart slowly through the produce aisle, occasionally handing you random items to place inside.
you trailed beside her absentmindedly while checking your phone again, seeing someone had just sent another reminder poster.
âthree weeks left before the masquerade reunion!â
your mother glanced at you briefly. âwhat are you staring at?â
ânothing,â you answered.
she hummed suspiciously before tossing oranges into the cart. âyouâve had that same expression since yesterday.â
âwhat expression?â
âthe one you get when youâre thinking too hard.â
you looked down at the invitation again. you could almost picture it alreadyâold batchmates rediscovering each other beneath adulthood and years apart.
it felt like an invitation back to youth, just for one evening.
before you could overthink yourself out of it again, you accidentally pressed the attendance button.
confirmed.
your mother blinked when you suddenly looked so petrified. âwhat happened?â
you slipped your phone into your pocket. ââŚi think iâm going to a party.â
and thatâs it.Â
the night of the alumni homecoming arrived wrapped in gold lights.
the convention center occupied almost the entire upper floor of the hotel, glowing warmly behind towering glass windows while valet attendants guided cars beneath the entrance canopy downstairs.Â
...you didnât expect for the party to be this well-prepared and budgeted. from outside alone, the event already looked far more elegant than anything your old batch could have afforded years ago. adulthood really did strange things to peopleâapparently one of those things included having enough money to rent out ballrooms and pretend everybody had always been this sophisticated.
you stood before the large mirrored elevator walls one last time before stepping out onto the event floor.
you decided to dress as catwoman. the costume had started as a joke between you and tara during a late-night online shopping spree. but now, beneath the hallway lights of the hotel, you almost regretted how good it actually looked on you.
music pulsed through the ballroom doors ahead as hotel staff welcomed arriving guests. the moment you stepped inside, warm lighting and noise swallowed you whole.
the venue was enormous! massive chandeliers reflected gold across glossy floors while alumni crowded around cocktail tables beneath dim ambient lights, meanwhile the dance floor already held clusters of people as servers carried trays of drinks through the crowd.
and everywhere, everyone wore masks. beautiful, elaborate, confusing masks. half the challenge of the reunion seemed to be figuring out who anybody actually was. some people wore elegant masquerade masks while others committed entirely to themes and costumes dramatic enough to make identification nearly impossible. every few seconds, somebody somewhere would suddenly shriek after recognizing an old batchmate.
thinking about it, it was kind of genius. years changed people enough already, so hiding everyoneâs faces behind masks only made the nostalgia feel stranger.
for a moment, you simply stood there near the entrance taking it all in. years ago, something like this wouldâve overwhelmed you almost immediately. itâs too loud, too crowded. too many social expectations pressing against your chest all at once. but adulthood had apparently beaten professionalism into you. now, instead of panicking, you simply adjusted your clutch beneath your arm and moved forward calmly into the crowd.
look at you.
a functioning adult...sort of.
time moved strangely inside the venue, though.Â
one moment you were laughing over old classroom stories and forgotten teachers, and the next you were standing beside an open bar while somebody from your old literature class passionately explained why he quit law school to start a cafĂŠ business instead. everywhere you looked, old versions of people kept appearing beneath unfamiliar adulthood.Â
it felt a little like opening a time capsule only to discover everything inside had learned how to breathe on its own.
you drifted further into the venue eventually, drink balanced loosely in your hand while conversations came and went around you in fragments. the ballroom had grown warmer now from the amount of people filling it. for once, you allowed yourself to enjoy it. to exist inside this strange overlap between who you used to be and who you became.
âdo you think calebâs actually here?â
huh?Â
your steps slowed. it happened so naturally your body reacted before your mind did.
âoh my gosh, wait, is he? did anyone see caleb?â
caleb.
the name landed against your chest with quiet, terrible familiarity. for a second, all the noise around you dulled.
instead of turning around, you stood near one of the ballroom pillars with your fingers tightening subtly around your glass.
âi think he is,â another woman answered excitedly. âsomeone said the guy wearing the nightwing costume might be him!â
...of course caleb was here. why wouldnât he be? it wouldâve been more strange if he wasnât here. the realization should not have unsettled you this much after all these years, and yet suddenly your chest felt oddly tight beneath the fitted black fabric of your clothes. because if caleb was here... then, is the other also here?Â
your thoughts stopped themselves before fully forming the name.
...zayne.
something you tried your best to bury after all these years... now had been brought up to the surface. itâs pretty naive of you to think that this wouldn't happen one way or another tonight, right?Â
you stared blankly toward the moving crowd ahead while your pulse shifted unevenly somewhere beneath your ribs. it had been years since you last saw either of them properly, years since that unbearable summer, years since tangled confessions and emotions too large for any of you to handle correctly at eighteen.
years since you walked away.
would they look different now? what if you ran into them tonight? what exactly were you supposed to say after all this time? the thought alone made heat creep faintly up your neck.
you were no longer teenagers. no longer those messy, emotionally reckless kids orbiting around each other beneath suburban summers and friday night gatherings.Â
adulthood had happened already, surely time had done its job. surely they had moved on.
âhonestly,â one of the girls behind you continued with a laugh, âi still canât believe i dated him.â
you blinked.
another voice groaned. âyou dated caleb and survived? tell us everything.â
dated.
the word echoed unpleasantly inside your chest.
âoh please,â the girl laughed again. âit wasnât that dramatic. we broke up because of distance after graduation. he was already flying all over the place for training back then.â
flying?
ah, right.
your parents did let you know a year ago that he had become a DAA pilot. somehow hearing it spoken aloud made the years feel even more real.
âheâs gotten more ridiculously handsome though,â another added. âif heâs really here tonight, maybe this is your chance to get back together.â their laughter then blurred afterward beneath the music.
you stood still for one second too long, before looking over your shoulder to see the face of the girl caleb had apparently dated.
did he really?
pfft, of course he did. why wouldnât he?
he was caleb. the golden boy turned golden man. the kind of person people naturally loved. and yet, the image still unsettled something quiet and unpleasant inside you. before memory could drag you any further backward, you immediately resumed walking deeper into the ballroom.
enough.
your heels clicked steadily against polished floors while you lifted your chin and forced yourself through the crowd again. you refused to let old emotions creep back into your chest this easily after everything.
you were not eighteen anymore. you were a grown woman nowâone who handled negotiations, presentations, and difficult people for a living. for godâs sake, you paid taxes and managed teams and owned matching dinnerware now.
get yourself together.
whatever existed between the three of you belonged to another lifetime already. tonight was only a reunion. nothing more.
you tried to shake the feeling off afterward. really, you did.
deciding you needed something sweetâor maybe simply a distractionâyou wandered toward one of the longer dessert tables situated near the center of the venue. unlike the crowded cocktail area, this side of the ballroom felt calmer. at the center of the table, a large chocolate fountain cascaded endlessly downward in glossy ribbons.
okay, maybe adulthood never truly erased simple joys.
the fountain looked ridiculously good. you grabbed one of the small dessert cups from beside the table and leaned slightly forward, carefully positioning fruit skewers beneath the flowing chocolate. the scent of cocoa drifted warmly upward.
for a brief moment, you relaxed again.
and thenâthat feeling returned. just enough to make the back of your neck grow strangely aware. you straightened slightly, fingers tightening around the dessert cup as you sensed someone standing nearby behind you. not close enough to be inappropriate, but close enough to feel deliberate.
your eyes lifted instinctively...
to a man dressed in a nightwing costume stood only a few meters away, dark domino mask shadowing his face while he casually held a drink in one gloved hand.
tall, broad shoulders, dark hair. even the postureâ
oh my god.
your entire body went rigid beneath your clothes.
shit. that had to be caleb, right?
your mind raced embarrassingly fast while the man remained completely unawareâor at least seemingly unawareâof the internal crisis currently unfolding beside the chocolate fountain.
okay, you were an adult. a very functional adult. this was not high school anymore. if that really was caleb, then the correct thing to do would obviously be acting normal. mature and emotionally unaffected. you absolutely refused to look like somebody still hung up on old teenage history years later.
hesitantly, you cleared your throat and turned toward him fully.
the man finally glanced up from his drink.
god, why did he still feel familiar even after all this time?
forcing composure into your expression, you offered him a polite smile. ââŚhey, caleb, howâve you been?â
for a few long seconds, the man simply stared at you.... strangely.
his silence stretched enough to make heat slowly creep up your neck beneath the mask. behind the dark lenses of his nightwing costume, his expression looked almost alarmed, like you had approached him with deeply concerning information instead of a simple greeting.
your confidence began deteriorating immediately. why did he look so confused?
a horrible thought then crossed your mind all at once.
did caleb seriously forget about you now?
no, that was ridiculous! surely not to that extent. before you could spiral any further into your own embarrassment, the man finally spoke.
ââŚiâm not caleb.â
the ballroom lights shifted overhead at the exact same moment, finally illuminating his eyes properly through the mask.
hazel brown, not purple.
oh.
how did you even make that mistake?
âah,â you muttered beneath a short embarrassed laugh. âiâm sorry, i thought you were somebody else.â
he really looks a lot like caleb...
the man stared at you for another second before chuckling lightly into his drink. âwell, now iâm curious. you looking for caleb?â
you frowned. âno,â you answered perhaps a little too quickly. âi just thought you were... him.â
âah.â the man nodded knowingly in a way that irritated you slightly. then he casually added, âi heard he wasnât able to attend anyway because of his schedule.â
your fingers loosened around the cup. âis that so,âÂ
âyep, something work-related, i think.â
that made sense. pilots probably werenât exactly known for stable schedules.
the strange tightness lingering inside your chest eased just slightly afterward. maybe because uncertainty felt worse than disappointment somehow. at least now there was an explanation, a clean one.
he simply wasnât here.
you nodded politely. âwell, thank you anyway.â
the man raised his glass toward you. âgood luck finding whoever youâre actually looking for.â
you gave him one last embarrassed smile before immediately turning away. jesus, what an unbelievably humiliating interaction.
as you walked deeper through the ballroom again, you tried forcing yourself not to think about it too much. honestly, maybe it was better this way. you wouldnât have to worry about awkward reunions or unresolved history suddenly resurfacing. caleb wasnât here. and if caleb wasnât hereâthen maybe zayne wasnât either.Â
you continued moving through the venue with quieter steps, eventually drifting toward the grand staircase leading upstairs to the hotelâs lounge area. unlike the crowded ballroom below, the upper floor looked dimmer and more intimate.
except, there was a crowd gathered near the lounge entrance.
you slowed, watching the way people stood clustered together around one side of the room, several guests leaned against the railings trying to peek through the gathering, while others whispered to each other with visible amusement.
your brows furrowed. what exactly was happening up there?
curiosity carried you upstairs before caution could stop you. most of the crowd, however, seemed gathered around one particular table near the center of the lounge. you stepped closer carefully, weaving between guests until the scene finally came into view.
a proper poker setup occupied one of the longer tables, cards scattered beneath the amber lighting while chips piled carelessly around half-finished drinks. several masked alumni sat around the table already looking halfway defeated.
and seated among themâwas ghostface.
itâs not the ridiculous halloween-store version. this one looked⌠unfairly good.
instead of the long black robe usually associated with the mask, the man wore fitted black clothing that sharpened the broadness of his shoulders and arms, dark fabric stretching cleanly over muscle before disappearing into grey baggy jeans that somehow made the whole look even more attractive. black gloves covered his hands while the ghostface mask itself showcased its expression permanently frozen into that eerie open-mouthed grin.
you folded your arms while lingering near the edge of the crowd, attention slowly drifting toward the game unfolding before you.
âthatâs like his sixth win already.â
âno seriously, this guyâs terrifying.â
soft laughter circled around the table, and the ghostface man only leaned back slightly in his chair, cards resting between gloved fingers with suspicious ease.
you watched another round unfold. and unfortunately, they were right. he was good, very good.Â
he played patiently, almost lazily at times, like he already knew how each round would end before the others did. every movement looked deliberate, the way he shuffled chips, the way he held cards. even the way he sat there silently while everyone else talked too much.
you narrowed your eyes beneath your mask. okay, that irritated you.
because for as long as you could remember, you had always been good at card games. most especially poker. annoyingly good, according to several cousins and former classmates who stopped agreeing to play against you years ago. and now this ghostface man was sitting there collecting victories like he owned the table, so your competitiveness stirred before you could stop it.
you remained watching for another minute, then another.
the ghostface player revealed another winning hand.
âoh come on,â someone complained loudly. âthis guyâs impossible.â
through the mask, ghostface only tilted his head in amusement.
that did it.
before you could reconsider, you stepped forward through the crowd. âcan i play too?âthe moment you stepped closer to the table, several heads turned toward you at once.
years ago, that amount of attention probably would have made your stomach fold into itself. you used to hate moments like this in schoolâthe sudden awareness of eyes, the fear of saying something awkward, the feeling of being perceived too closely.
unlike everyone else who only glanced briefly your way, the ghostface guy seated across the poker table looked up at you and⌠stayed there.
one second, and two, and three.
his mask revealed absolutely nothing, which somehow made it worse. the frozen expression carved into ghostfaceâs face remained permanently unreadable while he simply stared at you in complete silence.
you resisted the urge to fidget beneath his attention.Â
why did that suddenly feel intense?Â
âis that okay?â you finally asked, gesturing toward the empty chair. âor am i intruding?â
for a brief moment, ghostface remained motionless. thenâas though suddenly realizing he had been staring too longâhe leaned back and nodded once.
âit's okay.â
your breath caught.
that voice...
you narrowed your eyes even more beneath your catwoman mask while slowly taking the seat across from him.
his voice is dangerously familiar, not enough for certainty, but just enough to disturb you. you settled into the chair anyway while the others around the table perked up at the possibility of fresh entertainment.
âoh thank god,â somebody groaned dramatically. âplease humble him for us.â
âseriously,â another added. âthis guyâs been robbing everybody blind.â
ghostface said nothing. he only lowered his gaze back toward the cards in his hands while the dealer reshuffled for the next round.
thankfully, once the game resumed, the mask itself stopped being distracting surprisingly quickly. maybe because ghostface rarely lifted his head fully while playing. most of the time, his attention remained lowered toward the table, gloved fingers handling chips and cards with calm precision.
the first few rounds unfolded carefully. you played cleanly, watching your opponents more than your own cards while the lounge buzzed around you. years of corporate meetings had apparently sharpened your poker face because some of the players folded too early against you. ghostface, however, remained annoyingly difficult to read. his movements were too controlled, too measured.Â
you frowned while studying him across the table.
the game had somehow become quieter around the two of you, in the sense that your attention had narrowed toward the man seated across. somewhere along the way, the others around the table stopped mattering. it became a strange tug-of-war existing only between you and ghostface.
and annoyinglyâhe really was good.
the current round had gone sideways faster than you expected. one by one, the other players folded until only the two of you remained at the table, chips scattered between dim amber light and half-empty glasses.
you leaned back in your chair while mentally rearranging possibilities.
shit.
ghostface had cornered you beautifully.
your fingers tapped once against your cards while you forced yourself to think. if you folded now, youâd lose the round entirely. but if you pushed too aggressively and guessed wrongâugh. your ego genuinely would not survive losing to this stupid masked man, especially not in front of an audience.
across the table, ghostface remained infuriatingly calm. it made you bite against your lower lip while studying the chips, trying to search for another angle, another bluff, another opening somewhere inside the round.
come on. think!
you glanced upward absentmindedlyâthen immediately looked back downâbefore your eyes snapped upward again.
because ghostface was staring at you.
... very openly.
his elbow rested against the arm of the chair while his gloved fist supported the side of his face, posture almost lazy beneath the dark clothing. yet despite how relaxed he looked, the attention directed toward you felt sharp enough to press against your skin.
and unlike beforeâhe did not look away. it's like he knew exactly what position he had cornered you into and wanted to watch you struggle through it.
fine.
you stared back.
the lounge lights shifted overhead while the two of you remained suspended in this strange silent challenge across the poker table. the longer you looked, the more your eyes adjusted to the thin dark material shadowing the eyeholes of the ghostface mask.
and then, you saw them.
purple eyes...
faintly obscured beneath black fabric and low lighting, but unmistakably purple. for one horrifying second, your mind blanked completely.
wait. how common even were purple eyes? no, that wasnât the correct question. how rare were they?
your pulse stumbled unevenly while you stared at him, but ghostface remained motionless, watching you. those purple eyes continued to pierce into your soul. now, the mask felt less anonymous than before.
your gaze dropped quickly back toward the cards in your hands.
donât get distracted.
it did not matter who this man was. it did not matter why his voice sounded familiar or why his eyes looked dangerously recognizable beneath that mask. right now, there was only one thing that mattered:
you were winning this round.
you inhaled slowly and forced yourself to think again. and thenâlike a spark suddenly catchingâyou saw it. a narrow opening hidden beneath the way ghostface had structured the round. risky but possible.
slowly, you reached forward and pushed your chips inward. the table quieted, and ghostface tilted his head at your bold move.
someone nearby muttered, âoh this is evil.â
you finally lifted your gaze toward him again.âcall,â for the first time all night, ghostface hesitated. it was barely noticeable, but very much enough.
the reveal came seconds later.
âno way.â
âfinally!â
got you.
after being cornered for nearly the entire round, somehowâsomehowâyou managed to turn it around against him!
the moment your win settled in, the lounge around the table reacted instantly.
âshe actually did it,â one of them laughed.
âour man got humbled,â another added, half incredulous.
you could feel the attention return to you again, lighter this time, less intimidating than before. your shoulders eased beneath the catwoman mask as you offered a small, polite smile. and then, you turned your attention back across the table toward ghostface. âthat was a good game,â you smiled a bit wider. âyouâre really good.â
that was a fact.
he didnât respond though.Â
ghostface remained perfectly still, head tilted slightly downward as if studying you through the black void of his mask. the silence stretched just long enough to feel intentional, like he was weighing something he had no intention of sharing with anyone else in the room.
you couldnât read him, not even a little. then, after a beat too long, he lifted his hands and gave a slow, lazy clap.
once... twice... thrice.
âcongratulations, miss poker,â he said at last.
you held his gaze for a second longer than necessary, because his mannerisms bothered you. itâs the tilt of his head, the stillness between movements, and even the way he spoke felt like something your memory almost knew but couldnât fully grasp.
a familiar ghost of familiarity.
you swallowed the thought before it could form properly. instead, you let out a small breath and returned a light smile. âthanks,â you replied casually, as if none of this lingered beneath the surface.
you pushed back your chair and stood, smoothing yourself as the crowd began shifting around you again, some still talking about the game while others moved on to their own conversations. excusing yourself politely, you stepped away from the table, and as you walked past ghostface, you felt his presence remain still behind you. but you didnât look back.
you weaved through the lounge crowd toward the hallway, heels clicking against the floor. you needed a moment where your thoughts didnât feel like they were circling something you couldnât name.
the nearest restroom sign came into view at the end of the corridor. it was blissfully quiet compared to the lounge outside.
the moment the door closed behind you, the noise of the party dulled into distant vibrations through the walls, softened enough for you to finally exhale properly.
you reached up and removed your mask. âugh,âÂ
finally.
cool air brushed against your skin almost instantly, easing the slight warmth that had gathered beneath the mask throughout the night. for a moment, you simply stood there staring at your reflection in the mirror, fingers adjusting loose strands of hair that had shifted during the evening.
after using one of the cubicles, you washed your hands slowly beneath warm water, your thoughts inevitably drifting back toward the lounge outside.
toward... the ghostface guy.
your brows furrowed faintly at your own reflection, thinking about how... everything about him felt familiar. not just one specific thing, but everything. and then there were those purple eyes.
could it really beâ?
no. the nightwing guy downstairs already said caleb wasnât here. besides, years had passed already so people changed. maybe you were simply projecting old memories onto strangers because tonight had dragged too much nostalgia out of you all at once.
that had to be it.
you shut the faucet off firmly and shook the thought away before it could root itself any deeper.
it was just a man in a mask. nothing more.
composing yourself again, you slipped your mask back on and headed toward the restroom exit. except the moment you opened the door and stepped back into the hallway, your footsteps stopped completely.
someone stood just outside the womenâs restroom.
him.
the one you were thinking about just now.
he leaned lazily against the wall several feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of his grey jeans while one boot rested loosely against the baseboard beneath him.Â
you blinked once.
did he follow you here...?
ghostface only turned to you and stared back silently.
you abruptly cleared your throat, forcing politeness back into your expression before the silence became strange. âare you waiting for someone?â you asked with a small smile.
ghostface tilted his head slightly at your question. after a pause that lasted just long enough to make your chest tighten again, he answered quietly, âyeah, i was.â voice muffled enough beneath the mask.
you tilted your head at him, still trying to keep the conversation light despite the strange tension gathering in the hallway. âthereâs nobody else in the womenâs restroom,â you pointed out gently. âwhoever youâre waiting for isnât there.â
ghostface stayed leaning against the wall for another second as he chuckled, low and dangerously familiar. âreally?âÂ
your breath caught immediately.
there it is. that stupid laugh. warm, teasing, and unfairly boyish beneath all the black fabric and broad shoulders. the sound hit you harder than recognition should have, crashing straight into old summers, friday nights, basketball courts, laundry afternoons, and eighteen-year-old heartbreak all at once.
this is... caleb.Â
you knew it now.
the hallway felt even more unbearably narrow around the two of you.
you wanted to run, to run before you lose whatever careful distance you spent years building between yourself and the past. âwell,â you said carefully, âyour ex isnât anywhere nearby either. sheâs downstairs.â
for the first time since you stepped outside the restroom, ghostface, or rather caleb, looked genuinely confused. ââŚmy ex?â he repeated slowly.
you nodded once, trying to sound casual despite the heat climbing beneath your skin. oh god, you immediately decided this conversation needed to end before your dignity dissolved entirely. clearing your throat again, you stepped forward and gestured politely toward the hallway. âanyway, excuse meââ
you brushed past him. or at least, you tried to.
ây/n.â
you stopped, and the silence afterward felt strangely loud. slowly, you turned back toward him. and for some reason, the fact that he didnât call you pips or pipsqueak or those silly childish names anymore lingered in your chest.
of course he didnât. you were adults now, after all.Â
grown people with careers and separate lives and years between you. maybe those childish nicknames belonged to another version of him entirely, another version of the three of you. maybe this only proved what you already suspected downstairsâthey had moved on now. and maybe you were the only one still haunted by old things.
no, that wasnât true either.
you werenât clinging to the past. tonight only dragged it back into your hands unexpectedly. that was all.
your gaze lifted hesitantly toward him again just as he finally moved. slowly, he reached beneath the collar of his black shirt and pulled something free from underneath the fabric, revealing a dog tag necklace with a tiny apple charm attached near the chain.
itâs the one you gave him years ago when you were still taller than him as kids. he had laughed so hard back then. you remembered the exact sound. and nowânow it rested against the black fabric of his chest like something treasured too carefully for too long.
so he still had it after all these years.Â
âitâs me, dummy,â he says.
yeah, you knew.
maybe not the moment you first saw him near the poker table. but somewhere between the voice, the eyes, the way he stared too intensely, and the unbearable familiarity wrapped around every little mannerism he hadâyou knew.
your hands curled quietly into fists against your sides, because now that caleb was standing here in front of you after all these years, your body suddenly remembered too many things at once. âi know,â you murmured. âyou always make things obvious.âÂ
deep down, you missed him. you missed caleb. standing this close to him again made something ache inside your chest.
you wanted to hug him, the kind where your face disappears into someoneâs shoulder and years melt apart for a moment. and, now that you're thinking about that, you also somewhat hoped to see zayne around here and do just exactly that.
but adulthood had taught you restraint in places where younger versions of yourself used to act freely. so you stayed still.
caleb watched you carefully for a beat before fully turning toward you, one shoulder lifting lazily against the wall. âhowâd you know it was me?âÂ
you let out a small huff through your nose, âi just do.â
that answer silenced him only briefly, but enough for you to notice. something shifted in his posture before he straightened fully, removing the ghostface mask completely with one hand.
and thereâthere he was.
he wasnât the boy you remembered anymore, but a grown man.
caleb had always been handsome in that effortless, bright sort of way people naturally felt attracted to, but adulthood sharpened him into something almost unfair. his features had grown more defined over the years, jaw stronger now beneath the dim lighting, cheekbones sharper, even the bruises of exhaustion beneath his eyes somehow added to it instead of taking away.
he knew that too.
you could tell by the way he leaned casually against the wall afterward, completely comfortable inside his own skin. his grin tugged crookedly. âthere she is, thought maybe corporate life killed your personality already.â
you only smiled back. âyouâre the one dressed like a murderer at a school reunion.â
caleb barked out a laugh, warm and genuine. the sound echoed softly down the hallway.
âthere she is,â he repeated quieter this time, almost to himself. you pretended not to notice the way his eyes lingered on you as he slipped his hands back into his pockets. âso howâs your family? your mom still forcing everybody to take leftovers home after gatherings?â
you smiled faintly despite yourself. âyes.â
âand your cousins?â he continued. âthey still following you around like ducklings?â
you chortled at that. âtheyâre teenagers now. they barely acknowledge my existence.â
âthat's tragic.â
you shook your head, still smiling. but somewhere in the middle of the conversation, something settled strangely inside your chest. caleb kept asking about everyone else, your family, your cousins, your parents. everything surrounding your life exceptâ
you.
he never asked how you were. that tiny omission lingered heavier than it should have.
if this was how caleb acted now, then maybe he really had moved on already. maybe years were enough to soften whatever existed between the three of you back then, enough to turn obsession into memory and memory into something manageable. adulthood had a way of doing that to people, didnât it? sanding sharp feelings down into old stories you only revisit every once in a while.
maybe caleb was normal now, maybe he had loved someone else already. maybe he went through heartbreaks and hookups and whole relationships himself while you stayed tucked away in a corner of his past like an old neighborhood photograph.
you swallowed and forced yourself not to linger too long on the thought. âwhat about you?â
caleb looked up. âwhat about me?â
âhowâve you been all these years?â
for a second, something flickered across his face. surprise maybe. as if nobody had asked him that sincerely in a long time. he grinned again, slipping back into that familiar warmth he wore so naturally. âgood, been very busy you know.â
âwow, incredibly detailed answer.â
he laughed under his breath. âi mean, what dâyou want me to say? i fly planes now. half my lifeâs in airports. i drink too much coffee. sometimes i forget what country iâm in.â
âthat sounds mildly concerning.â
âitâs called occupational hazard.â his eyes stayed on you while he spoke, and it made something inside your chest feel unsteady in a way you hated noticing.
caleb still looked at people too directly.Â
he continued talking afterward, telling you random pieces of his life in fragments. about long-haul flights, ridiculous passengers, getting stranded once because of weather conditions, and his coworkers apparently thinking he had anger issues because he got into arguments too easily.
âthat partâs believable,â you muttered.
âoh, shut up.â his grin remained, but thinner now somehow. âi miss our neighborhood though,âÂ
the words were simple, but something about the way he said them made your stomach tighten faintly. he didnât say he missed home, he didnât say he missed being younger. he just said he missed the neighborhood.
you looked at him carefully, trying to understand what exactly he meant by it. or maybeâwhat exactly he was trying not to say.
caleb mustâve noticed your stare lingering too long because he straightened and gave you another crooked grin, this one almost sheepish beneath all the confidence he usually carried. âanyway,â he clears his throat, âi should probably stop hiding in hallways before people think iâm actually kidnapping women tonight.â he steps away from the wall afterward, clearly about to leave.
but before he could, you stopped him.Â
âhowâs zayne doing?â
caleb halted mid-step, and you watched it happen in real time.
the subtle dimming in his eyes, the way the looseness left his shoulders, as his smile slowly weakened at the corners before disappearing entirely. something restrained passed across his expression so quickly you almost missed it, held-back and quiet in the way real emotions usually were.
your brows knitted faintly together. for a second thereâhe looked like someone trying very hard not to let something show.
but the switch quickly flipped.
his smile returned so naturally that, if you werenât looking directly at him moments earlier, you probably wouldâve missed the crack entirely. âheâs good. a successful doctor now. annoyingly successful, actually.â
that sounded like zayne.
something inside you eased hearing it from caleb himself. you didn't doubt zayneâs successâyou already knew what he became years ago through mutual acquaintances and scattered updates from familiesâbut hearing caleb say it aloud made it feel more real.
you nodded. âthatâs really good to know.â
caleb only hummed.Â
but then, unexpectedly, he steps closer.
the movement was so unexpected that your body nearly reacted on instinct, feet threatening to retreat backward against the hallway floor. except you stopped yourself midway, tilting your head up at him instead with quiet confusion.
he was close enough for you to notice the faint shadows of exhaustion beneath his eyes, close enough to catch the subtle scent of cologne mixed with something colder, cleaner.
your pulse stumbled once when caleb looked down at you before his hand slowly lifted.
and then, he patted your head.
it wasnât really a pat, though.Â
his fingers lingered.
they slid gently into your hair near your temple, brushing softly through the strands beside your ear before trailing lower down your shoulder with unbearable slowness. the touch felt absentminded on the surface, almost affectionate in a casual way, but there was something underneath it that made your body go completely still, something that lingered too long to mean nothing.
his eyes softened almost imperceptibly while his fingers slipped away from your hair. âyou really grew up,â his voice had changed again, less teasing. âno longer the little scatterbrain i used to know.â
his hand dropped back to his side afterward. âyou donât have to worry about zayne too much, youâll see him soon anyway.â
you blinked. âwhat?â
so he really isn't here, then?Â
caleb tilted his head. âgrannyâs birthday. did they tell you yet?â
your mind stalled for half a second before realization hit.
oh right, grannyâs birthday. the same granny who practically raised entire neighborhoods through force-feeding and unsolicited life advice. miraculously, this year, her birthday landed on a friday.
âshe wanted everyone together again,â caleb continued. âsame setup as before.â
you stared at him. âoh, you and zayne are going?â
caleb looked almost offended by the question. âof course we are,â he said. âitâs granny.â
â
the hotel lights had long disappeared behind you, now swallowed by distance and the slow quietness of the road.
your mind remained back there somehow, back in that hallway with caleb.
you sat behind the steering wheel with one hand loosely resting against it, the other drumming near the gearshift as the city lights blurred past your windows in streaks of gold and white. the catwoman mask had already been tossed carelessly onto the passenger seat beside your purse, abandoned the moment you got into the car, but the rest of the costume remained annoyingly intact against your skin.
you suddenly understood why actresses always complained about tight outfits during interviews. you adjusted uncomfortably in your seat while stopping at a red light, your thoughts drifting back unwillingly toward caleb again.
his smile. that stupid dog-like grin he gave you before disappearing back into the crowd with a âiâll see you around, y/n,â
no longer pipsqueak, huh.
your grip tightened lightly against the wheel. you should stop thinking about him.
before your thoughts could spiral any further, your car suddenly jerked faintly beneath you, making your brows furrowed. then the engine made a strained clicking sound.
once, twice, before it died.
ââŚyouâve got to be kidding me.â the steering wheel stiffened beneath your hands as the car slowed awkwardly toward the side of the road. you managed to park safely beneath a dim streetlight, but when you tried restarting the engine again, the car only answered with another pathetic clicking noise.
you stared blankly ahead through the windshield.
for fuckâs sake. out of all nights.
you leaned back against the seat and exhaled harshly through your nose, fingers rubbing against your temple while frustration crawled into your chest. the road around you was unusually quiet this late at night, with only the occasional distant headlights passing every few minutes. after another failed attempt to start the engine, you finally groaned and grabbed your phone from the cupholder to call tara.
you dialed her impatiently while pushing the car door open.
humid night air wrapped around you the second you stepped outside. the heels you regretted wearing clicked sharply against the pavement as you walked around the front of your car, hugging your arms briefly against yourself while the phone rang beside your ear.
âcome on, taraâŚâ
the street remained mostly empty around you, lined with sleeping establishments and darkened storefronts that looked strangely eerie this late into the night. somewhere nearby, a dog barked once before silence swallowed the sound again.
and... headlights?
you looked up instinctively, only to see a dark car sat parked several meters behind yours on the opposite side of the road.
you were almost certain it hadnât been there earlier.Â
the vehicle remained completely still beneath the weak glow of a streetlamp, windows tinted dark enough that you couldnât make out whoever sat inside.Â
maybe it was nothing. maybe another driver had simply pulled over too? but something about it made your stomach tighten. your phone continued ringing unanswered against your ear while your eyes remained fixed on the unfamiliar car.
suddenly, standing out here alone in your stupid tight costume didnât feel very smart anymore.
without thinking twice, you lowered the phone and quickly walked back toward your car. the moment you slipped inside the driverâs seat again, you locked the doors immediately.
you looked through the rearview mirror.
and the dark car remained there, watching.
or maybe you were only paranoid. you hoped you were only paranoid.
the sight unsettled you more the longer it stayed there. so you tried calling again, straight to ringing. but your frustration only tangled itself together with nervousness until your shoulders felt stiff beneath the tight leather of your costume. you then sighed heavily and lowered your phone.Â
maybe you should just call roadside assistance instead. or maybeâ
knock knock.
you physically jolted so hard your shoulder hit the seat. your head snapped violently toward the driver-side window, pulse instantly spiking into your throat.
and thereâleaning slightly down beside your car beneath the dim streetlightâwas a familiar face.
older, sharper.
the softness youth once gave him had long disappeared, carved away into cleaner lines and composed restraint. even through the shadows, there was no mistaking him. not the calmness in his expression, not the piercing emerald eyes staring directly at you through the glass.
zayne.
for a second, you could only stare at him blankly.
what was he doing here? and more importantlyâwhy did this somehow feel exactly like something zayne would do? appearing at the exact moment your life tilted sideways without warning.
when your eyes met, you watch him straighten up and step aside.
was he really back in town now?Â
your fingers tightened around your phone before you slowly unlocked the car door, the cool night air hitting your skin again the moment you stepped outside.
up close, the sight of him almost startled you a second time. you swallowed once and forced yourself to compose properly despite the strange tightness gathering beneath your ribs.Â
there was no time to be overwhelmed. not here, not now.
you smiled politely in that careful adult way people did after years apart. the kind of smile exchanged between relatives reconnecting after too much time passed. âzayne,â you greeted softly. âitâs been a while. howâve youââ
âwhatâs wrong with your car?â the interruption was immediate, clean and direct.
your words stopped midair, as the smile on your face faded before you could even help it.
huh.
for some reason, the bluntness stung more than it should have. you looked at him for a second, suddenly unsure where to place your hands or your voice or yourself beneath his attention. maybe adulthood really had made him colder, or maybe he was simply always like this and you only forgot.
âiââ you started awkwardly. âsorry, i justââ
âdonât be.â his voice wasnât harsh. if anything, it was too calm.Â
you blinked once before pressing your lips together tightly.
the silence stretched briefly between you while distant cars occasionally passed somewhere farther down the road. beneath the streetlight, zayneâs gaze flicked toward your vehicle again before returning to your face.
you finally cleared your throat. âuh, my engine suddenly stopped working, i donât even know why.â
zayne nodded once. then, without another word, he stepped past you toward the front of the car.
you turned instinctively to watch him. and suddenly, embarrassingly, your chest tightened again. because it hit you all at once thenâthis was the first time you had been alone with zayne in years.
really alone.
without any family gatherings, crowded parties, and without caleb between the space separating the two of you. thereâs just the quiet road and the warm night air. and zayne standing beside your broken car with rolled sleeves and tired eyes.
he leaned slightly over the hood of the car, brows furrowing in concentration as he examined something beneath the front light. his forearms flexed when he rested one hand against the edge of the hood, and the sight made your stomach twist in a way that felt deeply inconvenient.
seriously, what the hell was wrong with you tonight?
as if sensing your stare lingering too long, zayne looked back at you directly. the eye contact hit harder now that you were adults, less innocent.
quietly, with the same unreadable composure he always carried, he asked. âwhy are you out here alone this late?â
âthere was an alumni homecoming,â you explained, hugging your arms a little closer against yourself while standing beside the car. âfor senior high.â
zayne remained crouched near the front of the vehicle, one hand braced against the hood while the other adjusted something beneath it. he only glanced up briefly before returning his attention back to the engine.
âi attended the party,â you added after a second, suddenly hyperaware of what you were wearing. âwhich is why i look like⌠this.â
the corner of zayneâs mouth twitched faintly, enough to make your stomach betray you a little.
âi noticed,â he says.
you cleared your throat and stepped closer to the car, heels crunching lightly against stray gravel near the roadside. up close, you could smell faint detergent and something sterile clinging subtly to him beneath the night air, like hospital corridors and clean laundry somehow followed him everywhere.
it felt unfairly familiar.
you looked down at him. âyou didnât hear about the homecoming?â
silence.
âthat means no, then.â
zayne hummed, entirely unbothered by your accusation. honestly, that tracked. he was always strangely detached from things happening around him unless someone physically dragged the information to his face. back then, people used to joke that zayne could probably miss the apocalypse if nobody updated him personally.
you opened your mouth to tease him again when suddenlyâ
âfuck.â grease smeared darkly against the cuff of his rolled sleeve and streaked lightly across his forearm.
instinctively, you moved toward the passenger side door. âwait, i have wipes insideââ
âitâs okay.â zayne said it so quickly that you paused mid-motion. he barely even looked at the stain. you stood there awkwardly for a second before slowly nodding and stepping back again.
silence settled afterward, the kind of silence that carried too many things beneath it.
you watched zayne work quietly for another moment. he really had changed... or maybe matured was the better word. oh â his phone is ringing.
buzzzzz!
zayne stopped immediately. with his clean hand, he pulled the phone out and glanced briefly at the screen before answering.
âbaby?â
your body stilled, completely.
zayne turned slightly away while speaking into the phone, voice lower and calmer in a way that sounded unintentionally intimate beneath the quiet road. âyes, iâm still outside.â he paused. âno, donât wait up.â
your throat tightened before you could stop it.
oh.
he had a girlfriend now.Â
you stared blankly at the road instead, suddenly unable to figure out where to look. how? when? where did he even meet her? and more importantlyâwhy did you care so much? the realization embarrassed you instantly. because what exactly were you expecting after all these years apart? that both of them would remain frozen in time waiting for you forever?
you swallowed and looked down at your hands. this entire situation felt strange and wrong somehow.
zayne was here late at night helping you alone on the side of the road while his girlfriend waited for him somewhere else. and you stood beside him in a skin-tight costume looking at him too much and thinking about things you absolutely should not be thinking anymore.
it made guilt creep slowly beneath your skin.
zayne ended the call not long after and slipped his phone back into his pocket. before he could return to fixing the engine, you stepped forward quickly and lowered the hood shut with a dull metallic thud.
the sound cut through the quiet road sharply, making zayne blink up at you.
then one of his brows lifted.
the expression was so familiar it almost threw you off balance. that look he had on his face looked exactly like his younger self againâthe same boy who used to silently judge everybody with one unimpressed glance.
you pressed your lips together awkwardly. âyou donât have to fix it. iâll just call for assistance or something.â
zayne remained leaning slightly against the car, grease staining his sleeve while he looked at you like youâd just said something ridiculous. âi can fix it.â
âyeah, but you donât need to.â
âit's fine.â
you exhaled through your nose. âzayne, seriously, i donât want to take too much of your time.â
his gaze stayed on you for a moment, and then he straightened fully, brushing his stained hand against his slacks without much concern. âthe radiator hose is damaged. your engine overheated. itâs not something you should drive home tonight.â
you stared at him silently while he spoke, watching the way the streetlight caught faintly against the sharp bridge of his nose and the loose strands of dark hair falling near his forehead.
âItâs better if i drive you home,â he added calmly. âiâll call assistance for your car afterward.â
your body stilled faintly at the offer.Â
drive you home...?
the intimacy of it settled strangely beneath your ribs, because this wasnât high school anymore. you werenât teenagers stumbling through friday nights.
you were adults now. and being alone in a car with zayne at this age felt infinitely more dangerous than it wouldâve back then. you swallowed once before the thought escaped your mouth. ââŚdonât you have a girlfriend?â
zayne paused, actually paused. his brows furrowed slightly as he looked at you with genuine confusion. âwhat?â
you immediately regretted asking.
ugh, you sounded insane now that you realized it. you cleared your throat and gestured vaguely. âthe... call earlier.â
realization dawned across his face slowly. and thenâto your complete disbeliefâzayne almost looked amused. âmy assistant? her name is baby.â
ââŚwhat?â
âbaby jane,â zayne repeated calmly. âone of the assistants in the hospital.â
you continued staring at him.
that was the dumbest thing you had ever heard.
if this explanation came from literally anybody else, you wouldâve laughed directly in their face and called them a liar. but zayne looked entirely sincere standing there. because zayne couldnât lie to save his life. back then, he used to get caught hiding things within five seconds simply because guilt physically manifested on his face.
awkwardly, you nodded. ââŚoh.â
a tiny silence followed, then you noticed the look on zayneâs face. subtle but definitely thereâmild amusement lingered quietly in his eyes while he watched you process everything.
your cheeks instantly felt warmer as you looked away. âwell, thatâs a ridiculous name.â
âeveryone says the same thing.â
after zayne finished calling assistance for your car, the two of you stood awkwardly beside the road for a moment while waiting for the details to settle. it turns out that the dark tinted car from earlier belonged to none other than zayne.Â
several minutes later, you found yourself slipping into the passenger seat. the interior smelled faintly like coffee and something distinctly himâsubtle enough that you probably wouldnât notice it if you werenât sitting this close. zayne also settled into the driverâs seat beside you, adjusting the wheel before glancing toward you.
âare you cold?â he asked, fingers already reaching toward the air conditioning controls.
you shook your head. âiâm fine.â
he paused briefly before pulling his hand away again without argument.
you stared out the passenger window while absently rubbing your thumb against your phone screen. you still felt worried about your car despite everything. what if the repair became expensive? what if the engine problem turned out worse than expected? and on top of thatâsitting in zayneâs car after all these years felt so odd in a way you couldnât properly explain.
the silence between you wasnât awkward exactly. it was worse. it was familiar.
you cleared your throat to distract yourself. âdo you still remember the way to my house?â
instead of answering verbally, zayne simply opened his maps application. you stared at the glowing screen for a second before letting out a tiny huff of disbelief.
âwow,âÂ
âi remember the address,â he said calmly while typing it in. ânot the route.â
that reminds you... back then, zayne used to remember everything about youâwhich snacks you hated, which route you preferred walking home, which pencil brand you always lost within two days.
he used to notice little things without even trying. but now he needed maps.
you looked down at your lap quietly.
this was good. this was normal. people grow up and move on. you were expecting too much from ghosts of adolescence that no longer existed the same way they once did. and, werenât you relieved? if both caleb and zayne had truly moved on from whatever complicated mess existed between the three of you back then, then you could finally breathe properly too. you no longer have to carry that strange lingering guilt that followed you through adulthood like an unfinished sentence.
now, all of you could finally leave everything behind.
when the car stopped outside your house, relief and disappointment tangled together unpleasantly inside your chest. you unbuckled your seatbelt slowly and turned toward him with a polite smile. âthank you for driving me home. i really appreciate it.â
zayne nodded. âmm.â
you stepped out of the car carefully, heels crunching lightly against the pavement again. you were already halfway toward your gate whenâ
âwait.â your name left zayneâs mouth behind you.
you turned around and stilled at the sight of zayne stepping out of the car too. in his hands was a small cake box decorated with your favorite flowers tucked neatly around the ribbon.
where did that suddenly come from? and... is that for you?Â
something about his composure became almost painfully awkward beneath the porch lights. âi heard about the reunion,â he admitted quietly. âbut my schedule didnât allow me to attend.â his tone remained flat in that very zayne way, but you caught it immediatelyâthe subtle stiffness beneath his voice whenever he was embarrassed about sincerity.
it almost made you smile.
âso, i brought something instead.â he sounded like someone reluctantly explaining why he accidentally cared too much.
slowly, you stepped closer and looked down at the lettering written carefully across the cake.
âcongratulations for getting promoted.â
you remember caleb texted you about your promotion months ago while zayne never did, but this felt exactly like the sort of thing zayne would do instead of sending a message. quietly remember just to quietly show up. quietly carry around a cake for god knows how long because he didnât know how else to express congratulations properly.
you looked back up at him. âthank you for still remembering, zayne.â
â
after a few months of postponed plans, missed friday dinners, and relatives constantly saying âwe'll be finally complete next timeâ, grannyâs birthday finally came by.
your family arrived earlier than everyone else, mostly because your mother believed being late to family occasions was some kind of moral failure. by eight in the morning, you were already outside in grannyâs front yard wearing house slippers and comfortable clothes, sitting on a small plastic stool beneath the shade while blowing balloons until your cheeks hurt.
from the open kitchen windows came the scent of garlic fried in oil, sweet spaghetti sauce simmering in giant pots, and the faint buttery smell of cake that somebody had already sliced prematurely despite strict instructions not to touch it yet. inside the house, the older aunts moved around carrying trays and arguing over whether the pasta needed more sauce while old love songs played from a speaker.
it felt so comforting, like childhood preserved in a glass jar.
your younger cousins ran circles around the yard while chasing each other with uninflated balloons, their slippers slapping against the fake grass. every few minutes one of them would come bother you for help.
at one point, one of the smaller cousins climbed directly onto your lap while you were tying ribbons around balloons, nearly making you inhale the entire thing from surprise. âoh my god,â you laughed breathlessly, pushing his forehead away. âyouâre trying to kill me before grannyâs birthday even starts!â
the child only grinned mischievously before stealing one of the candies from the nearby table and sprinting away before his mother could catch him. you watched him disappear around the gate with a smile still lingering on your face.
every now and then, the familiar metal gate creaked open again and another relative stepped inside carrying containers of food or grocery bags or wrapped gifts while greeting everyone.
and every single time, granny would brighten like sunlight itself. she sat proudly near the terrace in her favorite floral duster while greeting every newcomer as though they had returned home from war instead of merely driving fifteen minutes away. sometimes she forgot stories halfway through telling them. sometimes she repeated the same joke twice. and nobody minded.
somehow, granny had always been the center thread tying everybody together. without her, everyone drifted.
you noticed that more clearly now as an adult. how people got jobs, moved cities, entered relationships, built schedules too crowded for friday gatherings and random visits. the neighborhood no longer felt permanently alive the way it once had when you were younger. but today felt differentâtoday felt like somebody, in this case, granny, had reached into the past and carefully stitched it back together for a few hours.
you finished tying another cluster of balloons near the gate before standing up to stretch your sore shoulders. immediately, one of your aunts shoved a tray of barbecue sticks into your hands on her way past.
âbring this inside please.â
âwhy am i suddenly unpaid labor?â you complained.
âbecause youâre unmarried and still useful,â your mother replied from somewhere behind you without even looking up. almost the entire yard burst into laughter at that, so you groaned while carrying the tray toward the tables, though the smile on your face stayed anyway.
and maybe that was the strange thing about coming back here. for the first time in a long while, adulthood felt far away. here, you were still just you. still someoneâs granddaughter. still someoneâs cousin. still the girl who grew up inside these walls.
the moment you stepped inside the house carrying the tray of barbecue sticks, you immediately regretted it.
âcome here,â one of the older women called instantly, patting the empty seat beside her. another older relative leaned forward with dangerous curiosity already sparkling in her eyes. âso, when are yougetting married?â
oh no.
you forced out a polite smile as you carefully balanced the tray in your hands. âgood morning to you too.â
that only made them laugh louder. within seconds, you found yourself trapped near the dining area while several elderly women interrogated you about your love life. somebody asked whether you were secretly dating, another asked if your standards were too high now because you were a corporate manager, then one uncle declared that women became âtoo intimidatingâ once they earned too much money.
you stared at him blankly while chewing your barbecue in silence. honestly, you would rather reorganize all the monoblock chairs outside one by one than survive this conversation.
thankfully, salvation arrived in the form of chaos. one of the younger cousins suddenly darted past you like a tiny criminal and snatched another barbecue stick straight from the tray.
âhey!â you yelped.Â
the little girl burst into delighted laughter before sprinting outside barefoot while the adults erupted into noisy scolding.
âgo catch her!â
âthat child keeps stealing food!â
you did not even pretend to hesitate. âiâll go,â you announced, already escaping toward the doorway before another marriage question could be launched at your forehead.
outside, you spotted the little girl racing across the front yard triumphantly with the stolen barbecue held high in the air.
âcome back here!â you laughed, chasing after her across the grass. âyou little thief!â the child shrieked happily and nearly reached the gate beforeâsomeone suddenly caught her mid-run.
two large hands lifted her clean off the ground like she weighed absolutely nothing, and the little girl gasped before bursting into giggles.
you stopped in your tracks.
even before your mind fully processed the uniform, the broad frame, or the sunglasses glinting beneath the sunlightâyou already knew it was none other than your childhood friend.
theyâve arrived.
he stood there casually in his brown DAA uniform, one arm holding the laughing child against his side while the other stole the barbecue stick directly from her hand. âcrime doesnât pay,â he informed her seriously before taking a bite himself.
the little girl gasped in betrayal. âcaleb!â
caleb only grinned around the barbecue. even after all these years, he still carried that same careless brightness around him. the uniform hugged his frame, sleeves rolled just enough to reveal toned forearms lightly browned from the sun, while the dark sunglasses somehow made his grin look even more radiant.
caleb finally turned toward you and smiled, crooked and familiar and terribly easy. âwow,â he drawled while lowering the child back onto the ground. âthey got you working like hired staff already?â
you let out an embarrassed laugh despite yourself. âsomebody has to do the labor around here.â
âyeah?â caleb tilted his head while looking you over openly. âyou even look the part.â
your eyes widened. âwhat does that even mean?â
he laughed beneath his breath, clearly entertained by how fast you reacted. ârelax, you look adorable.â
the word hit you stupidly harder than it should have. before you could recover, caleb already brushed past you casually toward the relatives gathering near the entrance. and just as instantly, loud greetings exploded from the yard.
âcaleb!â
âyou got thinner!â
âno, he got bigger!â
relatives crowded around him fussing over his arrival while younger cousins clung to his arms asking endless questions about airplanes and flying. and somehow, quite unlike you, he handled all of it effortlessly.
then, a quieter presence approached behind him. unlike calebâs easy warmth, zayne arrived like winter air drifting through an open doorway. with a dark trench coat resting against his arm despite the sun, he wore an all-black clothing with a composed posture that remained untouched by the noisy chaos surrounding him.
he looked absurdly polished compared to the rest of the family bustling around in slippers and casual clothes. that only made him more familiar too.
his gaze found you almost immediately, quietly taking in the sight of you standing there breathless beneath the sunlight with messy hair, barbecue smoke clinging faintly to your clothes, and ribbons still tied around your wrist from decorating earlier.
your throat suddenly felt dry.
zayne gave you the smallest nod before moving past you as well, greeting the older relatives respectfully while they began fussing over him too.
and until lunchtime, you barely sat down.Â
every time you thought you finally had a moment to rest, another relative suddenly needed help carrying something, reheating food, arranging chairs, or finding missing utensils. at some point, you became the unofficial runner of the entire gathering.
still, you didnât really mind. there was something oddly comforting about the exhaustion. meanwhile, both caleb and zayne had become trapped in their own corners of socialization. every few minutes, youâd catch glimpses of them between rooms.
you saw caleb sitting comfortably among a noisy cluster of uncles and neighbors outside near the terrace, laughing easily while answering endless questions about work abroad. zayne, on the other hand, remained inside most of the time, seated neatly beside the older relatives who adored him for entirely different reasons. every auntie in the room seemed eager to brag about him to somebody else. zayne endured all of it with quiet patience, occasionally adjusting his sleeves while listening attentively whenever elders spoke to him.
by the time lunch was nearly ready, the heat inside the house had become unbearable enough that your head started hurting slightly. after setting down another tray of food onto the dining table, you exhaled and leaned toward your nearby aunt. âis there still cold water left?âÂ
your aunt nodded while fixing plates. âthere should be some in the fridgeââ before she could even finish speaking, you hear two chairs scraping against the floor at the exact same time.
you froze at the loud sound, only to see that caleb and zayne had both stood up simultaneously.
âiâll get it,â caleb said.
âi can get it for her,â zayne spoke at almost the same time.
silence...
your fingers tightened around the empty glass in your hand. and there you go.
you felt eighteen again.Â
caleb blinked first before glancing sideways at zayne with a crooked look of disbelief. zayne slowly sat back down first, though the faint tightening in his jaw betrayed him. then caleb followed a second later, leaning back into his chair while exhaling through his nose in amusement.
the younger cousins were very quick to catch on. of course they did. children always noticed first.
âtheyâre doing it again!â one of the young teenagers quickly blurted out from the couch.
another cousin burst into laughter. âoh my god, just like before!â
âright? they used to fight over helping her all the time!â
several older relatives started chuckling too, while others exchanged those suspiciously observant looks older people had whenever they sensed gossip material forming in real time.
you felt your entire face grow warm. âokay,â you interrupted, forcing out an awkward laugh. âi can just get water myself.â you escaped toward the kitchen before the conversation could worsen further, clutching your empty glass like it could protect you from humiliation.
behind you, the teasing unfortunately continued anyway. you opened the fridge and grabbed the cold pitcher of water with slightly unsteady hands. the cool air spilling from the refrigerator against your overheated skin felt heavenly as you poured yourself a full glass, trying to ignore the muffled conversations continuing from the dining area.
except certain words drifted into hearing range anyway.
âso, do either of you finally have girlfriends now?â
you paused unconsciously while lifting the glass toward your lips. outside, someone laughed, another relative joining in. âthereâs no way handsome men like these stayed single this long.â
âwhat about exes?â
âsecret children?â one uncle joked. the room then bursts into noisy reactions. you stared down quietly at your glass of water. and thenâ
ânone,â zayne answered.
one of the aunties sounded genuinely shocked. ânone at all?â
âiâve been busy,âÂ
it sounded believable, painfully believable. of course zayne would sacrifice romance for career progression with terrifying efficiencyâbut then the attention shifted toward caleb.
âwhat about you?â
you waited absentmindedly for the obvious answer, because surely someone like calebâ
âdonât want one.â
âwhat do you mean you donât want one?â somebody laughed.
calebâs voice came easier this time. âjust never wanted anybody enough.â
huh?
you hated that your mind immediately tried to interpret it. you forced yourself to drink your water while keeping your back turned toward the dining room.
they had both moved on obviously. people didnât stay stuck on childhood feelings forever.
you had barely finished your glass of water when granny suddenly shuffled into the kitchen, drawn in by the noise and laughter echoing through the dining room. âwhy is everybody so loud in here?â she asked suspiciously, though the smile already tugging at her mouth betrayed her amusement.
âwe were asking them why theyâre both still single!â
âapparently nobody wants to date these two.â
the room erupted again into laughter. you closed your eyes briefly in secondhand embarrassment while setting your empty glass down on the counter. unfortunately, when you turned aroundâyou accidentally made eye-contact with both caleb and zayne at the same time.
shit.
you immediately focused very hard on literally anything else.
before the room could spiral into even more teasing, granny suddenly clapped her hands together as though remembering something important. âoh! since youâre all just sitting there talking anyway, do me a favor, will ya.â
and just like that, every younger adult in the room developed selective hearing.
granny ignored them expertly. âhaiya, the speaker outside stopped working again,â she said with a sigh. âthe extra one should still be in the attic somewhere.â
before you could quietly escape the kitchen, grannyâs eyes landed directly on you. âyou,â you stopped yourself from reaching for the plates. âyou were in the attic this morning, right? guide them.â
you turned. ââŚthem?â
granny pointed directly toward caleb and zayne.
fuck?
being alone upstairs with the both of them is significantly more dangerous than it logically should! but refusing would only make everyone tease you harder.
you forced out a smile. âsure.â
eventually, the three of you walked upstairs together while the noise slowly faded behind you into muffled laughter. the old staircase creaked beneath your steps exactly the same way it always had growing up, and the familiar sound alone made something in you stir.
you tried to fill the silence before it became unbearable. âthe atticâs probably messier now, granny keeps throwing random things there.â
âsome things never change,â caleb replied easily from behind you. âincluding this house.â
you glanced back briefly, remembering once upon a time, this exact staircase had carried the three of you toward childhood conspiracies instead of polite adult conversations.
the attic door creaked loudly when you pushed it open, and warm dusty air greeted you immediately. the room smelled faintly like cardboard, old books, wood polish, and trapped summer heat. sunlight slipped through the tiny circular window near the ceiling, illuminating floating dust particles drifting through the air like tiny fireflies.
you could see boxes stacked everywhere of old christmas decorations, broken electric fans, bags of clothes nobody wanted to throw away, photo albums, and your forgotten toys.
all three of you simply stood there quietly.
you remembered rainy afternoons hiding here together to avoid chores downstairs, remembered flashlight games, remembered lying on flattened cardboard boxes while listening to rain hammer against the roof above you. the attic still carried traces of those years somehow, small ghosts preserved inside warm dust and old sunlight. except now, the air between the three of you felt... different.
heavier.
caleb wandered toward one side of the attic where several labeled storage boxes rested against the wall. he crouched near one marked with messy handwriting that literally read CALEB and laughed quietly beneath his breath. âwow, granny really archived my entire existence up here.â
zayne had already started scanning the room practically. âwhere is the speaker supposed to be?â he asked while looking around.
you shrugged. âi honestly have no idea. i was only here for extra chairs earlier.â
âhow helpful,â caleb commented.
you shot him a look. âthen you find it.â
he grinned without looking up from the box he had opened.
you exhaled before stepping farther into the attic yourself, carefully weaving between old storage containers while searching as the attic slowly filled with the sound of things being moved around.
caleb sat crouching on the floor near his old storage box while sorting through random junk he apparently used to ownâold basketball magazines, tangled earphones, a broken handheld game console... âdamn,â he muttered, holding up an ancient toy car. âi remember crying over this.â
you laughed while brushing dust off yourself. âyou used to cry over everything.â
âexcuse me,â caleb replied with fake offense. âi was just emotionally expressive.â
âyou cried because i beat you at mario kart once,â zayne deadpanned from across the attic without looking up from the boxes he was checking.
caleb pointed at you as he looked at zayne. âbecause she cheated.â
âi didnât cheat,â you defended.
âyou absolutely cheated, you manipulative girl.â
you snorted before you could stop yourself, bending slightly to look through another box near the far wall, unaware that both men had unconsciously looked toward you at the same time until caleb suddenly spoke again. âheh, you still do that.â
you glanced back. âdo what?â
âthat thing when you bite the inside of your cheek.â
your lips parted, and without realizing it, you immediately stopped doing it. caleb smiled faintly when he noticed.
âyou still remember that?â you asked carefully.
âyea, i remember a lot of things about you, miss poker.â
you quickly looked away and crouched beside another stack of boxes, pretending to search harder for the speaker. across the room, zayne finally straightened from where heâd been kneeling near an old shelf.
âso you cut your hair,â he suddenly said.
your hands paused before looking at him. his tone had remained completely neutral and observational, almost clinical. but somehow, hearing it from him affected you differently. you touched your hair absentmindedly near your shoulder. âa few months ago, yeah.â
zayne nodded once. âit used to reach your waist.â
caleb leaned back against the wall nearby, one knee propped upward while watching the two of you. âhe noticed that immediately when we walked in earlier,âÂ
zayneâs gaze shifted toward him. âcaleb.â
âwhat?â caleb shrugged innocently. âiâm just saying.â
you forced yourself to keep searching. âyou two are still so dramatic.â
âweâre not dramatic,â caleb replied.
zayne adjusted his sleeves, turning to caleb. âyou are.â
âsays the guy who used to get jealous over card games.â caleb grinned wider. âremember that?â he continued casually, though his eyes remained fixed on zayne instead of you. âshe used to sit beside me during poker nights and youâd stare holes through the back of my head the entire time.â
âbecause you always cheated.â
âagain with the cheating accusations,â you muttered.
âyou liked it when i let you win,â caleb now looked at you.
your heartbeat stumbled, because the way he said it didnât sound playful anymore. it sounded personal. for some reason, your mind replayed the night of the alumni event, when you unknowingly played poker against him.  slowly, you stood upright again while clutching one of the dusty boxes against your chest. âi never needed you to let me win.â
caleb looked at you then, fully. the sunlight slipping through the attic window caught faintly against the gold-brown tones of his skin while dust drifted through the space between all of you. âi know,âÂ
nobody spoke for several seconds.
downstairs, you could hear someone screaming and laughing over karaoke lyrics.
and then caleb exhaled suddenly through his nose before speaking again, âyou know whatâs funny?â he rested his forearm over his raised knee, gaze lingering on you beneath lowered lashes. âi thought seeing you again after all these years would make things easier.â
your throat tightened. you should not ask, you absolutely should not. âdid it?â
caleb stared at you for a long moment, then smiled. ânot even a little.â
you stilled at calebâs answer.
the words lingered strangely inside the attic, hanging somewhere between the dust-filled air and the slow heat pressing beneath your skin. for a second, you became painfully aware of the sunlight touching the side of your face, of the old floorboards beneath your feet, of the way your heartbeat had suddenly become embarrassingly noticeable to yourself.
and then you noticed zayne looking at caleb, but it wasnât an annoyed look, wasnât surprised either. it was quieter than that, like there was an entire conversation happening inside one glance alone.
something restrained passed between them before zayneâs eyes eventually shifted toward you instead.
you immediately laughed and shook your head, forcing lightness back into the room before the atmosphere swallowed you whole. god, they still had the same effect on you somehow. that alone irritated you a little. so instead of shrinking away from it, you turned toward caleb with a deliberately playful expression. âwhat? does that mean you still havenât moved on yet?â it was meant to be teasing, something to defuse the tension. except the moment the words left your mouth, you watched calebâs face slowly change.
there it was again.
that same crooked, dangerous little smirk he used to wear years ago whenever you accidentally walked yourself into his traps. he leaned further back against the wall behind him, eyes dragging slowly over your face before answering. âdepends,âÂ
your stomach tightened instantly. before he could continueâand before zayne could speak eitherâyou quickly cut in. âokay, iâm just gonna ask granny where the speaker actually is before we die up here.â
you turned around and headed toward the attic door before either of them could say anything else that would make your entire nervous system malfunction. the wooden floor creaked beneath your steps when you grabbed the doorknob quickly, twisting it while already half distracted by your own embarrassment.
but the knob didnât move.
you frowned, trying again harder.
âhuh?â you jiggled the handle again, now using both hands, but the old wood only rattled loudly beneath the force.
your brows furrowed deeper. âwait.â you pulled harder this time, but the door refused to budge completely. confusion now immediately shifted into disbelief. âare you serious?â you shoved your shoulder lightly against it before trying the lock again, only for the handle to stubbornly remain stuck in place.
behind you, you heard movement.
âwhat happened?â zayne asked.
âthe door wonât open.â
caleb laughed at first like he thought you were joking, but the sound faded when you hit the door again with genuine frustration.
âiâm serious.â you knocked loudly this time, âhello?!â your voice disappeared beneath the thunder of karaoke downstairs. somebody was aggressively singing an old love song now, complete with cheering relatives and clapping somewhere below.
of course. of fucking course nobody could hear you.
you tried again anyway, knocking harder until your palm stung against the wood. âgranny?!âyou abruptly turned around. âdo either of you have your phones?â
for one tiny second, caleb and zayne exchanged a look. and something about it immediately made suspicion flicker inside you.
zayne checked his pockets first before speaking calmly. âi left mine downstairs.â
your eyes moved toward caleb, watching the way he patted his jeans before exhaling through his nose. âmine too.â caleb had the audacity to look mildly entertained already. âguess weâre stuck,âÂ
âwhat do you mean âguess weâre stuckâ?â
ârelax, someoneâll notice eventually.â
âeventually?â you repeated incredulously.
the attic suddenly felt significantly smaller than before. way too small. especially now that you were hyperaware of everything again.
you swallowed.
absolutely not. there was no universe in which getting trapped inside an attic alone with these two men counted as a survivable situation. especially not when the tension between all three of you already felt thick enough to physically breathe in.
you crossed your arms tightly. âthereâs no way.â
caleb tilted his head. âno way what?â
âno way iâm getting stuck up here with both of you.â
zayne looked away for a brief second, though not fast enough to hide the faint amusement threatening at the corner of his expression.
âwow,â caleb muttered. âthat sounded personal.â
âbecause it is personal,â
âgeez, pipsqueak, weâre not gonna eat you alive.â
your heartbeat stumbled traitorously at the nickname. so he still does call you that, huh?Â
eventually, pacing around the attic stopped accomplishing anything except making you hotter. so with an exhausted sigh, you finally sat down onto the wooden floorboards near one of the storage boxes, crossing your legs beneath you while leaning your back against the wall. the longer the three of you stayed trapped up there, the warmer the space became.
there was barely any airflow at all.
the tiny circular window near the ceiling let in sunlight but absolutely no breeze, and the trapped heat had started settling heavily against your skin until even breathing felt sticky.Â
you fanned yourself weakly using the corner of an old magazine you found nearby. âitâs actually so hot,â you groaned. âhow is this room legally allowed to exist?â
caleb snickered from where he sat a few feet away against another stack of boxes. âwho's dramatic now?â
âyouâre sweating too.â
âwell, i sweat beautifully.â
fair. he actually was sweating though.
caleb had always been the type to run warm easily, and now that the heat had thoroughly caught up to him, the strands of his dark hair had started sticking damply against his forehead and temples, the slight sheen of sweat along his neck catching under the attic sunlight whenever he moved. with a quiet exhale, he dragged one hand through his hair and pushed it back, exposing more of his forehead before unzipping his brown DAA jacket halfway down just to loosen it.
the movement pulled your attention before you could stop it, but you instantly averted your gazeâto where zayne is quietly settled.
zayne sat near the shelves, though the heat had clearly begun getting to him too. he rarely looked disheveled, so the subtle signs became painfully noticeable once you started paying attention; his sleeves had been rolled upward twice already, dark hair sat slightly messier now near his forehead. every few minutes, he adjusted the collar of his black shirt like the fabric had become unbearable against his skin. a bead of sweat also slowly slid down the side of his neck before disappearing beneath the collarbone of his shirt.
you glanced away while continuing to fan yourself. âsummerâs getting really evil,âÂ
caleb tipped his head back against the wall. âif i pass out up here, tell people i died handsome.â
ânobody would say that.â you tugged lightly at the fabric of your shirt where it clung uncomfortably against your skin from the heat. honestly, at this point modesty felt significantly less important than survival. so before you could overthink it, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it off over your head, leaving yourself in only your thin undershirt.
immediate silence.
you looked up instinctively and caught both men staring. not even subtly.
calebâs eyes had visibly paused on you before he looked away first with a low exhale through his nose. zayne reacted faster, immediately turning his gaze aside and adjusting his shirt again.
âgeez,â you muttered defensively. âdonât make it weird.â
âweâre not making it weird,â caleb replied too quickly.
you gestured vaguely toward them. âthen take yours off too instead of suffering. we literally all grew up together anyway.â
caleb looked at you for a second before grinning slowly. ânah, you might die seeing my biceps.â
âyouâre insufferable.â
to your surprise, zayne suddenly spoke from beside the two of you. âsheâs right about one thing.â you blinked toward him, only to see that he had reached for the hem of his black shirt, pulling it off completelyâcompletely shirtless!
your brain short-circuited.Â
because unlike caleb, who at least still had clothes on, zayne had apparently decided modesty was optional now as well. the attic air suddenly vanished from your lungs, your eyes betraying you before you could stop them.
sweaty broad shoulders, defined arms, sharp collarbones damp from heat, and the... abs.
you instantly busied yourself with absolutely anything elseâthe dusty floorboards, the ceiling, the old christmas decorations nearby. anywhere except directly at zayneâs now shirtless body.
ah, spiritual enlightenment.
across from you, caleb immediately noticed. he leaned forward with visible amusement sparkling in his eyes. âwhyâre you looking away? thought we all grew up together.â
your face burned hotter. âshut up.â
âwhat?â caleb chuckled. âsuddenly shy now?â while speaking, he shrugged off his DAA jacket completely too, leaving only the fitted white tank top stretched across his chest and shoulders, all sweaty. the heat had dampened the thin fabric slightly near his collarbone, and the sight of his forearms flexing as he tossed the jacket aside did absolutely nothing good for you.Â
zayne peacefully folded his discarded top ontop of a storage box while watching the interaction unfold beside him.
âleave her alone,â he said to caleb.
caleb raised a brow. âwhy?â
zayneâs eyes shifted toward you briefly, calm and knowing. âsheâs always been a scaredy kitten like that.â the familiarity of the remark hit you directly in the chest. years ago, he used to say things like that all the time too.
you frowned at zayneâs comment. âi am not a scaredy kitten.â
caleb laughed under his breath instantly. âyeah? tell that to your eighteen year old self, i bet my life she'd also just space out and stammer around.â
âfuck you.â
âit was funny.â
âyouâre evil.â
caleb grinned. âand yet you still followed us everywhere back then.â
you opened your mouth to rebutt that immediately, only for the memory itself to betray you first. because annoyingly enoughâyou had followed them everywhere. the three of you used to move around the neighborhood like a tiny dysfunctional unit impossible to separateâsummer afternoons spent biking aimlessly around streets, convenience store runs at midnight, and then hiding in this exact attic whenever adults downstairs assigned chores nobody wanted to do.
you smiled while shaking your head. âwe were actually unbearable teenagers.â
âyou were unbearable,â caleb corrected.
âsays the one who somehow always ended up in neighborhood clashes.â you looked up to remember. âit was always at the... where was it again? oh right, the street four blocks away here.â
âand yet i survived.â
zayne spoke without looking up. âbarely.â
caleb whistled. âand the one who always used to snitch spoke just now, finally.â
âwho wouldn't snitch on a cheater.â
âwhere did that even come from? and why do you always say i'm a cheater?â
âbecause you are a cheater,â you and zayne answered simultaneously.
the three of you paused, before unexpectedly bursting into laughter together. real laughter this time, the kind that slipped out before anybody could control it. laughter made it easier to forget how much time had passed, made it easier to fall back into old rhythms.
you hugged your knees loosely against your chest while smiling. âi thought both of you would completely forget about me after college.â
the moment the words left your mouth, caleb glanced toward zayne briefly. âthat was unlikely,â zayne said.
you tilted your head, now rummaging again through the photoalbums inside a nearby box. âwhy?â
âyou were hard to miss,â caleb replied, walking toward you to crouch closer and look at the same albums.
your brows furrowed. âwe barely even talked after.â
âdidnât mean we didnât hear about you.â
you looked up. ââŚwhat?â
caleb looked up as well, meeting your eyes. âyour... promotion.â
âah.â
âcongratulations, by the way,â zayne added calmly. âfor also successfully advertising that one campaign your company did.â
your eyes snapped toward him. ââŚhow do you know about that?â
zayne looked almost confused by the question. âyou posted it.â
so they've been updated of you from afar, huh.
at some point during the conversation, both men had gradually moved closer without you noticing. caleb now sat near enough that his knee almost brushed yours, while zayne leaned against the wall beside you instead of across the attic, close enough for you to catch the clean scent of his cologne beneath the heat and dust.
suddenly, you remembered the lack of clothing again. you glanced at your own thin undershirt, and to zayne completely shirtless beside you, then to caleb in only a tank top with damp hair falling over his forehead. you cleared your throat quickly. âanyway, what about you two? you seriously never dated anybody?â
âwhy?â caleb asked lazily. âyou curious?â
ânormal people ask questions during conversations.â
âyou first,â he replied.
zayne glanced toward you too, quieter but no less attentive. somehow, having both of them looking at you at once made the space inside your chest tighten. you tried to stay unaffected. âi already answered downstairs, i think. i have never been in a serious relationship in my life.â
âno serious relationships,â caleb corrected carefully. âthatâs different.â
you looked down at your hands, shrugging. âi donât know, i guess work just became easier to focus on.â that wasnât the full truth. the fuller truth sat heavier beneath your ribsâthat intimacy had always felt strangely incomplete after them.
after whatever the three of you had become all those years ago.
you let out a forced chuckle to lighten the mood again. âwhich sounds depressing now that i say it out loud.â
âit doesnât,â zayne says, glancing down your chest, and back up your eyes. maybe it was the trapped closeness of the attic, but something about the way he looked at you right then made warmth slowly spread beneath your skin, a kind of longing stretched too thin over too many years.
caleb rests his chin against his fist. âso really no boyfriends, no exes?â
your face warmed beneath the attention. âwhy are you interrogating me?â
âbecause... itâs weird imagining nobody trying.â
you opened your mouth to deflect the conversation somewhere safer. âdid either of you even find the speaker yet?âÂ
caleb groaned. âlook at her running away.â
you ignored him entirely after that, standing up too quickly from the floorboards and dusted your hands against your shorts as if you were suddenly very determined to continue searching for the missing speakerâanything to keep yourself occupied. âif we actually find this thing, maybe granny will finally stop making me carry trays around.â the old wooden floor creaked beneath your steps as you moved toward another pile of boxes near the shelves.Â
it almost grounded you. almost.
the moment you bent to check behind one of the boxes, you feel a hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist, urging you to stop and look back.
you found zayne standing closer than you realized, close enough for you to notice the faint sheen of sweat still lingering along his collarbones and chest, catching the subtle rise and fall of his breathing. his grip around your wrist wasnât painful, but it stopped you completely. âlook at me,â
whatâs gotten into him all of the sudden?
your gaze flickered everywhere except directly at him because he was still shirtless and because something about the expression on his face right now made your chest feel strangely full. âzayneââ
âlook at me.â
so you did, and his eyes looked nothing like they did downstairs around the family.
this wasnât the polite zayne. not the distant adult zayne carefully controlling every word. this looked much closer to the boy you used to know years ago.
his fingers tightened around your wrist, enough to slightly hurt. âyou always do this,â
â...do what?â
ârun away.âÂ
the words landed harder than they should have. you immediately tried pulling your wrist back a little, but zayne didnât let go. behind him, caleb had gone unusually quiet. you could feel his presence somewhere behind zayne without directly looking, still crouched, still listening.
your throat tightened slightly. âthere is... nothing to run away from.â
so they really haven't moved on yet, huh.
zayne gave you a look, one that felt almost cruel in how accurately it saw through you. âyou are right now.â
âi was-... literally just looking for the speaker. doing what weâre actually here for.â
âyou can do that while talking to us, canât you?â
âwell, whatever you both were talking about is weird.â
âweird?â he repeated quietly. his grip loosened slightly afterward, but he still didnât fully let go. ây/n, you never changed. like before, and until now, all youâve ever done is run away.â
your chest further tightened at his words, brows furrowing as you still tried to look somewhere else.
âafter what happened, you just disappeared on us.â
you swallowed hard.
âand you stopped showing up.â
hearing it said out loud like this made it sound uglier than the version youâd told yourself all these yearsâthat everyone simply grew apart naturally, that time passed, and that adulthood happened. but deep down, you knew. you knew you had distanced yourself on purpose after what happened between the three of you.
after that summer.
your voice came out smaller now. âthings got complicated. you know that.â
zayne raised a brow. âso you left?â
the sunlight filtering through the attic window suddenly seemed painfully bright against the dust floating lazily in the air. âwhat was i supposed to do?â you asked exasperatedly. for the first time since grabbing your wrist, zayne hesitated. that tiny hesitation somehow hurt even more, because it meant he didnât have an answer either.
behind him, caleb finally moved.Â
you glanced toward him instinctively.
he still sat low against the floorboards, elbows resting loosely over his knees now while he stared somewhere toward the old shelves instead of directly at either of you. his expression looked incredibly unreadable, but his jaw had tightened faintly.
âyou left us behind,â zayne breaks the silence again.
your eyes stung unexpectedly, whispering, âthatâs not fair,â
zayneâs gaze softened for only a second before hardening again beneath restraint. âisnât it?â
you hated this, you hated how small you suddenly felt beneath the weight of his stare, beneath the years sitting unsaid between all three of you. you instinctively shrank slightly backward, only for your wrist still trapped in his hand to stop you halfway.
caleb finally exhaled from behind zayne before speaking for the first time in several minutes. âzayne, donât corner her.â
zayne looked toward him briefly. âiâm not.â
âyou are.â
the attic remained painfully quiet after that. not truly silentâbecause downstairs, somebody was still butchering an old love song through the karaoke microphone while relatives laughed loudly between clinking plates and glassesâbut up here, inside the heat and dust and years sitting between the three of you, everything felt suspended.
your wrist still tingled faintly where zayne had held it, but neither him nor caleb looked away from each other. somehow, being caught between their silence felt worse than shouting.
and then, zayne spoke, still calm. âdo you ever think about that summer?â calebâs gaze flickered toward him slowly. and zayne continued before either of you could interrupt. âwe were kids, scared kids.â
your heartbeat quickened, you already knew what summer he meant. of course you did. there had only ever been one summer capable of following all three of you into adulthood like this.
âdid you wonder once, caleb,â zayneâs eyes remained on him, steady and honest in a way that almost hurt to witness. âif we were brave back then, would something have happened?â
the question settled heavily into the attic air.
caleb didnât answer. for once, he actually looked speechless. his brows slowly straightened while his lips parted faintly, like he almost had words but couldnât quite force them out. and then, eventually, his eyes shifted away from zayneâand landed on you instead.
when your eyes met, you looked away immediately.
somewhere throughout the years apart from them, hidden beneath careers and distance and adulthood, you had slowly realized something terrifying. you never actually stopped wanting them, not one more than the other, not one instead of the other.
just them. just caleb and zayneâthe boys who ruined every normal definition of love for you before you were even old enough to understand what love properly was. and maybe you could have buried that forever, maybe you almost did.
until today.Â
zayne took another step closer. this time, he was looking directly at you. âcan we have the answer now?âÂ
christ, you could hear your own heartbeat. itâs fast, loud, humiliatingly obvious. you were always afraid to admit it, but perhapsâa part of you wanted to cross that line now, to stop pretending none of this existed and to finally say something honest after years of repression.
your eyes flickered helplessly between them. and thenâyour wandering gaze accidentally caught something sitting atop one of the higher shelves across the attic.
you blinked out of yourself.Â
wait. isnât that the speaker? the stupid missing speaker?Â
your restraint grabbed onto it instantly like a lifeline. before your courage could betray you completely, you took the first opportunity to escape. the moment zayneâs hand loosened from your wrist, you slipped around him quickly and pointed toward the shelf.Â
âthere!â you said too fast. âthe speakerâs there.â
both men turned instinctively toward where you pointed, and you waste no time crossing the attic toward it before either of them could stop you again. your heart still hammered wildly inside your chest as you reached the shelf and looked upward. the speaker rested frustratingly high near the top, partially hidden behind old storage bins and random decorations.
ââŚseriously?â you stretched upward, but itâs absolutely nowhere near close enough. the shelf was too tall. you frowned while standing on your toes, fingers barely reaching for it. you glanced around desperately for something to stand on, but there werenât any proper chairs nearby. before you could stubbornly insist on climbing higher onto the unstable boxes, caleb suddenly walked up behind you.Â
âneed help?â he asks.
you blinked toward him over your shoulder. for some reason, your brain completely failed to produce a normal response. you watch how calebâs hair remained damp from the attic heat, dark strands falling messily over his forehead while his white tank top clung slightly against his chest and stomach.Â
âiâŚâÂ
calebâs mouth twitched like he noticed your sudden inability to function. without another word, he crouched down in front of you with one knee against the wooden floorboards and a broad back facing you. âcâmon,â he said while motioning over his shoulder. âget on.â
your eyes widened. ââŚwh-what?â
âyou need height, pips, unless you wanna risk your life or sumthin.â
you hesitated. behind you, zayne stepped closer too, setting a box heâd moved earlier more securely against the shelf before looking toward you. âif youâre getting it, pass the speaker to me immediately after. itâs heavy.â
you nodded weakly.
okay. fine.
you swallowed once before carefully stepping toward calebâs crouched form. âdonât drop me,âÂ
caleb laughed. âyou wound me.â still, his hands steadied against your calves as you awkwardly climbed onto his back. the moment your thighs wrapped around either side of his neck, heat rushed violently into your face.
this was humiliating.
caleb stood up carefully afterward, and the sudden loss of ground beneath your feet made you instinctively tighten your hold around him. his hands then immediately gripped more firmly on your thighs to stabilize you.
large hands...warm palms... strong fingers pressing securely against the bare skin just below your shorts...Â
you stared determinedly at the shelf instead.
focus! focus on the speaker, not on the fact that calebâs shoulders flexed beneath your hold every time he adjusted his grip on you.âcomfortable up there?â he asked, rubbing a thumb along your skin.
fuck.
âstop talking.â
âyes, maâam.â
behind you, zayne cleared his throat once. âcan you reach it?âÂ
you forced yourself to focus again and stretched upward toward the speaker stacked near the top shelf. this time you could finally reach it properly, fingers brushing against the dusty handle. âalmostââ but then, something suddenly moved near your hand, making you freeze. the ticklish sensation of what might be something alive made you look closer, and see...
âA COCKROACH!â your scream ripped through the attic instantly, jolting violently backward on instinct. âSHITââÂ
caleb startled hard beneath you from the sudden movement. âwhatâ?!â
âTHEREâS A BUGââ you wiggled frantically trying to get away from it while caleb lost balance underneath your panicked thrashing. then, the speaker tipped dangerously over the edge of the shelf. thankfully, zayne reacted fast enough to catch the heavy speaker against his chest before it crashed onto the floor.
the problem was everything else, though. you were still screaming, while caleb was still trying not to drop you. and the next few seconds happened far too fastâcalebâs balance finally gave up.
CRASH!
you landed very hard against calebâs chest as both of you crashed onto the floorboards together, the air knocking from your lungs. caleb grunted sharply beneath you from the fall, one arm instinctively wrapping around your waist to keep you from hitting the floor harder.
âare you okay?â he coughed.
âthe roachâ!â your heart still hammered wildly while you tried pushing yourself uprightâuntil sudden sharp pain tore across your palm. âahâ!â
a splintered piece of wood had been sticking upright between the uneven floorboards where your palm landed during the fall. a thin but deep cut now stretched across the center of your hand, bright red blood immediately welling against your skin.
âshit,â caleb muttered, staring at you.
you winced hard, clutching your injured hand against yourself while still half sprawled against calebâs chest.
he pushes himself upright quickly despite clearly getting hurt from the impact too. you only noticed now the way heâd scraped part of his arm against the floorboards during the fall, redness already forming along his elbow. he didnât even look at it as his attention stayed entirely on you. âlet me see,âÂ
you shook your head weakly out of reflex while pressing your wounded palm closer against yourself. âitâs fineââ
âyouâre bleeding.â his voice came lower, more serious. the teasing undertone went gone instantly. before you could protest again, caleb carefully grabbed your wrist to examine the cut more closely.
his brows furrowed hard. up close, you could see the same shift in his face whenever he got worried about you, the slight narrowing of his eyes and the way his touch became gentler without him seeming to realize it.
meanwhile beside both of you, zayne had already set the speaker down safely. you heard quick footsteps approaching, then suddenly zayne crouched near you too, immediately reaching for your injured hand with frightening calmness.
âmove,â he told caleb.
âiâm helping her.â
âand iâm a doctor.â
caleb clicked his tongue but loosened his hold enough for zayne to inspect your palm instead. now you sat there trapped awkwardly between them on the attic floor, breathing unevenly while both men focused on your injured hand. despite the pain, your face still burned hotter from the way calebâs arm remained securely attached around your waist the entire time.
instead of dwelling on that, you observed the way zayneâs entire demeanor shifted the moment he properly saw the wound. it happened so naturally that it almost startled you more than the injury itself.
one second he had been the same restrained, unreadable man from earlier, standing in the attic shirtless with sweat dampening the edges of his dark hair. and then suddenly, the doctor in him surfaced so seamlessly that it felt like watching somebody step into their true skin.
you watch his posture straightening, expression sharpened. his fingers wrapped around your wrist with control as he tilted your palm toward the sunlight. fresh blood continued slipping slowly from the cut, bright against your skin before trailing down the inside of your wrist and arm in thin warm lines.
the wound pulsed really painfully, every heartbeat making it throb even harder, enough to make you wince again.
immediately, zayneâs eyes flicked upward. âdoes it sting or ache?âÂ
you blinked at him for a second. âboth.â
zayne hummed under his breath before looking around the attic quickly, scanning the cluttered shelves and old boxes. his brows drew togetherâof course there was nothing useful here. no bandages, tissues, nothing clean enough. âwe shouldnât wrap it with anything dirty,â zayne murmured more to himself than to you.
you shifted against calebâs chest, still painfully aware of the way his arm remained firm around your waist from behind. his body felt warm beneath yours, solid, breathing against your back despite the awkward position the two of you were still trapped in on the floor.
âitâs okay, i can just use my shirt for now and wash it downstairs later when someone notices weâre missingââ you stopped yourself when zayne suddenly moved, your breath caught when he leaned downward toward your injured arm. ââŚzayne?â
he didnât answer, his gaze stayed lowered instead, almost avoiding yours. and then you felt itâthe warmth of his tongue dragging slowly along the thin trail of blood that had begun slipping down your wrist.Â
âz-zayne!â it made you flinch hard in shock, but his hand tightened carefully around your wrist to steady you before the blood could drip further. he still wouldnât look at you, expression remained frighteningly focused despite the intimacy of what he was doing, dark lashes lowered while his tongue traced upward once more against your skin.
the sensation made your stomach twist painfully because it hurt and because it didnât. because his mouth was warm and the attic was hot and your pulse was beating too hard beneath his touch. âyouâre insane,â you whispered weakly.
that finally made the corner of his mouth twitch, but he still didnât stop. slowly, carefully, zayne lifted your wounded palm closer toward his mouth. you could see the brief hesitation in his face this time, almost like he knew crossing this line would change things.Â
but even then, his lips pressed softly against the center of your palm.
âhngâ!â pain flared immediately when he applied pressure to the cut, sucking the blood from the wound to keep it temporarily clean. but the sting made your entire body tense. your free hand immediately grabbed onto the closest thing near youâ
caleb.
you pressed backward against his chest hard enough that he physically stiffened beneath you. âit hurts,â you shakily breathed.
behind you, caleb let out the faintest grunt, low and strained. his arm around your waist tightened before he could stop himself. but you failed to notice completelyâtoo distracted by zayne, by the overwhelming feeling of his mouth against your skin.
zayneâs eyes finally lifted toward yours then, emerald green, but darker now somehow. you had never realized before how intimate being cared for could feel until this exact moment. his lips remained close against your palm while his fingers held your wrist steady.
meanwhile behind you, calebâs ears had gone bright red. but you still failed to catch on the visible effort it took for him not to move beneath the repeated pressure of your body pressing against him every time the pain made you squirm. you were sitting directly between his legs, half against his chest, and every small movement from you dragged against him in ways that were making his breathing increasingly uneven.
ânghh...â calebâs grip flexed once against your waist. but before you could process that, zayne pulled back slowly from your injured hand.
your skin burned so badly it almost felt feverish, heat spreading up your throat and cheeks while your injured palm still throbbed beneath zayneâs careful hold. you stared at the faint sheen of blood left near his lower lip before he calmly wiped it away with the back of his hand. he inspected your swollen palm again with doctor-like focus despite the fact that he had literally just licked you off to suck your blood.
your breathing became uneven all over again, because you suddenly felt eighteen. painfully eighteen. back in that summer version of yourselves where standing between zayne and caleb had always felt like standing too close to a storm.
zayne tilted your wrist once more, checking the wound carefully. âthe bleeding stopped,â he murmured, in which you nodded weakly to. but he stayed crouched close in front of you though, way too close. his eyes lifted toward yours. âcan you still run away now?â
fuckâs sake, how are they this persistent?
you almost wanted to scream. why were they still like this? why were they still capable of unraveling you so easily after all these years? you swallowed hard and forced yourself to push back before you completely lost whatever remained of your sanity. âwhat if i donât?â you retorted. the words slipped out before you could stop them.Â
and the second they didâsomething behind you suddenly twitched hard against your rear. your entire body went still, feeling the solid and warm thing press against your bum, twitching ever so slightly.
is that... caleb?Â
behind you, caleb sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, like he was physically struggling, and then he made a strained sound under his breath. you felt the arm around your waist flex harder for half a second before he abruptly loosened it like heâd finally remembered himself. âokay,â caleb muttered roughly from behind you. âget off me.â
you turned your head slightly in confusion, only to find caleb looking away toward the opposite wall with a deeply tense expression, jaw tight enough to visibly flex. the tips of his ears were brightly red, damp hair sticking messily to his forehead while sweat slid slowly down the side of his neck into the collar of his tank top. he looked both irritated and embarrassed at the exact same time, which somehow made him even worse to look at.
âyou getââ
âseriously,â he muttered with a grunt, finally glancing at you briefly before immediately looking away again. âitâs hard.â
âi-i mean, itâs hard to breathe.â caleb quickly corrected himself.
zayne exhaled quietly through his nose beside you like he was holding back amusement. you stared at caleb in absolute disbelief while your brain scrambled uselessly trying to process what heâd just admitted out loud.Â
so what youâre sitting on is his...
zayne leaned toward you again before you could recover properly from calebâs admission. instinctively, you leaned backward to create distanceâbut all that did was press your body more firmly against caleb behind you.
that caused a strangled grunt escaping low from his throat, his hands instantly tightening around your hips hard enough to make you inhale sharply. âthat hurtsââÂ
you tried shifting away again, but there was nowhere to go. there was zayne in front of you, and caleb beneath and behind you. zayneâs eyes flickered downward briefly at the way calebâs grip dug into your waist before returning to your face. strangely, he didnât look annoyed. if anything, he looked calmer now. certain.
the faintest flush had spread across the bridge of his nose from the heat, but his gaze remained painfully steady on you. âearlier, you asked what happens if you stop running.âzayne leaned closer still, one hand braced beside your knee against the floorboards. âprove it.â
you stared at him helplessly. âwhat? what do youââ
âprove youâre not running anymore. and if you can do that,â he murmured, âthen weâll leave you alone.â
you swallowed hard. after all these years, after all the distance and silence and pretending nothing happened between the three of youâthey were still here, looking at you like this, wanting you like this. but deep down, you already knew something terrifying. you certainly didnât want them to leave you alone.Â
your teeth pressed lightly against your lower lip. âdeal.â
it was now or never. if they wanted you so bad to prove them otherwise, then let them take it.
before you could stop yourself, your hand lifted toward zayneâs face, fingers curled against his jaw. for the first time since reuniting with them, you stopped thinkingâpulling him toward you to kiss him.
it didn't feel rushed nor hesitant, it just felt like years and years of restrained tension finally colliding all at once.
zayne froze for barely half a second, then immediately kissed you back. harder. âfuck,â
his hand came up almost desperately to cradle your face, fingers spreading gently along your cheek and jaw like heâd imagined touching you this way too many times before. he kissed like a man who had spent years holding himself back. careful at first, then increasingly less careful every second after.
despite everything, there was still something achingly romantic about zayne. even now. even like this. his thumb brushed softly beneath your cheek while his mouth moved against yours, and the tenderness of it nearly undid you completely.
behind you, caleb exhaled shakily. âitâs so... painful,â
you had forgotten you were still sitting against him, pressing against him every time the kiss made you move unconsciously. this time, though, you didnât pull away. if anything, your body pressed more firmly backward on instinct as zayne kissed you deeper.Â
caleb physically tensed beneath you. his fingers dug harder into your hips. âfuck,â he breathed hoarsely, the sound barely registering through the haze that clouded your thoughts.
zayne tilted his head, kissing you slower now but somehow deeper, his grip on your face tightening when you instinctively kissed him back harder. your injured hand trembled weakly against his shoulder while the other remained curled near his jaw.
you could feel his breathing becoming uneven too, could feel the way even zayneâalways composed, always restrainedâwas starting to lose control of himself.
behind you, again, caleb let out another rough exhale. his forehead dropped briefly against the back of your shoulder like he was trying to survive this somehow.Â
you stopped trying to hold yourself back. maybe that was the most dangerous part of all thisânot them, not the attic, not the years of tension finally collapsing into something tangible. but it was you finally letting yourself want them back.
zayneâs mouth left yours only briefly before he leaned closer again, âquite too much for someone who only wants to prove something, no?â breath warm against your jaw as he buried his face near your neck. the scrape of his breathing against your skin alone nearly made your thoughts dissolve. instinctively, your eyes fluttered shut and your head tilted slightly to the side, exposing more of your neck to him without even realizing it. and zayneâs lips brushed there once, slowly. a quiet breath escaped him against your skin, and the sound alone nearly weakened your spine.
but then reality crashed back in all at once. these werenât boys anymore. they were men who had spent years wanting you, years imagining this.
before zayne could kiss your neck again, your hand came up against his jaw and pushed him backward firmly.
the movement startled him, his brows furrowed faintly as he looked at you, lips flushed from kissing. zayne genuinely looked caught off guard, and you stared back at him for one second.
if you were losing control tonight, you were at least going to make it fair.
âlet me,â you leaned downward instead, toward him. but at the same time, your hips deliberately moved backward against caleb beneath you. you started to grind your ass against his crotch in a slow, circular motion, like you were drawing his name with your hips and his growing bulge as the material.Â
instantly, a rough moan caught in his throat as his hands clamped harder around your hips, fingers flexing almost desperately against your skin. âmore... a little more...,â caleb muttered under his breath, but you ignored him on purpose. which only made him grip you tighter.
you bent toward zayne and let your lips brush teasingly along the side of his neck, just enough contact to make him inhale sharply.
this time, you were the one watching him carefully, watching the way his composure cracked apart in tiny fractures beneath your touch.
zayneâs eyes lowered, lips parted slightly as you kissed just beneath his jaw onceâsoft and slowâand you physically saw the tension leave his shoulders, a quiet sigh escaping him, relieved.
beneath you, caleb gave up entirely. âyouâre really g-getting bold, huh,â his head tipped backward while his grip on your hips grew bolder, guiding your movements against him with less restraintâevery small drag of your ass against his bulge made his breathing rougher, hotter.
zayne stared down at you with slightly wide eyes, his breath hitching in his throat as you leaned forward to press your lips against the sensitive column of his neck. he couldn't believe the sheer boldness of youâthe girl who had once fled from them was now claiming them like this. as your lips trailed a searing path down his bobbing adam's apple and over the sharp line of his clavicle, his eyes fluttered shut, and his hands, trembling with a mix of reverence and lust, slid into your hair.
with a low, commanding hum, you pushed against zayneâs chest, forcing him to lean back just enough to create a sliver of space. âlean back.â you say.Â
as you moved, your lifted your bum from caleb's crotch, momentarily breaking the contact. instead, you descended upon zayne, your mouth finding the expanse of his chest. you began to leave a trail of blooming hickies across his skin, teeth grazing his pectoral muscles as you worked your way down the hard, defined ridges of his abdomen.
âyouâre quite eager to prove it, arenât you?â zayne murmured, watching the way you kissed him lower.Â
and while you did that, your lower body continued its job on caleb. you were dry humping him through his pants with a rhythmic pace, driven by a hunger that had been denied for far too long. it made caleb into a moaning mess beneath you, his strength failing him as he braced one hand against the floorboards to keep from collapsing entirely. his other hand was white knuckled, gripping the hem of your tanktop so tightly the fabric strained.
fuck it, you were far past the point of teasing; the ache between your thighs became a sharp, demanding pulse that demanded satisfaction. driven by instinct, you slid your hand lower, trailing past the ridges of zayneâs toned abs until your fingers hooked into the leather of his belt. you were ready to tear it open, to strip him bare, but a firm, warm hand clamped over yours.
âwhat exactly are you doing?â zayne rasped.
you paused, fingers still curled in his belt, and you looked up at him with a defiant glint in your eyes. you intentionally stopped grinding your hips against caleb, leaving him momentarily unanchored. âfunny,â you retorted, your voice a breathless purr. âfor someone who kept on calling me a runaway, you're the one running away now.â
at that, a slow, amused smirk spread across zayneâs face, an expression that made your heart hammer against your ribs. ârunning?â he murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips before returning to your eyes. âyou've finally caught me.â without breaking eye contact, he unbuckled his own belt with a decisive clink, tossing the leather aside to clatter against the floorboards.
you were already breathless, a thin thread of saliva glistening on your lip as you watched him. he unbuttoned his pants and shoved his underwear down in one fluid motion. and the moment his manhood sprang free, it nearly slapped against your cheek, a heavy, throbbing weight that made your eyes widen.Â
he was... massive.Â
âcan you actually take this, y/n?â zayne whispered as he began to stroke himself, the rhythmic schlickof his hand against his skin echoing in the small space. he brings the head of his cock dangerously close to your eyes, teasing you with the scent of his musk.
an instinctive, heavy throb pulsed between your legs, and you felt a sudden, overwhelming rush of moisture. you were fucking incredibly wet, your panties clinging to you as you swallowed hard. but before you could find your voice, you felt a shift behind you. the floorboards suddenly creaked under a new weight.
you turned your head slightly, your breath catching in your throat. caleb was moving, his eyes glazed with a raw hunger as he knelt behind you. he was already unbuckling his belt, his movements frantic and desperate. âdonât think you're getting off that easy,â as he released his own huge cock, he leaned in. âhow much can you even take from us, huh, pipsqueak?â
he didn't wait for an answer. his hands were suddenly on your hips, pulling your shorts down. when the fabric fell, it revealed your white panties, darkened and translucent from how much you were soaking. the sight of your drenched lace made calebâs dick twitch violently. he didn't wait to strip you completely; instead, he pressed the hot, blunt head of his length against your entrance, rubbing the damp fabric of your panties against your swollen clit.
âstill runninâ away from this?â he grunted, a low, needy sound. âbet you canât. youâre too wet.â a high, broken whimper escaped your throat, and your strength gave out, your body collapsing forward until you slumped heavily against zayneâs muscular thighs.
zayne reached down though, his fingers firm and warm as they hooked under your chin to tilt your head back. you were met once again by the intimidating sight of his throbbing manhood. you were too far gone, too lost in the heavy, wet heat of calebâs dick pressing on you to offer any resistance. when zayne leaned forward, guiding his thick, pulsing head toward your lips, you opened for him instinctively. âopen for me.â he pushes into your mouth with a slow force that filled you to the brim.
a soft, helpless moan escaped you around him, and a thin trail of drool escaped the corner of your mouth, glistening in the sunlight. you looked up at him through hazy, hooded eyelids, eyes wide and glazed with unadulterated lust. zayne let out a groan at the sight of youâhis beautiful girl now wrapped around his dick. your hands reached up, clutching at the fabric of his pants as he wrapped his fingers around your head, guiding your movements to ensure you felt every vein of his length.
âthatâs it... just like that. take it all, y/n. show me how much you want it.â his words came to you like a caress, but below, caleb let out a frustrated, needy grunt, his pace increasing as he felt you getting even wetter, the damp fabric of your panties sliding slickly against your clit with every heavy thrust of his hips.
zayneâs head fell back, his eyes squeezing shut as you began to suck him with a slow, rhythmic pace. he was fighting for control, muscles corded and straining as he fought the irresistible urge to simply slam himself into your throat. instead, he gently pushes his hips upward to meet your mouth. and when you finally took him deep enough that the tip of your nose brushed against the base of his shaft, an uncharacteristic, broken groan tore from his throat, his fingers tightening convulsively in your hair.Â
âahh, fuck,â
caleb watched it happen, and a sting of jealousy immediately came through him. he decided to silently reach down, his slender fingers hooking into the side of your soaked panty to shove the damp fabric aside, exposing your dripping, swollen entrance to the cool air. without a moment's hesitation, he positioned his pulsing cock at your opening and began to push.
you instantly gasped into zayneâs dick.Â
âshhh, itâs okay,â he coaxed you.
but caleb hit a wall of resistance nonetheless. you were incredibly tight, your body still reeling from the shock of the sudden attention, and the sheer girth of him was overwhelming. he let out a strained grunt, muscles bunching as he struggled to force his way past your narrow walls. âyou're...too small, too tightââ he hissed through gritted teeth, working hard to breach you, while above you, zayne remained a patient man, his hands steadying your head as he waited for your mouth to finally adjust to the weight of him.
to soothe the tension, you reached up to wrap your hand around the base of zayneâs shaft while your mouth continued to worship his tip. you began to bob your head in a frantic, fast motion, your tongue swirling around him with a desperate hunger. the sudden change in pace caught zayne off guard; he let out a choked, startled sound, nearly swallowing his own saliva as he gasped, âslow... slow down, y/n...â
you didn't listen. instead, you treated his massive length like a sweet lollipop, swirling and sucking with a playful fervor. and zayne could do nothing but revel in the sensation, his head tilting back as he shut his eyes tight, a thin string of saliva escaping his parted lips.
he tasted so fucking good in your mouth.
the sight of you so focused on zayne was the final straw for caleb. a low grunt erupted from his chest, before reaching down, his large hands clamping onto your hips with a bruising, painful grip that forced a small gasp from your lips. then, with a sudden surge of strength, he slammed himself forward, driving his entire length into you in one singular thrust.
shit.
âangghh!â you screamed, the sound muffled by the weight of zayneâs dick still filling your mouth. you were finally, blissfully full, but the sensation was immediately followed by a staggering shock.Â
the moment caleb buried himself within you, he stiffened violently. a ragged, breathless gasp tore from his lungs as he felt his climax hit him with the force of a tidal wave. he was inside you, fully, and he was already coming.
âshit, shit, shitââ caleb choked out, his voice a  broken mess. trembling, his hips continued to thrust in a desperate, involuntary rhythm, but he couldn't stop. even as he pounded into you, he felt the hot, thick jets of his semen pulsing deep inside your womb, a continuous, unending stream that seemed impossible.Â
how could this happen? he had masturbated to you a thousand times, always maintaining a disciplined control, but now, the mere feeling of your heat was undoing him. he couldn't even stop coming; it was as if your body was a vacuum, pulling every drop of his cum from him in one long, continuous release.
thwack! thwack! thwack!
seeing the way his thick cock disappeared into you with every frantic thrust, caleb let out a loud moan. âso tight fâme, youâre going to... kill me,â he hooked a powerful arm beneath your thigh, hoisting your leg high up onto his shoulder to tilt your pelvis back, allowing him to drive into you even deeper. âcan you take this, huh? do you still wanna leave us behind after this, hm?â each time his tip slammed against your cervix, your eyes rolled back in your head, your vision blurring as you struggled to keep your grip on zayneâs dick.
but zayne was not about to let you find your footing. seeing calebâs dominance, he instantly felt competitive. he wasn't just a spectator anymore. he reached down, his fingers tangling firmly in your hair to tilt your head back at a punishing angle, and began to pound his dick into your mouth with a relentless pace. âunghhh...â he groaned, matching calebâs rhythm. âproving it well, arenât you?â
at this point, you could do nothing but cry out, your voice breaking into a series of high, desperate moans and whimpers as the two men relentlessly pounded into you, claiming every inch of you as their own.
â
downstairs, life went on completely unaware.
the previous broken speaker suddenly crackled back to life, making the older relatives cheer in relief while somebody loudly complained that they were in the middle of a sad song before the speaker died. immediately, music flooded grannyâs front yard again, echoing beneath the afternoon sunlight while barbecue smoke drifted lazily through the air.
children ran around the plastic tables with juice boxes in hand, somebodyâs uncle was already tipsy enough to start singing off-key, one of your aunts kept scolding people for stealing food because apparently there were still some late visitors.
granny herself sat proudly near the karaoke television with the microphone in hand, it was only after a few minutes that she suddenly looked around the crowded yard and frowned slightly. âwhere are those three?â she asked.
one of the younger teenagers nearby nearly choked trying not to laugh. another one immediately elbowed him hard. âtheyâre probably still playing upstairs,â the girl answered innocently. except the snickering afterward completely ruined the lie.
granny narrowed her eyes suspiciously. âwhat did you children do?â
ânothing!â which obviously meant something.
eventually, after enough threatening looks from the adults, the truth slipped out in pieces.
they had planned on pulling a prank on the three of you by locking the attic. the plan to leave the three of you stuck there âfor only a few minutes.â apparently, the younger cousins thought it would be funny after overhearing all the teasing downstairs earlier.
granny sighed so deeply it nearly sounded spiritual. âthose poor children,â she muttered while shaking her head.
except she still didnât go upstairs immediately, because one of the older uncles suddenly begged her to sing another song first. and like always, granny gave in.
and completely unbeknownst to everyone downstairsâsomething irreversible had already bloomed upstairs in the attic.
not a fight, not an accident, not even just old feelings returning. it was worse than that, warmer than that. something that had spent years quietly burning beneath distance and growing up.
something that had long been marking you under seasons of summer.
a sunburn.
â
taglist: @roguishcat @meanhamster @aiycnlyme @smeetywerben @agostina2510 @gvillot1ne @pjselee @roastem @emily-1259
Sunburn Pt. 1
- pairing: zayne, caleb x afab!reader - synopsis: sunburns are caused by too much exposure, too much closeness, too much lingering heat. it hurts after the warmth fades. what happens when two men are inevitably obsessed with you? - tags: nsfw content, childhood friends, coming of age, neighbors au, modern au, love triangle, angst, emotional repression, yearning so bad it makes everyone stupid, jealousy-driven, repressed obsession, suburban summer vibes, malewife zayne, golden retriever caleb, slowburn, possessiveness, rivalry, âwho do you like more?â, sexual tension, worshiping, dubcon, touch-starvation, dense!reader, codependency themes, heavy makeouts, m!masturbating, mfm, strictly 18+ - a/n: hi! i'm finally back. i worked on this for over a month and it's pretty damn heavy + plot-driven, so i advise reading this when you're fully free! this is also going to be a two-parter, so stay tuned. (the image is not mine. credits to the rightful owner. would appreciate it if someone tags the artist.) - wordcount: 23.6k part 2 here!!
when you were eleven years old, friday nights always smelled the same.
you always caught scent of soy sauce simmering in the kitchen, charcoal smoke curling into the air from the backyard grill, and somebodyâs perfume lingering near the doorway where all the mothers stood talking too loudly over each other while the fathers argued about basketball games and neighborhood gossip.
your parents called it a âsmall gathering,â even though there were always too many slippers by the front door and too many soda cans sweating on every table. you liked those nights anyway, mostly because they never changed. and especially because you get to hear your aunties and uncles dousing you with compliments about how cute your eyes are.
but they also stayed in their own circles like planets orbiting each other, carrying paper plates and stories they had already told before. meanwhile, all the other younger children drifted wherever they wanted, forming temporary little worlds in corners of the house.
tonight, your world sat cross-legged on the living room carpet. or ratherâtwo boys your age did. you watched them from the armchair nearest the staircase, your chin resting against the cushion while your legs dangled over the edge.
caleb and zayne were sitting side by side beneath the warm yellow glow of the standing lamp, completely absorbed in a puzzle game spread across the floor between them.
they looked nothing alike even back then.
the brown-haired one sat carelessly sprawled on his stomach with his socks mismatched and knees bent in the air as he kicked his feet behind him. he kept stealing pieces from the wrong pile just because he was impatient, humming nonsense under his breath while his hair stuck out in every direction.
âthat one doesnât even go there,â the one with round glasses says for the fifth time.
and the other could only grin at him without shame. âit could though."
âit literally cannot.â
âyou wouldn't know that until we try!"
the black-haired one stared at him with the exhausted disappointment of a tired old man trapped inside a ten-year-oldâs body. even as a kid, he already had that look about him.
neat posture... neatly combed dark hair... neatly folded sleeves.... he handled puzzle pieces like fragile scientific discoveries, turning each one carefully beneath the light before placing it down with precise certainty.Â
you thought they were funny together. caleb was all sunlight, and zayne was all winter mornings. they truly were polar opposites, and yet somehow, they understood each other the most. somehow they still fit beside each other naturally, like they had always been arranged that way from the start.
âyou skipped the steps again,â zayne muttered.
âbecause your steps are booooring.â
âor theyâre efficient.â
âsame thing.â
zayne sighed the kind of sigh adults usually made after paying bills, and it made you laugh quietly into the couch cushion. both boys looked up immediately at the sound you accidentally let out. it was strange, looking back on it now, how quickly they always noticed you.
caleb brightened first, he always did. âhey!" he called, pushing himself upright so fast the puzzle pieces scattered a little. âcome help us!"
âare you losing?â you asked, eyebrows raising.
âweâre winning,âÂ
âyou are objectively losing though,â zayne said, returning his eyes at caleb, as if he couldn't handle the eye-contact with you.Â
you slid off the chair and padded toward them then, stepping carefully around abandoned shoes and empty juice boxes. the carpet felt warm beneath your feet from the heat of too many people inside your house.
up close, you could see the difference between them even clearer. calebâs cheeks looked pink from running around outside earlier, and there was a grass stain near the knee of his jeans with a bandaid on his elbow from some accident nobody had witnessed, but everybody expected. zayne, meanwhile, looked untouched by chaos itself. except for one thing, as there was a tiny pencil mark on the side of his hand.
you pointed at it with a smug look. âhey, you might want to clean that off.â
zayne looked down at his hand like he hadnât noticed, and caleb bursted out laughing. âwow, didn't know the genius makes mistakes too.â
zayne frowned. âitâs not a mistake, pencils transfer residue naturally.â
âthat sounds so made up.â
âitâs literally science, you idiot.â
âbetter than a nerd.â
you sat between them, eyes following the rhythm of their voices. caleb shifted first to make space for you, all easy warmth and careless movement. your shoulder bumped against his accidentally and he froze for half a second before pretending nothing happened. zayne noticed, he always seemed to notice every single thing. his eyes flickered down once before returning to the puzzle board with suspicious concentration.
you, entirely unaware, picked up a random piece. "where does this go?â both boys leaned in immediately, and for one brief second, their heads nearly knocked together over your shoulder.
those friday gatherings still happened every month, or every other week, like clockwork. same houses. same families. same folding tables lined with food nobody waited long enough to cool down before eating. but growing up was sneaky like that. one day you were all sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the carpet arguing over puzzle pieces, and then everybody started drifting into different corners of the house without meaning to.
especially the three of you.
â
you woke up to the sound of chairs scraping against the floor.
for a few seconds, everything felt soft around the edges. sunlight spilled lazily through the classroom windows, warm and golden against your cheek where you had fallen asleep on top of your folded arms. your vision blurred slightly as you blinked awake, eyelashes sticking together from sleep.
reality returned slowly after that. you're in your classroom, and it's a friday afternoon. you lifted your head with a sleepy frown, hair flattened embarrassingly on one side. there was a faint imprint of notebook rings pressed against your skin.
âseriously?â your voice came out hoarse. âyou guys couldnât wake me up?â
âyou looked really dead,â one of your classmates answered from across the room.
another pointed a broom at you accusingly. âplus i didn't know you drool when you sleep. yikes.â
âi do not.â you rubbed your eyes with the sleeve of your uniform, still too drowsy to defend yourself properly. the classroom smelled like dusty chalk, floor cleaner, and afternoon heat trapped between old walls.
outside the windows, the sky had already started turning honey-colored. the prettiest part of school days. you slowly sat upright, stretching your arms above your head until your joints cracked. you pulled out the compact mirror from your bag with a sigh, and you see your hair looking freakingly terrible. one side puffed outward from sleeping while the other remained stubbornly flat against your cheek. you tried fixing it using only your fingers, but it somehow made things worse.
âwow,â it's ridiculous to think how you still look like this at the ripe age of eighteen. after gathering your things, you slipped your bag over your shoulder and stepped outside the classroom into the corridor.
you see students drifting through the pathways in clusters, as their laughter echo faintly between buildings while teachers carried stacks of papers toward the faculty rooms. somewhere in the distance, a whistle blew from the soccer field.
fridays always carried a different kind of tiredness, the kind wrapped in anticipation. normally, friday nights meant the gatherings. the usual routine. your parents dressing up slightly nicer than necessary with trays of food balanced carefully in the car.Â
you exhaled quietly through your nose. for some reason, the thought exhausted you today. maybe it was because your body feeling strangely heavy, maybe it was the headache blooming faintly behind your eyes from sleeping awkwardly at your desk, or maybe it was simply one of those days where existing around too many people sounded unbearable.
you descended the school steps slowly, your fingers tracing absentmindedly along the strap of your bag. honestly, locking yourself inside your bedroom sounded much better tonight. and maybe a movie playing quietly in the background while the sounds of the gathering muffled themselves downstairs. you could already picture it perfectly.
a breeze passed through the campus grounds then, carrying the scent of cut grass and approaching evening. you tucked loose strands of hair behind your ear and kept walking toward the school gates, still half-lost in thought.
âi swear, caleb and zayne are literally impossible to approach.â the words floated past you casually, lightly. like paper airplanes tossed through the air. you almost didnât react at first.
campus gossip traveled fast enough that hearing their names wasnât exactly unusual anymore. still, something about the sudden shift in voices nearby tugged gently at your attention, and before you could stop yourself, your gaze wandered toward the right wing of the campus.
and there they were. caleb and zayne, walking side by side beneath the amber wash of the afternoon sun.
unsurprising.Â
youâd spent nearly your entire life seeing them like this. same neighborhoods, same gatherings, same schools. always somewhere within the same orbit as each other. and yet, every time you looked at them lately, it still startled you a little how much older theyâd become. the boys from your childhood memories now had stretched into something sharper and more defined.Â
caleb predictably moved through crowds without effort, the way sunlight slips through open curtains without asking permission. taller nowâmuch taller than he used to beâwith broad shoulders that filled out the blue-and-white varsity jacket hanging loosely over his basketball jersey, as he smiled at nearly everyone who greeted him along the pathway.
people really greeted him everywhere. a classmate waved, and caleb would grin immediately. someone from the lower years calls his name, and he would point at them in recognition with an easy laugh. even from far away, you could tell how naturally people gravitated toward him. he carried attention like he didnât even realize he had it.
then there was zayne beside him, quieter. where caleb moved like warmth, zayne moved like still water.
he carried several books tucked neatly against one arm while balancing his phone in the other hand, his attention split somewhere between reading messages and listening to whatever caleb was talking about. his glasses rested low against the bridge of his nose, slightly crooked like heâd adjusted them too many times throughout the day.
his sleeves were rolled neatly to his forearms, posture straight despite the weight of the books. everything about him looked composed in that effortless way that somehow made him even more intimidating. still, girls glance at him when he passed, teachers greet him with visible approval, and underclassmen would straighten instinctively whenever he looked their way.
the smartest student in school and the athlete everyone adoredâthe popular duo.
honestly, it made sense. they looked unfairly perfect walking across campus beneath the falling afternoon light, like characters somebody specifically designed to make ordinary people feel underdressed.
you stared for maybe three seconds longer than necessary. you weren't exactly mesmerized, it's just that familiarity sometimes makes people pause. despite growing up beside them your entire life, you still didnât really know them at all. you looked away first, adjusting your bag higher onto your shoulder and continued toward the school gates.
it didnât matter anyway. the three of you were never actually close.
the evening breeze brushed lightly against your face as you quickened your pace down the sidewalk, already thinking about home, about your bedroom, about escaping tonightâs gathering before anyone noticed your mood.
â
by the time you got home, you went straight to your bedroom.Â
downstairs, the gathering slowly came alive piece by piece. you heard doors opening, voices arriving, and laughter swelling louder. you could practically predict the entire night without looking.
you rolled onto your back and stared sleepily at the ceiling. honestly, staying hidden up here sounded perfect. your eyelids slowly began growing heavier. you were just about to fall asleep whenâ
*buzzzzz!*
your phone vibrated beside your pillow, making you abruptly open your eyes. with sleepy reluctance, you reached for it blindly.
the screen glowed against the dim room, and immediately, your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. because the notification said: a text message from caleb!
for a second, you genuinely thought maybe you opened the wrong chat somehow. caleb didn't really text you. sure, you had each otherâs numbers. everybody did after years of family gatherings and school projects and parents insisting on âstaying connected.â
but your conversations mostly lived in the realm of accidental politeness. text messages like... "happy birthday!", "can you send the assignment?", "your mom said dinner starts at seven." that kind of thing... which made the message sitting on your screen feel oddly out of place.
[18:49] caleb: "hey, wya?"
you blinked. your phone remained warm in your hand while you stared at the message. for some reason, your heartbeat suddenly felt embarrassingly loud in the quiet of your bedroom.
why would he message you that? it felt wrong, so you stared at the message again alongside his icon.
more laughter downstairs rose faintly through the floorboards, followed by the distant clinking of plates and someone calling for extra ice.
you hesitated, then typed back anyway.
[18:50] you: "in my bedroom."
you didnât expect anything after that. you were already setting your phone down whenâ
*buzzzzz!*
your eyes flicked back to the screen so fast it almost startled you.
[18:50] caleb: "on my way."
ââŚon my way?â you whispered to yourself, sitting up so quickly your blanket slid off your lap.
what did that even mean? why would he come up?Â
you swung your legs off the bed, already moving. you werenât sure what you were doing, exactly. you just knew you were doing something. your hands started fixing things instinctivelyâpushing stray clothes deeper into the laundry basket, straightening a book on your desk that was already straight, and then shoving your charger under the pillow.
what does caleb even want right now?
a knock on your door sounded.
for a second, your brain refused to process it as anything important. it was as if your body had decided to pretend it didnât hear it at all.
then, another knock, louder this time.
so you had no choice but to slowly reach for the door handle. still hesitating, you twist the doorknob, pulling the barrier open.Â
"hey," and there he was standing in your doorway.Â
he was taller up closeâso much more obvious now than in passing. the hallway light framed him from behind, softening the edges of his varsity jacket and casting a faint glow around his hair. his arms crossed loosely over his chest, smiling. that easy, boyish smile that always made him look like he was about to laugh at something the world hadnât said yet.
âwhy'd it take you so long to open?" he casually remarked, like this was the most normal thing in the world.
you didnât respond. instead, you stared at him. "does mom know youâre up here?âÂ
caleb blinked once, before letting out a short chuckle, shifting his weight slightly in the doorway. "yeah, of course she does."Â
you exhaled. "anyway,â you stepped back into your room, crossing your arms. "what even brings you here?âÂ
caleb followed you in without hesitation, not even a pause. his hand went straight to your light switch and flipped it fully on, bathing everything in warm brightness.
you turned your head sharply. âwhy did you do that?â
âuh, so i can see you.â
âyou couldâve seen with the hallway light."Â
you stared at him, but he wasnât looking at you anymore. he's already walking further in and glancing around your room. you sat down on the edge of your bed with a controlled sigh. âokay, talk. why are you here?"
caleb held up two fingers immediately, like heâd been rehearsing this. "actually, i'm here for two things.â
you narrowed your eyes. âwhy are there always âtwo thingsâ with you.â
âbecause life is balanced,âÂ
âthatâs not evenâ never mind. go.â
he leaned back against your desk, shifting comfortably. "firstly, about the sports day fest.â
you blinked. "...thatâs it?â
âyup."
you stared at him. "you came upstairs, into my bedroom, during a family gathering, just to ask me about sports day fest?"
âwell, youâre on the committee, so why not personally ask you?" he grins.Â
you leaned back, processing that for a moment. âokay, then, what about sports day fest?"
caleb immediately straightened, interest sharpening. "okay so,â he moves away from your desk and paced your room, âare we doing the same relay setup as last year?â
âprobably revised,â you grabbed your phone from the bed, scrolling through your notes. âthe committeeâs still finalizingââ
âwill we not get those ridiculous team shirts anymore?â
âyea, probably.â
âgood,â he said instantly. âlast yearâs were damn tight.â
you looked up. âthey were your size though?"
âway too tight,â he corrected confidently, stopping near your bookshelf and casually picking up one of your notebooks.
your eyes snapped up. âhey, donât touch that.â
he already opened it. "hmm, why not?â
âbecause itâs mine.â
âso?â
you stood up again, walking over to him. "don't touch that, i said!"
he didnât even look guilty. he was flipping through it like it was entertainment. "but this is just your committee notes,âÂ
âexactly.â
âhuh, itâs very organized, i'll give you that,â he whistles.Â
you reached for the notebook and took it back. âthank you, now stop touching things that arenât yours.â
caleb shrugged, unbothered, and wandered toward your window instead. "anyway,â he continued, âare we still doing the obstacle course? because last time someone tripped on the tire thing and it was kind ofââ
âcaleb,â you cut in and pointed at him. âfocus.â
âi am focused.â
âyouâre touching my curtains.â
he glanced down, realized his hand was indeed messing with your curtain tie, and let it drop casually. âokay,â he said, stepping back. âiâm focused now.â
you returned to your bed slowly, sitting down again with a tired expression. "sports day is basically the same structure,â you explained more firmly this time. ârelay, obstacle course, mixed games, but weâre adjusting the scoring this year though.â
caleb nodded, listening intently. you added, âand no, you canât âfixâ anything last minute like you did last year.â
âthat wasnât fixing though,â he combed his hair back with his fingers. âthat was improving morale!"
âby bribing your team with snacks?" you snorted. and he just smiles back, eventually he stopped pacing. which, in your experience, usually meant one of two things: either he was done being chaotic for now, or he had found a new kind of chaos to settle into.
this time, it was the former. he walked over and sat down on the edge of your bed across from you, causing the mattress to dip slightly under his weight. caleb leaned back on his hands, studying you for a moment in a way that made you suddenly aware of your posture, your hair, the fact that you were still wearing your slightly wrinkled shirt from earlier. âhuh,âÂ
you frowned. âwhat?"
he tilted his head a little. âitâs been a while since iâve seen you this close.â
you blinked once. "but you saw me earlier at school.â
âyeah,â he said easily. âbut not like this.â
you didnât ask what âlike thisâ meant. you already didnât like where it sounded like it was going. caleb squinted slightly, like he was comparing something only he could see. "youâve really gotten shorter, it's like you're growing backwards.â
your face went flat at that. âi have not.â
âyou have,â he insisted. âor maybe i got taller. either way, something changed.â
you cleared your throat, trying to avoid the tension in the air. you wonder if he's doing this on purpose, or if he could be a victim to it as well. "so whatâs the second thing you're here for?"
caleb straightened himself, resting his elbows on his knees now instead of leaning back. "oh right,"
you waited as he glanced at you, then away, then back again, deciding how casual to make it sound. "well, iâm having a house party next week.â
"of course you are.â
he ignored that. "and a lot of people are coming, literally anyone you could think of, including zayne's clones."Â
âalso of course.â
caleb watched you for a second, waiting. but you didnât say anything immediately. it wasnât surprising, really. not for him. not for caleb. he was the kind of person who collected people without even trying, just by using his charm and looks.
you adjusted your position on the bed, fingers resting on your blanket. "i see,"Â
calebâs eyebrows lifted a little at that.
you met his eyes briefly. âiâll think about it.âthere was a pause, as if he was reading your answer and deciding what to do with it.
then caleb smiled, not the usual one, but smaller. he shifted forward and reached out before you could react, pinching your cheek like it was an automatic reflex he didnât even question. "then... i'll be happy if you come,"Â
you immediately recoiled. âahââ
"think about it, okay?"
you rubbed your cheek consciously. âyou didnât have to pinch me.â
âi did,â he stood up now like the conversation was naturally ending. "it was necess-uh-ry, so think about it hard. if you aren't there, i'll burn my house and mom will blame you."Â
"is my presence really that important?" you chuckled offhandedly, but the next thing that comes out of caleb's mouth was something you didn't see coming.Â
"it is," he glances at you over his shoulder with a cheeky smile. "rest well and drink your meds, pipsqueak."Â
and then, just like that, he leaves your room.
â
calebâs house looked completely different at night, like somebody had taken the familiar shape of it and dipped it into glittering lights and loud music until it became something unreal.
you stood near the front gate for half a second too long, staring at the amount of cars lining up the street. you suddenly understood what caleb meant by âa lot of people.â apparently, âa lotâ meant half the school population.
âcome on,â one of your classmates laughed beside you, tugging your sleeve. âdonât freeze nowâyou're the one who dragged us here,"
when you followed them inside, just as instantly, warmth crashed into you. warm lights, warm air, warm noise. and lots of people everywhere! students crowded the living room shoulder-to-shoulder, conversations overlapping into one giant buzzing blur while music echoed through the walls loud enough to rattle your ribs. somebody cheered from somewhere near the kitchen, somebody else was already filming videos with flash on.
you stepped carefully through the chaos, trying not to bump into anyone.
honestly, it was kind of overwhelming. you adjusted the hem of your outfit nervously. you had spent way too long deciding what to wear tonight only to immediately regret every clothing decision the second you walked in. still, your classmates kept talking excitedly around you, so you tried to relax. somewhere in the back of your mind, one thought repeated quietly: whereâs caleb?
you hadnât seen him once since arriving. which, honestly, made sense. this was his environment anyway. of course he was busy.
you glanced around again, seeing unfamiliar faces moving endlessly beneath colored lights. then suddenlyâyour classmates disappeared on you. one moment they were beside you, the next moment somebody had pulled one of them toward the dance floor while another vanished into the kitchen crowd, and somehow the current of the party separated you from all of them without warning.
you came to a halt. fuck, where are they?
all you could see were moving shoulders, flashing lights, strangers laughing too loudly over music that kept swallowing every thought whole. panic flickered in your chest, enough to make your stomach tighten.
great. now you were alone.
you pulled your phone from your bag, already considering texting caleb, but then immediately paused.
no, he's absolutely unreliable right now. he was probably halfway across the house entertaining fifty different people at once.
you sighed quietly and slipped your phone back away. okay, fine, you could handle this.
you tried moving forward again, weaving carefully through the crowd while searching for somewhere quieter to stand. except every direction somehow looked louder than the last. you attempted squeezing past them, and immediately somebody bumped your shoulder, now another person nearly stepped on your shoe.
the crowd swallowed space way too quickly, pushing and shifting around you like waves. âsorryâ excuse meââ your voice disappeared instantly beneath the music. you tried moving faster, and then suddenlyâyou feel a hand wrap around your wrist.Â
you turned, already halfway prepared to elbow some random stranger out of self-defenseâonly to freeze.
oh, of all people.Â
for a second, your brain genuinely forgot how to function properly. because seeing zayne at school and seeing zayne at a house party were apparently two completely different experiences.
first of allâthe black shirt. it fit too well, sleeves hugging the shape of his arms in a way that looked unfairly distracting beneath the dim party lights. no rolled-up uniform sleeves tonight nor a neatly buttoned school attireâjust dark fabric stretched across broad shoulders that had definitely gotten wider since high school started, whether you noticed gradually or all at once.
he looked taller somehow too... or maybe the crowd just made him stand out more. either way, he looked painfully out of place against the chaos of the party.Â
you're only brought back to reality when zayne glanced briefly toward the crowd, letting go of your wrist, the sudden movement startling you out of your dazeâhe must've been staring at you that long too. his gaze pressed around the two of you before looking back down at you.
then, without saying a word, he motioned lightly with two fingers for you to follow him. and you could only nod.
he stepped ahead first, guiding a path through the crowd while you followed closely behind him. people shifted instinctively when they noticed him approaching, parting easier somehow compared to when you had tried surviving the dance floor alone thirty seconds ago. you noticed the looks too, how most of the girls glanced at him openly. some even whispered things to each other after he passed.
it's annoyingly understandable. especially tonight. especially with that shirt.
you were still internally judging him for the shirt when suddenly, you feel his hand hovering lightly near the small of your back, guiding you in the quietest possible way.
your entire spine immediately became aware of itself, which was ridiculous because technically he wasnât even touching you. except every now and then, when the crowd tightened too closely, his palm would briefly brush against your back to steer you forward before disappearing again.
you focused very hard on walking normally.
eventually, the music softened as zayne led you toward the corner of the house near the back hallway. the lights here were dimmer and calmer with fewer people crowding the space.
gosh, you could finally breathe again.
you turned toward him at the exact same moment he turned toward you.
âwhy are youââ âdid calebââ both of you spoke simultaneously, and then meeting at the exact same pause.
a tiny silence settled between you, before you waved awkwardly toward him first. âyou go ahead.â
zayne blinked once. and for one brief second, you caught the almost-smile forming in his features. the faintest crack in his usual composed expression, like he was stopping himself from chuckling. unfairly handsome beneath the warm hallway lighting.
âdo your parents know youâre here?â he asked.
you stared at him. ââŚthatâs your question?â
âitâs an important question.â you remained silent though, trying to read through zayne's expression. âanswer it.â
you crossed your arms. âyes, they know.â
zayne studied your face for half a second longer, like he was checking if you were lying, before nodding once. âi see.â
you narrowed your eyes. âwhy are you.. acting like my probation officer?"
âbecause,â he said calmly, âyou looked one inconvenience away from getting kidnapped out there.â
you opened your mouth in immediate offense. "i was handling it just fine.â
zayne glanced toward the crowded living room where you had very visibly been fighting for survival thirty seconds ago, then back at you. ââŚwere you?â
you pressed your lips together, which, unfortunately, was basically an admission of defeat. zayne noticed, he had always been annoyingly observant like that. his gaze lingered on your face for a second longer, calm and unreadable, while the music from the other room pulsed faintly through the walls behind him.
you cleared your throat first, mostly because you refused to let him win this interaction. "anyway,â you said quickly, âwhat brings you here?â
zayne leaned one shoulder against the wall beside you. âcaleb invited me.â typical zayne. talking to him sometimes felt like trying to pry information out of a locked vault using emotional guesswork.
with a quiet sigh, you walked toward one of the empty tall chairs near the kitchen island and climbed onto it carefully, resting your elbows against the counter while observing the chaos happening from a safer distance. from here, the party looked less overwhelming. people moved beneath the colored lights like blurry scenes inside a movie montage.Â
zayne sat beside you a moment later, close enough that you could feel the quiet warmth of his presence beside your arm.
neither of you spoke for a while. surprisingly, it wasnât awkward. it was rather comfortable in that strange unfamiliar way silence sometimes becomes when shared with the right person. your eyes wandered idly around the kitchen island before stopping on something abandoned near the fruit bowl.
a deck of cards.
âyouâre into those?â
you hear zayne ask, in which you nodded to. âyeah, card games are kinda my thing.â
âhm.â
you tilted your head slightly. âwhat about you?â
zayne shook his head once. âno.â
âthen why do you sound interested?"
his expression shifted almost imperceptibly. "i know a few tricks,âÂ
ââŚooh, what kind of tricks?"
zayne didnât answer verbally. instead, he extended an open palm toward you. for some reason, the gesture alone made your stomach feel weirdly aware of itself.
you stared at his hand for a second, catching sight of the veins that were faintly visible beneath warm skin under the party lights. without speaking, you grabbed the deck and placed it onto his palm.
zayneâs fingers closed around it smoothly. his fingers flicked through the deck with practiced precision, cards cascading neatly between his knuckles in soft clicking sounds that somehow cut through the distant music around you.
you stared. âsince when can you do cardistry?â
zayne glanced at you briefly. âi get bored sometimes.â then his attention returned to the cards. his hands moved with quiet confidence, slender fingers guiding the deck through intricate motions like muscle memory lived in every tiny movement. cards flipped over his knuckles smoothly before disappearing into his palm again, edges brushing against each fingertip.
there was something oddly attractive about the way he handled them. you watched one card spin neatly between his fingers before snapping back into the deck again, making your mouth slightly part. âthat was kinda cool.â
âkinda?â
âdonât get arrogant.â
the faintest hint of amusement touched his face. zayne tilted the deck once more, cards fanning cleanly between his fingers like unfolding silk. you suddenly became hyperaware of everything at once. the low music, the warmth of the lights, the elegant movement of his hands.
without looking away from the cards, he asked calmly, âimpressed?â
you ignore him, too focused on what he was doing with his hands.
zayne glanced back down at the cards in his hands, calm and composed as ever, before performing another trickâas if elegance simply happened around him without effort. the deck split cleanly between his fingers. one card disappeared, then reappeared tucked neatly between two knuckles of his other hand before flipping itself back into place.
you blinked. "woah, that's shit.â
âlanguage,â zayne finally set the cards down onto the kitchen island, before looking at you properly. from this angle, the neon lights shifted faintly across his face in blue and pink streaks, and his glasses caught the colored light every now and then, reflecting small flashes whenever he tilted his head.
you stared back before you could stop yourself, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. "so do you know more party tricks?â
zayne leaned back against the counter. "a few.â
âseriously?â
âthereâs one involving drinks.â
you perked up. âshow me.â
"...i havenât actually tried it.â
your eyebrows lifted. âthen how do you know about it?â
âiâve seen it.â
you frowned instantly. that answer alone felt wrong coming from him. "wait,â you said slowly, âso you regularly go to parties?â
zayne looked almost offended by the accusation. ârarely.â
âbut you do.â
he sighed quietly through his nose. âcaleb bribes me.â
you nodded, â...that actually makes complete sense.â
âthank you.â
you laughed softly under your breath despite yourself, before leaning forward again. âokay, so whatâs the drink trick?â
zayneâs expression changed enough for you to notice. his fingers adjusted his glasses lightly against the bridge of his nose before he glanced away for a split second. âitâs not really appropriate.â he looked visibly reluctant now, which only made this infinitely more interesting. because zayne never got visibly reluctant.
you leaned closer across the counter, curiosity fully awake. "what kind of trick is it?â
âone your mother would disapprove of.â
âthat makes me want to know more!"
âthat is exactly the problem.â
you grinned, pressing further. "come on, tell me," zayne held your stare, silent and resisting. which only made you more determined. âyou canât just say mysterious things and not explain them.â
âi absolutely can.â
âyou coward.â
one of his eyebrows lifted slightly, then sighed once, slow and controlled, like he had finally accepted defeat. except instead of answeringâhe leans forward, far too close.
one second zayne was sitting beside you normallyâand the next he was hovering near enough that your entire brain short-circuited on instinct. his arm braced lightly beside you against the counter with his face inches away. close enough for you to notice the faint scent of clean cologne beneath the warmth of the room. close enough to see the tiny reflection of neon lights in his glasses. close enough that your heart immediately launched itself into full panic for absolutely no reason.
you jolted backward so fast you nearly lost balance off the chair.
zayne paused at that, blinking as he calmly reached past you to grab the beer bottle and empty glass sitting behind your shoulder.
silence. the realization alone nearly killed you.
ââŚrelax,â he said finally, leaning back. âyou shouldnât be that easily rattled, especially if youâre going to keep provoking me.â
you rolled your eyes playfully. "i was not provoking you.â
âyou called me a coward.â
âbecause, you were acting mysterious.â
âand now?â he poured himself a drink while speaking, amber liquid glinting beneath the lights. ânow i think you enjoy making me uncomfortable.â
you scoffed. âplease, you donât get uncomfortable.â
zayne only hummed quietly like he disagreed. you stayed suspiciously silent after that, watching him instead. which turned out to be a mistake. because observing zayne too carefully was becoming increasingly dangerous tonight.
he stretched one arm toward the nearby side dishes, long fingers reaching effortlessly for a slice of lemon resting beside the drinks. the movement pulled faint tension across the sleeves of his black shirt, subtle muscle shifting beneath dark fabric before he settled back beside you again. then he held the lemon slice between two fingers and said, very calmly, âopen your mouth.â
ââŚwhat.â
âhm.â zayne tilted his head. âcoward.â
your jaw dropped, "you cannot keep using that against me.â
âseems effective.â
you narrowed your eyes at him, but he only waited patiently. his composure somehow made refusing feel embarrassingly childish now.
you huffed quietly through your nose before finally leaning forward slightly and parting your lips just enough. immediately, warmth crept into your face the second zayne slid the lemon slice, carefully, between your lips.
his fingers brushed against the corner of your mouth for only a second, but your entire nervous system noticed. his gaze lingered there briefly before he looked away first, then he glanced around thoughtfully.
you frowned around the lemon. what is he looking for?Â
âone second.â he stood from the chair and walked toward the kitchen drawers nearby, leaving you sitting there in complete confusion holding a lemon slice in your mouth like somebodyâs deeply humiliated house cat.
you watched him pull open one drawer, then another. until finally, he grabbed a small glass jar of... salt? unscrewing the lid, he dipped two fingers lightly into the salt. and only then did realization begin crawling horrifyingly into your brain.
he returned to stand between your knees before you could escape properly. he's way too close like this.
"you said you wanted to know the trick,â and before you could argue again, his fingers brushed lightly against your collarboneâcool grains of salt scattered softly over warm skin.
you sucked in a tiny breath when his hand settled against your hip, steady enough to keep you still. and then he leaned down, licking the salt from your clavicleâhis warm tongue grazed along the surface of your skin, for a second longer than necessary, he sucked on it.Â
your breath caught instantly, a tiny sound escaping you before you could stop it, soft and startled and humiliatingly real.
zayne paused for the briefest second afterward. then slowlyâfar too slowlyâhe lifted his head again, his face close enough that the lemon scent mixed faintly with the warmth of his breath. without meeting your eyes, he leaned forward once more and carefully took the lemon slice from between your lips using his own.
zayne still refused to look directly at you. instead, he reached for the glass calmly, closed his eyes once, and drank the alcohol in one smooth swallow.
the music still played somewhere behind you, and people still laughed. but everything around you felt strangely muffled, as if your brain had wrapped itself in cotton after what just happened. your collarbone still tingled faintly, the memory of his saliva and tongue against the skin ghosting over it.
did that seriously just happen? you couldn't even focus on your own internal monologue, as you noticed the way zayne's brows pinched together ever so slightly as he swallowed hard after the drink, setting the glass down against the counter with a quiet clink. then he coughed once into his fist.
the image of calm, composed, terrifyingly smooth zayne abruptly cracking because of alcohol was so unexpected that your brain physically stalled trying to process it. âhey, are you okay?â
zayne straightened almost instantly. "iâm fine." except his voice sounded rougher now, the faintest flush spreading beneath the sharp line of his cheekbones.
you stared harder. â...are you used to drinking?â
there was a tiny pause, before zayne adjusted his glasses and answered with complete honesty, âthis is my first time.â
what?Â
he looked away briefly, clearing his throat once more. âi said iâd only seen the trick before.â
your eyes widened, "zayne!â he winced faintly at the volume of your voice. âyou made it sound like you knew what you were doing!â
âi did know what i was doing.â
you stared at him in disbelief, a course of guilt rushing down your face. now that you were really looking at him, he genuinely seemed affected. not drunk exactly, but definitely warmer around the edges than before. his composure still sat perfectly in place, yet there was something subtly looser about him now.
"sorry,â you started quietly. âi didnât know youâd neverââ
âzayne!â both of you looked up at the interruption.
a guy from the caleb's team was waving from the other side of the kitchen, already halfway approaching through the crowd. âthere you are,â he said breathlessly. âcalebâs looking for you.â
zayne blinked at him, composure slipping neatly back into place. âwhy?"
âsomething about the speakers. nobody else understands the setup except you.â
of course. even at parties, zayne somehow got assigned technical support duties against his will. he sighed through his nose before standing properly from the chair. for one second, his gaze flickered back toward you. and suddenly the air felt warm again. "donât disappear,â and, before you could answerâhe was already gone back into the crowd.
â
ever since then, for reasons you were oblivious to, both zayne and caleb started treating you like someone they actually knewâwhich was strange considering you had technically grown up together your entire lives. but before, there had always been distance, you know, the careful kind. now, somehow, they stayed.
you, meanwhile, remained catastrophically unaware. because in your mind, this was normal. right? they were childhood friends. technically. and childhood friends probably acted like this all the time.
unfortunately for you, everybody else at school possessed functioning pattern recognition, which became increasingly obvious.
but they had always bickered, hadnât they? except now the arguments felt oddly targeted. caleb would interrupt conversations just to steal your attention away from zayne, and then zayne would correct calebâs exaggerated stories while looking directly at you instead of him.
during the friday gatherings, caleb suddenly insisted you sit beside him during karaoke nights while zayne quietly occupied the chair on your other side before anybody else could. they acted normal individually. but together? strangely competitive. but somehow, you never really fully noticed.
until... the campus practically vibrated with excitement that morning.
music blasted through giant speakers across the field while students flooded the grounds wearing brightly colored team shirts beneath the hot sunlight. you could hear the whistles echoing from afar and how somebody was already yelling into a megaphone because everybody isn't exactly organized.
you, unfortunately, were suffering. committee duties meant running around with clipboards while surviving on pure stress and iced coffee.
âwhereâs the relay list?â
âwho moved the cones?â
directly in the center of it is caleb and zayne being on opposite teams. the universe found it hilarious, because the second the games started, things became unbearably obvious.
caleb played like a man personally offended by the thought of defeat itself, incredibly fast and competitive. he truly is all effortless athleticism beneath the glaring afternoon sun, his jersey clinging slightly from sweat while crowds screamed his name every five seconds.
on the other hand, zayne is somehow equally terrifying. it made no sense because zayne wasnât even the sporty one. yet there he was, calm and calculating beneath the heat, playing with the same frightening precision he approached everything else in life.
they kept watching each other, constantly, like two academically gifted wolves. every single time one of them scored, their eyes immediately searched for you afterward. you noticed that part eventually, mostly because it kept happening.
still, you remained mostly confused rather than enlightened, then came the foul that happened during one of the final basketball rounds, fast enough that everybody gasped at once.
caleb deliberately blocked zayne harder than necessary near the court line, the collision sharp enough for sneakers to screech loudly against polished flooring.
whistles exploded instantly. âfoul!â
âwatch it!â the committee members beside you stood up immediately, except neither caleb nor zayne looked at the referees.
they looked at you. both of them. like somehow your reaction mattered more than the actual game. you stood there clutching your clipboard in complete disbelief. "...what are they doing,âÂ
one of your friends beside you snorted loudly. "fighting over you, obviously.â
you turned so fast you nearly dropped the clipboard. "no they aren't?â
he stares at you for a long moment. âyou... actually donât know?"
after that, it became impossible to unsee. impossible for literally everyone else. once somebody pointed it out, the pattern started unfolding everywhere. in your defense, both boys behaved in ways that were just plausible enough to deny. maybeâ maybe âyou were simply unlucky enough to exist directly between both personalities at once.
â
summer is nearby.
the afternoons stretched longer, with the concrete outside shimmering faintly beneath the heat. even the trees beyond your backyard fence looked sleepy, their leaves barely moving whenever wind passed through.
your laundry basket sat beside you, half-empty now, while damp clothes hung heavily across the clothesline one by one. sunlight warmed the back of your neck as you clipped another shirt into place, fingers smelling faintly of detergent and fabric softener. somewhere nearby, a radio played old music from another house. you liked days like this, days where nobody expected anything from you except folded laundry and watered plants. except lately, your brain had refused to stay quiet.
you clipped another shirt onto the line harder than necessary.Â
the two guys werenât even trying to hide it anymore. and almost everybody seemed to notice it now. even your own mother noticed, judging by the increasingly suspicious smiles sheâd been giving you lately whenever either boy visited.
honestly, it stressed you out. because the problem was you didn't dislike them. rather, you cared about both of them too much to treat any of this lightly. which was exactly why you refused to bring it up first.
because if there truly was something thereâsomething realâthen it should come from them. right? and selfishly, you didnât want the burden of dragging confessions out into daylight only to ruin whatever fragile thing currently existed between all three of you.
you sighed and reached for another damp shirt. inside the house, your mother suddenly called your name.
âcoming!â you shouted back.
the screen door slid open as your parents peeked outside together, your mother already holding her purse while your father jingled car keys impatiently beside her. âweâre leaving for the whole day, okay?â your mother called out. âthereâs food in the fridge!â
you nodded. âokay!â
âdonât forget your laundry outside later!â
âi know!â
a few moments later, you watched their car disappear slowly down the street while cicadas buzzed lazily in the afternoon heat.
silence settled over the house afterward. so you returned to your laundry basket with another sigh. and, unfortunately, immediately started thinking again. about calebâs lingering touches, about zayneâs stares, about the sports day, about that stupid lemon trick.
your face warmed at the memory. âthis is so annoying,â and as if summoned directly from your thoughtsâ
the doorbell rang.
you froze, frowning suspiciously at the gate. you're pretty sure your parents didn't inform you earlier of anyone visiting at this hour...
you wiped your damp hands hurriedly against the sides of your shorts before making your way through the house and toward the front door. the second you opened it, you regretted everything instantly.
because standing outside your gate were caleb and zayne, together.
huh, talk about a coincidence.
your eyes flicked towards the two plastic bags filled with fruits hanging from caleb's arm while zayne carried another smaller bag beside him. sunlight poured over both of them harshly enough that you had to squint. âheya, pips," caleb greeted first, smiling easily the second he saw you.
zayne gave a small nod beside him. âgood afternoon.â you stared blankly for approximately three whole seconds before your brain suddenly remembered your current appearance.
oh, this was horrible.
you were wearing an old white tank top slightly wrinkled from heat, loose boy shorts, and your hair was tied messily on top of your head in the kind of rushed bun that made you resemble an exhausted suburban mother halfway through a sunday cleaning routine!
your entire body now became aware of itself, and judging by the brief silence afterwardâthey probably noticed too.
zayne adjusted his glasses lightly, gaze flickering away for one suspicious second before returning to your face with entirely too much composure. "we brought fruits,âÂ
caleb lifted the bags. âour parents bought too much again.â
âand your mom mentioned nobody would be home,â zayne added.
your eyebrows lifted slowly. ââŚmy mom told you that?â
âshe saw us outside earlier,â caleb answered. âthen she basically assigned us delivery duty.â
that sounded unfortunately believable. you glanced down at yourself again instinctively. big mistake. because when you looked back up, caleb was very visibly trying not to grin.
âwhat?â
ânothing.â
âyouâre smiling.â
âbecause you lookââ zayne elbowed him before he could finish, causing a cough out of caleb to correct himself instantly. ââbusy,âÂ
you stepped outside instead, the concrete warm beneath your slippers as you approached the gate. the metal latch clicked when you opened it halfway, enough for you to reach over and take the plastic bags from their hands. the fruits inside shifted heavily against your arms.
âthanks,â you said, avoiding eye-contact for a second because you were still painfully aware of your appearance.
caleb leaned against the fence immediately after handing the bags over, sunlight catching against his hair in uneven gold streaks. âthatâs it?â
you blinked. âwhat do you mean, thatâs it?"
âarenât you gonna let us in?â
you stared at him. âwhy would i let you in?"
âbecause we carried fruits all the way here under the tragic heat of the sun,â he pressed a hand against his chest. âweâre basically your heroes.â
âyou live just three houses away.â
before caleb could continue arguing, zayneâs gaze shifted past you toward the backyard. more specifically, toward the laundry lines swaying gently beneath the summer wind. he noticed the basket first, then the enormous remaining pile of unfolded clothes still waiting beside the basin.
âso youâre doing laundry,â he observed.
you looked over your shoulder, âobviously.â
there was a small pause before zayne adjusted his glasses and said, in the calmest voice possible, âwe can help you.â
you turned back around so quickly you nearly dropped the fruit bags. ââŚwhat? noâ"
âyeah,â caleb chimed in, straightening from the fence with alarming enthusiasm. âwe have nothing else to do anyway."
âyou do not need to help me with laundry.â
âwhy not?â
âbecause itâs laundry.â
caleb frowned. that wasnât a valid argument at all. zayne remained standing quietly beside him, somehow already looking committed to the task. you opened your mouth to refuse again, but when you glanced back toward the backyard, toward the mountain of clothes still waiting, your shoulders visibly deflated.
caleb noticed. âsee? she needs us.â
âdonât sound so happy about it.â
still, you found yourselves walking through the side path toward the backyard together while sunlight filtered warmly through the trees overhead. you set the fruit bags down onto the small outdoor table near the clothesline, pushing loose strands of hair away from your face as the boys surveyed the situation.
âthis is a ridiculous amount of laundry,â caleb commented.
âweâre entering summer,â you replied. âthe bedsheets multiply during summer somehow.â
âscientifically impossible,â zayne murmured.
âtell that to my mother."Â
caleb carries the heavier basin closer to the line while zayne organized the clothespins into neat little rows because apparently even laundry required structure in his mind. you couldnât help glancing at them every now and then in faint disbelief. it felt strange, domestic in the oddest way. it's the kind of scene that wouldâve looked completely normal if you were all ten years old again.
except now, both boys were taller than the clothesline poles and looked unfairly attractive beneath the afternoon sun.
âzayne!â water splashed suddenly across calebâs side.
zayne paused, one sleeve still damp from where heâd accidentally flicked water while wringing a shirt. âthat was unintentional,â
caleb looks down at himself. ââŚbro.â before you could even react properly, he lets out a troubled snicker and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in one smooth motionâonly to show underneath was only a fitted white sleeveless undershirt clinging against his frame from the heat.
now you understand why almost the entire female population of your school acted clinically insane around him.
you turned your face away. far too late, unfortunately, as caleb definitely noticed your reaction. his grin widened. âwhy are you looking away?â
âiâm not.â
âmhm.â
you focused aggressively on clipping towels onto the line. surprisingly enough, the boys werenât fighting today.
zayne just sighed quietly and rolled his sleeves upward toward his elbows before eventually pushing them all the way near his shoulders. the motion revealed clean forearms lined faintly with veins beneath warm skin. he reached for another shirt. âif you keep teasing her, sheâll stop letting us help.â
caleb laughed. âshe likes us helping.â
âi never said that.â you cut in.
âwell, you didnât have to.â
you ignored the dog's remark and crouched over the basin with a tired sigh. things always had a different plan for you, though.
one second you were lifting it carefully from the ground, and the next, cold water came crashing against your front with a sharp splash that made you gasp aloud. the weight of it soaked through your tank top instantly, thin white fabric clinging embarrassingly fast against your skin.
âshitââ you completely froze as you felt itâthe damp cling of fabric, the cool air against exposed skin underneath, and the way your brassiere is now far more visible than it had any right to be.
slowly, you looked up, only to find both boys staring. caleb had gone unusually quiet. his easy smile disappeared somewhere between surprise and something else entirely, his gaze lingering for half a second too long before darting upward again. beside him, zayne looked equally caught off guard, though his reaction was quieter. his hand still held a clothespin loosely between slender fingers, unmoving, while his eyes flickered downward once before carefully returning to your face.
neither of them spoke. and the silence made heat rush violently into your cheeks.
you crossed your arms over yourself instinctively, suddenly aware of every inch of your body beneath the sunlight. the backyard no longer felt breezy or playful or safe. it felt small. âiâll just go get another shirt,â you muttered quickly, already turning toward the house before your embarrassment could fully consume you.
except zayne spoke first. âiâll come help you.â
your steps halted, turning to him. âhelp me⌠change?â the second the words left your mouth, caleb choked on air beside him.
zayne blinked once, gathering his words much more carefully. âthatâs obviously not what i meant.â
before you could answer, caleb suddenly stepped forward and grabbed the shirt heâd tossed aside earlier. his white undershirt stretched faintly against his chest as he walked to you. âor,â he holds the shirt out toward you, âyou can just wear mine.â
you stared at him, then unfortunately at his big arms for one treacherous second before forcing your eyes upward again. âcalebââ
âitâs clean,â he added quickly. âwell, mostly.â
zayneâs gaze shifted toward the shirt in calebâs hand, expression unreadable. then, without a word, he began unbuttoning his own overshirt.
your eyes widened. ââŚwhat are you doing?"
âoffering a better option.â
caleb let out a laugh of disbelief. âyouâre kidding.â
âhers is soaked,â zayne rolls his sleeves downward again before shrugging the dark overshirt from his shoulders. âmine actually covers properly.â
the air changed after that, just enough for you to feel it settle heavily between them. both boys met each other's eyes, and suddenly you felt less like a person and more like the center of a very polite war.
caleb returned his gaze towards you, shirt still held loosely in one hand while the other rested against his hip. âtake mine, itâll be more comfortable.â
before you could even process that, zayne moved too, closer to your other side. âmine is larger, youâll feel less exposed.â
your heartbeat stumbled stupidly, because now they were both standing close enough for you to feel heat radiating from either side of you. close enough that their voices dropped lower naturally beneath the summer stillness. somewhere above, the laundry fluttered softly in the wind while water continued dripping from the hem of your soaked shirt onto the concrete below.
you looked between them helplessly. it's really ridiculous how both of them were standing in your backyard wearing sleeveless undershirts, how your soaked tank top clung colder against your skin as you glanced between the two shirts again.
if you were choosing purely based on practicality... zayneâs was the obvious answer. it was larger, plus it wasn't damp. trying very hard not to think about the implications of literally wearing one of their clothes, you slowly reached toward zayneâs offered shirt.
*buzzzzz!*
all three of you paused.
zayne reaches into his pocket, already looking mildly irritated by the interruption. he checked the screen.
caleb leaned slightly. âwho is it?â
âmy tutor.â
you and caleb both stared at him. ââŚright now?âÂ
âtutor advance classes,â zayne answered flatly, âi forgot.â he really had always been terrifyingly academic. the type to voluntarily attend extra classes during the last few months of school while the rest of humanity tried surviving the heat without collapsing. still, there was the faintest tension in his expression. one of reluctant annoyance, subtle enough.
âis it important?â you asked.
zayne looked at the screen for another second too long before finally answering, âyes.â he didnât sound too happy about it.
caleb whistles, "that's brutal."
for one tiny moment, zayneâs eyes flickered back toward you, toward the hand that had almost reached for his shirt earlier. something unreadable crossed his face. quiet satisfaction, maybe. or maybe you imagined it.
without another word, he slowly slid his overshirt back on, rolling his shoulders once as the fabric settled neatly against him again. somehow, watching him button it back into place felt oddly intimate too. âyou should change before you catch a cold,â he said.
âin this scorching heat?â
âstill possible.â
typical zayne answer.
he adjusted his glasses before turning toward the side gate, but not before giving caleb one brief glance, meaningful enough that you instantly became suspicious. âiâll see you later.â
just like that, the genius left.
you watched him disappear past the front yard while warm wind stirred softly through the hanging laundry around you.
slowly... very slowly... you turned back toward calebâwho was already looking at you. who looked amused, deeply amused. you narrowed your eyes. âaren't you going to follow after zayne and have the courtesy to leave as well?"
caleb leaned casually against the outdoor table, arms crossing over his chest, the shirt that he had offered earlier dangling from one of his hands. âhave you always been this feisty since you were a kid, pips?â
âonly towards you.â
his grin widened. "you really were gonna pick his shirt, huh."
âbecause it was bigger!â you faced your back towards him, hanging the last batch of clothes.
âmhm.â
âand it covered more.â
âsure.â
you stared at him in offense while he laughed softly under his breath. the worst part was how unfairly pretty he looked doing it. summer sunlight caught against the loose strands of hair falling over his forehead while his shoulders shook lightly with amusement. and then, his gaze drifted downward for a split second toward your still-soaked shirt before immediately lifting back to your face. the shift was quick, respectful even, but you still caught it.
by the time the last batch of laundry was finally finished, the afternoon sun had softened into something warmer and slower. the backyard smelled faintly of detergent and sun-dried fabric now. bedsheets swayed overhead in lazy motions while the remaining drops of water glimmered along the concrete beneath the clotheslines.Â
you bent down with a small sigh, reaching for the empty basins stacked beside the faucet. your shoulders ached slightly from standing too long. âfinally,â you muttered. âiâm never washing clothes again...â you glanced back to find caleb watching you from beside the outdoor table, amusement tugging lazily at the corner of his mouth. his hair had dried messily beneath the heat.
you looked away immediately. before you could properly walk past him, caleb stepped into your path.
you look up at him with a curious gaze. âmove.â
âno.â
âcaleb.â
âyouâre still so soaked.â
you frowned down at the wet shirt sticking annoyingly to your frame. âiâll just change inside.â
âlet me do it for you.â
âno need, cay.â before you could sidestep him, caleb leaned closer, close enough to make your pulse trip over itself.
instinctively, you stepped backward, and he kept on trapping you until your back bumped lightly against the screendoor, the sound making both of you pause.
âsit down for a second.â he said. despite yourself, though, you glanced toward the small wooden chair nearby. caleb's grin softened into something quieter. âcâmon.â
you huffed softly through your nose before finally setting the basin aside and dropping onto the chair with reluctant defeat. âsuch a bossy old man,âÂ
âyou love it.â caleb laughed under his breath before crouching slightly in front of you. then his fingers caught the hem of your soaked tank top.
you freeze at the gesture, eyes widening at him.
âcan i?â the question shouldâve embarrassed you more than it did. maybe it was because this was caleb, or maybe it was because the summer heat had melted your common sense hours ago.
either way, after a second, you gave the smallest nod. almost awkwardly now, he guided the damp fabric upward while keeping his eyes shut tight like it physically pained him to peek. you helped tug the wet shirt free before quickly pulling his shirt over yourself afterward.
the fabric smelled like him. it made you warm.
âokay,â you mumbled weakly. âyou can look now.â
caleb opened his eyes slowly, smiling. he crouched lower until he was nearly eye-level with you, one knee pressed against the concrete while he wrung your soaked shirt carefully between both hands. water dripped steadily onto the ground beneath him.
out of the blue, caleb laughs under his breath, though it didnât sound entirely happy. âyou know,â he started, twisting the fabric tighter, âi donât really like how you are around zayne.â caleb kept his eyes lowered toward the shirt in his hands. there was still a smile on his face, but it looked strange now, thinner around the edges.
âwhatâs that supposed to mean?â you asked.
he shrugged one shoulder. âi don't know, you listen to him more.â
âno, i don't.â
âyes, you do.â his voice stayed light, casual almost, but something underneath it tugged too tightly. âwhen he tells you to sit still, you sit still. when he says something, you get all quiet and nice. you even looked so ready to wear his shirt earlier without arguing.â
he glanced up finally, brown eyes warmer than the afternoon sunlight spilling across the backyard. âbut with meâŚâ he smiled faintly. âyouâre really mean.â the smile on his face remained there stubbornly, but now it looked almost brittle. like he was trying very hard to keep things playful even while something heavier sat underneath every word.
the distant hum of cicadas still filled the spaces between words. for a while, caleb only stared at the fabric, listening to it. and then he laughed softly to himself. âyou know whatâs crazy? that party i threw a few weeks ago?â
your stomach immediately tightened. â...what about it?"
his fingers stilled against the shirt. âdid you really think i didnât see?â
âsee what?"
caleb stared at you for a long second, the smile disappearing from his face entirely. and suddenlyâsuddenly he didnât look playful anymore. he looked serious in a way that made your heartbeat stumble. âzayne,â he said quietly. âwith you.â
your breath caught.
caleb leaned back against his heels. âi saw him take you away from the crowd, and i saw him touch you. you think i didnât know what he was doing?â his jaw tightened faintly before he continued. âi went looking for you because you disappeared. then i found the two of you in the kitchen.â his gaze dropped briefly toward your neck. âand i saw him licking you off,âÂ
the bluntness of it made heat rush violently into your face. caleb looks away, running a hand through his hair roughly before laughing again under his breath. âgod, i was so pissed.â you stared at him, because you couldn't say anything. anything at all. what else is there to say? deny what he saw? you knew it was true. tell him it was an accident? both of you and zayne were fully sober. he looked hurt, really hurt. âi wanted to punch him.â
your eyes slightly widened at that.
âiâm serious,â he said, looking back at you. âbut i couldnât even bring it up because what was i supposed to say, huh? âhey, i saw the girl i like with my best friend and it made me feel insaneâ?â he exhaled sharply through his nose before leaning closer, close enough that your breath caught on instinct.
âdo you know how hard it was pretending i didnât care after that?â his eyebrows deeply furrowed, purple eyes holding yours. âwatching you act normal around him after he did something like that to you?â his voice lowered further. âand the worst part isâŚâ his fingers loosened from your shirt completely, dropping the damp fabric beside the chair before his left hand settled against your waist instead. âwould it be unfair if i wanted the same thing?â
your breath hitched when his grip tightened ever so slightly before he leaned in further, head tilting slowly toward the side of your neck. you could now feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, but apart from that, you also felt the hesitation. unlike zayne, caleb was expressive and emotional. you could practically hear the conflict happening inside him.
wanting. waiting. holding himself back.
his lips ghosted just barely against your skin, and your fingers instinctively caught against the edge of the chair beneath you. and then suddenlyâcaleb forms a crooked smile, and pulled away.
you blinked at him in stunned silence while he leaned back again, laughing quietly under his breath like he was mocking himself. âsee? i canât do it.â he murmured. âbecause iâm not like zayne.â his hands slid slowly from your waist, trailing down your arms with unbearable gentleness before settling briefly against your knee. âheâs calm when he wants something, he thinks first, plans first.â
his thumb brushed lightly against your skin, drawing lazy circles across the surface. âbut me? i just feel everything." you didnât know what expression you were making. maybe none at all. maybe that was the problem.
while caleb sat crouched in front of you with his hands still lingering against your knee, your face remained unreadable beneath the soft sunset light. your heartbeat was loud enough to make your chest ache, but outwardly, you only stared back at him. somehow, your silence seemed to unravel him more than rejection would have.
you could practically see the conflict worsening behind his eyes, messy and emotional and far too honest to hide. caleb had always been terrible at concealing feelings. even as a child, everything he felt used to spill out immediately through expressions, through gestures, through the way he hovered too close.
âsay something,â he murmured.
you swallowed softly but didnât answer fast enough, before calebâs hand tightened around your knee. âbecause i donât get it.â his other hand rose until it settled against your shoulder, fingers curling there with growing tension. âyou let zayne do things i canât even imagine doing to you, but then you look at me like iâm justâŚâ he shakes his head. âi donât know. easier?â
you frowned. âthatâs not true.â
âthen look at me.â his grip tightened slightly. âlook at me when iâm talking to you.â
you finally lifted your eyes fully toward him, and immediately wished you didn't. he looked vulnerable in the ugliest, rawest way possible. like jealousy had been eating at him quietly for weeks and heâd finally lost the ability to keep swallowing it down.
âiâm different from him, you know that, right?â his thumb pressed lightly against your shoulder as if trying to anchor you there with him. âzayne acts like heâs in control all the time. but me? iâve been trying so hard not to lose my mind over you lately."
âcaleb, you're..."
âiâm serious.â he leaned closer again, eyes searching yours desperately. âif youâd just give me somethingâ anything âi swear iâdââ
his hand around your knee tightened again unconsciously, but pain bloomed sharply this time. âcaleb, that hurts.â
and then, everything stopped. his expression changed so fast it almost startled you. the frustration disappeared first, followed by the desperation. then whatever reckless emotion had been pushing him forward moments ago.
caleb looked down at his own hand gripping your knee like he genuinely didnât recognize it. like he didnât recognize himself. and suddenly he let go so quickly it was almost panicked.
âshit.â
he pulled back, both hands dropping away from you entirely as though burned. horror crossed his face in slow motion while he stared at the faint pressure marks already beginning to form against your skin.
âshit,â he repeated quieter this time. âi didnât mean toââ he stopped speaking halfway through.
because what explanation was there? what excuse could possibly make that better?
you rubbed your knee instinctively while he stared at the motion with visible guilt twisting across his features.
âchrist,â the words sounded directed entirely at himself, as he stood up, fast enough that the wooden chair creaked faintly beneath the movement. caleb drags a hand down his face before stepping away from you altogether, embarrassment and self-disgust radiating off him so clearly it made your chest ache.
âiâm sorry,â he bent down immediately afterward and grabbed the abandoned basins near the faucet, almost too quickly, like he needed something physical to focus on. âi got carried away,â he muttered while stacking them together. âthat was shitty.â
you opened your mouth slightly, but no words came out. seeing caleb like this felt strangely awful. heâd gone from intense and overwhelming to withdrawn within seconds, every bit of earlier confidence collapsing inward now that he realized heâd frightened you.
he kept his back turned afterward while carrying the basins toward the side of the house. and for the first time since this strange complicated thing between the three of you beganâcaleb looked genuinely ashamed of wanting you so much.
â
the basins were stacked back into their corners, and the faucet had stopped dripping. the laundry danced beneath the evening breeze while the last traces of sunlight melted into warmer shades of orange across the neighborhood rooftops.
you stood quietly near the gate, fingers curled loosely around the metal bars as you watched caleb leave. he walked with his hands tucked into his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched beneath the fading sunlight as he made his way back toward his own street a few houses away. from behind, he looked strangely boyish again despite everything that had happened earlier. not the schoolâs golden athlete, not the loud charming boy everybody loved, but just caleb. your childhood neighbor.
you looked down afterward. the faint marks around your knee had already begun fading beneath your skin, barely visible now unless you focused on them carefully. you knew what happened earlier shouldâve unsettled you more. it shouldâve frightened youâthe way caleb lost control for a second there.
but strangely enough, fear never came, for all you could remember was the expression on his face afterward.Â
everything between the three of you had become so complicated lately. and somehow, you felt guilty too. guilty because part of you understood why caleb was unraveling. guilty because you kept letting both of them stay close while pretending not to notice the obvious. guilty because maybe you did treat zayne differently.
you groaned under your breath. âthis is so messy.â
that evening, normalcy returned little by little. your parents came home carrying grocery bags and stories from wherever theyâd spent the day while the house filled with the comforting smells of dinner cooking in the kitchen. you helped prepare the table while your mother talked endlessly about traffic and your father complained about the heat.
it felt ordinary and safe again.
the soft yellow lamp near your bedroom desk cast warm light across the walls while the curtains fluttered gently from the open window. outside, summer night hummed through the neighborhoodâdistant barking dogs, cicadas hidden somewhere in trees, and the faint sound of somebodyâs television drifting from another house.
you exhaled the second your bedroom door shut behind you. your body practically melted with exhaustion as you walked toward your bed, already reaching for your phone when suddenlyâ
*buzzzzz!*
your brows furrowed, glancing down at the screen.
you genuinely wondered if you were hallucinating, because zayne rarely called people, he barely even texted first unless it was academic or medically necessary. and more importantlyâhe had never called you before.
your thumb hovered uncertainly over the screen before curiosity won. you answered the call and lifted the phone toward your ear while sitting down onto your bed. âhello?â
for a moment, only soft static answered. then, zayneâs voice came through the line, low and slightly hoarse. âdid i wake you?â
you immediately sat straighter for absolutely no reason. âno, whatâs up?â
there was a brief pause on the other end before he spoke again. âi think i left my watch there.â
ââŚyour watch?â
âi took it off while helping earlier.â
your eyes drifted toward the window, as if the watch might magically appear outside in the dark backyard. it was probably still near the laundry areaâexcept the thought of going downstairs again felt genuinely devastating. you groaned softly and fell backward against your pillows. âcan i just give it back tomorrow morning?â
another quiet pause. then, âthatâs fine.â you could practically picture him nodding to himself on the other side of the call. âthanks,â he added afterward.
your fingers reached automatically toward the small nailcare basket sitting near your bedside table. absentmindedly, you pulled it onto your lap and started sorting through tiny bottles and nail files while balancing the phone against your shoulder. âsure, no probs,â
the silence afterward shouldâve ended the conversation. normally, zayne wouldâve hung up already. that was how he worked, oh so efficient and straightforward. except when you thought he already ended the call, you noticed his caller id still ongoing after several seconds passed.
you frowned. ââŚanything else?â
a soft sound came from the other end. a hum, maybe. âwhat are you doing?â your hand paused midair over the nail polish remover. for a second, you genuinely thought you misheard him. because this was not a zayne question, at all.
this was the kind of question normal teenage boys asked when they wanted conversations to keep going. meanwhile, zayne is a teenager, but he usually spoke like every sentence had been academically pre-approved beforehand.
ââŚiâm cleaning my nails,â you answered slowly.
another hum. you could also hear faint rustling on his side of the line too, like sheets shifting softly. and the image of zayne lying on his bed with his glasses slightly crooked nearly distracted you.
what a dangerous thought. you focused aggressively on your cuticles, before his voice came again.
âdid you eat already?â
your fingers stopped moving, staring blankly at your nail file. âuh, yeah, during dinner.â
âgood.âÂ
silence settled again afterward, but strangely enough, it didnât feel awkward. through the phone, you could hear the faint sound of his breathing every now and then. it was strangely calming beneath the soft nighttime sounds drifting through your bedroom window.
âyou sound tired,â you murmured.
âi am.â
âhow were your classes?â
zayne sighed on the other end, and the sound traveled straight through your chest for some unfair reason. âlong.â
you smiled faintly to yourself while pushing back your cuticles. âthat sounded miserable.â
âindeed it was.â
âpoor zayne.â
âdonât mock me.â
âiâm being supportive.â you laughed quietly before catching yourself. unbeknownst to you, miles away in the quiet dimness of his own bedroom, zayne had stopped doing work a long time ago.
his textbooks remained abandoned near the edge of his desk, untouched for the past twenty minutes while warm lamplight spilled across scattered papers and half-written notes. instead, he sat leaning back against the headboard of his bed in an oversized white shirt and dark sleeping pants, one knee drawn upward beneath the blankets.
his phone rested against his ear. and despite himselfâhe hadnât hung up yet. the pen between his fingers rolled habitually over his knuckles while he listened to the soft sounds on your side of the line. your quiet breathing, and the occasional rustling whenever you shifted against your bedsheets.
zayne liked you most in moments like this, in unguarded moments. âi should apologize.â zayne broke the silence.
your hand paused over your nails. âhm? for what?â
âthe party,â he answered. âfor how i acted.â
ah. the lemon trick. why would he apologize for that now?Â
your face warmed, âoh."
âi crossed a line.â despite the memory, his voice remained calm, but there was still something restrained underneath it. âif you felt uncomfortable, i can keep my distance from now on.â
your brows furrowed immediately. âwhat? no." the answer came out far too fast, and you realized it a second later. so did he.
still, you hurried onward before your embarrassment could consume you. âi meanâitâs fine. i was the one provoking you anyway."Â
ââŚso you werenât uncomfortable?â
you sat up straighter against your pillows. âthatâs notâ i meanââ a nervous laugh escaped you instantly, trying to dissolve the weight of your own words. âyouâre making it sound weird.â
âam i?â through the phone, you heard the faint sound of his pen stopping completely. somehow, that tiny detail made your heartbeat worsen.Â
the next words that come out of zayne's mouth were so out of place that it almost had you considering the end call button.Â
âyou should be more careful around caleb.â
âwhat?â
zayneâs tone remained even. âcaleb isnât who you think he is.â
"what does that even mean?â
another brief silence followed, like he was debating whether to continue. âyou think heâs harmless because he acts open about everything, but heâs not.â
your confusion only deepened. âzayne, youâre being really vague.â
âhe hides things better than people realize.â
âlike what?â
the pen clicked once between his fingers. âhe keeps photos of you.â
that made you still. "sorry?"
âi've seen them in his room.â your brain stalled completely, and all you could recognize is the familiar gush of mixed emotions piercing through your stomach. âphotos from school events, family gatherings, random pictures from his phone.â zayne paused briefly. â...sometimes printed.â
âthatâs notâŚâ you tried to find the right words, as if you're looking for a scapegoat to make sense of caleb. because right now, to you, he didn't seem like the boy you knew all along. âthatâs not weird, isn't it. weâve known each other forever.â
zayne hummed, not agreeing, and yet not disagreeing either. âhe looks at you differently when nobody notices, but you donât see it because caleb acts the way he is all the time.â
your fingers curled tighter around the nail file in your lap. for some reason, the image of caleb earlier that afternoon flashed into your head immediately. his hands gripping your waist, the jealousy in his voice, the look on his face after hurting you.
outside your window, summer wind began to stir harshly through the trees. you watch a few of the resting birds fly away.
âyouâre not slow, y/n,â zayne spoke once more over the phone. âi know you notice things quickly.â you sat frozen against your pillows, fingers still loosely holding your nail file. âso donât let caleb fool you, whatever he says about me.â
wait.
your brows slowly met. âwhat do you mean whatever he says about you?â
zayne ignored the question entirely. âi donât like how you are around him.â
there it is. the exact same words that was spoken under the summer heat and the swaying clotheslines were now spoken again into the tranquility of the summer's night.Â
âwith caleb, youâre different.â your grip tightened unconsciously around the phone. âyou laugh louder around him, and you say whatever comes into your head. because you're more comfortable around him. but with me,â the silence afterward lasted too long. âwith me, you act too polite. you're careful around me, like iâm not someone you grew up with.â
caleb had said the same thing earlier, almost exactly the same thing. you stared blankly at the wall across your bedroom while your thoughts slowly started connecting themselves together in horrifying little pieces. caleb saying he didnât like the way you acted around zayne. zayne now saying he didnât like the way you acted around caleb. both of them sounding bitter in nearly identical ways.
zayne had forgotten his watch, which meant he probably came back. your mind replayed the afternoon immediately. because if zayne returned for his watchâthen how much did he hear? did he hear caleb talking about the party? about jealousy? about wanting you? did he hear everything?
the silence on the call stretched longer and longer while realization settled heavily into your chest like stones sinking underwater. the worst part wasnât the possibility that zayne overheard. the worst part was realizing he sounded jealous enough to care.
you pressed your free hand against your forehead slowly. this was getting out of control.
everything between the three of you had started tangling together so tightly that you couldnât even breathe around it anymore. you suddenly missed when they were just boys playing puzzle games at family gatherings, before stares started lasting too long.
âzayne,â you finally said something, closing your eyes. your thoughts were too loud, your chest felt too crowded. and for the first time in a long while, you genuinely didnât know what to say anymore. so instead, you laughed weakly beneath your breath and murmured the only honest thing left in your head.
âyou two are seriously exhausting.â you ended the call.
â
ever since that night, you started keeping your distance, but not in a way that anyone can outright accuse you of avoiding them.
you just stopped lingering after conversations, replied later than usual in group chats. and during friday gatherings, you stayed closer to your parents or the younger children instead of wandering naturally toward wherever caleb and zayne happened to be. at school, you busied yourself with committee work or classmates before either of them could pull you aside into another strange emotionally loaded interaction.
it felt safer that way.Â
lately, everything around the three of you had begun feeling too intense for no reason at all. honestly, part of you still refused to believe it was really about you. you kept telling yourself there had to be another explanation.
maybe caleb and zayne were simply competitive by nature, or maybe years of growing up side by side had turned everything between them into some unconscious rivalry that eventually extended toward you too. after all, the three of you werenât even inseparable childhood best friends. you didnât grow up attached at the hip. they were always closer to each other than they ever were to you.
so maybe you were overthinking this entire thing. their jealousy wasnât really jealousy, you just happened to be standing in the middle of whatever strange tension existed between them. that explanation felt easier to carry, so you chose it. and gradually, over the next few weeks, the distance became noticeable.
caleb still waved at you across campus sometimes, but less brightly now. his texts became more occasional, more restrained, almost like he was forcing himself not to reach for you too often. while zayne returned to acting composed and unreadable, though every now and then, youâd still catch his eyes lingering toward you during class assemblies or committee meetings before calmly looking away again.
by the time june started creeping closer, summer heat had fully settled over the campus grounds. electric fans spun uselessly against the humid cafeteria air while students crowded noisily around tables with melting iced drinks.Â
you sat near the corner windows during lunch, quietly scrolling through your calendar app while picking lazily at your food.Â
committee deadlines, sports fest inventory, motherâs grocery reminder, finals exam week...
you were halfway through reorganizing your weekend errands when suddenly somebody dropped into the seat across from you. âhey.â
you looked up from your phone.
an acquaintance from the sports committee leaned toward you with wide eyes already full of gossip.
ââŚhello, yes?" you said cautiously.
âhave you heard?â
your brows furrowed. âheard what?â
she lowers her voice despite the cafeteria already being loud enough to drown entire conversations. âthe sports committee funds went missing.â
your eyes widened at the news. âwhat?â
âthat's what everyoneâs talking about right now.â
you straightened in your seat so fast your spoon nearly clattered against the tray. âwait, seriously?â
she nodded quickly. âapparently a huge portion of the budgetâs gone.â
that's really bad, especially with sports fest preparations still ongoing. âno way, how does money just disappear?â
your acquaintance shrugged helplessly before leaning even closer. âthe last person who handled it was the committee auditor.â
âmace?â
âyeah. but sheâs saying somebody mustâve stolen it.â
your mind immediately started spinning. the sports committee funds werenât small amounts. there were receipts, records, signatures involved. things like this became messy incredibly fast. âis the faculty involved already?â you asked.
âprobably soon.â she grimaced. âpeople are already accusing each other.â
you stared down at your untouched lunch. somehow, deep in your chestâyou felt a strange sinking feeling already beginning to form.
the entire walk back to your classroom felt strange afterward.
students were already whispering about the missing funds in clusters along the hallway, their voices blending together. every now and then, you caught fragments of conversation drifting past.
ââheard it was stolenââ
ââsomeone from the committeeââ
by the time you reached your classroom, your mood had already soured completely. you slid into your seat near the windows with a quiet sigh before pulling out your notebook and reviewer for the next subject.
this didnât involve you anyway.
or at least, thatâs what you thought.
you had barely opened your notes when suddenly, the classroom door opened.Â
your brows furrowed as one of the sports committee members hurried inside, breathing hard like heâd sprinted across campus. you recognized him instantlyâmaceâs close friend and the current treasurer assistant. his face looked tense in a way that made your stomach twist.
before you could even greet him, he made a direct beeline toward your seat. âdo you have the committee funds?â
your confusion deepened. âwhat?â
âthe missing funds,â he said quickly. âare they with you?â
you blinked at him in disbelief. âno, it's not with me...â
his jaw tightened. âare you sure?â
your expression hardened a little at that. âobviously iâm sure.â around you, classmates had already started subtly turning in their seats. the atmosphere inside the room shifted almost instantly, curiosity spreading faster than fire.
the guy rubbed a hand over his face before lowering his voice slightly. âyou were one of the last people who handled the money.â
you frowned. âbecause i was helping audit it.â
âexactly.â
âthat doesnât mean i took it.â he looked unconvinced. suddenly, irritation started crawling up your spine.Â
sure, a few days ago, you had helped organize records with mace after committee hours, but that wasnât unusual. multiple officers handled budgeting paperwork all the time during sports fest season. âyou're reaching,â you said calmly, keeping your voice level despite the growing attention around you. âa lot of people had access to the funds.â
âbut you were there during the last audit.â
âand so were you.â
that made him pause, then his eyes dropped toward your bag beside the chair. ââŚcan i check your bag?â
the classroom went completely silent.
you stared at him. âyou're joking.â
âi just need to make sure.â his expression remained stubborn and tense, almost desperate beneath the pressure of the missing money situation. âif you didnât take it, then there shouldnât be a problem, right?â
whispers immediately started bubbling around the room. you could feel everyone staring now.
jesus.
your face burned slightly beneath the attention, but more than embarrassment, you felt offended. angry.
still, you knew refusing would only make things worse. so after a long second, you exhaled sharply through your nose and shoved your bag toward him. âfine, go ahead.â
your classmates then leaned forward openly.
the guy crouched beside your desk and started searching through your bag while you sat there stiffly, arms crossed tightly over your chest.Â
this entire thing felt really insulting.Â
you watch his movements stop, before slowly pulling out a thick white envelope from the bottom of your bag.
your brows furrowed immediately. wait, what?
the guy stared at it for one second before quickly opening the flap. âi knew it.â within a second, gasps erupted around the classroom, but you could only feel your heart dropping straight into your stomach.
âno way, y/nââ
âthatâs the envelopeââ
you stared at the money inside like your brain physically could not process what it was seeing. because that envelopeâthat envelope should not have been there.
âwhat the hell?â you muttered under your breath.
the guy stood up abruptly, clutching the envelope tightly in one hand while looking at you with outright disbelief. âyou're a liar and a thief, huh.â
you abruptly shot to your feet. âi am not!â
âthis is literally the missing funds!â
âthat's not mine!â the whispers around the room exploded louder now. some classmates were openly staring while others were already pulling out phones. your pulse thundered violently in your ears, but even through the panic rising inside you, one thought stayed terrifyingly clearâyou know someone put that there.Â
someone must've framed you.
you looked directly at him, jaw tightening. âi donât know how that got into my bag.â
âseriously?â he snapped. âyou expect people to believe that?â
âyes,â you shot back. âbecause i didnât steal anything.â
his expression only hardened further. âthen explain why it was inside your bag.â
âi canât explain something i didnât do!â your voice rose louder this time, frustration finally cracking through your composure while the entire classroom watched like spectators at a live show. âthis is insane, somebody obviously planted that there.â
but nobody looked convinced. not him. not your classmates. not anyone. oh how terrifyingly easy it was for people to turn against someone once suspicion had already settled in the room.
it didnât matter how firmly you defended yourself. eventually, the gossip spread anyway.
by the end of the afternoon, it already felt like the entire campus knew your name for all the wrong reasons. whispers followed you through hallways and conversations suddenly stopped when you passed by. even people you barely talked to were staring at you now with that same awful mixture of curiosity and judgment.
it hurt more than you expected it to, because you knew you were innocent.
you walked toward the faculty building with your jaw clenched tightly enough to ache, forcing yourself to keep your posture straight despite the heaviness building in your chest. students lingering outside the offices glanced at you openly as you passed, and you hated how conscious it made you feel.Â
inside the faculty room, the air-conditioning felt unbearably cold against your skin. your adviser sat across from you with a troubled expression while the sports committee moderator stood nearby flipping through paperwork and transaction records. the missing envelope rested on the desk between all of you like physical evidence in some crime investigation.
you stared at it with growing frustration. âsir, i promise, i didnât steal steal anything,â
your adviser sighed. âwe understand youâre upset, but you have to understand why this looks serious.â
âbecause someone put it in my bag.â
the moderator looked up. âdo you have any idea who would do that?â
â...n-no,â you answered. âbut, sir, why would i even steal committee funds in the first place?ânobody answered that. and somehow, that silence hurt.
they didnât fully believe you either.
you rubbed your hands together beneath the table, trying to steady yourself while the moderator continued asking questions. where was your bag during lunch? who had access to it? why didnât you notice the envelope sooner? were you struggling financially? did you owe anyone money?
each question felt more humiliating than the last, but you answered everything anyway. calmly at first, then desperately. little by little, you started realizing how terrifying this situation actually was.
this wasnât just rumors anymore. of course this was a disciplinary issue. a record.
your throat tightened painfully. âplease,â your voice cracking despite your efforts to keep composed. âiâm telling the truth.â your adviserâs expression softened a little at that. unfortunately, that kindness nearly made you cry harder. you werenât someone who got into trouble.
you followed rules. you worked hard. you stayed responsible. and now suddenly you were sitting here defending yourself against something you didnât even do while half the school probably already thought you were guilty.
your vision blurred, and you looked down immediately, embarrassed at yourself for tearing up in front of faculty members.
god this was awful.
âi would never do something like this,â you whispered, helplessly.
the room fell quiet for a moment.Â
but the faculty room door opening hard enough to make everyone look up broke the silence.Â
you wiped quickly at your eyes as someone stepped inside.
he looked like heâd come straight from running across campus. his usually neat hair had fallen slightly out of place while his tie hung loosened beneath his collar. in one hand, he carried his laptop bag and several printed papers.
your adviser blinked in surprise. âzayne?â
he barely acknowledged the room before looking directly at the moderator. âshe didnât steal the funds.â the certainty in his voice made you stare at him.
the moderator frowned. âand how exactly do you know that?â
without another word, zayne crossed the room and placed several printed screenshots onto the desk. âbecause the envelope was planted in her bag during lunch period.â
the moderator immediately picked up the papers while your adviser leaned closer in confusion. from where you sat, you recognized blurry still images from security camera footage near the cafeteria hallway.
zayne continued speaking calmly. âthere's a security camera outside the student council corridor,â he explained. âmost people forget it exists because it only records the lockers and hallway benches.â
your brows slowly knitted together.
âduring lunch,â he continued, âher bag was left unattended for several minutes while she bought food.â he tapped one of the screenshots. and there-there was maceâs friend. the same guy who accused you earlier, caught crouching near your bag.
âwhatâŚâ you whispered.
the moderatorâs expression darkened while flipping through the timestamps. another screenshot showed him slipping something white into the slightly opened zipper compartment before walking away casually.
âhe planted it himself,â zayne finished.
nobody spoke for several seconds.
your adviser looked completely stunned now while the moderatorâs face hardened with growing anger. meanwhile you sat frozen in your chair, staring at the evidence.
zayne found proof. he actually found proof.
âhow did you even get this?â your adviser asked.
zayne adjusted his glasses lightly, though you noticed how slightly out of breath he still seemed. âi checked the hallway footage after hearing what happened,â he answered simply. âthe timestamps matched the period before the accusation.â
simple. it's as if he hadnât just saved you from a disciplinary record.Â
the moderator stood up afterward, already calling for another faculty member while muttering angrily under his breath about suspension and investigations.
everything around you suddenly became blurry noise, because relief hit all at once. violent relief. your hands started trembling slightly in your lap while you stared down at the papers on the desk.
so you werenât crazy, you werenât guilty.
your eyes lifted toward zayne again. and he was already looking at you, quietly concerned in that restrained way of his.
for a long moment, you couldnât say anything at all.
the faculty room buzzed faintly around you with movement and conversationâthe moderator speaking urgently to another teacher, papers being gathered, chairs shifting against the floorâbut all of it blurred somewhere far into the background.
because your eyes remained fixed on zayne. and his stayed fixed on you. a quiet eye contact stretched impossibly long beneath fluorescent lights and cold air-conditioning. it felt more intimate than every charged conversation youâd ever had with him before.
you looked at him like you were trying to say thank you without words. and zayne looked back like he understood every single thing you couldnât bring yourself to say aloud.
his emerald eyes stayed steady against yours, meaningless and unreadable to most people. but after growing up beside him for years, you had slowly learned how to recognize the subtleties hiding underneath his composure. the way he watched you carefully, like he was quietly checking whether you were still holding yourself together.
it made your chest ache. but as always, you looked away first.
a little while later, after the faculty settled things enough for you to finally leave, you stepped out into the hallway alongside zayne. late afternoon sunlight poured through the corridor windows, warming the polished floors gold.
you walked side by side in silence.
the thoughts within your head still felt tangled from everything that happened earlier. from embarrassment, and relief, and anger to exhaustion. they all sat too heavily inside your chest to untangle properly.
âare you okay?â zayne's voice came out softer than usual. you nodded automatically, even though you knew you werenât okay yet. your throat still hurt from trying not to cry earlier. your hands still trembled slightly from adrenaline. and beneath all of that, there was still the lingering ache of realizing how quickly people turned against you.
you swallowed and kept your eyes ahead. for some reason, speaking suddenly felt impossible.
zayne noticed. but unlike most people, he didnât rush to fill the silence. he didnât push you to explain yourself or force comfort onto you just because the quiet felt heavy. instead, he simply slowed his pace to match yours better, and stayed there beside you.
the warmth of the afternoon sun filtered through the windows in soft stripes across the hallway, catching faintly against the edges of his dark hair and glasses. beside you, his hand shifted slightly at his side.
before it lifted.
for one brief second, it looked like zayne was going to touch you. his fingers hovered uncertainly near your shoulder, hesitant in a way that felt strangely unlike him.Â
but it paused midair, before slowly curling back toward himself instead.
the smallest flicker of restraint crossed his face before he adjusted his glasses, putting that careful composure back into place. âi should go,â he said. âi still have errands to finish.â
you looked at him finally.
up close like this, he looked tired. probably from running around campus gathering evidence for you all afternoon instead of resting or studying like he normally would. your chest tightened again. ââŚokay,âÂ
zayne gave a small nod, stepping back slightly. âi'll see you later,âÂ
you nodded once more and watched him walk away down the hallway.
â
you went home with an empty head and a heavy chest.
the entire walk back through the neighborhood felt muted somehow, you only listened to the way the world had lowered its volume without telling you. you also watched the children still playing outside, somebodyâs dog barking lazily down the street. life continued normally around you despite how strange the day had become.
you hated that.
you hated how quickly people looked at you differently over one accusation. even now, your stomach still twisted remembering it.a part of you wanted desperately to fix everythingâto stand in the middle of campus tomorrow and scream the truth until everyone finally believed you. but another part of you knew it wouldnât matter. once rumors spread, they stayed.
you learned that today.
so instead, you kept your expression blank and quietly entered your house like nothing happened at all.
your parents greeted you from the kitchen while evening news murmured from the television nearby. you answered absentmindedly, slipped out of your shoes, washed your hands, and wandered toward the counter where a bowl of apples sat waiting.
normal things. you needed normal things.
the knife moved carefully beneath your fingers as you peeled an apple in long curling strips, trying very hard not to think about school.
...or zayne.
except unfortunately, your thoughts circled back to him anyway, to the way he walked into the faculty room without hesitation and to the way he looked at you afterward. your chest tightened at the memory. he really went through all that effort for you; the same boy who acted quite distant for years despite growing up beside you. before you could overthink it further, you suddenly set the knife down onto the counter.
your mother looked up. âwhere are you going?â
âoutside for a bit,âÂ
âoutside whereââ
but you were already halfway out the front door.
warm evening air hit your face immediately as you hurried down the street, sandals slapping lightly against pavement while your heartbeat thudded strangely hard inside your chest. you werenât even entirely sure why you were rushing this much.
you justâyou needed to thank him properly.
the neighborhood blurred around you as you walked faster through familiar streets lined with glowing porch lights and flowering plants. eventually, the familiar houses came into view.
calebâs house first, then zayneâs right beside it.
you slowed near the gates. for some reason, your eyes drifted briefly toward calebâs house. the lights inside were dimmer than usual tonight.
strange. you hadnât really seen him around since the accusation incident started earlier. but before your thoughts could linger there too long, you shook your head lightly. that wasnât important right now.
you walked toward zayneâs front porch and pressed the doorbell.
your pulse suddenly felt ridiculous. why were you nervous?
after a few moments, footsteps approached from inside the house before the door finally opened.
zayne looked exactly the same as earlier. same loosened tie and same slightly tired eyes behind his glasses.
had he only just gotten home too?
you noticed the genuine surprise crossing his face upon seeing you standing there. you immediately felt awkward. âuh, hi.â
zayne blinked once, before stepping aside. âcome in.â
once you reluctantly entered, he shut the door gently behind you and turned back toward you again. âwhatâs wrong?â there it was again. that immediate concern. his first instinct was always checking whether you were okay.
âi didn't get to thank you properly earlier,â
and before you knew it, words started spilling out of you all at once.
âsorry, i justâ i really wanted to thank you properly because what you did earlier was really...,â your hands twisted together nervously. âyou saved me in there and i donât even understand how you managed to gather all that evidence so fast, and if you didnât show up i genuinely donât know what wouldâve happened to me because they were already looking at me like i was guilty andââ
you barely even paused to breathe.
âand i know you probably think itâs not a big deal, but it is to me because nobody else believed me and somehow you just... you just immediately knew i didnât do it. so thank you. seriously. i donât think you understand how much that meant to me.â
finally, your rambling slowedâmostly because zayne was faintly smiling at you and the sight completely stole the rest of your words.
you had seen zayne smile before, technically. small amused smirks and quiet little reactions hidden behind sarcasm. but this was different. soft and tender, almost. the kind of smile that made him look suddenly less untouchable somewhat.Â
âhush,â zayne stepped a little closer then, gaze gentler than youâd ever seen it before. âitâs okay,â the single word settled over you so gently it nearly melted every remaining ounce of tension still trapped inside your chest. âyou donât have to thank me that much,â he murmured. âi was going to help you either way.â
his words came to you like a pencil attempting to sketch the smile lines across your features, and you smiled the kind of smile that came naturally after somebody caught you before you shattered. it was small, tired around the edges after the terrible day youâd had, but genuine enough that it softened your whole face beneath the room's light.
and, for all that you are, zayne's expression changed so subtly most people would have missed it. but you didnât, not anymore.Â
the faint curve of his lips slowly disappeared as he looked at you, almost like the sight stunned him more than he expected. his emerald eyes lingered on your smile for a second too long, darkening with something quieter than surprise and far more dangerous.
affection, raw and unguarded.
it hit him hard enough that he actually had to look away. you watched his throat move in a slow gulp before his gaze drifted briefly toward the floor, one hand tightening faintly at his side like he was collecting himself.
zayne never lost composure. and yet here he was, undone by nothing more than your smile.
âthank you,â you said again softly, almost laughing beneath your breath now. âseriously.â
zayne exhaled through his nose before looking back at you. âitâs to make up for what i did.â
âwhat did you do?â
he gives you an uncertain stare. âthe call.â your heartbeat slowed strangely, as you remembered how the late-night conversation went, and the memory settled heavily into the room between you. zayneâs gaze flickered briefly over your face before dropping somewhere near your shoulder. âi pressured you that night.â
you opened your mouth. âzayne, iââ but the words never fully came out.
suddenly, his hands found your waist, warm and firm.
your breath caught at the sudden gesture, as zayne stepped forward until the space between your bodies disappeared entirely, his arms wrapping around you with a restraint that somehow made the intimacy worse. like he was holding himself back even now, like this was already more than heâd allowed himself to take.
you froze, you didnât know what to do with how badly your body reacted to it. he was so tall that your chin tipped upward instinctively, your fingers barely brushing his chest as he leaned down and buried his face against the curve of your neck. warm breath spread against your skin through the collar of your shirt, and the sensation made heat rush violently into your face.
his grip around your waist tightened almost imperceptibly, a telltale sign that he needed the contact more than he wanted to admit. âi didnât mean to make you uncomfortable,â he murmured near your ear. his voice sounded rougher from this close, much deeper.
it slid through you slowly, dangerously.
your fingers curled against the fabric of his shirt. ây-you didnât,âÂ
zayne inhaled at that, the sound brushed warm against your throat. âwith you, i donât really know how to act anymore.â you feel his forehead rested lightly near your shoulder now while his arms remained secure around your waist, and for one dizzy second, you let yourself melt into it, into the warmth of his body, into the quiet intimacy of being held so carefully by someone who spent years pretending not to want you this much.
your eyes slowly fluttered shut. everything felt so soft and close... and dangerously tender...
until the front door opened.
âzayne, whereâsââÂ
your eyes snapped open instantly.Â
and the sight of caleb, who stood by the doorway, hit you all at once.
caleb was there, there behind the man who's hugging you into an embrace. his uniform was half undone, white shirt wrinkled and untucked with dirt streaked faintly across the fabric, and bruises darkened visibly along his arm, his cheekbone, the corner of his lip.
he looked exhausted. beautifully, painfully exhausted. somebody who had finally reached his limit. but none of that compared to the expression on his face when he saw the two of you.
his hand remained wrapped tightly around the doorknob while his tired, lilac eyes locked onto zayneâs arms around your waist.
then... slowlyâto you.
you watched calebâs jaw tighten faintly beneath the bruising near his mouth as his heavy breathing slowed. his eyes dragged downward briefly to where zayne was still touching you before lifting back to your face again. and god, that look nearly hurt to survive through. caleb looked like he had walked into the exact thing he feared most.
his fingers tightened harder around the doorknob until the muscles in his forearm flexed visibly beneath bruised skin.
and when he finally spoke, his voice came low and rough around the edges. ââŚdidnât know you had company.â
immediately, you stepped away from zayne. the warmth of his arms disappeared from your waist too quickly, leaving behind a strange lingering heat against your skin as you stared at caleb standing by the doorway.
up close, he looked worse than you initially thought.
the bruises werenât small. one darkened the edge of his cheekbone while another bloomed faintly beneath the collar of his wrinkled uniform. his knuckles looked scraped raw, reddened skin stretched tight over bruised fingers that was surely caused by hitting something far too many times. even his lip had split slightly near the corner, dried blood staining against pale chapped skin. despite how rough he looked, caleb still looked devastatingly beautiful in that messy, ruined sort of way.
zayneâs brows furrowed beside you too, his expression sharpening the longer he examined calebâs condition.
âwhat happened to you?â you asked before you could stop yourself. worry flooded through your voice instantly as you walked toward him, brows pulled together while your eyes searched over every bruise scattered across his body. âcaleb, did you get into a fight?â
he didnât answer. he just stood there staring at you. his tired eyes dragged slowly across your face, memorizing something before losing it completely. the muscles in his jaw flexed beneath the fading blood near his lip.Â
âcaleb?âÂ
his throat bobbed once. before suddenly, his gaze dropped downward and the faintest broken sound escaped him.
almost a whine.
completely unlike the confident golden boy everyone else knew.
you blinked in surprise, waiting for him to finally explain himself. but instead, caleb lifted his eyes back toward you and asked quietly, âwhen are you gonna understand?â
you stilled. ââŚwhat?â
âwhen are you gonna understand,â he repeated, âthat i like you so fucking much it actually hurts?â
the room went completely silent behind you.
caleb laughed softly then, but the sound carried no humor at all. only exhaustion. only frustration stretched too thin after holding itself together for too long. âi beat him up. that asshole who framed you.â his jaw tightened sharply as he spoke. âhe made you cry, humiliated you in front of everyone when you didnât do anything wrong.â
you could only stare at him, because you couldn't bring yourself to believe it. caleb was capable of something like this? caleb was capable of harming someone just for your sake?Â
âand i couldnât stand it,â he admitted, biting his lip. âi couldnât stand hearing people talk about you like that.â you watch caleb look away briefly, running a bruised hand through his messy hair before sarcastically smiling again. âi was looking for you afterward, wanted to make sure you were okay.â his eyes flickered toward zayne, and the softness disappeared instantly.Â
âand then i walk in here and see this.â
the jealousy in his voice sliced through the room, but it was the kind that came from heartbreak instead of anger.Â
calebâs gaze returns to you, it looked even worse. you could practically see the years of suppression slowly rotting underneath all his teasing smiles and playful touches, how exhausted he mustâve been carrying all of this alone.
his lips parted slightly before he spoke again, quieter this time. âi donât know what else iâm supposed to do anymore.â
he stepped closer. just one step.
âi always look for you everywhere. and i get jealous over stupid things. and i literally beat somebody up because they made you cry.â his eyes searched yours desperately. âand you're still looking at me like you donât get it?â
his gaze flickered briefly toward your mouth before lifting back to your eyes again.
âdo i seriously have to kiss you before you understand how much i love you?â
no. no, you already understood. that was the worst part.
you stood between them, too warm beneath the dim yellow lights of zayneâs living room, too aware of every breath being taken around you. calebâs confession still echoed inside your head in painful waves, mixing together with the memory of zayneâs arms around your waist just moments ago.
everything made sense. every argument that carried hidden bitterness underneath it. every strange moment where the air between the three of you became too intimate for childhood friendship alone.
they loved you. both of them.
and you no longer can run away from it.
your lips pressed together, gaze dropped toward the floor. you couldnât look directly at caleb right now. not when his eyes were fixed on you like thatâdark and exhausted in a way that felt unbearable to witness.
you couldnât turn around either. because behind you stood zayne, silent.
you didnât know what expression he wore now. you didnât know if he looked angry or hurt or completely unreadable the way he usually did when emotions threatened to spill too close to the surface.
you were too afraid to find out, too afraid to face either of them fully. all you knew was this awful aching certainty sitting inside your chest: you couldnât choose. you didnât want to.
âi...â you started weakly, but the words dissolved before forming properly.
everything felt... tangled. so you stepped backward instinctively, because you always believed that distance might somehow save you from the intensity pressing in from both sides.
but caleb moved first.
the front door clicked shut behind him with a sound that made your pulse jump. then suddenly he was close again, towering over you with tired eyes and a face that looked heartbreakingly ruined from wanting too much.
his hands came up, one against your cheek, the other cradling your jaw. warm palms against burning skin.
from this proximity, you could see the tiny split near his lower lip more clearly now. dried blood swelling near his cheekbone. he looked really messy in a way caleb never usually allowed himself to be.
he whispers into your lips, âiâm sorry.â and before you could even process the apologyâ
he kissed you.
it was almost devastating how unsteady it felt.
caleb crashed into your mouth like a man depraved of everything he was supposed to have.
âmmph!â your eyes widened instantly as his lips pressed against yours with all the desperation heâd been holding back for years, roughened breaths shaking faintly between every second of contact. trembling, your fingers clutched at the front of his dirt-stained uniform, wrinkling the fabric tighter beneath your hands as your body struggled to catch up with what was happening.
he kissed you with his eyes shut tightly, brows pulled together like he physically could not bear the thought of you pulling away from him now. every ounce of restraint he usually carried so casually had disappeared, leaving behind something painfully naked underneath.
pure, humiliating desire.
you feel his hand tremble against your face as he deepened the kiss for one brief reckless second, breathing you in desperately like he was trying to memorize the feeling before it disappeared from him forever. and godâyou could feel every ugly, yearning emotion tangled inside him.
somewhere behind you, the room remained silent. way too silent.
the realization sent another rush of heat through your body so intense it almost hurt.
caleb mustâve thought about that too. because his grip tightened slightly against your jaw, and a broken sound escaped him into the kiss itselfâhalf sigh, half acheâas though even this moment didnât feel enough.Â
âungh...â he knew this was selfish, but he couldnât stop anyway. or maybe he just simply refused to.
you couldnât tell anymore.
all you knew was that your thoughts were dissolving frighteningly fast beneath the weight of his mouth against yours. his kiss carried none of the polished confidence people usually associated with him. it was too desperate for that.Â
and now that it was out, he was drowning in it.âmmgh- shit..â caleb whined against your lips, making your knees weaken embarrassingly beneath him.
the warmth of his body crowded closer while his hand stayed firm against your jaw, thumb brushing shakily along your cheek. your fingers remained tangled tightly in the front of his ruined uniform, wrinkling the already dirt-stained fabric further.
without realizing it, you kept stepping backward underneath the pressure of him. but caleb followed instantly every single time, taller and broader in a way that slowly consumed your sense of balance altogether. the room blurred behind your closed eyelids while his mouth moved against yours with aching urgency, it almost felt like there was nothing else left except him.
...almost.
you thought, as your back hit something solid, warm.
your breath caught sharply into the kiss itself.
caleb paused for the briefest second, enough for confusion to flicker weakly through your haze, but before you could fully pull away or understand what was happening, another hand rose slowly against the side of your neck from behind you.
long fingers, cooler skin.
they brushed your hair carefully over one shoulder, gathering the loose strands away from your nape with a touch so calm it contrasted painfully against calebâs desperate grip on your face.
your pulse stumbled violently, because you knew those hands.Â
your eyes remained shut instinctively, overwhelmed too quickly by warmth and the terrifying awareness of both of them surrounding you now.Â
you shouldâve stepped away. you shouldâve stopped this immediately. but instead, your body betrayed you by leaning further back into the warmth behind you.
a soft inhale brushed the back of your neck. then, another pair of lips touched your skin.
âhaa-â
zayne moved differently. his mouth barely grazed the sensitive curve of your nape at first, almost like he was testing your reaction before letting the warmth of his lips linger there properly. the restraint in it somehow made it worse.Â
a helpless sound escaped youââhmngh-ââa small whimper swallowed directly into calebâs mouth.
calebâs reaction to it was immediate, his entire body tensed against yours before a shaky breath left him, almost pained, almost wrecked by the sound you made for them. behind you, zayne stayed terrifyingly calmâthe way his teeth sunk into the supple flesh of the slope of your neck had you unconsciously pressing yourself against him.Â
zayne noticed. and it made him halt in his tracks. for a moment, his hands stilled on you and pulled away slightly, eyeing you from behind. "y/n,"
the mention of your name also had you woken up from the daze you were starting to get lost into, while caleb's eyes flickered towards his bestfriend who's behind you, slowly pulling away.Â
"y/n,"
the air between the three of you was strangely suffocating, charged with something that made the fine hairs on your arms stand on end. you felt a sudden, pulsing warmth beginning to bloom deep in your core, a heavy, liquid sensation that seemed to radiate outward from... there.Â
what was happening to you?Â
zayne's eyes narrowed, his gaze dropping from your face to the subtle, frantic rise and fall of your chest. he could see the way your pupils had dilated, swallowing the dark iris until your eyes looked like bottomless pools of desire.Â
âyou're flushed.â zayne murmured, he didn't pull his hand away from your arm; instead, his thumb began to trace slow, deliberate circles against your pulse point. caleb noticed it too, his gaze following zayne's. the raw, jagged pain in his expression smoothed out into something much more... predatory.Â
âyou're... burning up,â he didn't care about the fight or the blood on his lip anymore; all he could see was the way your lips were slightly parted, glistening and inviting.
the tension snapped like a taut wire. zayneâs fingers tightened around your shoulder, not enough to hurt, but enough to anchor you as he leaned in, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. "it's not just the fever of the moment, is it?" he whispered, and the implication hung in the air, as he let his gaze wander down the curve of your neck.Â
you can't help it. the heat was becoming too much to bear. âno,â you gasped, the word feeling small and fragile against the overwhelming intensity of their gazes.Â
you forced yourself to step back, stumbling away from the magnetic pull of their bodies. you could feel your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. âthis is... it's wrong. we can't. you're best friends, and this... this isn't right,â your voice trembled with a desperate attempt at denial.Â
you tried to wrap your arms around yourself, to shield the growing warmth in your core, but the logic felt flimsy in comparison to what was actually going on.Â
zayne and caleb both froze, the sudden distance between you feeling like a physical wound. they watched you with a look of profound, aching reverence. to them, you weren't just a girl; you were something sacred, a masterpiece of soft curves and delicate skin that they had spent years worshiping from afar.Â
the thought of bruising your skin or marring your perfection with their need sent a shiver of hesitation through them. they wanted to devour you, to just lose themselves in the heat of your body, but also, they were terrified that their very touch might ruin the precious thing they loved so much.
âis it wrong?â caleb whispered, his voice a ragged, broken thing. he took a tentative step toward you, his hands hovering in the air as if he were afraid to reach out and break a spell. âbecause it feels like the only thing that's ever been right.âÂ
he reached out, not to grab you, but to let the very tips of his fingers graze the underside of your jaw, a touch so light it was almost a ghost of a sensation. it made your breath hitch in a way that betrayed your protest.
zayne, seeing caleb's approach, felt a surge of competitive desperation. he didn't want to be the one who stayed in the shadows. so he moved to your side, yet there was still a visible tremor in his hands. he reached for your waist, his palms barely skimming the fabric of your clothes, tracing the curve of your hip with a reverence that felt like a prayer.Â
âif it's wrong, then let us be wrong together,â he murmured, his voice a low, seductive velvet. he leaned in, his lips not quite touching your skin, but the warmth of his breath against your neck was enough to make your toes curl in your shoes.Â
ugh, he's doing it again...
this is ridiculous. you tried to hold onto your denial, to tell them to stop and tell them that this was madness, but your body was a traitor.Â
every time caleb's lips teased your earlobe, a fresh wave of liquid heat flooded your thighs. and every time zayne's fingers traced the dip of your waist, an involuntary moan escaped your lips. you were being pulled apart by two different kinds of worship, one frantic and one deliberate, and the more you tried to resist, the more your body craved the very thing you claimed was wrong.
they were both so careful, so agonizingly hesitant, as if they were handling the finest porcelain. they watched your reactions with wide, hungry eyes, terrified of overstepping but unable to pull awayâlike caught in a loop of wanting to ruin you and wanting to preserve you.
but as you felt the weight of their worship, something shifted inside you. the vulnerability that had been making you tremble somewhat changed into a sharp, jagged spark of defiance.Â
maybe it's the insistent teasing, maybe it's something else entirely. you didn't know.Â
âstop,â you raise your hands.Â
you just found yourself stopping and instead forcing them to look you in the eye. âif... if you insist on going this far,â you tried, even though you knew deep down how much they affected you. âcan you even handle what comes with it?â the question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. you saw the flicker of confusion in calebâs eyes, the way his brow furrowed as he tried to parse your meaning.Â
you didn't stop there. you leaned in slightly, your gaze sweeping over both of them, challenging their masculinity. âi'm not just talking about the consequences of what we do to each other,â you punctuated. âi'm talking about you. if i stop being the girl you're so afraid to break... if i actually take what i want from you... could you even handle it? could you handle me?â
the effect was instantaneous.Â
the air seemed to vanish from the room as both boys froze, their hands hovering inches from your skin like statues.Â
was it just that easy?Â
they had been treating you like a fragile thing, but you had just reminded them that you were also a woman with a hunger that could rival their own.Â
zayne felt a tremor of genuine uncertainty ripple through his chest, his dark eyes squinting as he realized... you weren't just a recipient of their lust. because you were also capable of undoing them.
a nervous, triumphant smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as you forced it. you could see the doubt creeping into their expressions, the way their bravado was being replaced by a sudden, frantic rethinking of the entire situation.Â
âwell?â you prompted, your voice a teasing lilt that mocked their hesitation. âdon't just stand there looking like you've seen a ghost. you were so sure of yourselves a moment ago. you were so hungry.â you reached out, your fingers grazing the fabric of caleb's shirt, then zayne's wrist, a mocking reminder of the contact they had been so terrified to initiate.Â
âtouch me, then. if you're as brave as you're acting, prove it.â
the silence that followed was deafening.Â
caleb's frown remained deeply on his face, his eyes slowly moving down the swell of your breasts, gulping, but he couldn't even bring himself to extend his hands.Â
the boys, who had been so bold in their intentions, were now suddenly behaving like hesitating little boys. caleb snapped his eyes away from your chest, his face flushing a deep, embarrassed crimsonâwhile zayneâs gaze drifted away for a split second, his usual stoicism crumbling into a visible uncertainty.Â
all you could do was watch them, because the tension was no longer just about lust; it was about the exhilarating unknown of what would happen if you truly let go.Â
you had thrown down the gauntlet, and now, the ball was in their court.
it was already evident though. you already knew the answer.
they were sinful enough to want you, but not enough to touch where sin waited most.Â
ânever mind,â you whispered into the thickening silence. you made a reluctant, jerky movement, stepping back once more. before they could find their voices or their courage, you turned on your heel, your heart thundering a frantic rhythm against your ribs, and walked away.Â
you practically ran, your lungs burning as you navigated the familiar streets between zayne's house and your own. the cool night air hit your flushed skin, but it did nothing to dampen the fire still smoldering in your core.Â
you didn't stop until you had burst through your own front door, fumbling with the lock before slamming it shut behind you. leaning your back against the wood, you finally released the breath you realized you had been holding since the moment the tension had snapped. the house was silent, your parents are probably upstairs.Â
your heart was still a wild thing, drumming a frantic, uneven beat in your ears.Â
fuck.
you breathed, sliding down the door until you were curled on the floor. what would have happened if you hadn't walked away? if you had stayed, if you had let them touch you, there would have been no turning back. the boundary between friendship and something sinful would have been erased in a single, feverish moment.
a heavy sensation settled in your stomach, a feeling that was difficult to name.Â
you felt... dirty.Â
but as you sat there in the dim light of your hallway, you realized the sensation had nothing to do with the way they had looked at you or the way their hands had hovered near your skin. it wasn't because of them; it was because of yourself.Â
because you hadn't just been willing to let them touch you; you had been craving it.
the thought of indulging in both of them made a hot blush creep up your neck. the idea of being caught between them felt scandalous. you knew, with a terrifying certainty, that you would have enjoyed it. you would have relished the way they looked at you, the way they fought for your attention, and the way they would have worshipped your body.
âjesus christ,â you groaned, burying your face in your hands, your fingers digging into your scalp.Â
you hated it.Â
you hated how easily your resolve had crumbled, how quickly your mind had drifted toward the delicious, dark possibilities of what could have been. you were supposed to be the one in control, the one who kept the boundaries intact, yet here you were, trembling in the dark because you had realized how much you wanted to be ruined by them.
unbeknownst to you, that very same night, you had deeply embedded yourself within caleb and zayne's heads. and their wounds had only gotten deeper.Â
the silence of calebâs bedroom was a lie.Â
the air was thick with the sound of his own ragged, desperate breathing. he had practically stumbled through his front door, his mind a chaotic storm of your scent and the memory of your beautiful eyes.Â
he felt like he was drowning, the pressure in his chest so immense that he felt he might actually suffocate if he didn't find some way to release the tension coiling in his gut. he didn't even bother turning on the lights, moving through the shadows of his room like a man possessed until his hand found the hidden stash in his bedside drawer.
his fingers curled around the soft fabric of your underwear, the one that he had stolen and kept in his pocket when you were doing laundry together.Â
a silent, shameful theft that had become his most private ritual.Â
he pulled them out, the fabric feeling like a holy relic in his trembling hands. he brought them to his face, burying his nose in the material and inhaling deeply. he breaths you in, and a pained sound escaped his throat, a sob that was half moan. it felt like he was trying to pull your very soul into his lungs just to stop the ache.
âi should've...â slowly, he got onto his sheets, the friction of the fabric against his skin feeling like nothing compared to the phantom sensation of your body.Â
and he pressed the underwear against himself, pressing the stolen fabric against his hardening length. his movements were frantic and uncoordinated, driven by a desperation that bordered on madness. he was moaning, a series of broken, whimpering sounds that filled the dark room, each one a testament to the agony of his restraint.Â
"fuck... y/n..." he choked out, the name a prayer and a curse all at once. he was haunted by the memory of how close he had been to you, how he had felt the heat radiating from your skin, and the crushing weight of his own cowardice.Â
he should have reached out. his fingers tightened their grip around his dick, forcing the pre-cum out of the slit.Â
he should have grabbed your waist and pulled you into him before you could even think of running. he should have been the man you challenged, not the boy who stood paralyzed by the fear of ruining you. tears began to sting his eyes, blurring his vision as he worked himself toward a release that felt more like a surrender than a pleasure.Â
he felt pathetic, whining into the empty air of his bedroom, jerking himself off until his muscles ached. to keep from crying out too loudly, to keep from biting his lip until it bled like he had earlier, he reached for the silver dog tag hanging around his neck. he bit down on the metal, the cold, hard surface grounding him even as his mind drifted back to the curve of your hips and the defiant tilt of your chin.
every stroke was a reminder of what he had lost in that moment you turned away. the "should have's" looped in his mind like a mantra, and it only drove him to a fever pitch of frustration.Â
he wanted to be the one to consume you, to prove he could handle the fire you had promised, but instead, he was left alone in the dark, clinging to a piece of your clothing and the ghost of your scent.
calebâs hand was a blur of motion, his grip tight and demanding as he worked himself up. he pressed your underwear harder against the head of his cock, the soft lace and cotton teasing his most sensitive nerves.
he was lost in a fever dream of you, his mind conjuring the sensation of your soft thighs wrapping around his waist and the way your breath would feel hot against his neck. every slide of his palm, every desperate tug, was a frantic attempt to imagine you, to imagine what would have happened if he hadn't been a coward earlier.
âplease... y/n... please,â he whimpered, the words dissolving into a guttural, choked sound as the first wave of climax began to crash over him.Â
his body stiffened, his back arching off the sheets as he felt the sudden, violent surge of release. he came with a force that left him gasping, a heavy, pulsing eruption that felt like his very soul was being poured out of him. but instead of collapsing into the exhausted peace of a finished act, caleb found himself unable to stop. his hand, still slick and trembling, didn't fall away. he couldn't let it.Â
oh what would have happened if he touched your breasts? how would it feel against his hands?Â
âhmnnhg....â he began to stroke himself again. his dick was hypersensitive, but he didn't care about the slight ache or the overwhelming sensation. he was chasing the high, chasing the memory of your scent.
he kept going, his movements becoming slower, and even more desperate as he tried to force his body to find that peak again, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought to drown out the reality of his loneliness.
he bit down on his dog tag again, the metal clinking against his teeth as he let out a long, low whine.Â
would you unbutton yourself for him? so he could have better access inside? âahh... would you have....?â
no matter how many times he came, it would never be enough to fill the void you had left behind. he would keep stroking, he would keep yearning, until his muscles gave out or the sun rose to expose his shame.
but caleb wasn't the only one doing this. there was also somebody else.Â
zayne was a silent, simmering furnace of controlled agony. he didn't retreat to the comfort of his bed. instead, he found himself in the cold sanctuary of his bathroom, the moonlight filtering through the small window to cast long shadows across the tile.Â
he stood with his back pressed hard against the cool wall, his head tilted back so that his throat was exposed, a vulnerable line of pale skin in the dim light. his eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth slightly ajar as he fought to regulate the heavy, uneven rhythm of his breathing.
his hand was wrapped tightly around his thick cock, his movements precise and rhythmic, yet fueled by a simmering resentment. he wasn't just seeking release, he was punishing himself. every slide of his palm was a silent accusation, a tell of the regret that was eating him alive.Â
he should have been the one to bridge the gap. he should have ignored the logic and the caution that usually defined him, and instead, he should have reached out and claimed you. he should have pressed you against the wall and shut you up with a kiss so deep and so demanding that the very thought of running would have vanished from your mind.
the thought of your lips the way they had been parted, glistening and inviting, sent a jolt of desire through him. but as the thought deepened, it was tainted by a bitter, poisonous jealousy.Â
you hadn't even kissed him. you let caleb kiss you. you let him taste you. the memory of calebâs lips grazing your skin, of the way caleb had been the one to actually make contact, made zayneâs jaw tighten until it ached.Â
it made zayneâs strokes grow faster, more aggressive. the jealousy drove him to push himself harder than he ever had before, like he was stroking to erase the image of caleb's lips on you, to replace it with the sensation of his own.
his breathing became a series of manly gasps that echoed off the tiled walls. he imagined his hands gripping your hips with a firm, unyielding strength, pulling you flush against him until there was no space left for doubt or denial. he imagined the taste of you, the way you would moan his name if he finally broke his restraint and took what he so desperately craved.
the friction was becoming almost painful, a searing heat that centered in his groin and radiated outward, but he welcomed the sting. it was a distraction from the mental image of you running away, leaving him standing there like a fool, a spectator to his own desire. he needed to feel you.Â
as he neared the edge, his movements became frantic, his hand a blur of desperate motion. he let out a low, guttural groan, his head thumping back against the wall as the first wave of climax hit him.Â
and then he stood there, slumped against the wall, chest heaving, with the only thought of what could have been if he was brave enough to get rid of that tank top off of you.Â
for the rest of the night, they didn't stop thinking about you.Â
but the universe has a cruel way of turning a moment of into a fading echo, and for the three of you, that moment was the beginning of the end.Â
as the sun rose the next morning, neither caleb nor zayne knew that the feverish connection they had shared in the dark would be the last time your souls truly touched. the electricity that had crackled between you in that room didn't ignite a fire that burned forever. instead, it acted like a flash of lightning blinding, terrifying, and then gone, leaving only a lingering darkness in its wake.
the distance didn't happen all at once, though. it was a slow, agonizing erosion. myou were the one who initiated the retreat, driven by a cocktail of shame, confusion, and a desperate need to reclaim the pieces of yourself you felt you had lost that night. you began to build walls, brick by heavy brick.Â
you stopped answering the late night texts, and you became a ghost at the friday gatherings where they were present, and eventually, you simply stopped showing up altogether.Â
for caleb and zayne, the silence was a deafening weight. they both waited, hovering in the periphery of your life, hoping for a sign, a glance, a single word that would bridge the chasm you had created. they both felt the same hollow ache in their chests, but neither of them had the courage to chase a girl who was so clearly running away.Â
they could only watch you vanish from a distance, both of them wondering if they had been too slow, too scared, or too much of the âlittle boysâ you had mocked.
the inevitable arrived with graduation. the day should have been a celebration of beginnings, but for the three of you, it was a silent funeral for what might have been. as you walked across the stage, your eyes scanned the crowd, perhaps searching for a familiar face, but you found only strangers. there were no congratulatory texts, no flowers delivered to your door, no lingering glances exchanged in the hallway.Â
the three of you, who had once been so intimately entwined by desire and tension, had become nothing more than names in a yearbook, memories tucked away in the dusty corners of your minds.
you vanished into your own pathway, throwing yourself into studies, work, and new cities, trying to drown out the memory of the two boys who had once looked at you like you were a god. you told yourself you had forgotten. you told yourself that the heat, the sweat, and the desperate, lonely nights they spent thinking of you were just a fever dream of youth.
it was all just a part of youth.Â
or was it?Â

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YOU
pairing. caleb x afab!reader
synopsis. maybe the problem isn't the stalker, maybe it's the one being stalked.
tags. nsfw, modern college au, strong yandere themes, dead dove, dubcon, obsession, stalking, killing, violence, manipulation, slowburn, plot-based, sexual tension, a bit of one-sided pining, somnophilia, depraved!caleb, yearning!caleb, detached!reader, m!masturbating, heavy make outs, fingering, p in v, reverse cowgirl, backshots, rough sex, strictly 18+
a/n. this is incredibly long and perhaps a lot to take in, i got carried away and did too much effort on this ^^; i suggest reading this when you're fully free ;D ps. image isn't mine. ctto.
wc. 18k (help me)
you never knew how it felt to be stalked by a guy long enough for your entire connections to be known, never knew how it felt to be obsessed over quite enough for the people close to you to disappear.
most of all, you never knew, would it had come from the guy most people refer to as a golden boy.
caleb knows you a bit too well. he knows the time you tend to feel most restless, the days you skip meals without noticing, the precise expression you make when something irritates youânot enough to complain, just enough to remember.
he knows because heâs watched, because heâs listened, because heâs arranged himself around the negative space of your life until the outline became clear.
you never call it attraction.
you just tell yourself, caleb would know, when a choice presents itself.
and every time you do, he gets close enough to see how little room you leave for anyone else.
youâre seated at the long oak table by the east windows at the school's library, the one that catches light only in the afternoon. and caleb knows this because he has noticed the pattern. he adjusts his steps to arrive when youâre already settled, coat folded on the chair beside you, book open but untouched for the last several minutes.
you donât look up when he stops at the edge of the table.
âhey,â
you glance up then, and your eyes pass over him with the same neutral recognition you give the shelves, the lamps, the exit signs.
âhi,â you say.
caleb smiles anyway, he always does as a golden boy. itâs a good tool. it opens space.
âstudying?â he asks, already knowing the answer. the textbookâs spine is creased in the same place it always is. page 214. you never dog-ear; you use a receipt as a bookmark. today itâs from a cafĂŠ two blocks away. he clocks the date without thinking.
âtrying, itâs quieter here.â
it is. the library smells faintly of dust and pages. he likes places that cooperate. âmind if i sit?â he asks, even as his hand is already on the chair across from you.
you shrug. âgo ahead.â
permission granted without weight. it settles in his chest, warm and sure. he sits, careful not to scrape the floor. he places his bag down precisely, knees aligned with the table leg.
you return to your book, as your attention moves away from him so completely itâs almost surgical. caleb watches the way your fingers rest against the margin.
âi ran into your friend earlier,â he says casually. âhe asked about you.â
your page turns. âyea?â
âyeah, said he hadnât heard from you in a while.â
you hum, noncommittal. âiâve been busy.â
caleb nods like this explains everything. it does, in its way. busy is useful. busy thins things out. busy creates gaps. âif you need help with anything, you know. notes, rides, food runs.â
you finally look at him again. âi know.â
thatâs all. no gratitude, no warmth. the words land and stop. caleb feels a small, private satisfaction anyway. knowing is enough. awareness precedes dependence.
as you read, his attention driftsânot away from you, never that, but inward, where his thoughts arrange themselves neatly. he imagines this table without the extra chair. imagines you alone, every day, because thereâs no one else left to ask. imagines your routines tightening until they circle him naturally, like a well-designed system.
he wonders, idly, how long it would take before you stopped noticing his presence entirely, before he became part of the architecture.
âwhat are you working on?â
you tilt the book so he can see the title. âresearch methods.â
âfun,â he says, dry. âwant help?â
ânope.â
calebâs smile doesnât flicker. he likes your noâs. they make everything else feel earned. âokay, iâll just⌠be here.â he doesnât need to say why, he's already bringing out a book he will pretend to work on infront of you.
your sleeve slips down as you adjust your posture. he notices the line of skin at your wrist, the faint indentation where your watch usually sits. today itâs missing. he doesnât linger on it the way a lover would. he catalogs it, the way one notes a missing screw in a machine that otherwise runs perfectly.
you shift again, crossing your legs.
he thinks about your home, sparsely furnished and everything placed for efficiency. heâs been there enough times to know where the spare key is hidden, though heâs never used it. no need. patience sharpens the edges of things.
âyou eating later?â he pretends to bury his eyes onto the book.
âprobably, havenât decided.â
âi can bring something by,â he offers. âsave you the trouble.â
you consider this for half a second. not himâjust the logistics. âsure, thatâd help.â
help. the word warms him more than affection ever could.
âtext me what you want,â he smiles.
you nod, already gone again, mind back in the book. caleb watches your breathing slow into a steady rhythm. he imagines it continuing like this, uninterrupted, because he removes anything that might disturb it; noise and mess and people who take up space they donât deserve.
someone just laughs too loudly at a table across the room and calebâs jaw already tightens almost imperceptibly. he releases it just as quickly though, because not now. this place is orderly. it will correct itself.
he stands after a while, smooth and unhurried. âiâll let you work,â
âokay,â you reply, without looking up.
he pauses, just long enough to be seen if you were paying attention. you arenât. thatâs fine. he leaves with a smile anyway.
~
you text him at 6:17 p.m.
[name]:
burgerâs fine the one from elm street ! get one for yourself too, iâll pay you when you get here. :)
caleb reads it once, then again.
elm street is six blocks out of the way, but the rain has already started, loud and impatient against the pavement, the kind that turns the city into a smear of motion and noise. he checks the forecast anyway, out of habit, as if it might surprise him.
as expected, heavy rain, gusts, and limited visibility.
âokay,â he types back. âbe there soon.â
he doesnât hesitate. hesitation would imply negotiation, and there isnât one. you asked. thatâs the beginning and the end of it.
he leaves the school building with his jacket buttoned wrong, and he notices only after heâs already halfway down the steps. the umbrella he grabs from his bagpack is the flimsy one, the one that bends inward when the wind gets merciless. it doesnât matter.
the city looks different when itâs wet. surfaces shine, edges blur. caleb likes it. it simplifies people.
as he walks, he thinks about the way you phrased it. "get one for yourself too." not an invitation, but an instruction that saves you the trouble of refusing later. considerate in the way youâre always considerate, without sentiment.
he imagines arriving back at the library, rain-soaked, bag held carefully away from his body so the paperwrapper wonât soften. imagines you looking up from your books with that neutral expression, eyes flicking briefly to the bag before moving back to his face. youâll say âthanks!â you always do and say it like that.
the rain thickens, as his shoes darken at the seams. water slips down the back of his collar, cold and precise. he adjusts his grip on the umbrella, angling it forward, though the wind keeps catching it, tugging like a spoiled child.
halfway across the main road, a bus roars past too close. caleb registers it in parts: the sound, the pressure, the sudden arc of brown water lifting off the curb.
suddenly, mud splashes up his side, violent and abrupt, streaking across the white of his uniform. it blooms like a bruise.
he looks down at it. "ah..."
thereâs a momentâsmall, containedâwhere he considers turning back to change and arrive clean. the thought dissolves almost immediately though.
you didnât ask for clean.
so he continues walking.
at the burger place, the line is too long. people drip onto the tile floor, smelling like wet fabric and impatience. caleb stands still, posture perfect despite the water gathering at the hem of his sleeves and dripping down his hair locks. he doesnât shake it off.
when itâs his turn, he orders without looking at the menu. âi'll have two double cheese burgers please,â he smiles, remniscient of a wet golden retriever. âno onions on one.â
the cashier nods, bored. caleb pays without thinking, youâll reimburse him later. or you wonât. either way, the exchange has already served its purpose.
he waits, hands folded loosely in front of him. his reflection in the stainless steel is distortedâmud-streaked, hair darkened by rain, lilac eyes steady. he looks like someone who has been through something minor and inconvenient. he likes that too.
the bag is warm when he takes it. he adjusts his hold, cradling it instinctively to keep the heat in. the rain greets him again with renewed enthusiasm. but the umbrella finally gives a sharp, pathetic bend, one of its ribs snapping inward.
caleb doesnât curse, he simply angles it differently and keeps going.
he imagines you eating, he imagines watching from across the table, tail wagging, saying nothing.
by the time he reaches the school gates, the rain has soaked through everything. his uniform clings uncomfortably and mud has dried in uneven streaks. he looks down at the bag once more, checks for leaks. itâs intact.
heâs adjusting his grip on the paper bagâstill warmâwhen he sees you.
youâre coming down the steps, backpack slung over one shoulder, posture loose in that way that means youâre done for the day. beside you is a man caleb recognizes only vaguely: a face heâs seen in passing, a name heâs heard once or twice and didnât bother to keep. not important enough to catalog. not until now.
who is he?
the man laughs at something you say. caleb doesnât hear it, but he can see it in the shape of your mouth, the small tilt of your head. then, with an almost rehearsed politeness, the man lifts his umbrella and angles it over you.
you hesitate just for a beat. caleb feels it like a skipped stair as his pace slows.
then you step closer and accept. âthanks,â
you start walking, not toward him, but away.
caleb stops.
itâs not dramatic, his feet simply donât take the next step. he watches the two of you merge into the flow of pedestrians, his eyes following the pattern of your strides, and even the umbrella tilting slightly to keep rain off your shoulder.
and then, his phone vibrates.
he already knows what it will say.
[name]:
sorry, caleb. iâm heading home with a friend you can cancel the burger.
he reads it once, then again.
the bag is still warm in his hand, grease has begun to soften the paper at the corners. he thinks, briefly and absurdly, that he should eat it while itâs still hot. food shouldnât be wasted.
his eyes lift again, finding you easily. the umbrella dips as you step off the curb, the man adjusting it clumsily. caleb notes the poor angle, the way rain still hits your sleeve. amateur.
his thumbs move.
[caleb] okay :)
the smiley face feels right...
he doesnât feel angry. anger would require surprise, and this doesnât have that quality. this is just information. a variable briefly introduced, nothing more.
but caleb tries his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest.
he tucks his phone away and starts walking again, pace unhurried. he doesnât follow too closely. that would be rude. he stays far enough back that he could be anyoneâanother student, another figure moving through rain with somewhere to be.
he watches the way you lean slightly inward under the umbrella. the way the man angles himself protectively without quite knowing how. caleb almost smiles. itâs clumsy.
he thinks, not unkindly, that youâll be damp by the time you get home. the manâs umbrella is too small for two. youâll probably forget to hang your jacket to dry.
he crosses the street when you do, but not at the same light. he stays on the opposite sidewalk, reflection fractured in shop windows.
for a fleeting moment, something almost playful stirs in him. a faint amusement at how neat it all is, how unaware you are of the shape forming around you.
you think the burger is canceled.
you think the evening has simply rearranged itself.
caleb adjusts his pace, keeping you in sight as the street bends.
he has time.
the man beside you laughs again. that stupid, easy smile. almost cute.
it makes calebâs jaw tighten just enough to feel pleasure. almost, he thinks, but not quite. caleb lets the rain slick street guide his steps, following quietly, calculating.
and by the time the two of you reach your porch, by the time you finally went inside to leave your little friend alone, when he turns to an alleyway that cuts through to a side street, caleb is ready. the timing is preciseâhe lunges the instant the man is slightly ahead, stepping into the narrow corridor as if it belongs only to him.
the man doesnât understand immediately, feeling calebâs strong hands find his throat without warning. strength measured and restraint practiced. the alley swallows his sounds, struggling against the ground, coughing and gasping.
âwhatâwhat the hellâ?â your friend chokes out, wide-eyed.
caleb says nothing, he just watches the movement of the manâs chest, watches the panic flare. he imagines your terrified face if you were here. it steels him.
the man fights back, strong enough to shove him off for a moment. "what's wrong with youâ?" a punch lands, catching caleb's mouth. a quick, sharp pain. he tastes a bit of blood but doesnât falter.
instead, he pivots, countering immediately. the punches become a rhythm, measured but a bit out of place. he doesnât lose himself in anger; every movement designed to correct, to remove obstacles.
finally, he finds what he needs: a large, irregular stone at the edge of the alley. itâs heavy.
he swings.
the sharp edge of the form slams against the man's hard temple, and instantly he falls against the concrete once more. "fuck youâ!" and he's cut off by caleb's yet another swing.
again, "ghh!" and again, and again, blood starts to paint caleb's cheek, and again, "augh!" each time imagining only the one whose presence justifies the act. the man's face is already pooled with nothing but red, eyes unalive, unblinking.
at last, unconsciousness. caleb pants, chest and shoulders rising. he drops the stone, and the alley is now silent except for the pattering rain.
he looks down.
the man isnât moving now. caleb doesnât crouch immediately. he knows better than to rush the end of things. stillness has a texture to it; he waits until itâs certain. until the body has decided what it is.
only then does he kneel.
your name drifts through his mind, more like a constant hum. and his mouth aches faintly, he tastes it with his tongue and tastes copper. how inconvenient. caleb exhales once, steadying himself, and reaches for the manâs collar.
âsorry,â he pulls the shirt up and over the manâs head with careful efficiency. fabric tears a little at the seam. he folds the cloth and uses it to wipe his mouth, his knuckles, then the edge of his jaw. he presses firmly but not roughly. thereâs no reason to bruise himself further.
he works methodically, cleaning until his skin looks like his again. the shirt darkens with use, absorbing what shouldnât be seen. when heâs done, he wraps it around the manâs hands, then his faceâgentle, almost considerate. modesty should still be a habit...
he checks his reflection in a darkened window at the end of the alley.
a little pale, eyes bright, face bruised from your friend's punch, with a few of his damp fringes sticking to his forehead.
as for the restâheâs already thought it through. the alley opens into a service road, thereâs a construction site two blocks down, poorly fenced and poorly lit.
he grips the man beneath the arms and drags him a short distance, adjusting when necessary. itâs heavier than heâd like, but manageable.
all the while, he imagines you at home. maybe youâre already inside, shoes kicked off neatly by the door. maybe youâve forgotten about the burger entirely. you tend to do thatârelease things once theyâre no longer relevant.
he likes that about you.
caleb checks the time on his phone.
too late, by most standards. late enough that reasonable people would call it a night, late enough that the rainâstill falling, thin and persistentâhas driven everyone sensible indoors. the screen glows briefly against his damp palm before he slips the phone away.
he buys the burger again, because he accidentally stepped on the one he bought earlier while he was disposing the remnants of an added body count. the cashier doesnât recognize him; caleb looks different now, hair still wet, backpack sagging and misshapen from rain and weight. his umbrella is gone somewhere behind him in the city, forgotten and surrendered.
the paper bag is warm when he steps back outside. he walks the rest of the way without shelter, rain darkening his clothes further, water threading down his neck, soaking the strap of his backpack until it clings unpleasantly to his shoulder.
he doesnât rush.
by the time he reaches your house, he looks like heâs been through a disaster, with shoes leaving faint, damp prints on your porch.
he rings the doorbell once. he's known your address because of your recent study session with your blockmates together, or did he really?
inside, he hears movement. and then the door opens.
you freeze, just slightly.
your eyes take him in without asking permission: the state of him, the wet hair pushed back from his forehead, the way rain has sharpened the lines of his face instead of softening them. he looks worn-down and absurdly composed all at once. still⌠him.
âcaleb?â you say, incredibly confused. âwhatââ
he lifts the bag gently between you, like an offering. âyou wanted a burger,â he smiles, voice low. âfigured you might still be hungry.â
you stare at the bag, then at him. âiâdidn't you read my text?â
âmm, i know.â
that only confuses you more...
rain drips from his sleeve onto your doorstep. you donât move out of the way. youâre still processingâhis presence, the timing, the contradiction. he watches it all with quiet attentiveness, cataloging the way your expression shifts, the way your hand lifts halfway and stops.
âyouâre very soaked,â you say finally. thereâs a faint edge of distress now, practical in nature. âwhy are youââ
he doesnât answer. he steps closer instead, just enough that the warmth from inside your home brushes against his skin. his knees feel suddenly unreliable, like theyâve been holding a line longer than intended.
you reach for the bag, fingers closing around the warm paper. âcaleb, this isââ
thatâs when he lets go.
not dramatically, not all at once. his weight simply tips forward, the last of his restraint slipping quietly away. his head brushes past your cheek, and then heâs thereâcollapsed against you, shoulder to shoulder, heavier than you expected.
âcalebâ?â you gasp, startled, instinctively catching him. âwhatâs wrong?â
his head rests briefly against your shoulder, damp hair brushing your collarbone. for a secondâjust oneâhe allows himself to feel the simple fact of you holding him up.
âsorry,â he murmurs, faint and sincere. âguess i pushed it a bit, pip.â
your arms tense, unsure where to go, what to do. youâre not thinking about his feelings. youâre thinking about the mess heâs tracking in instead, the absurdity of a burger pressed between you.
âyouâre⌠youâre bleeding?â you say, noticing his mouth, the faint mark he didnât quite erase.
âitâs... nothing,â he answers, already closing his eyes, before completely fainting.
~
consciousness returns to caleb slowly, like a tide that doesnât announce itself.
first, thereâs softness beneath him. but it's not the rigid give of a couch or the utilitarian flatness of a mattress he knows.
he blinks.
the ceiling comes into focusâplain, faintly shadowed by light from the street filtering through curtains. his eyes drift, cataloging before understanding. the faint scent in the room isnât detergent or rain. itâs you. something heâs only ever encountered in fragments before.
he exhales.
his body registers itself next. same clothes are still on. damp, but not against fabricâthereâs a towel beneath him, folded carefully, placed with intention so the bed wouldnât absorb what he brought in from outside.
he turns his head.
youâre sitting beside the bed in a simple chair with a small basin on the floor near your feet. youâre wringing out a towel between your hands, itâs much tinier than the one beneath him.
for him.
you donât look at him immediately. âyouâre finally awake,â
âhello,â his voice is rougher than he expects. he swallows.
you stand and step closer, bringing the towel with you. he watches the way you fold it once before lifting it to his face. gentle pressure at the corner of his mouth, cool against the bruise.
âwhat happened?â you ask. âdid you get into a fight?â
caleb considers the truthânot the whole of it, just the outline. he measures how much weight the word can carry without collapsing the structure youâre both standing on. ââŚyeah, i did.â
itâs enough.
you frown slightly. not in disappointmentâmore like concern redirected inward, calculating what that means. whether it needs follow-up, whether it explains the state you found him in. âyou should be more careful,â you say, absently, as you dab at his lip again.
âi'm sorry,â he murmurs, because thatâs what fits there.
your focus doesnât waver as you clean the edge of the bruise, fingers brushing his skin with unthinking precision.
he feels it everywhere. his body reacts before his mind can smooth it over. heat creeps up his neck, and his ears feel too warm. heâs acutely aware of the way heâs lying in your bed, the way youâre standing so close, the way your attention is fixed on him without reverence or fear.
youâre not tending to him because you care about his inner life. youâre doing it because itâs necessary, thatâs what makes it unbearable.
his fingers twitch once against the sheets, then still. he doesnât want to move. movement might fracture this moment, and he wants it intact.
âdoes it hurt?â you finally look at him properly.
âno, not really, pips.â
you hum softly, accepting the answer without probing. you finish with the towel and step back, setting it aside. he immediately feels the distance.
his chest feels light and jittery, alive in a way thatâs almost inconvenient. heâs exactly where he wants to be.
you come back with a shirt folded over your arm.
itâs yoursâoversized even on you. you hold it out to him, eyes already drifting toward the door as if the exchange is finished the moment it begins. âthis should fit, you should change. your clothes are still damp.â
caleb pushes himself up on his elbows, the movement slower than necessary. he takes the shirt, fingers brushing the fabric, âokay,â
you turn, already halfway out of the room, when his hand closes around your wrist. the contact alone is enough to stop you, unexpected weight anchoring you in place.
you look back at him.
calebâs expression is... careful and faintly apologetic, vulnerable in a way thatâs been curated rather than stumbled into. his grip remains gentle, almost tentative, as if heâs waiting to see whether youâll pull away.
âhey,â he says softly. âcan youâwait a second?â
your brow furrows. âwhat?â
he exhales, a small sound, and shifts just enough to wince, deliberately. âi think i pulled something,â he frowns at himself. âmy torso feels⌠really sore. 's hard to move.â
you glance at him, unconvinced. your eyes flickânot to his face, but to his arms. his biceps, still defined even slack.
âyou?â you tilt your head. âwith those arms? youâll survive.â
caleb huffs a quiet laugh, corner of his mouth lifting. âbig guys feel pain too, you know.â
itâs almost playful. but you frown, unimpressed.
he looks up at you then, properly, lashes lowered, expression softening into something deliberately pitiful. a practiced helplessness, remniscient of a puppy. the kind that works on people who want to believe in it.
you donât.
your wrist remains in his hand, and you sigh.
âfine,â you reach for the edge of his jacket. âdonât be dramatic.â
calebâs breath catchesânot visibly, not enough that youâd comment on itâbut he feels it all the same. you undo the buttons with brisk efficiency, tug the fabric free from his shoulders. the jacket slips off and lands folded on the chair.
next is the polo. your fingers brush his side as you lift it over his head. the contact is brief, incidental, but it lights something sharp and electric under his skin. he keeps his eyes on the wall behind you, jaw tight, as if looking at you directly might undo him.
the undershirt comes last.
you pause, just barely. âarms up,â and he does.
fabric slides upward, peeling away inch by inch. his torso is bare now, marked only by faint tension and the shallow rise and fall of his breathing. caleb feels it thenâthe space between you narrowing, the quiet thickening. he wonders, absurdly, if you feel it too.
you do.
you just donât let it show.
your gaze flicks down despite yourself, a glance you probably didnât intend to give, catching on the lines of his abdomen, his abs, before snapping back up.
he gulps.
you clear your throat and step back, folding the damp clothes with unnecessary firmness. âthere, youâre fine. next time, donât overdo it.â
he doesnât answer. he just looks at you with a softened, open expression that hovers somewhere between need and embarrassment, like heâs been caught wanting something he knows better than to ask for.
you notice. ââŚwhat?â you say, exasperated. âdonât tell me you need help putting the shirt on too?â
his head shakes immediately. ânoâno, iâm good,â he says, voice a little too quick. âjustâuh. sore. i can manage.â
he reaches for the shirt you brought, grateful for the barrier, and pulls it over his head. it hangs loose on him, fabric skimming his torso instead of clinging. yours, unmistakably. caleb smooths it down, grounding himself in the feel of it.
you watch for a moment, âdo you need to change your bottoms too? i can look for something.â
âitâs okay, iâm fine.â
you accept that easily. too easily. you nod once, already halfway turned away when he says your name.
you stop and look back at him again, one brow lifting in mild question. patient, but faintly expectantâlike youâre bracing for something inconvenient.
caleb swallows. âhey,â he rubs the back of his neck, shoulders slightly hunched now that the moment has caught up to him. âthank you, for taking care 'f me. and for the shirt. andââ he gestures vaguely, encompassing the room. âfor everything.â
his smile comes easy, the familiar one. boyish and a little cheeky.
you look at him for a beat. then your mouth curves, just a little. âyouâre welcome, try not to get into fights every time it rains.â
caleb laughs, a soft huff of a sound. âno promises.â
something in his chest loosensâthen tightens again, because the smile you gave him wasnât deep, it was real. you didnât owe it to him, and thatâs exactly why it lands.
he feels it settle in his bones.
for one reckless, vivid second, he wants to close the distance between you. to grab you, lift you, press his mouth to yours and feel the thought stop being hypothetical.
the image flashes bright and dangerous, so immediate it nearly makes him dizzy.
he doesnât move. instead, he looks at you.
really looksâletting the feeling burn quietly behind his eyes while his face stays harmless. the boy-next-door facade fits him well. people trust it. you trust it.
the words "i like you" hover at the back of his throat. they feel insufficient, premature, and clumsy. saying them now would be like knocking on a door that isnât meant to be opened yet.
so he doesnât say anything at all.
~
two weeks pass.
caleb measures them anyway. he starts to show up more. when you leave class, when youâre deciding where to eat, when youâre reaching for something you didnât realize you needed help with until heâs already offering it.
his timing is always impeccable. too impeccable, if anyone were paying attention.
you donât comment on it.
you remain as you always are: calm, receptive in a practical way. you accept whatâs useful. you decline what isnât.
and caleb watches for a change that never comesâ there's no softening, no emotional echoes. and still, he persists.
âisn't this the place you like?â he says one afternoon, when he insisted on walking you home, gesturing toward a small cafĂŠ youâve never mentioned aloud. âthey donât over-sweeten their drinks.â
you blink at him. âyeah, howâd you know?â
he smiles, âguess.â
it keeps happening. the music he puts on when youâre in the carâsongs you never said you liked, only listened to once when you thought you were alone. the way he orders food exactly how you prefer it, down to exclusions youâve never bothered correcting in other people. the books he recommends, always landing a little too close to your taste.
âweâre quite similar,â he answers once, when you raise an eyebrow at yet another coincidence.
âi guess,â you reply, unconcerned.
and then, one friday night, the house is already overflowing when caleb arrives at the party he's been invited into.
people call his name the moment he steps inside, bunch of hands clap his shoulders. someone presses a drink into his palm without asking, and a girl he barely remembers leans in, laughing too close, eyes bright with expectation. "you've finally arrived!"
he grins, of course he does.
itâs the right response. it keeps things easy.
but he doesnât move far from the wall near the living room, where the shadows soften the edges of things. he plants himself there, with eyes drifting instinctively toward the front door every few seconds.
he heard you were coming.
one of the seniors mentioned it casuallyâoh, yeah, she said she might drop by laterâand that alone had tipped the scale. caleb hadnât planned on staying long tonight, but you give shape to things.
so he waits.
the music grows louder with the bass vibrating through the floor, through his ribs. people dance, shout, spill drinks. a girl brushes his arm and smiles like it means something. he smiles back automatically, then looks past her head.
not you.
his brow tightens, just a little.
where are you?
he checks the time on his phone with just a glance. it's still early. youâre not late yet. youâre just⌠not here.
caleb tells himself this is fine. you donât owe the night anything. you donât owe him anything.
still, he keeps watching the door.
laughter erupts somewhere behind him. one of his friends grabs his wrist, tries to pull him into the center of the room. âcome on,â they shout over the music. âdonât be boring.â
caleb laughs, lets himself be tugged a step forward, then gently disentangles.
âin a bit,â he winks. âiâm good here.â
he returns to the corner like itâs gravity, like the space is meant to hold him. from here, he can see everything. the staircase. the kitchen. the front door. he catalogs faces as they come and go, dismissing them almost instantly.
not you.
not you.
not you.
the longer it goes on, the harder it is to keep the smile in place. his frown deepens without him noticing, an expression out of sync with the rest of the room. around him, people are laughing, carefree, loud with borrowed joy.
caleb feels oddly detached from it all.
he imagines you arriving laterâquietly, maybe, scanning the room once before committing. he imagines spotting you immediately, the way he always does. imagines the subtle recalibration of the night the moment youâre present.
suddenly, someone hooks an arm around his neck and laughs straight into his ear. âdo it,â his friend yells, already half-dancing. âcome on. you always do it.â
caleb exhales through a smile that doesnât quite reach his eyes. âno,â he shakes his head. âiâm not in the mood.â
âyouâre never âin the mood,ââ another voice cuts in. âthatâs why itâs funny.â
hands push at his back, nudging him forward. the music surges, bass heavy enough to feel like a second pulse. caleb resists for a moment longer out of habit, itâs easier to give in than to explain why heâs been standing still for nearly an hour, eyes fixed on the front door like heâs waiting for something to break.
âfine,â he lifts both hands in mock surrender. âone minute, alright?â
and they cheer like theyâve won something, so he lets himself be pulled into the center of the room, where the lights are brighter and the air is warmer, thick with sweat and perfume and noise.
someone presses a bottle into his handâwater, thankfullyâand before he can think better of it, the crowd starts chanting his name.
caleb laughs, genuinely this time. it bubbles up despite himself, because distraction is useful. he moves with the rhythm easily, and he tips the bottle over his head and lets the water spill freely, soaking his hair, streaking down his face and neck, plastering his white shirt to his torso.
the reaction is immediate. the scene causes screams to cut through the music, the attention is loud and uncomplicated and flattering in the most shallow way.
caleb grins, spins once, lifts the bottle again and spills the last of it down his chest.
for a brief, reckless stretch of seconds, itâs fun. genuinely. the kind of fun that asks nothing of him beyond being seen.
and thenâ
he sees you.
youâre standing just off to the side, near the edge of the room where the lights dim and the crowd thins, watching.
your eyes meet his.
and then, everything else falls away.
the music dulls like itâs been wrapped in cloth. the shouting fades to a low, distant roar. calebâs smile falters, muscles forgetting what they were doing. his heart even stutters, then pounds so hard it makes him lightheaded.
youâre wearing a dress.
it shouldnât matter but it does. it falls against you effortlessly, like it was always meant to.
you were watching him and the realization burns. he feels suddenly exposed, absurdly aware of his wet shirt, his damp hair, the heat still radiating off him from movement and attention. the contrast between the spectacle heâs making and the quiet way youâre seeing him makes his chest tighten painfully.
his body stops moving entirely.
then you look away.
just like that.
you turn, slipping through the bodies with the same unhurried ease you always have, as if nothing significant has occurred. as if you havenât just rearranged him from the inside out. you donât even glance back.
caleb almost jolts.
his breath comes shallow, his hand tightening reflexively around the empty bottle before he drops it to the floor.
someone calls his name again, laughing, reaching for him.
but he pulls free.
âhey, whereâre you going?â
he doesnât answer.
he pushes through the crowd, eyes scanning desperately for the curve of your shoulder, the fall of your hair.
the room feels wrong nowâit's too loud, too bright, and too crowded. his heart wonât slow down. his thoughts fracture, scattering around a single, urgent point.
donât leave yet.
he moves faster, following the path you took, letting instinct override everything else.
he has to see you again.
the crowd thins as he moves toward the back of the house, the noise loosening its grip the closer he gets to the open doors. and there you are, seated near the pool, slightly apart from the chaos.
people are clustered around youâlaughing loudly, perhaps tipsy with limbs slung carelessly over deck chairs. someone jumps into the water fully clothed. another spills a drink and doesnât care. you sit at the edge of it all, cup in hand, smiling.
caleb slows.
are you drinking?
the question hits him harder than it should. he watches the way you lift the cup, the way your fingers curl around it.
your expression doesnât give anything away. you donât look loose, or dulled, or different. you look exactly like yourself.
good.
then someone notices him.
âoh shit,â a girl laughs, nudging the person beside her. âitâs caleb.â
heads turn, and the circle opens.
âget over here,â someone calls, waving him closer. âwhyâre you hiding?â
you look up then.
and your eyes meet his again, briefly. no surprise this time, just recognition. like spotting a familiar object in a room you already understand.
caleb steps forward, heart steadying as he joins the group. his shirt is still damp, clinging in places, loose in others. he feels the cool night air against his skin in a way that makes him acutely aware of his body.
one of them whistles. âdamn. the wet look works on you.â
âyeah,â another voice adds. âhe really was overdoing it back there... don't do that unless you want them to keep fawning over you.â
caleb laughs, soft and easy, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. âi'll keep that in mind.â
the conversation shifts quicklyâschool gossip, someoneâs messy breakup, a professor everyone hates, and rumors about who hooked up with who. caleb listens just enough to respond when expected, nodding, smiling, reacting at the right moments.
but his attention keeps drifting.
of course to you.
he steals glances when he thinks no oneâs watching. the way your smile flickers when someone says something amusing. the way you tilt your head as you listen, engagedâbut not invested.
you speak occasionally, concise and measured, then fall quiet again.
you never look at him.
itâs not avoidance, itâs indifference, pure and unadorned.
you donât glance his way. you donât seek him out. you donât acknowledge the way heâs angled slightly toward you, attention bent in your direction like a compass needle that refuses to behave.
he smiles at a joke someone makes, laughs when itâs appropriate, but all the while his eyes keep betraying himâslipping back to you, again and again.
someone laughs too loudly and says, âokay, but seriouslyâlet's talk about crushes.â
a chorus of groans and cheers follows. couples are named, denied, and confirmed. someone admits to texting their ex. someone else pretends not to care.
then the attention tilts toward you. âwhat about you?â a guy asks, leaning back on his hands. âyou seeing anyone?â
you shake your head lightly. âno.â
âbut do you want to? likeâare you planning to get into a relationship anytime soon?â
calebâs spine straightens without him realizing it. the noise around him fades just enough for your answer to matter too much.
you hum, thoughtful. âi donât know.. maybe.â
âthatâs not an answer,â someone teases.
âokay, thenâdo you have a crush?â
thereâs a beat.
you say, âperhaps i do.â
calebâs heart stutters. itâs not cinematic. itâs the quiet, visceral sensation of something missing a step and never quite landing where it should. his breath catches. his fingers curl slightly at his side.
you have a crush...?
his mind races ahead of itself, cataloging faces, voices, hands that might have lingered too close to you. anyone who has laughed with you too easily. anyone who has walked you home. anyone who has dared toâ
âwho?â someone asks immediately. âspill it!â
you smile to yourself first.
then you lift your gaze.
to him.
you just look at caleb, eyes unreadable, holding his for a second too long to be accidental.
his system short-circuits, eyes widening a fraction before he can stop them.
the world sharpens and blurs at the same time. he forgets how to sit like a normal person, how to smile on cue, how to breathe without effort.
you look away, and then you sway.
it happens too fast.
your shoulders dip as your hand comes up to your head like youâre trying to catch it before it falls. your cup tilts, liquid spilling a bit darkly down the front of your clothes, splashing onto the concrete.
âwhoaâheyââ
âare you okay?â
caleb registers the number only distantlyâsomeone muttering, half-impressed, half-alarmed, âsheâs had like⌠nine shots, right?ââas if itâs trivia, not explanation.
youâre drunk, more than he thought, more than you should be.
your cup slips from your fingers entirely this time, clattering uselessly as you press your palm to your temple, frowning faintly like the sensation is inconvenient rather than alarming.
âsheâs fine,â someone says, uncertain.
caleb is the one who speaks next.
âhey,â he lifts his hands in a calming gesture. âletâs not make it a whole thing. she just needs to lie down for a bit. donât kill the vibe.â it sounds generous, almost thoughtful.
no one argues right away.
caleb steps closer, and his arm slides behind your back, steadying you before anyone else can decide to do it. âiâve got her,â he adds, already committing to the role.
someone snorts. âlook at you.â
âdidnât know you were like that, caleb.â
he laughs, soft and unbothered, and bends without ceremony. one arm under your knees, the other at your back. you make a small, incoherent sound as he lifts you, surprised by the sudden absence of the ground.
youâre lighter than he imagined.
your body settles against his chest instinctively, head tipping toward his shoulder. your fingers clutch weakly at his damp shirt, more reflex than intention.
the group watches and a few eyes narrow, a few smiles turn teasing instead of amused.
âtaking her upstairs already? bold.â
caleb glances over his shoulder, grin easy and boyish. âjust gonna let her sleep it off, it's best to bring her back when sheâs not about to pass out.â
itâs said with such natural confidence that it closes the subject. the attention drifts back to the pool, the drinks, the noise. suspicion dissolves into disinterest.
good, he thinks.
he turns toward the stairs, indulging in the quiet thrill of itâthe way your weight presses into him, warm and unresisting. your head bumps lightly against his collarbone as he climbs, words slipping out of you in fragments.
âhey,â he murmurs, amused. âeasy.â
you donât answer. your eyes are half-lidded, unfocused, lashes dark against your cheeks. each step creaks underfoot. the party noise fades behind him, replaced by the dull hush of the upper floor.
âyou really overdid it, you know that?â he says lightly, as if you can still comprehend him. ânine shots... impressive, irresponsible, iâm a little proud.â
your head tilts toward his voice. he imagines you listening, he imagines you understanding. âdonât worry though,â he adds, adjusting his grip, âiâve got you.â
he carries you down the hall, savoring the simplicity of itâthe way the night has finally narrowed to just the two of you. and he doesnât hurry at all.
he fumbles for the door with his shoulder, nudging it open inch by inch while keeping his hold on you steady.
then he steps inside and eases the door shut behind him, the click sounds louder than it should.
âokay, here we are.â
the bed creaks softly as he lowers you onto it, careful, impossibly careful, like you might bruise from the wrong kind of attention. he adjusts you so your head meets the pillow, one hand lingering at your side longer than necessary before he pulls back.
for a second, youâre still.
then you stir.
your eyes flutter open, brows knitting together in faint protest. you push yourself up on your elbows, unsteady but stubborn. âiâm okay,â you mumble, words slurring into each other. âiâm fine. i canââ
ânope. lie down. youâre not fineâyouâre drunk.â caleb presses his palm to your shoulder, just enough pressure to guide you back down. "you took care of me last time, now it's my turn."
you let out a small sound of complaint as you sink back into the mattress. your head rolls to the side, hair spilling messily across the pillow.
god.
he exhales slowly through his nose, grounding himself. you look unreal like thisâsoftened by exhaustion with defenses dulled, mouth parted slightly as if mid-thought you forgot to finish. it would be so easy.
he doesnât move closer.
he wonât.
âyou really went all in tonight,â he says lightly, trying to keep the warmth in his voice from tipping into something else. âoverachiever.â
you respond with a string of quiet nonsense, syllables bumping into each other without direction. something about the music. something about being tired. something that might be his nameâor might not.
he smiles despite himself. âyeah,â he murmurs, indulging you. âi know. totally makes sense.â
he reaches out, fingers hovering for a heartbeat before he lets himself touch you at all. just your hair. just that. he tucks a loose strand back from your face, knuckles grazing your temple by accident.
you sigh, content, eyes slipping shut again.
that sound hits him low and dangerous.
âthere you go,â he whispers, almost absurdly gentle. âjust sleep, okay? iâve got you.â
you mumble again, softer this time, words dissolving before they can mean anything. he answers anyway, nodding, âmmhmm. yeah. i know.â
his hand lingers at the edge of your hair, then withdraws, curling into a fist at his side as if to physically hold himself in place. his chest feels too full, too tight, emotion pressing up against restraint until it almost trembles.
he loves you in a way that feels unmanageable.
suddenly, a knock sounded.
three quick raps against the door, cutting straight through the quiet heâd carved out for the two of you.
calebâs expression changes instantly.
the softness drains from his face, replaced by something colderâan irritation that settles deep and heavy in his chest. his jaw tightens. how dare anyone interrupt this. how dare they intrude on a moment that finally feels contained.
he exhales through his nose and stands.
âone second,â
when he opens the door, thereâs a guy standing thereâsomeone from the party, flushed and curious, holding a red cup like an excuse. âoh,â the guy says, blinking. âcaleb?â
âwhat,â caleb replies, already halfway to a glare.
the guy hesitates. glances past him, triesâand failsâto see into the room. âuh, nothing. never mind.â he shrugs, backs away with a sheepish laugh, and disappears down the hall.
caleb doesnât watch him go. he shuts the door immediately and turns the lock with a firm, deliberate twist. the sound of it clicking into place settles something in him.
only then does he turn back around.
youâre still on the bed, exactly where he left you. sometime in the last minute, you mustâve shiftedâyour dress has ridden up slightly, fabric caught higher on your thighs than before.
itâs nothing.
caleb inhales through his mouth, slow and careful, like heâs bracing against a wave.
his gaze fixes for a second too long before he forces it away, muscles in his arms flexing as he resists the instinct to reach, to adjust, to touch.
not like this.
he swallows, grounding himself with the simple facts: youâre drunk. you trusted him. youâre asleep because you feel safe, and that matters more than anything else.
still, his restraint creaks under the weight of how close he is, how easy it would be to blur lines heâs spent so long perfecting. âget it together,â his eyes return to your face instead, but the yearning doesnât leave. it never does.
sighing, he runs a hand through his messy hair, his eyes refocusing on your sleeping form once more. you really do look cute like thatâŚ
at that moment, you shift in your sleepâthe covers around you sliding down your torso as you flip to your other side. immediately, caleb's gaze focuses in on your squished-together cleavage, and his cheeks redden. how could you wear such a dress like that? shouldn't you be weary in a party?
his eyes begin to rake over your soft skinâsettling on the curve of your neck, as he imagines how pretty youâd look covered in his hickies. a dull ache settles in his gut, and while he knows he should stop, he continues to let his mind wander.
he imagines your breasts in his hands, and the quiet little sounds youâd make as he touched youâunable to help yourself. heâs sure your skin is very soft, and he wants to caress every inch of it, until he knows of each mole, scar, or otherwise.
shit, he thinks to himself, hand moving down to palm at his crotch. heâs hard thanks to his roaming imagination, but as much as he wants to touch you, that would be really wrong... right?
caleb swallows harshly, and despite himself, his hand reaches down to grab the edge of your covers. slowly, he peels them down your sleeping formânot too surprised that you donât awake. one of your friends had joked about your sleeping habitsâone being that once you got to sleep, it was very hard to wake you during the first few hours.
he hates that he gets aroused at the idea of touching you while youâre unaware. butâŚit would be so easy. so easy to just slip your tank top down your shouldersâŚlistening to you quietly moan while he sucks on your titsâhis fingers finding their way beneath your shortsâŚ
before he can think twice, he finds himself lowering onto the bed beside you. gently, he grips your shoulder and rolls you onto your back, releasing a breath he hadnât realized heâd been holding when you donât stir.
surely, he'd be going to hell for this...
reaching out, he cups your breast though your shirtâthe flesh squishing beneath his fingertips. he feels your nipple hardenâpressing up against the flat of his palmâand a quiet chuckle sneaks past his lips. even in your sleep, your body canât deny its desires, huh?
gaining a little courage, caleb slips the straps of your dress off of your shouldersâadditional inches of skin becoming exposed to his hungry eyes. and despite wanting to rip it off of youâhe works slowlyâpeeling the fabric down inch by inch until finally, your breasts are fully accessible.
abruptly, he leans overâflattening his tongue against one of your nipples and giving an experimental lick. at the sensation, your breathing hitches slightly, but you donât awaken. it makes him grin, hand reaching out to claim the other mound as his mouth continues working at the present one.
despite being asleep, itâs clear that your body has sensed a change. quiet whines begin to build in your throatâeyebrows furrowing on your forehead. however, the sounds only urge caleb to proceed.
his tongue continues swirling around your taut nippleâteeth gently nipping at the bud on occasion, and the whines that leave you in response has his cock straining against his underwear. without ceasing, his eyes drag down your torso, pausing at the crotch of your shorts. he can see your thighs clenching ever so slightly.
âpipsqueak....â he mumbles to himself, his hot breath fanning against you. âdo you want something to happen between us? that the reason why you're wearing this dress?â
caleb sucks your tit into his mouth a bit more harder, and you mewl beneath him. you stir slightly, your limbs stretching against the sheets, but caleb is too distracted to care. if you wake up, then you wake up. however, until then, he has no intention of stopping.
his chest fills with a warmth so complete it almost hurts. thisâthisâis how it was always supposed to be.
thenâ
the fantasy fractures.
caleb blinks, sharply, like waking from a dream.
heâs still there, standing near the door.
the bed is still between you, and the light hasnât changed, and the door is still locked. youâre still asleep, unaware of him in every way that matters. his hands are empty, hanging stiffly at his sides.
nothing happened.
the absence is... jarring. his mouth feels wrong, like itâs remembering pressure that was never there. his heart pounds too fast, as if itâs been fooled into thinking something has already been claimed.
he exhales, dragging a hand down his face. âjesus,â
he straightens, forcing his weight back onto his heels, reestablishing distance like itâs a rule he has to keep reminding himself of. âyouâre unbelievable,â
the thought that he could be cruelâthat cruelâsettles heavy in his chest. not because he fears crossing the line, but because he knows how badly he wants to pretend itâs already gone.
it settles low and insistent, a pressure that makes his stomach knot and his breath go shallow. caleb stays where he is for a moment too long, staring at the line of your body beneath borrowed sheets, at the quiet trust written into the way you sleep.
he turns away abruptly, like the sight of you has burned him. his steps are quiet as he crosses the room, the bathroom door is right there, just across the bed. close enough to feel like an escape route heâs been pretending not to see.
and in there he goes to work on himself.
one hand braces against the porcelain, tendons standing out stark beneath his skin. the other reaches down, his long fingers wrapping around the thick, throbbing length of his cock. he could feel every vein, every ridge, every sensitive nerve ending crying out for stimulation. and slowly, torturously, he began to stroke himself, his fingers gliding up and down his aching flesh with a sensual rhythm.
he leans forward slightly, forehead almost touching the mirror, shoulders rising and falling. "ah, fuck,"
the chain around his neck swings faintly. and without thinking, he lifts it and bites down on the dog tag, metal cold against his teeth. the familiar weight gives him something to clench around, something to muffle the sounds that threatens to break loose from his chest.
caleb's breath began to come faster, his chest heaving with the exertion of his strokes as he tried to lose himself in the fantasy, in the imagined scenario of you unwittingly inspiring his lust. his grip tightened, fist pumping faster along his thick shaft.
"fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted dazedly, his hips starting to rock into his touch. wonder what you'd do if you knew it was you he was thinking about, you he was imagining as he touched himself like this? would you be shocked? aroused? disgusted?
he swallowed back the groan that threatened to spill from his lips, biting down hard on the metal of his dog tag instead.
his strokes grew even more urgent, more desperate, his fist a blur as it flew over his cock. "nmnnghh...!" he could feel the pressure building, the need coiling tighter and tighter in his core.
"i'm.. so...close," his eyes squeezed shut, his other hand gripping hard around the sink's edge until the pleasure bordered on pain, and finally, finally, he came with a silent, shuddering groan that wracked his frame.
thick ropes of cum erupted from his cock, splattering across his hand and dripping down onto the floor. his body jerked and spasmed, his hips bucking wildly as he rode out the waves of his intense release. and still, he bit back the sounds of his rapture, his face contorted in a silent scream of ecstasy.
he rests his back against the cool tile, letting the wall take his weight.
his head tips back just enough to expose his throat, breath shuddering as he triesâagainâto find its rhythm. in through the nose. out through parted lips. slow it down. contain it.
his jaw loosens, and the dog tag slips free from between his teeth and falls back against his chest.
caleb closes his eyes.
for a moment, all he can feel is the aftermathâhis hand slides up to press flat against the door beside him, steadying himself as if the room might tilt.
if he's this lost in just masturbating to the thought of you, what more if he finally gets to be inside you?
god.
it unsettles him how easy it is, how effortlessly you undo him without ever touching him, without even knowing.
just the thought of you reduces him to this quiet wreck trying to remember how to breathe like a normal person. he lets out a soft, humorless laugh under his breath.
âyou have no idea,â
he opens his eyes and stares at nothing, replaying you with surgical clarity: the curve of your mouth when you smile without thinking. the way your voice stays even, never bending toward him the way his bends toward you every time.
the simple fact of your presence, enough to tip him off balance...
~
you wake up with your head split clean down the middle, light pressing too hard against your eyes, your mouth feels really dry and sour with regret. the room is unfamiliarâstripped of the partyâs noise like it never existed. the bed beneath you isnât yours, either.
your phone is on the nightstand, charged, and your shoes are lined up by the door.
someone sure took care of you.
the memory comes back in pieces.
caleb...
you sit up slowly, head throbbing, and scan the room. he isnât here. no messages or anything like that - just the quiet evidence of his presence, already cleaned away. you donât feel panicked. you donât feel grateful either. mostly, you feel mildly inconvenienced by the gap in your memory.
monday morning arrives then.
by the time you make it to campus, the social hall hums with weekday lifeâvoices layered over each other, chairs scraping, the smell of coffee and crowd. you sit with your friends at one of the long tables, hands wrapped around a paper cup, listening as they dissect friday night like itâs a shared dream.
âi donât remember half of it,â someone laughs.
âyou disappeared,â another points out, looking at you. âwe thought you left.â
âmaybe i did,â you say, rubbing your temple. across you, a table away, someone is asleep.
hood pulled low, arms crossed on the table, head turned away just enough that you canât make out his face. his posture is unbothered, like he belongs anywhere he decides to stay. something about the shape of him tugs at your attentionâfamiliar, but not urgent enough to investigate.
your friend keeps talking.
âhey,â she says suddenly, lowering her voice. âhave you seen jaden lately?â
you blink. âno, i haven't,â
âhe hasnât been around,â another adds. âlikeâat all. hasnât replied to anyone. itâs been, what, almost three weeks?â
three weeks?
you frown faintly, thinking. jadenâs name slides through your head and bumps into the memory of rain soaking through your clothes as youâd laughed under a borrowed umbrella, him walking you home, and the wet pavements.
that was the last time, wasnât it?
âmaybe heâs busy,â you say, because itâs the easiest explanation. âor sick.â
someone shrugs. the conversation drifts on, attention pulled elsewhere, already bored of absence.
you take another sip of coffee and glance, without really meaning to, at the sleeping figure across your table.
the hoodie shifts slightly, and his hand moves, just enough to suggest awareness.
you look away.
âmaybe we should check on jaden,â you say, stirring your drink absently. âlike⌠go to his apartment later or something. just to make sure heâs alive.â
a few people nod. someone says, âyeah, do that. i'm starting to get worried of him.â
then someone laughs, sharp and sudden. âoh my god, waitâspeaking of friday.â
you hum in response, distracted.
âthe crush thing,â she continues. âby the pool.â
âyou remember that?â another voice chimes in, grinning at you. âwhen we asked who your crush was?â
you pause.
âyou totally looked at someone, like very obviously.â
âyeah,â someone else adds. âyou looked right atââ
you cut in. âit wasnât obvious.â your tone is flat, mildly corrective.
âcome on,â they insist. âwho was it?â
thereâs a stretch of silence that feels longer than it is.
âi donât really talk about that stuff,â you say.
they groan and continue to push.
âokay, but hypothetically.â
âjust say it.â
âwe already know.â
you sigh. and finally, you give them what they want. âwhat about it if i like caleb?â
the words land without flourish. there's no smile, no nervous laugh. your voice stays even, almost bored with the confession. you continue, as if clarifying a logistical detail. âheâs my type.â
thatâs it.
âoh my god,â someone laughs, leaning closer. âyou know what people say about caleb, right?â
you hum noncommittally, already half-detached as the teasing starts to pile up. âapparently he lives at the gym.â
âyeah, have you seen his back?â
âyou should check his socials,â another adds, grinning. âitâs honestly unfair.â
you roll your eyes, slow and deliberate. âiâm not doing homework on a guy,â you mildly scoff. âif i wanted to look, i would.â
that earns a chorus of groans and mock disappointment. someone nudges your shoulder, someone else mutters that youâre impossible. you let it wash over you, because rumors donât interest you and bodies donât impress you enough to warrant effort. caleb remains, in your mind, exactly what heâs always been.
the bell rings.
chairs scrape back, conversations fracture mid-sentence, and people scatter toward their respective buildings. you stand, sling your bag over your shoulder, and follow the flow without looking back.
you donât see the way the figure at the other table stirs the moment your footsteps fade. the slow lift of his head. the way his body uncoils like heâs been awake far longer than anyone suspects.
caleb slides the hoodie back from his hair.
his face is faintly flushed, color blooming high along his cheekbones. his eyesâa little too wideâtrack the empty space you left behind. a hand comes up, absentminded, to rake through his hair, leaving it artfully disheveled in a way that looks unintentional and isnât.
for a second, he just sits there. then he exhales, something breathless and disbelieving, mouth curving into a smile thatâs soft and stunned all at once.
you like him.
caleb slowly stands, shoulders rolling back as he slips fully into himself again. by the time he moves to join the current of students, heâs wide awake now.
~
after class, the sky has settled into that dull, undecided gray that makes everything feel suspended.
jadenâs building is older than the rest nearbyâthree floors, narrow stairwell, paint chipped thin from years of use. you climb to the third floor with a growing sense of unease, phone already in your hand.
you stop in front of his door to knock.
nothing.
you dial his number as you wait, pressing the phone to your ear, listening to it ring unanswered. you knock again, louder this time. still nothing.
minutes bleed together. ten. twenty. almost thirty.
youâre just starting to consider calling someoneâanyoneâwhen you hear footsteps behind you.
âhey,â a voice says, familiar enough to make you turn immediately. âyou.â
you look over your shoulder.
and itâs... caleb?
heâs dressed downâblack compression shirt clinging cleanly to his torso, sleeves hugging muscle without effort. a black cap shadows his eyes, brim low and casual. heâs carrying two grocery bags, one in each hand.
he pauses when he sees you, eyebrows lifting just a little.
âwhat are you doing here?â you ask, the concern in your voice overriding any social preamble.
he tilts his head, then nods toward the door youâve been knocking on. âi was gonna ask you the same thing.â
you glance back at jadenâs door, then at caleb. âiâm checking on a friend. he hasnât answered anyone in weeks.â
caleb follows your gaze, his expression shifts into a thoughtful one. âoh, well, i live here.â
you blink. âhere?â
he gestures vaguely down the hall, then back toward the door beside you. âyeah, third floor.â
the words settle slowly.
ââŚwait, you and jadenââ
âare neighbors,â caleb finishes easily.
the hallway feels smaller all of a sudden, quieter, like the air has been rearranged around the information.
you didnât know that.
you didnât know a lot of things, apparently.
caleb shifts the grocery bags in his hands, plastic rustling softly. âheâs not answering?â
âno... iâve been here for a while.â
he hums, considering, eyes flicking once more to the door. âthatâs weird,â he says calmly. and somehow, the way he says it makes you feel like it isnât.
he glances at your phone, then at the door again, as if checking the same conclusion you already reached. âhave you eaten?â he asks, casual, like it just occurred to him.
you shake your head. ânot really.â
thereâs a brief pauseâbarely thereâbefore he nods once. âthen while we wait,â he says, shifting the grocery bags in his hands, âyou can come to my place, was about to make dinner anyway.â
you hesitate.
itâs instinctive, the kind of pause you donât consciously justify. this wasnât part of the plan. you were supposed to knock, worry, maybe leave a message taped to a door. not follow someone into their apartment.
caleb doesnât rush you. he just waits, patient, like he already knows how this will go.
ââŚokay,â
his place is a few doors away.
inside, the apartment closes around you with a quiet thud. the interior is stark in a way that feels intentional: concrete tones, sharp lines, furniture chosen for function rather than comfort. itâs quite clean, but not welcoming.
gloomy, you think, without quite meaning it as a criticism.
caleb sets the grocery bags down on the counter and reaches up to pull off his cap. he ruffles his hair once, resetting himself now that youâre here. then he looks at you.
âiâll cook steak, how's that?â
you blink, processing, then nod. âsure.â
you move toward the kitchen island and take a seat on one of the tall chairs, legs dangling slightly as you settle in. the surface is cool beneath your palms. from here, you can see everythingâhis movements, the quiet efficiency with which he unpacks the groceries.
he moves like this is normal.
like this is planned.
he knows youâre watching.
not because youâre obvious about itâyou arenâtâbut because caleb has always been painfully attuned to the way your attention moves.
his back faces you as he cooks. the pan hisses softly, oil blooming into heat. he rolls his shoulders once, sleeves of the compression shirt hugging muscle like it was designed to be admired. he doesnât turn around. he lets you look.
then you stop.
you reach for your phone instead. caleb catches the faint shift in your posture in the reflection of the blackened microwave door.
he's a bit sad you've stopped looking at him. nonetheless, he salts the steak with care, flips it, listens.
your friendâs voice echoes in your headâcheck his social mediaâand you do.
caleb doesnât post. you already knew that. there's no grid, no carefully curated persona. just a profile picture and silence.
exceptâthere's a story posted an hour ago.
your thumb taps before you can reconsider.
itâs a mirror shot with gym lighting, and his back to the glass, shirt pulled just enough to expose the clean, brutal lines of muscle and spine, skin sheened with sweat. the kind of photo that isnât trying to be sexyâand is, because of it.
you feel heat rush up your neck.
caleb smiles to himself.
he turns then, quiet as a thought, and you donât hear him approach. youâre still staring at your phone when his shadow falls over you, close enough that you can smell him.
âyou were really drunk last friday,â he says mildly.
you jolt.
âiââ you lock your phone, flustered and mortified. âiâm sorry. i didnât mean toââ
your words tangle, and caleb watches them fall apart with fond patience. âdid iâŚ,â you hesitate, cheeks warm now for a different reason. âdid i say anything weird? or did anything inappropriate?â
that gets him.
he stills. the pan sizzles behind him, forgotten for half a beat too long. his gaze drops to your faceâalmost tender in how carefully he studies your worry.
inappropriate.
the word is almost funny.
he thinks of your weight against him, your breath, the way you trusted him without ever saying so.
caleb pauses just long enough to make the silence mean something. then he smiles. slowly.
he reaches out before you can interpret it, taps your cheek twice with his palm, light as a promise. âwhat if,â he murmurs, âiâm the one who did something inappropriate?â
he straightens before you can respond, turns back to the stove like he hasnât just tipped the room off its axis.
but his ears are burning.
you stay quiet.
he exhales first. âiâm kidding, you didnât do anything inappropriate. nothing happened.â he doesnât look at you when he says it. he turns back to the stove, gives the steak one last glance, lets the heat kiss it just right. control, caleb reminds himself.
restraint looks good on him. it always has.
when he plates the food, he does it neatly, he sets it down in front of you with a soft clink, the meat resting perfectly with juices glistening. he watches your eyes widen despite yourself.
you dig in almost immediately, hunger winning over caution. caleb leans against the counter, digging in as well, arms folding loosely as he watches you eat like it matters. like you trust what heâs given you.
âthis is really good,â you say around a bite, unguarded.
his smile comes easy at that. âthank you, sweetheart.â
then you pause.
he notices before you do.
your gaze flicks to his mouth, brows knitting just slightly. caleb tilts his head curiouslyâand thatâs when you reach out.
your finger brushes his lip. just once, absent-minded, intimate in a way that isnât trying to be. âyouâve got something,â
caleb stills.
his heart slams so hard it almost hurts.
for half a second, the world narrows to the press of your fingertip, the faint heat of you, the obscene tenderness of the gesture. he doesnât move. doesnât breathe. doesnât dare.
then he laughsâunder his breathâas if that might save him. âcareful,â he says, eyes dropping to his plate. âyou act like that with guys, youâre gonna get yourself a boyfriend real fast.â
you scoff immediately. âno i wonât.â
caleb hums, amused, and thenâwithout thinking, without filtering the thought as he usually doesâhe adds, âyou didnât seem to mind when you were with jaden. laughing and leaning into him under that umbrella.â
you blink.
âhow did youâ?â
caleb blinks back.
shit.
the realization hits him a fraction too late, sharp and sudden. he straightens just a bit. he hadnât meant to say it like that. he hadnât meant to say it at all.
he laughs again, a little louder this time. âpeople talk, you know how it is.â he watches you closely as he says it, watches to see if you believe him. âjadenâs a good guy, from what i hear.â
you take another bite of steak, slower now. âyou sure hear a lot.â
he smiles at that, âonly whatâs worth hearing.â
there it isâthat faint edge beneath the joke. it pricks at you, subtle but present. you glance up at him, the way his eyes stay on you a second too long before flicking away.
âhe hasnât been answering anyone,â you say. âitâs weird.â
âmm.â caleb hums, âheâs like that sometimes, right? just disappears.â
ânot like this.â you pause, watching his reaction. âitâs been weeks.â
caleb tilts his head considering. âpeople change though.â
the way he says it makes your fingers curl faintly against the plate. you let out a breathy laugh, half-joking. âyou sound like you donât like him.â
he chuckles, âi donât dislike him. i just donât think heâs very⌠reliable.â
âand you know that how?â
caleb finally meets your gaze head-on. thereâs warmth thereâalwaysâbut itâs concentrated now, focused in a way that makes your stomach tighten. âi pay attention,â
you should brush it off. you almost do. instead, you find yourself leaning back in the chair. âyou notice a lot about me too,â
âyouâre not hard to notice.â
that should be flattering.
and yet, you swallow. âyou knew what burger i liked, you knew i hadnât eaten today, you knew about jaden and the umbrella.â
caleb lets out a quiet laugh, like youâve amused him. âare those crimes now?â
ânoâŚjust interesting.â
for the first time since you sat down, caleb moves closer. âyou donât mind, do you?â he asks, âme paying attention?â
âi donât know,â
his eyes soften at that, something almost tender flickering through them. but beneath itâyou catch something else. possession, maybe. or anticipation. âthatâs okay, you donât have to know yet.â
you look away first, heart doing something uncomfortable in your chest. part of you wants to push. to ask how he knows so much. why it feels like heâs always one step ahead of your questions.
you finish the last bite slower than the rest, more aware now of the quiet between movements. caleb notices, but he doesnât comment. he simply reaches for your plate when youâre done.
âiâll wash these later,â he says, setting both plates in the sink. he turns back to you, leaning his hip lightly against the counter, and his gaze lingers on you in a way that feels⌠assessing. âdo you still want to stay? i was going to take a half bath.â
you shake your head. âi should get going.â
âthen iâll walk you out,â he says, âafter i rinse off.â
âyou donât have toââ
âitâs fine.â his tone is warm, agreeable. non-negotiable in a way that doesnât raise its voice. âjust a few minutes.â
you hesitate, then nod. âalright...â
thatâs all it takes. he turns away from you and heads toward the bathroom, rolling his shoulders as he goes, already loosening the tension from his body. you watch him disappear past the doorwayâthe broad line of his back, the confident ease of his stepsâuntil the door clicks shut behind him.
you tell yourself youâre only looking because waiting feels awkward, because standing still makes you too aware of the running water down the hall, of the fact that caleb is alone behind a locked door, rinsing heat and effort from his skin while you remain in his space.
you step off the chair quietly.
from calebâs perspectiveâthough heâs not here to see itâyou move the way you always do when youâre thinking, eyes tracing rather than darting, and the apartment opens up to you in fragments.
a book on the side table. not just any bookâone you mentioned once, offhandedly, weeks ago. you never said you owned it. only that you liked the ending. there it is anyway, dog-eared at the same chapter youâd quoted.
a spare mug in the cabinet, chipped in a familiar place. the same brand you keep at home.
even the way the furniture is arranged feels tailored to someone who dislikes clutter, who hates feeling boxed in.
to you.
your curiosity sharpens into something colder.
so you move farther in. the sound of the shower continues steadily, a soft rush through the wall, distant but present. caleb is taking his time. he always does when he thinks he has it.
you stop short at the center table.
thereâs a necklace there. a small, familiar pendant that youâve seen disappear beneath shirts more times than you can count.
jadenâs.
your breath catches, like your body forgot how to finish the inhale. your fingers hover above it, then pull back as if the metal might burn you.
why is this here?
your mind scrambles for explanations that donât quite land. borrowing? coincidence? something youâre missing? but the weight in your chest doesnât lift. it sinks deeper, spreading nauseatingly.
behind you, the hallway seems longer now. calebâs bedroom door is closed. and it shouldnât matter. itâs none of your business. youâve already crossed some invisible line just by being here, by looking.
and yet, the shower keeps running.
you swallow. it's just a peek, you think.
you move down the hallway like youâre trespassing inside a thought that isnât yours.
every step is quiet, your attention split between the closed bedroom door ahead of you and the bathroom behindâwhere the shower still runs. the sound should reassure you. instead, it presses against your nerves, reminding you that caleb is here.
the air feels cooler in the corridor, much denser. you stop in front of his bedroom door. your heart thuds loud enough that youâre certain it must be audible, a traitorous rhythm in your ears as you lift your hand. your fingers hover, trembling just slightly, before curling around the doorknob.
just a peek, you tell yourself again. just enough to quiet the unease.
you donât get the chance to.
before you can turn, a large hand comes down against the doorframe beside your head, close enough that you feel the vibration of it more than you hear it.
you gasp and spin, losing your balance for half a second before instinct catches up.
caleb is there, just stepped out of the bathroom, shirtless, skin still damp, droplets tracing slow paths down his chest and disappearing beneath the waistband of loose black pants. his hair is darkened from the water, and a small towel hangs around his neck to catch its dampness.
from calebâs perspective, the sight of you like thisâcaught mid-reach and eyes wideâis almost unbearable. not because itâs shocking, because itâs intimate. because it feels like heâs walked in on a truth you were trying not to admit to yourself.
he smiles, like this is exactly where he expected to find you.
âwhatâre you doing?â he asks gently.
his voice is calm. too calm. it contrasts painfully with the way your pulse spikes, the way heat floods your face. you open your mouth to answer, but the words donât cooperate. they tangle, stall, dissolve before they can become excuses.
âiâ i was justââ you stop, frustrated, swallowing hard.
caleb doesnât interrupt, nor does he move his hand. he leans slightly closer instead, not enough to touch you, but enough that youâre acutely aware of the warmth radiating from him. his eyes stay on your face, patient, intent, and unblinking.
take your time, he thinks.
finally, you straighten, forcing yourself to breathe evenly, to meet his gaze head-on. ââŚyouâre unsettling me, caleb.â
for a split second, something flickers behind his eyesâsurprise, maybe. then something warmer, almost pleased.
âunsettling?â he repeats softly, like the word interests him. he tilts his head, studying you with an intensity that makes your skin feel too tight. âi didnât mean to make you uncomfortable, but you wandered pretty far in.â
you donât step back.
that, more than anything, is what caleb notices first.
your pulse is loudâhe can see it, jumping at your throatâbut your spine stays straight. your expression settles into something almost flat, as if fear has to pass through several filters before itâs allowed to show. it intrigues him.
you draw in a breath. âyou...watch me too much,â caleb doesnât interrupt, he lets you go on. âyou know things you shouldnât, like- like my habits, my preferences. and jaden. i donât tell you everything, so explain how you know.â
all caleb could think about is how beautiful you are right now.
the way you confront him without dramatics, the way you donât ask why, only how. the way you keep your distance emotionally even now, even cornered in a hallway with his arm blocking the door.
he catches every word and every place where you could have softened and chose not to.
âi pay attention,â he says again, but this time itâs quieter, more honest than it should be.
"really? crossing the line is... paying attention?"
"no line has ever mattered to me when it comes to you."
you scoff, faint and humorless. âthatâs not an answer.â
he smiles wider, the kind of smile people trust. âit is, just not the one youâre expecting.â he shifts his weight, finally lowering his arm from the doorframeâhe wants you to feel like youâve regained ground. âyouâre observant too, you just donât like what this one implies.â
you search his face, clearly trying to decide whether heâs deflecting or confessing. he lets you. heâs good at thisâknows exactly how much to give. âi donât mean to make you uneasy,â he says softly. âbut when you care about someone, you remember things. that doesnât make it sinister.â
care?
he watches how the word lands. how you donât react the way most people would. just a narrowing of your eyes, analytical.
âyouâre twisting it,â you say. âi didnât say you cared.â
âyou didnât have to.â he tilts his head, âif you want me to stop doing something, tell me what it is. donât guess at my intentions. youâll only scare yourself.â
itâs subtle, he reframes your fear as imagination, your instincts as overthinking. and it makes you hesitate just for a second.
youâre scared, yesâbut youâre also curious. and that curiosity is the crack heâs been waiting for. âi donât like feeling like i donât know where i stand,â
caleb nods, as if thatâs the most reasonable thing in the world. âthen stay right here, i wonât move you.â
you donât realize it yetâbut the moment you chose to confront him instead of leaving, heâd already won something. and caleb, patient as ever, is more than happy to let you believe this was your move.
you stand there, barely breathing, and caleb notices every subtle shift in your posture. he takes it all in, cataloging it quietly, a predator and a poet at once.
âi think itâs time,â he murmurs, almost a caress. âtime you understood⌠everything.â
you donât respond. you canât. your chest has tightened so suddenly that every breath feels precious.
he leans slightly, just enough for the shadow of him to fall across your face. âeverything about me. everything i've needed. everything i've⌠wanted.â
his words arenât rushed. theyâre seductive in the quietest, deadliest wayâand youâre just speechless, caught in the pull of his gaze.
âyou donât know how youâre supposed to feel, do you?â he says, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. his thumb brushes lightly against your jaw, ghosting a line that makes your pulse jump. âdonât worry...most people donât.â
thereâs a pause, just long enough for your own heartbeat to fill your ears.
maybe the problem isn't me, caleb thinks. maybe... it's you.
âdo you want to hear a secret?â he asks, voice dropping lower.
you just stare at him, flabbergasted, breath hitching.
âgood,â he murmurs, interpreting your silence as consent. âiâll take that as a yes.â
before your brain can even catch up, he moves. his hand cups your chin with an ease that leaves you no choice but to tilt your head up, and the other braces against the door behind you.
"mm-!" his lips press against yours, the heat from his chest pressing fully into yours, and your knees threaten to buckle.
he doesnât pull away, not when youâre beautifully breathless, not when your hands twitch, uncertain where to place them. he leans in just enough that every inch of him presses into your senses.
âyouâre mine,â he whispers against your lips, and itâs not a threat. itâs a promise, and you canât think, canât respond, canât even fully comprehend how tight your body has gone under the weight of it.
from his perspective, every second is perfection: your hesitation, your surprise, the flush rising on your cheeks, the way youâre pinned yet unresisting. he leans in just a fraction more, teeth grazing the soft curve of your lower lip as he deepens the kiss, and he doesnât plan on ever letting go.
he whispers again, âiâve wanted you for so long,â and it vibrates against your skin, against the fragile line of your lips, as if every word is carefully designed to consume you.
you close your eyes, heart hammering in your chest, caught between disbelief and the strange, undeniable comfort of being consumed by him.
âyou feelâŚâ he murmurs against your lips, a vibration you feel more than hear, âso good. so... goddamn.. good.â
his teeth graze your lower lip just enough to make you shiver. he moves down your jawline, tracing it with the same precise attention he uses when memorizing the curves of your body, mapping each line with reverent obsession.
your pulse spikes, your skin feels too hot, too alive. and his hand slides gently around your waist, pulling you closer, anchoring you against him. the other rises slowly, threading into your hair at the nape of your neck, tilting your head so the column of your throat is exposed. he inhales it, lips grazing, tasting, a feather-light press that leaves you breathless.
he whispers again, âyouâre mine⌠mine to notice, mine to keepâŚâ
caleb's damp hair clings to his forehead, strands falling slightly over his eyes. the faint sheen on his skin catches the light from the hallway, highlighting the taut planes of muscle beneath the skinâhis shoulders, chest, arms.
he moves down to your collarbone, lips brushing, teasing, savoring. every exhale against your skin is a confession, a claim, a promise. his hands explore just enough to make you aware of his strength, his control, without ever forcing or frightening you.
he mumbles against your throat, words melting into the skin: âevery piece of you⌠every thought⌠iâve wanted it all. and now i can have just this.â
and for some reason, against all reason, it feels right. you lean into him, surrendering, letting him hold you, map youânot cruelly, but with the slow, dainty precision of someone who has memorized every part of you, who savors each moment as if you were his favorite candy.
caleb smiles against your skin, confident. devastatingly sexy.
you pull away suddenly, hands pressing against his chest with more force than you meant to use.
caleb lets himself be pushed back.
that, more than anything, steals the breath from your lungs.
his body yields easily, a half-step back, palms open at his sides like heâs showing you he never intended to trap you. the space between you snaps open, cold and dizzying.
you turn your face away and breathe. once. twice. again. your heart is loud, disobedient. âitâsââ you start, then stop, swallowing. âitâs too fast.â
caleb watches you like heâs watching weather roll inâyou keep going because stopping feels worse. âiâve never⌠kissed anyone like that. i donât know how far this is supposed to go.â
when you finally look back at him, you realize he hasnât interrupted once. heâs just staring at you.
then he leans in slightly and murmurs, almost to himself, âyou look...beautiful even when youâre overwhelmed.â
ââŚwhat?â
was he even listening?
heat rushes up your neck, straight to your face, traitorous and immediate. your reaction betrays you before you can mask it, and caleb sees itâhis lips curve faintly then.
âi was listening, i just didnât want to stop looking at you.â his hand lifts slowly, deliberately, like heâs giving you time to pull away again if you want to. you donât.
the back of his fingers brush your cheek, feather-light, barely there. then your shoulder. then the curve of your hip, just tracing, like heâs reminding himself youâre real.
your breath catches.
and caleb takes your hand next, guiding it gently, reverently, as if itâs something fragile. he brings it to his mouth and presses a kiss into your knuckles, there's a soundless whimper of devotion more than desire.
he lifts his gaze to yours, eyes undone in a way that feels far more dangerous than confidence. âdo you know how badly youâve imprinted yourself on me?â he whispers.
caleb eases back just enough for you to breathe. it costs him more than you could ever see. âwe can stop, if you want to.â
his body betrays him anyway.
from where you stand, you can see itâthe way his fingers curl slightly, as if resisting the urge to pull you back in. the way he's fixed on you with an intensity that borders on hunger. heâs still close enough that you feel his warmth, still angled toward you like gravity hasnât released its hold.
he means what he says, but he also doesnât want it to be true. inside calebâs head, he begs silently.
don't stop. please donât stop.
his thoughts crowd in, sharp and feverish, all orbiting you. the way your breath hitched when you pulled away, the way your hand felt in his, the way your mouth softened under his. he wantsâno, needsâto continue, to show you how carefully he could unravel you, how deeply he already has.
say yes, his mind pleads. let me keep going. let me prove it.
his chest aches with the force of it, with the restraint heâs forcing on himself. he has done terrible things with calm hands and a clear head. he has crossed lines without flinching, cleaned up messes the world never noticed.
for you.
he doesnât think the words out loud. he never would. but the truth sits heavy and warm in his chest: he has already chosen you over everyone else. irrevocably.
outwardly, he softens his grip, though he doesnât fully let go. his thumb strokes once, unconsciously, over your wristâan echo of possession he hasnât earned yet.
âi donât want to scare you,â caleb says, voice roughened by restraint. âi just⌠want you to choose.â
his eyes search your face, desperate in a way thatâs barely contained, like a fault line just under the surface. heâs smiling, but itâs fragile.
choose me, he thinks. choose this. choose now.
you donât answer himânot yes, not noâand the silence stretches. he exhales softly, a slow sigh that curves into a smile, as if heâs already forgiven you for hesitating.
âitâs okay,â he murmurs, âyou donât have to rush.â
his hand lifts again, unhurried, and this time you donât pull away. from his perspective, this feels like standing at the edge of something sacred.
his finger traces a careful path down the center of your chestâa line of awareness following his touch. he watches your breathing change, then lower, to your stomach, then down to your lower abdomen where he presses lightly, testing, grounding you in the moment.
âdoes that feel good?â he asks.
you donât answer, your silence thrills him more than words ever could.
his finger drifts a little further, right where your clit is. the pressure is firmer now, deliberate but still restrained, as if heâs asking permission without actually asking. he repeats the question, âdoes it?â
your throat works, you hesitate, then you nod.
calebâs breath catches. itâs sharp, involuntary, the kind of reaction he canât fully hide. his smile deepens into satisfaction, eyes flicking up to your face like heâs just been handed proof of something he already knew.
âgood,â he murmurs, approval threaded through the word. "i'll... just do this," he sneaks his hand under your shorts, feeling the dampness of your panty on his digits. this makes you squirm, the back of your hand covering your face. "i'll put it in, okay?" caleb's just about to shove a finger in, when you grab his wrist almost frantically.
"waitâ"
"hmm?" caleb stops short, eyes flicking up to you. "what's wrong, dear?"
"i... isn't that painful?"
his look of curiosity then turns into one of delight, how cute you are. "have you not tried putting your own finger in?"
"wh- why would you ask me that?"
"so i know how many fingers i can put in," caleb drags his voice in a seductive manner, eyes intentionally looking you down. "and how fast i can go," he continues pressing on your clit with little nudges. "and... how deep i should be."
you've lost count of how many times caleb have had your mouth ajar, utterly perplexed at this man's range of quality. there you are again, staring at him with furrowed brows, and despite yourself, you can feel your pussy clenching around nothing at his words.
"let's make a deal, pip," caleb places an open-mouthed kiss on your jawline, and instinctively, you tilt your head and shut your eyes. "every time you don't speak, i'll do whatever i want with you, 'kay?"
"aah!" that's what you let out the second caleb slides a long finger in, your hands flying to his shoulders for something to grip onto.
he catches your mouth, sealing your noises with a feverish lapping while his fingers linger at your slick heat, skimming just enough to make you ache, barely breaching you before retreating again.
when instinct makes you try to escape from his hand, his grip tightens, stopping you coldâand the small sound you make is answered only by his cruel restraint. he pulls his fingers back, not to leave you alone, but to continue tormenting your bud, circling, brushing, deliberately avoiding both your clit and the relief of letting himself sink inside.
without any warning, caleb pulls away and buries his face into your neck, his teeth sink into your skin as two of his fingers slide into you in one smooth motion. a shaky sound slips from your throat, the sharp sting blurring into heat, and when you instinctively try to move away from his hand, he bites you againâan unspoken command to stay still.
you part your lips to tell him to slow down, but he steals the moment from youâhis mouth claiming yours as his fingers drive into you with sudden intent. his tongue presses past your teeth, devouring every broken sound you make, swallowing them whole while his hand moves with an unrelenting rhythm. itâs rough, almost punishing, and he knows itâs exactly what pulls the gasps from your chestâthe obscene, wet sounds of his movements filling the room with every sharp roll of his wrist.
âcâcaleb,â you choke out, between the kisses, your legs threatening to give beneath you, already spiraling toward release as his fingers strike that sensitive place inside you again and again.
"yeah?" caleb breathes, the veins in his arm almost poking out as he makes an effort to piston into you with just two of his fingers.
you roll your head back against the door, arms now wrapping around his neck. you hate how the heat in your gut is starting to betray you. "f-feels good, caleb..." you cry out, tears starting to form around the corners of your eyes.
caleb stills abruptly, the sound of your voice cutting through him like a blade. he pulls back as if struck by the suddenness of it, breath catching. for a moment, he only staresâthen his gaze drops to his own hand, glistening with evidence of just how far heâs pushed you.
a quiet, disbelieving breath leaves him, something between a laugh and a sigh, and that familiar, dangerous smirk curves his mouth.
âlook at you....â he brings a finger to your cheek, caressing the texture of your skin ever so softly. "do you realize how being very good i am right now?" he whispers, " "...you should appreciate how hard this is f'me."
hard?...
"aren't you gunna say anything, bunny?"
you purse your lips together, shy and avoidant. you aren't familiar with these feelings, and you aren't sure how to approach them. so all you settle for is silence. just silence.
but, despite yourself, you like that caleb takes it as consent. that he's doing the honor of adjusting the sails. even though you haven't processed the fact that caleb's admitted his obsession toward you long enough for it to sink into your chest.
all you can understand, right now, is not that caleb had implied of doing horrible things just to keep you in his orbit, but the mere sensation of his hands on you, allover you.
and the way his gaze just tells you to let him in, to let yourself feel him.
so you do.
you lunge forward before you can think better of it, fingers fisting into his damp hair, palms cradling his face as you rise on your toes to crash yourself against him.
the world stops. his eyes squint shut on instinct, then flutter open again in disbelief, ghost-blinking like his mind has short-circuited. this wasnât the script. this wasnât how it was supposed to go.
youâre kissing him.
you chose him.
oh. god.
he makes a sound low in his throat, something broken and reverent all at once, and thatâs all the hesitation he gets. he cannotâwill notâlet this slip through his fingers. his hands move before his thoughts can catch up, sliding securely under your thighs, lifting you with terrifying ease.
youâre suddenly higher, closer, pressed to him as if you were always meant to fit there. he keeps the kiss intact, unbroken, unhurried now that he has you where he wants you, like this is the only reasonable outcome.
his grip is firm but careful, holding you as if youâre something precious heâs finally been allowed to claimâmouth still on yours with a heart thundering with the knowledge that this timeâyou came to him.
caleb carries you across the living area as if the distance is nothing. the room blurs at the edges until the sofa catches the back of his knees and he sinks into it with a soft exhale, cushions swallowing him whole.
you end up straddling his hips without quite realizing how, knees pressing into the give of the pillows, hands braced at his shoulders. for a split second, the closeness startles you bothâthe way your balance shifts, the way his hands hover at your waist, unsure whether to hold or let go.
you don't stop kissing. itâs clumsy in the way first things always are. your mouths donât quite align at first, teeth bumping faintly. caleb lets out a breath that sounds almost like a laugh, smiling into the kiss, relief and wonder softening the sharpness he usually wears so well. he follows your pace instead of setting it, learning you as he goes, tentative and greedy all at once.
your lips part, meet again. tongues brushâhesitant, exploratoryâlike youâre both testing how far the other will go. itâs almost intoxicating not because itâs perfect, but because it isnât. because youâre figuring it out together, right here, tangled up on his sofa like this is the most natural place in the world to be.
unconsciously, you donât register when the kiss stops being just a kiss.
your body has already begun answering for youâthe way your hips rock forward and grind against him isnât intentional, just a restless seeking born from heat and closeness. you think youâre only trying to stay balanced. you think youâre only following the rhythm heâs set.
caleb notices.
his mouth falters first. the kiss breaks unevenly, breath catching sharp between his teeth. when he kisses you again, thereâs a sound this timeâlow, strained, embarrassingly honestâslipping into your mouth before he can stop it. his brows draw together, the smile gone, replaced by something raw and overstimulated.
then his hand closes around your arm.
he pulls you back just enough to break the contact, and the absence hits harder than the closeness ever did. calebâs face is flushed now, color climbing high on his cheekbones, his chest rising and falling too fast.
his gaze drops, just for a second, down belowâthe way his hardening bulge is pressed against your pussyâbefore snapping back up to your face, wide and almost accusatory, like heâs been wronged by his own body.
âdo you even know,â he asks, voice rough and frayed at the edges, âwhat youâre doing to me?â
you shake your head immediately. no, of course not. panic prickles at your skin, fear that you crossed a line you didnât even see. your hands loosen on his shoulders, ready to retreat, ready to apologize.
but caleb doesnât let you move away. instead, he shifts beneath you, giving you a grinding motion upwards. it presses the truth of him into the space between you, heat and tension where there hadnât been any a moment ago.
your breath stutters, because you realize how rock hard caleb is.
his eyes darken, embarrassed and ruined all at once. âthat,â he murmurs, almost helplessly, âthatâs what.â then, quieterâlike itâs a confession he never meant to giveââyouâre making it so much worse.â
and the way he says it makes your face burn, all the way down to your chest, because suddenly you realize this isnât a mistake to him at all.
"i'm sorry... i thought, maybe... that you would like itâ" the words slip out soft and clumsy, tripping over itself the way you suddenly feel. you apologize again, quieter this time, eyes darting away as if youâve misread everything.
caleb doesnât answer right away, and he just looks at you.
with that maddening, knowing ease of hisâhead tipped slightly, mouth curved in a slow, indulgent smile, like heâs watching a child stumble through something inevitable. his eyes donât leave you, not even when you keep talking, explaining yourself, backtracking.
âoh,â he murmurs, voice low and almost amused. âthere you goâŚâ
you falter. "i'm sorry, i don't know how to do thisâ i..."
âmmhmm,â he nods along as if heâs encouraging you to keep going, like your apologies are something sweet heâs savoring. âyeah, go on...â
it makes heat crawl up your neck. you almost snap at him for teasingâalmost tell him to stop looking at you like that, to take you seriouslyâbut before you can gather the words, caleb leans in just enough to steal the space from your lungs.
âdo you really think, that a sorry is what i need from you?â his gaze drifts down your chestâyour cleavageâlingering a second too long before returning to your face. the implication settles heavy in your chest, in the silence he leaves behind on purpose.
caleb exhales through his nose, smile deepening, and slowly, calebâs fingers find the hem of your shirt.
he lifts it just enough to break the line between what he knows and what heâs imagined, breath stalling in his chest as if the sight alone has struck something vital.
his eyes narrow with awe, staring at your boobs, the kind that makes his throat work as he swallows hard. "you're so... beautiful."
for a moment, he doesnât touch you. he just looks. "so beautiful it hurts."
then his hands rise, tentative at firstâtesting, asking without wordsâbefore confidence overtakes restraint. his palms are warm on your mounds, memorizing you as if heâs afraid the knowledge might be taken from him. his breathing turns uneven, and you feel the answer in his body before he ever says a word, the way he presses closer without meaning to.
caleb buries his face against you as he slides your brassiere down to take your nipple in his mouth, murmuring something unintelligible, something wrecked. he clings like a man starving, and all you can do is clutch at him, a sound slipping from your throat before you can stop it.
caleb presses closer, hips moving on instinct rather than intention, chasing a sensation he doesnât have language for yet.
he rolls his hips upward, eager to bury his clothed erection into your sex, and you feel the way his tongue is simultaneously laving the pain of your nipple. it's desperate, like a man whoâs wandered into paradise by accident and is terrified someone will drag him back out.
his arms lock around you, fingers digging in as though you might disappear if he loosens his hold even a little.
he nuzzles closer, face buried against your chest as if he belongs there, and every movement of his body is pleading, clumsy and earnest, like heâs trying to fuse himself to you through sheer will.
suddenly, caleb pulls away and forces you to rise up. "for a while," he says it almost like a moan, you almost smile from how undone he obviously is. but that immediately falters when you see him unbuckling his belt.
"caleb?"
"yeah?"
"are we... going to have sex?"
he looks up at you, pausing for just a second. "do you not want to?"
you gulp, because the most rational choice is to stop. you don't have a condom. and yet, you can't help but imagine the feeling of his cock buried deep into your womb. shit, just the image is enough to have you clenching your pussy.
"please."
your eyes snap back to caleb, and he's giving you that look. that same look he gave you when you helped him put on a shirt in your bedroom. that same desperate, puppy eyes. "please, please let me fuck you." his voice is raw with desperation, and it takes you aback.
"please let's do it, please let me..." he murmurs against your skin, hands going down your hips, lingering further. "let me thrust into you, let me feel how tight you are, please, please."
you stay silent.
"let me fuck you raw, please."
and that's all it takes.
all it takes for caleb to be lounged back against the pillows, his chiseled abs on full display beneath his rumpled shirt, sweat dripping down his flushed face. his eyes were glued to your every move now that your back is facing him (it was easier to put inside that way), a look of pure, unadulterated lust etched on his handsome features as you rode him with slow, sensual rolls of your hips. the way your ass bounced and jiggled with each thrust, swallowing his rock-hard cock to the hilt, left him absolutely spellbound.
caleb's hands quickly grew restless, roaming greedily over your curves. they slid from your hips, up to your waist, before eagerly descending to grasp at the pliant flesh of your ass. his calloused palms smoothed over the supple mounds, squeezing and kneading the giving skin as if he needed to map every dip and swell. he couldn't resist the urge to grab and mold your ass to his hands, his fingers sinking into the plush, pillowy flesh.
he grabbed two generous handfuls, squeezing them almost roughly as he spread your cheeks apart. this allowed him a shameless, unobstructed view of your slick, dripping pussy swallowing his thick cock to the hilt with each roll of your hips. "oh, god..." caleb groaned, his voice low and rough with lust, almost as if he spoke to himself. "you're... taking me so... well. shit, i can'tâ" his eyes remained watching your walls stretch around him, your body accepting every thick throbbing inch as he bucked up to meet your downward thrusts.
your thighs quivered with exertion, muscles burning from the intensity of your movements. beads of sweat trickled down your back, your body glistening from the heat of what you're doing. yet caleb remained oblivious to your fatigue, his hands still greedily exploring every inch of your curves. his touch turned almost rough in his fervor, fingers sinking into the pliant flesh of your rear with shameless abandon.
"keep going..." caleb's voice was a low, husky murmur, soft even as his grip tightened meanly on your hips. "c'mon, just a little more." he urged you on, eyes still riveted to the debauched sight of your dripping pussy swallowing his cock over and over, his own need overwhelming any thought of your exhaustion. "you can do itângh! take... a little more of this dick, bunny."
but, it seems you couldn't take it anymore. caleb felt you starting to slow down, a soft whimper escapes your parted lips. not wanting you to stop, he leans in and captured your cheek with a tender kiss from behind.
seizing the opportunity, he wrapped a strong arm around your waist, gripping you tightly. and with a swift and sudden movement, caleb flipped you both over, your body tumbling down to the armchair of the sofa. the change in position left you face down, your shapely ass now raised and presented.
he takes a moment to admire the erotic sight of your backside up in the air, your dripping pussy on full display, before standing up. rising to his feet behind you, he grabbed your hips in a firm grip, then, with a primal grunt, he slammed his rock-hard cock deep into your soaked, needy hole.
"angggh!" you scream, as caleb sets a wildly fast pace from the start, his hips pounding against your ass with a staccato rhythm, the obscene slap of skin on skin filling the room. he gripped you tighter, pulling you back onto his thick shaft as he pistoned into you, the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix with each brutal thrust.
the new angle allowed him to plunge even deeper than before, your body shaking from the force of his wild fucking. caleb leaned over your back, his sweat-slicked chest pressing against you as he growled filthy words of praise into your ear. "baby, this pussy is amazing. 'm gonna fucking ruin you, oka-ay?"
this is it.
this is heaven.
this is everything he's ever wanted, ever needed, ever imagined in the silence of his head. he's replayed this scene in him for many impossible times.
caleb's head rolled back, eyes squeezing shut as he fucked into you with wild abandon. guttural whines and grunts spilled from his lips, his hips slamming against yours with a force that shook the sofa.
"caleb, wait... don't cum inside," you gasped out between ragged breaths, feeling your own peak fast approaching. but he paid no heed to your plea, instead choosing to drive into you even harder and faster.
a dark chuckle rumbled up from caleb's chest, vibrating against your back as he leaned over you. "don't cum inside? mmm, you say that, but your pussy is squeezing me so fucking tight," he punctuated his words with a sharp thrust, grinding his pelvis against your ass. "like it's trying to beg for my cum."
suddenly, caleb's hand fisted in your hair, gripping the strands tightly as he yanked your head back. a surprised, wanton moan tore from your throat at the sudden sting of pain, your back arching as he forced your chin to tilt up. your pussy clenched around him, walls fluttering wildly as a fresh gush of arousal flooded your core.
then, without warning, he wrenched his swollen cock out of your dripping cunt, the sudden emptiness making you whimper. before you could process the loss, hot, thick ropes of cum erupted from the weeping slit of his dick, painting streaks of pearly white across the smooth expanse of your ass.
caleb's body shuddered and jerked as he came undone, his low moan rising in pitch until it almost sounded like a sob of ecstasy. he milked his pulsing cock, stroking it through the throes of his intense orgasm until the last weak spurts dribbled onto your skin. panting harshly, caleb slumped forward over your back, his chest heaving against you as he tried to catch his breath. "fuck... fuck..." he gasped, still gripping your hair with a trembling hand.
almost in disappointment, you look back up at him with a slightly confused gaze. "i... i thought you'd cum inside?"
still panting softly from his intense climax, caleb looked up as you glanced back over your shoulder at him. his eyes, though glazed with lust, met yours with a hint of amusement. a lazy smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he took in your questioning gaze.
"what, baby? did you really think i was gonna pull out at the last second?" caleb chuckled, he brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face with his fingertips, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the rough grip he'd had moments before. "i'm still the same guy, dummy."
same guy, sure.
caleb's still the same guy.
he doesn't know better that after he's finally, finally laid his hands on you like this, he'll spiral into something even more worse.
"caleb,"
"mhm?"
"can we... move to your bedroom?" you say softly, eyes tracing the line of caleb's biceps.
his bedroom?
no, anywhere but his bedroom.
caleb gives you a smile, lets out a breath that gives away a laugh. "we can stay here, can't we?" there's no way he'd let you in there. no way he'd let you see the true depths and layers of his feelings for you. the pictures, the posters allover his wall, the collection of pieces he stole from you, even pieces of all the previous people he's killed for you.
caleb inhales the scent of the sweat from your neckline, and he squeezes his eyes shut. "wanna fuck again?"
he won't ever leave you alone again, after this.
when i see you cry, it makes me smile :)
pairing. caleb x afab!reader
synopsis. he's always been a bit sadistic and too obsessively ill with you, and you failed to notice every time.
tags. nsfw, heavy smut, slowburn, plot-based, so much tension, coming-of-age, childhood love, friends to lovers, pseudocest, mutual pining, dacryphilia, obsession, sadistic caleb, resisting and yearning caleb, depraved caleb, emotional reader, crybaby reader, m!masturbating, him doing it to ur pics, fingering, backshots, rough sex, slight manhandling, talking thru it, pacing is slow but worth it!
a/n. i would like to credit paiya443 for giving me this brilliant idea. check her out on tiktok, guys!
wc. 7k
you and caleb grew up in a neighborhood where the afternoons smelled like sun-warmed pavement and fresh laundry, where the trees on your street dipped low enough that caleb could pluck leaves to tuck behind your ear. your families lived door-to-door; yards practically bled into each other. it was the kind of closeness adults called fate and kids never questioned.
and from the very beginning, caleb belonged to you in a way no one ever explained to him.
you were ten when you first cried in front of him. he was twelve, watching your tiny body tremble over a scraped knee you got because you followed him too closely. and something about the sight lodged itself deep inside his ribs â not joy at your pain, but the soft, breathtaking sweetness of you trusting him enough to fall apart in his hands.
he didnât understand it then. he just knew he liked being the one you ran to. he liked the way your small voice cracked when you said his name. he liked that he could fix things for you â band-aids, broken toys, scared little hearts.
back then, it was innocent.
or at least, thatâs what he told himself.
because even as kids, caleb noticed things no normal boy paid attention to. the way your lips wobbled before you cried. the way youâd cling to the sleeve of his shirt like he was a lifeline. the way your eyes always searched for him first â even in a crowd.
and whenever you sobbed and wailed, something warm would bloom in his chest.
something possessive. something dangerous. something that felt like home.
you never noticed his⌠attachment. you were too busy laughing at his jokes, too busy following him around like a little shadow, too busy trusting him with every corner of your vulnerable heart.
caleb â growing too fast for his age â then learned early how to hide the darker edges of himself. he smiled easily, joked carelessly, and protected you fiercely. he pretended to be normal, he pretended the warmth he felt at your tears was just ... affection.
but as you grew older, the warmth sharpened into a thrill.
he never wanted you hurt â never. but whenever you cried, a strange relief washed over him. a soft, selfish comfort. because your tears meant you still needed him. you still came to him. you still trusted him enough to unravel in front of him.
and if you were crying, then caleb was the one close enough to wipe your tears.
people around you said you were like siblings. inseparable, adorable, meant to grow up together.
but caleb knew better.
siblings didnât feel this way. friends didnât look at each other like this.
he learned to control it â the obsession, the dark possessiveness, the urge to keep you close enough to breathe. he hid it in jokes, in teasing smiles, in the soft âyouâre okay, iâve got youâs he gave you each time you trembled.
you never saw the way he watched you. not really. not fully.
because while you saw a best friend, caleb saw the girl heâd spend his life orbiting â quietly, obsessively, lovingly.
he didnât just want to protect you.
he wanted to be the only one youâd ever need.
~
the airplane didnât fall â it plummeted, nosediving off calebâs desk in a tragic, slow-motion arc that you could only watch with widening eyes. the wing hit the floor first, then the tiny propeller, then the rest of it followed with a dull little clack that felt, to you, like the sound of the universe collapsing.
you stood completely still as a ten year old.
your fingers remained frozen in the air, as if you could somehow catch the moment before it broke. but reality blinked back at you in two sad plastic pieces lying on the wooden floor of calebâs room, sunlight gleaming off the fracture line.
your breath wavered.
oh no.
oh no no noâ!
you hadnât meant to touch it. you only wanted to look, maybe admire it up close, maybe imagine the two of you flying it later outside like you always did. but your sleeve brushed the tail, and then your elbow bumped the base, and thenâ
you ruined everything.
your throat tightened painfully. tears pricked instantly, too fast, too hot.
âc-calebâs gonnaâŚâ you whispered to yourself, voice cracking before you even finished the thought.
you crouched down, trembling, as if you could piece the toy back together by staring hard enough at it.
then tears spilled, quick and messy, streaking warm down your cheeks.
the door clicked open behind you.
âpipsqueak? you in hereâ whoa.â
calebâs voice always had that familiar, steady warmth, but right now it broke off mid-sentence. you felt him pause in the doorway.
then his footsteps crossed the room â quick, sure, almost protective.
you squeezed your eyes shut. âiâm sorryâŚâ you whispered before he even reached you. âiâm really, really sorryâ i didnât mean toâ i broke it, i broke your airplaneâŚâ
caleb stopped beside you. you didnât have to look up to know he was staring. you could feel it â that quiet, unreadable focus he had even at twelve, like he always noticed things before anyone else did.
he knelt down, picking up the wing.
âhuh,â he murmured softly, examining the crack. âyou really did a number on it.â
you burst into louder tears at that, tiny shoulders shaking. âiâm sorry! i didnât mean to! please donât be madâ i didnâtâ i shouldnât have touched itââ
âhey, heyâ apples.â his voice dropped, gentle but edged with that boyish firmness he was growing into. he reached out and tapped your wrist lightly. âlook at me.â
you sniffed, rubbing tears from your cheeks, and lifted your gaze slowly...
caleb didnât look mad.
not even annoyed.
in fact⌠he looked almost amused, soft around the edges, like he wanted to chuckle but was trying very hard not to make you cry harder.
âitâs just a toy,â he said quietly. âwhyâre you crying like iâm gonna banish you from the house or something?â
you hiccupped. ââŚyou liked that toy.â
âyeah,â he nodded, lips tugging upward, âbut i like you more.â
your breath hitched â tiny, startled, something warm flashing through your chest.
caleb noticed. caleb always noticed.
he shifted closer, brushing your cheek with the sleeve of his shirt. âyou really thought iâd yell at you?â he asked, lowering his voice like he was coaxing a secret out of you.
you nodded, embarrassed. âyou always take care of your things⌠and i broke oneâŚâ
caleb snorted softly. "pip, youâve seen me crash this thing into the wall at least fifteen times.â
ââŚbut thatâs different.â
âyeah,â he said with a small shrug, ââcause you breaking it is kinda cute.â
âcute?â
âmm hmmm.â he tilted his head, studying your face with that strange, intent softness he carried only for you. âyour nose gets red and your voice gets tiny. you look like a crying dumpling.â
âi donâtâ!â you finally squeaked, mortified, but the tears paused in surprise.
caleb grinned, triumphant.
âsee? you stopped crying already.â he lifted the broken airplane piece. âcome on, i can fix it. but youâre helping.â
you wiped your face again. âhelpingâŚ?â
âyup,â he said, already reaching for the toolbox he kept under his bed. âif you break my stuff, you have to fix it with me. thatâs the rule.â
âw-we never had that rule,â you protested softly.
caleb gave you that smile â the one that always felt like sunlight and trouble. âwe do now.â
he tapped the floor beside him twice.
and while you patched the toy togetherâcaleb holding the wings steady, you sniffling as you pushed pieces back into placeâhe kept doing it. those tiny, stolen glances. the ones he thought you wouldnât notice, the ones he didnât even know he was making. every time your lashes trembled, every time you bit your lip to stop your tears, something warm and frighteningly sweet curled in his chest.
later, he would remember this moment as the first time it truly took rootâwhatever strange, heavy thing was beginning to bloom inside him. an attachment too big for a twelve-year-old boy to understand, too shadowed and sticky to name.
since then, caleb tried to be careful.
he forced himself to walk a step behind you instead of beside you, forced himself to pretend he didnât always feel your gravity tugging him closer like it always had. he told himself he shouldnât hover, shouldnât cling, shouldnât watch you so openlyâbecause what if you got scared? what if you looked at him differently? what if you... pulled away?
but wanting to protect you and wanting to keep you near were braided into the same quiet ache. so he did what he could: he hid it.
as you grew into teenagers, his restraint only sharpened the edges of his obsession.
in sleepovers, on carpets littered with pillows and spilled popcorn, caleb would lie awake long after you drifted offâwatching your chest rise and fall, memorizing every soft, unguarded blink of your dreaming face. he told himself it was harmless, he told himself he just wanted to make sure you were safe in your sleep. but sometimes his breath would hitch, and the room would feel too small and all too intimate.
at school, he became popular without tryingâgood-looking, tall, the kind of boy people gravitated toward. girls slipped love letters into his locker; some waited by the gates to confess, small boxes of chocolates cupped between shaking palms. he always accepted politely, then went home and left the gifts untouched.
because at night, under the dim blue glow of his phone screen, caleb would scroll through your photos insteadâold candid shots you didn't even remember he took, blurry pictures of you frowning at a worksheet, laughing with your head tossed back, or asleep on the couch with your cheek squished against his arm. heâd stare until the ache in his chest grew unbearable, until the need to reach out and touch you almost made him forget his restraint.
and then there was the habit he could never break.
stealing small pieces of you.
a hair tie left on his desk; a pen you forgot to take back; the charm from your backpack that mysteriously âfell off.â he never took anything you would miss too muchâjust little things, tiny artifacts that made his room feel less empty. he kept them in a box beneath his bed, opening it on nights when the distance he forced between you felt like punishment.
he knew it was wrong, or at least strange. he knew he shouldnât. but it was the only way he could feel close to you without frightening you with the truthâthat you had always been his sun, and he had always been orbiting, hopelessly and helplessly, even when he pretended not to.
and oh, how caleb hated it.
not in the dramatic, stomp-your-foot sort of wayâhe wasnât that kind of boy. no, his dislike came in tiny fractures. little cracks behind his smile. soft sighs he pretended were nothing. eyes that lingered too long on scenes he wished he could erase.
because seeing you⌠sitting beside some boy?
laughing with him?
doing that little crinkly-eyed smile you always did when you found something genuinely funny?
it made something in calebâs chest twistâsharp, childish, and a little bit ugly.
he didnât understand the feeling... it wasnât anger. it wasnât sadness. it was something weirdly in-between like trying to hold too much water in cupped hands and watching it spill out anyway.
there was that one p.e. class, one of those sunny afternoons where the gym smelled like rubber soles and chalk, and everyoneâs voices bounced off the high ceiling.
you were doing partner pushups with a boy, palms meeting each time you went up. it was innocent. your teacher had assigned partners and other students were giggling everywhere.
caleb tried to focus on basketball. he really did. he dribbled, shot, caught, repeated. but his eyes kept sneaking overâlike magnets he couldnât pry away.
he watched the boy grin at you.
he watched you grin back.
and he felt⌠weird. hot? itchy? restless? like an entire storm was growing inside his stomach.
without thinkingâliterally without a single thought passing through his brainâhe tossed the ball.
except âtossâ wasnât the right word.
it zoomed.
straight toward the boyâs face.
a loud, cartoonish THWUMP! echoed through the gym. the boy stumbled back, letting out a surprised yelp. you gasped, scrambling to his side.
âah! are you okay?!" your voice was high and worriedâso unlike how you talked to caleb. you never sounded like that with him. you always sounded relaxed, soft, comfortable, familiar.
and caleb hated that you used that voice on someone else.
âsorry!â caleb called out, forcing a sheepish grin. âmy hand slipped!â
it absolutely did not slip.
the teacher scolded him, told him to be more careful. caleb nodded obediently the whole time, face flushed just enough to look apologeticâbut deep down, there was that tiny, secret spark of satisfaction.
because the boy stopped smiling at you after that.
and things only got trickier.
you started finding your own little worldâfriends to eat snacks with, classmates to chat with before homeroom, girls to walk home with. you laughed more, wandered more, lived more.
all good things.
all things that slowly took your attention away from him.
and caleb, who had always been the sun in your orbit, suddenly felt like he was becoming⌠a star in the background.
and he hated that, too.
so he tried to tug your gaze back gentlyânothing scary, nothing dramatic. just⌠nudges. soft things. harmless little games.
like posting new photos online. photos where he looked a little taller than last month, or a little sharper, or a little cooler in that effortless preteen heartthrob way he didnât admit he knew he had.
a half-smile here.
a candid shot with basketball practice sweat on his forehead.
a group selfie where he somehow ended up in the center.
he posted, refreshed, waited.
and when that tiny notification popped upâpipsqueak liked your photoâhe felt lighter and heavier all at once.
~
by the time caleb turned eighteen, the dreams about you had already become routineâfrequent things that threaded themselves into his nights like an extra heartbeat. at first, they startled him. heâd wake up with that strange sense of longing, a kind he didnât know how to name yet, the kind that made him want to keep you close even when the world said he should be letting go.
but over time, he stopped fighting them.
dreaming of you became⌠normal.
expected.
almost comforting, in the same way your childhood scent had beenâthe faint trace of baby powder, crayons, and the warm, sunlit air of long summer afternoons. his dreams followed that same softness, that same familiarity. in the dreams, sometimes he saw you laughing beside him at the park swing. sometimes you were leaning against him during some lazy after-school afternoon. sometimes you were just⌠there, smiling at him in that way you used to when you were ten.
he accepted them all.
took them in like breath.
but thenâ
one friday kinda changed everything?
heâd come home late from basketball practice, shirt clinging to him, muscles sore, hair still damp from a rushed shower. he barely finished dinner before collapsing onto his bed as exhaustion clung to him heavily.
and he fell asleep fast. too fast.
and the dream that came⌠felt different from the start. warm...? near... breath-close... it felt like someone had stepped into his chest, into the hidden, locked-up places he never let anyone touch.
you.
you were in front of him, looking at him in that soft wayâthe way you used to when you were little and he was the only person in the world who could fix the things you broke.
he didnât know who moved firs, maybe you did, maybe he did.
maybe both of you met in the same impossible middle.
but suddenly, your mouth was pressed on his.
a shy press of lipsâsweet, tentative, as if asking him a question.
and he answered before he even realized he had.
his hand slid to your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt as if terrified youâd slip away. his mouth pressed harder against yoursâhungry, desperate, relieved, every suppressed feeling heâd buried since childhood bleeding through that single kiss. he tasted your breath, your warmth, your everything.
and he wanted more.
so much more.
he was almost gasping for air when your lips parted, resting his forehead against yours with eyes shut tight. his fingers wouldn't stop clutching on your hair locks, and then, he dives in again.
"mmh..." he was already pulling you flush against his chest, like he was afraid that you'd let go, and he'd see how scared you were of how desperate he is. caleb pushes you against a wall, lips ghosting over your chin, your jawline... your neck...
he woke up with a violent gasp.
like someone had dumped him into cold water.
he sat upright so fast his head spun, breathing hard, chest heaving. sweat clung to his hair, his shirt, the sheets twisted around his legs like he had fought sleep with his whole body.
for a long moment, he couldnât even breathe right.
your name sat on his tongue like a brand.
and the taste of that dream-kissâimagined but too realâstill burned on his lips.
caleb dragged a shaky hand down his face, exhaling shakily as if trying to push the dream out with each breath.
â...seriously?â he muttered to himself, half-frustrated, half-something else he couldnât admit out loud.
but even with his pulse racing, with embarrassment crawling up his throat, with the weight of want settling unbearably under his skin⌠every time he closed his eyes, he felt it again: your breath brushing his mouth, your lips pressed to his, your waist under his palm like something he had every right to hold.
his body felt too warm, and for some reason his sweatpants felt too tight.
he kicked off his blankets, but the heat stayed.
his face also burned.
he rolled onto his back, then his side, then back again â restless, pulse drumming in his ears. he tried to tell himself it was just a dream... just exhaustion.... just teenage hormones?
he covered his face with one arm, exhaling shakily. ââŚdamn it.â
only then he'd realize that his other calloused hand was already rubbing the hardening bulge underneath the fabrics.
he sank deeper into the pillows, breath catching as the memory of your mouth moved through him again. the warmth pooled low in his stomach, spreading, tightening into the area between his thighs.
his mind kept drifting where it shouldnât.
caleb pulled his boxers down, and the grown size of his manhood springs out, twitching for some kind of release.
he stares at it with half-lidded eyes. wonder how you'd react in seeing how big he is.
no, caleb, don't bring her into this.
even still, he let himself fall into it â into the feeling of you, the fantasy of you, the dream he wanted far too much.
he lay very still afterwards, facing up at the ceiling with his chest rising and falling, with his fingers wrapping around the girth of his length, his mouth ajar, his eyes hiding under his arm.
â...this is bad,â he whispered, voice barely there. âiâm in trouble."
he rolled his head back, chest rising in a long, shaky inhale, but it didnât help. the tension was coiled too deep, wrapped around his ribs, in the way his adam's apple bobbed unevenly. he tried to steady his breathing; instead it came out rough, uneven, almost like a quiet growl.
âgodâŚâ
he stroked himself, slowly, carefully, making sure he had to picture your face in his head.
he shifted against the pillows, jaw tight, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring. his body felt big, restless, almost too heavy for the mattress. he pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, but it did nothing for the feverish warmth rolling through him.
and it was you doing this.
just the thought of you.
he hated how easily you could undo him.
but he loved it too much to stop.
his hips shifted unconsciously â a slow, frustrated twitch he couldnât control â and a low, strangled sound escaped him before he could bite it back.
he squeezed his eyes shut, teeth sinking into his lower lip, breath coming faster now.
he fastened his pace, gripping his own cock tighter with a veiny fist, pumping the length with wanton pleasure.
he felt helpless in a way that made him angry and desperate all at once, like a man fighting against something stronger than him. like wanting you was a force he physically couldnât resist.
he turned his face into the pillow, voice muffled, deeper, rougher than it had ever been in his life.
ââŚbaby.â
saying a pet name he's always wanted to use on you out loud made the heat slam into him even harder. he jerked slightly â a sharp, involuntary reaction he couldnât hide from himself â thighs tightening, shoulders flexing as he sucked in another trembling breath through his teeth.
this was unbearable.
this was addictive.
this was everything he shouldnât be feeling.
and yet â god â he couldnât stop.
his chest rose and fell in uneven waves, sweat beading along his collarbone, his entire body tensed like it was trying to hold itself together. and still, he continued masturbating.
he then reached toward the nightstand, fingers trembling just a little, brushing blindly until they found the cool surface of his phone. he curled his hand around it, grip tight like he needed it to anchor him.
the screen instantly lit up, bathing his face in pale light.
and the moment he swiped it open, he didnât even think.
his thumb moved on its own.
straight to the photo album he shouldnât have labeled with your initial.
straight to the folder he never let anyone see.
he tapped it.
your photo filled the screen.
and then, caleb moaned, stroking himself faster, harder. his hips twitched upward, matching the pace of his fist.
that one picture â the one heâd taken months ago during golden hour, when you were laughing about something he couldnât even remember anymore.
and god.
seeing it nowâ
it made him helplessly horny.
his breath stuttered.
his eyes softened painfully, almost hungrily.
he sank back into the pillows, phone held inches above his face, his thumb resting on the edge of the screen like he was afraid touching the photo itself would burn him.
but somehow⌠looking at your face did more to him than anything else. it lit every nerve on fire. it made his dick harden even more, it made him gasp for air, it made him bite his lip to suck in a groan.
it made him cum.
he exhaled shakily, chest lifting and falling in slow, heavy waves.
his brows knit together, expression tight, almost pained.
he looks at the streaks of cum across his screen, as if he just made a mess on your face. he drops the phone on his chest, arms also dropping to his sides. and all he could do was to get hard again.
~
at twenty-two, the world felt too big for the both of you.
different universities, different fields, different schedules that never lined up right. caleb was off chasing airplanes and flight hours, always with some photo of runways and clouds on his feed; you were buried in training for your own line of work, juggling deadlines and requirements like a circus act.
it wasnât sad, exactlyâjust⌠growing up. the kind that happened quietly, without asking permission.
but every summer, you went home to grandmaâs houseâthe one that smelled like sweet tea and old wood, where the windows were always open and you could hear the neighborhood kids yelling from three streets away. and caleb would always show up, sometimes pretending he just âhappened to pass by,â even though grandma always made too much food on the days he returned.
last year had been your last real summer with him.
and now, today, he was coming home again.
just thinking about it made your chest do a weird, fizzy little flip.
your classroom was glowing with afternoon sunlight, warm and playful, the kind that turned dust particles into tiny floating sparkles. you were wiping down desks with a rag, humming under your breath, moving slowly because your mind was far away.
heâs probably already on the bus... or on his way to grandmaâs?
maybe he already arrivedâshould i hurry home? or not?
you were smiling to yourself without realizing it.
untilâ
âgirl?â
you jolted a little, almost dropping the eraser in your hand.
your friend stood near the doorway, eyebrows raised, a grin tugging at her lips. âyou good? you look like youâre⌠floating.â
âiâm not floating,â you said, though your voice came out very much floaty.
âyou totally are,â she laughed, stepping into the room. âwhatâs got you all smiley and glowy? did something happen?â
you straightened a stack of books just to have something to do with your hands. âno,â you said. ânot really.â
âmm-hmm,â she hummed, clearly not believing a word. âyouâve been cleaning the same desk for five minutes. and smiling at it. is it a magic desk?â
you pouted a little. âdonât tease me.â
âiâm not! iâm just sayingâsomethingâs up.â
you hesitated.
the thing about caleb was⌠he wasnât easy to explain. he wasnât a crush, he wasnât just a friend, he wasnât a stranger either. he was something in-betweenâa familiar warmth from childhood summers, the boy who always stole half your snacks, the one who fixed everything you broke, the one who always came back.
you fiddled with the cloth in your hands and murmured, âitâs just⌠someoneâs coming home today.â
your friendâs grin exploded. âohhhh. someone.â
you puffed your cheeks. âstop it. itâs not like that.â
âsuuuure,â she said, dragging out the word dramatically. âthen why are your ears red?â
âtheyâre notâ!â
âthey are,â she said, poking one.
you swatted her hand away, cheeks warm.
but insideâquietly, secretlyâyou were already imagining it: caleb standing in grandmaâs kitchen, pretending not to wait for you.
grandma calling your name the moment you step inside.
his eyes flicking to you first.
today, he was coming home.
when you finally arrived home, you stood in front of grandmaâs door with your suitcase beside you, still in your uniform, the late-afternoon light brushing gold against the old wood. somehow, even after all the summers youâd come home to this place, today your fingers lingered on the doorknob a little longer.
your heart thumpedânot loud, but quick.
caleb should be here by now...
and that thought made you hesitate, the way you did when you were little and wanted to knock but didnât know if he was on the other side waiting.
finally, you took a tiny breath and pushed the door open.
âiâm homeâŚ?â
your voice echoed softly in the living room.
no answer.
you tucked your shoes away and stepped inside, the familiar scent of citrus cleaner and grandmaâs dried herbs filling your nose. everything was the sameâthe framed photos, the humming electric fan, the worn-out sofa with mismatched pillows.
âgrandmaaa?â you called, wandering further. âwhere are you?â
you peeked into the kitchen.
empty.
you peeked into her room.
still empty.
your footsteps pattered through the house like they always didâlight, curious, a little bouncy. you called for her again, dragging out her name in that childish way you never quite grew out of.
but she was nowhere.
you puffed your cheeks, confused, and made your way to the backyard, sliding open the squeaky screen door.
the first thing you noticed was the hoseâcompletely undone, tangled like a lazy snake scribbled across the ground. the flowers along the garden edge were soaked, dripping little beads of water like theyâd just gotten an unexpected shower.
âgrandmaaa, iâm hoââ
a big, warm hand suddenly slipped over your eyes.
you gasped, freezing on the spot.
before you could say anything, a voice brushed against your earâraspy from travel, deeper than last summer, but undeniably playful.
âguess who?â
your breath hitched.
that voice.
that stupid boy.
your lips twitched upward in a small, involuntary smile. ââŚcaleb?â you murmured, trying not to laugh.
his hand tightened just a littleâlike even in this silly game, he didnât want to let go yet. âmm,â he hummed, and you could hear the grin in his voice, âtook you long enough.â
you peel his hand off your eyes with a tiny huff, ready to scold him for sneaking up on youâ
but then you turn around, and your whole brain just⌠stutters. for some odd reason.
caleb blinks at you, all casual, all unbothered, all unfairly looking like that.
heâs only wearing a white tank top, thin enough that you can see the faint shape of his muscles shifting underneath. it hangs perfectly over the slope of his clavicle, draws a line to the wideness of his shoulders, and his bicepsâoh. yeah. those definitely werenât that big before. or maybe they were and you just werenât paying attention. (you were. you absolutely were.)
his hair is slightly damp, pushed back in a way that looks both messy and⌠weirdly handsome? like he rolled out of some slice-of-life anime where everyone magically looks good doing chores.
âuhâwhy do you look like that?â you blurt out before your brain can stop you.
he quirks a brow, confused. âlike what?â
you wave your hands vaguely at all of him. âlike⌠that.â
he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. âiâve been cleaning since morning. grandmaâs busy with her reunion at the clubhouse. the house was a mess so⌠yyyeah.â
he shrugs, and the movement just makes everything worse. stronger. broader. more defined.
âwow,â you mumble under your breath, âsomeone got manlier.â
âhuh?â
ânothing.â
to distract yourself (and probably to ignore the fact that your heart is beating like a loose tambourine), you grab the watering can beside you. âcome on, help me with the flowers.â
âyes, maâam,â he says, bumping his shoulder lightly into yoursâjust enough to feel that new, annoyingly firm muscle.
you move along the garden bed, tipping the watering can just enough so the soil darkens slowly. caleb stays beside you, his own can bumping lightly against your leg every now and thenâhe swears itâs an accident, but you know better.
âsoâŚâ he starts, voice soft and a little curious, âhowâve you been? itâs been a while since i saw you this close.â
you brighten a little at the question, because finallyâsomeone to talk to. âoh! iâve been fine, actually. better than last month.â
and once you begin, you⌠donât stop.
you tell him about the weird stray cat that tried to follow you home, the new project youâve been working on, the random thing you learned online at 2 a.m., the neighbor who sings too loudly in the morning, the sweet snack youâve been obsessed with latelyâjust a whole collection of things that have been floating in your mind.
and caleb just listens, really listens.
he keeps his eyes on you the whole time, the soft kind of staring that doesnât feel heavyâjust warm. every now and then he nods, or breathes out a quiet laugh, or tilts his head like heâs storing every word for later. and somehow, his attention makes your talking even worse. even faster. even louder.
ââand then the lady told me i looked too young to be buying that, which is insane because iâm literallyââ
âyou do look young,â he cuts in, lips twitching.
you gasp. âexcuse me?â
âsorry,â he shrugs, though heâs obviously not sorry at all. âbaby-faced rather.â
âoh, shut up. youâre just jealous i donât look like a stressed office worker.â
âhey,â he says, feigning offense, âi think i look very youthful.â
you make a face. âyou look like someoneâs dad.â
caleb smacks water at your shoe with his watering can. âtake that back.â
ânope.â
âfine.â he leans a little closer, lowering his voice dramatically. âjust rememberâkarma comes quickly.â
âwhat are you gonna do? water me?â
âdonât tempt me.â
you dodge behind the hibiscus plant like a child, laughing. he follows, shaking his head but smiling that soft, helpless smile that only shows up when heâs with you.
the next, caleb flicks a bit of water at your arm, you shriek dramatically, and suddenly itâs war.
âoh, youâre dead!!â
âcome here then,â caleb grins, eyes narrowing like a cat spotting easy prey.
ânope nope nopeâ!!â
you bolt.
like actual children, you sprint straight into the house, socks sliding on the floor, heart thudding from equal parts adrenaline and laughter. behind you, caleb barrels in with none of the grace a future pilot should have.
âget back here!!â
âno!! why would i do that?!â
âbecause i said so!â
âthatâs not a reasonâ!â
your giggles echo through the hallway as you turn every corner too fast, nearly tripping over a rug. calebâs footsteps are louder, heavier, like heâs purposely stomping just to scare you. the two of you are basically reenacting tom and jerryâexcept much louder and much dumber.
you duck behind the dining table. caleb circles the other side. both of you stare each other down.
ââŚhi,â you say.
âmove,â he warns.
âno.â
âfine.â
he lunges.
you yelp, turn, and run for the living room. heâs faster. way faster. you barely make it past the couch whenâ
âgot you!â
caleb grabs your waist from behind and the momentum takes both of you down onto the couch cushions. you let out the most unflattering squeak as he catches your wrists mid-flail, pinning them above your head before you can escape again.
both of you are pantingâhalf from running, half from laughing too hard. your chest rises and falls quickly, and calebâs breath brushes your cheek, warm and uneven.
your laughter fades first.
his fades after.
and then the silence slips in, soft and heavy.
you blink up at him.
he blinks down at you.
his hands are still around your wrists. his body leans over you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his skin. the white tank top isnât helpingâbroad shoulders, defined arms, everything just there and very hard to ignore.
caleb swallows, jaw tightening just a little.
ââŚcaught you,â
caleb stays still for a long moment, his eyes fixed on you, and for once, the world narrows down to nothing but your face, your hair falling slightly over your cheeks, the way the sunlight hits the curve of your jaw.
and thenâit all crashes back. every quiet feeling heâd tucked away since you were kids, every stolen glance, every moment of watching you sleep, every tiny obsession heâd convinced himself was harmless⌠it comes rushing forward like a flood he canât hold back.
he swallows hard, throat tight, and his chest feels like itâs too full, too fast. heâs leaning over you, feeling your warmth, the softness of your hands under his, your uniform riding up slightly as you shift, and itâs almost unbearable how⌠beautiful you look. how impossibly youâve grown, how much you still belong in his orbit.
but then, just like that, the moment snaps. his lips twitch into a small, almost mischievous snort, like heâs breaking the tension with the smallest, most human excuse he can find.
âugh,â he mutters, brushing back his damp hair, finally getting off of you. âi need to change my clothes. this tank top is sticking to me like glue.â
he stands, trying to keep his voice light, playful, like everything is normal again. like the sudden surge of everything buried in his chest doesnât exist.
you blink up at him, unsure if the air between you is just heavy from running or from⌠him.
~
summer slips by the way it always does with him.
one monday, youâre wobbling carts through the grocery store with caleb, arguing over which apples are âpie materialâ and which ones are âjust posing as apples.â he flicks your forehead when you pick the wrong brand of flour. you shove him into the cereal aisle, and the employees would stare, but he just grins.
then youâre both in the kitchen, elbows touching, sugar dusting the counter, caleb peeling apples with that stupid smug look because his slices are âmore aesthetic.â you roll your eyes but let him win. he always wins.
another day, youâre sitting cross-legged on his carpet, controllers in hand, yelling at him for cheating.
âyou literally walked off the map,â he accuses.
âyou distracted me with your commentary!â
he laughs so loud you almost throw your controller at him.
and then the fairâcotton candy fingers, grandma holding both your hands while she drags you into photobooths. caleb presses his cheek against yours in one of the pictures, claiming itâs âfor comedic effect,â but he keeps that strip of photos in his wallet later.
itâs all small things, tiny pockets of happiness. the kind that feel like childhood with just a hint of something else underneath.
then one saturday night, with summer already slipping through your fingers, you stand at the doorway of grandmaâs bedroom and watch caleb help her with her medicine. heâs gentle, patient in a way he never is with anyone else. he brushes a stray hair from her forehead, telling her, âcâmon, grandma. you promised youâd take it without making that face.â
and she triesâshe really triesânot to make that face.
you smile quietly, but it aches in your chest. because itâs almost over again.
so you slip away, leaving them to their soft laughter, and you walk down the hall toward caleb's bedroom.
his door is half-open with the lights warm. his room smells like pine-scented laundry, a little cologne, and something distinctly caleb.
you step inside, slow, hesitant. your fingers graze his desk, the edge of his bookshelf, the jacket tossed carelessly over a chair.
youâre just⌠taking him in.
the way he exists in this space.
the way this room feels like him.
the way being here feels like the summer you wish would stay just a little longer.
you sit on the edge of his bed, sinking into the sheets that still hold the shape of the boy you grew up with, the one who somehow became the person you look for in every room.
and for a moment, alone in the soft quiet of calebâs bedroom, you let yourself feel itâ
that tiny, childlike longing.
that wish that summer didnât have to end.
that wish that he didnât have to go for another year again.
you kneel on the wooden floor, palms warming against the boards as you lean forward, squinting at the little shadow jutting out from beneath calebâs bed.
a black box.
sticking out just enough to be suspicious.
you blink.
tilt your head.
you shouldnât.
you really, really shouldnât.
but curiosity has always been your fatal flawâcaleb said that once, teasing you as you tried to solve a puzzle he purposely made too hard.
so you swallow, reach out, and tug the box toward you. it scrapes softly against the floor, heavier than you expect. you hesitate, fingers hovering over the lid.
this feels like trespassing.
like peeking into a part of him he would never show you on purpose.
but thenâthe lid lifts.
and your breath stops.
insideâŚ
is you.
everywhere.
your mind blanks for a moment, then comes rushing back too fast.
right at the top: a bundle of ballpens you thought youâd lost in elementary school. the blue one with the star sticker you swore someone stole.
and beneath itâ
your old handkerchief, folded neatly, the one you dropped at the playground when you were twelve.
your brows knit, confusion rising.
whatâ
you dig deeper.
and your stomach flips.
there, tied gently with a small ribbon, is a clipping of hairâyour hairâcut cleanly from the time youâd trimmed your bangs at his house and swept everything carelessly into the trash.
your hands tremble.
your breath feels too loud in this quiet room.
printed photos of you followâsome candid, some clearly zoomed in from afar. little notes scribbled around the edges in his uneven handwriting;
mine
she smiled today.
donât let anyone else see this.
your pulse stutters.
and then you see it.
tucked in the corner.
soft fabric you immediately recognize.
your ... underwear.
one you lost at a sleepover years ago. youâd laughed it off, thinking maybe grandma misplaced the laundry.
but itâs here.
folded.
kept.
you flinch, heart hammering so hard you can feel it in your fingertips.
your mind shatters into a dozen frantic thoughts all at once.
since when? why? how long has this been here?
you canât breathe. you canât think straight. you stare at the contents of the box â the pens, the handkerchiefs, the hair ribbon you thought you lost in middle school, the printed photos, the little notes scribbled along the edges.
pieces of you. pieces he kept. pieces he collected.
is this⌠really caleb? your caleb? the boy who teased you, protected you, grew up with you?
you replay every memory you can grab onto â his laughs, his scoldings, his shoulder bumping yours, the way he always appeared when you were sad, the warmth in his voice when he said your name.
none of it ever hinted at⌠this.
or maybe⌠maybe you simply never looked close enough.
your breathing starts to shake. your hands press against the floor, palms clammy.
if he walks in nowâif he sees you kneeling here with this box wide openâwhat would he do?
your heartbeat feels like itâs crashing against your ribs. your thoughts spiral so fast they blur into noise. what do you say? what do you do? what is he going to think? what is he going to do?
panic rises like a wave.
youâve always been like this â whenever the world becomes too big, too loud, too confusing, your eyes sting before anything else.
and now, tears start gathering at the corners of your vision. you blink them back, but they only spill faster.
âpips?â
caleb's voice drifted from the hallway in that familiar, warm way he always calls you when he comes home, like heâs expecting you to peek your head out with a smile.
but his footsteps stop.
silence folds into the doorway, sharp and sudden. you freeze before you even look back â some instinct curling tight in your chest.
you turn anyway.
caleb stands there, half-shadowed by the hall light, one hand loosely gripping the doorframe. at first glance he looks like himself â tall, composed, that calm gentleness heâs worn like a second skin since childhood.
but then his expression shifts.
quietly, subtly, and... devastatingly.
the softness drains out of his face when his gaze drops to the box beside you.
and the world seems to still.
you feel your throat tighten, breath hitching around the panic rising up like a tide you canât hold back. your fingers shake when you try to close the lid, as if that could undo what youâve seen.
âc-caleb,â you whisper, your voice splintering. âi⌠iâm sorry. i didnât mean toâ i shouldnât haveâ it just⌠fell out and i⌠iâm really, really sorryââ
the apology collapses into itself. your words tangle, trip, dissolve. tears prick hard at your eyes, and once they start, they wonât stop â youâre crying before you can even think to control it.
you bow your head, covering your eyes with a trembling hand.
âiâm sorry,â you whisper again, smaller. âplease donât get madâŚâ
for a moment, caleb doesnât move. not an inch.
and thatâs somehow worse.
his eyes stay trained on your face, or more specifically, on the tears streaking down your cheeks. thereâs a tension in him, a razor-thin stillness, like heâs remembering something old and buried.
and then it comes. the smile.
slow and wrong.
it isnât the boyish, familiar grin heâs shown you your whole life. itâs something quieter, curved at the edges with an eerie sort of fondness. a shadowed tenderness. a chill disguised as warmth.
something double-edged, like a gemini splitting into two halves before your eyes.
one caleb softens at your sorrow.
the other⌠savors it.
the memory hits him, and you can see it flicker across his face. that day years ago when you cried over his broken toy airplane, hiccuping apologies through your tiny hands while he knelt in front of you, both amused and captivated.
he remembers how small you looked, how helpless, how easy it was to hold you together.
and now?
now youâre twenty-two, trembling on his bedroom floor, tears falling in the same pattern, the same rhythm. and calebâ
caleb drinks in the sight.
his smile deepens by a fraction, just enough to reveal the truth beneath it: possessive and unsettlingly pleased, something that has clearly been growing in the dark all these years, fed by every moment you broke down in front of him.
he steps forward once unhurriedly, ââŚbaby,â he murmurs, almost tenderly. âyouâre crying again.â
you flinch at him, caught completely off guard. his expression⌠it isnât the caleb youâve known your whole life. not quite. it makes the air in the room press in on you, and for a moment, you stop crying, unsure whether to feel relief or dread.
âyou know,â he murmurs like heâs teasing a thought out of you slowly, âiâve been waiting a long time for you to⌠see me properly. to know just how⌠depraved i am⌠about you.â
your hand flies to your face, wiping tears quickly, frowning. ââŚw-what? how⌠why⌠whenâŚ?â
caleb exhales softly through his nose, a faint chuckle curling at the edge of it, and leans just a fraction closer. âiâve always been like this,â he says calmly, almost casual. âi just⌠learned how to hide it and study how to keep it safe⌠and just for you.â
then he reaches out, hand brushing your cheek with gentle precision. instinctively, you flinch under his touch, and he notices immediately.
âoh?â he teases softly, leaning a little closer, voice dipping low and intimate. âscared of me now, huh?â
in calebâs mind, a storm raged quietly, controlled only by the years of practice he had spent masking it behind jokes, mischief. he had trained himself to appear harmless, easygoing, the caleb you knew and trusted since childhood. it was a careful performance, a shield he wrapped around the darker edges of himself so you would never see the full weight of his obsession.
and yet, right now, the performance threatened to crumble.
he felt the tug of restraint, the voice inside whispering that he should stop, that he should step back, apologize, tell you he didnât mean to frighten you. because the last thing he ever wanted was for you to be scared of him. not you. not ever.
but then he looked at you.
looked at the soft curve of your tear-streaked cheeks, the way your lashes trembled, the small catch in your throat as you tried to steady yourself. the way your lips quivered, pleading silently for forgiveness.
and everything he had buried â the longing, the possessiveness, the aching need to protect you and own every fragment of your vulnerability â exploded.
he could feel it spilling over the careful lines he had drawn around himself. his smile twitched, tinged with something that felt like both awe and hunger. his hand twitched in the air, wanting to brush your cheek again, to touch, to tether, to reassure, to claim just a fraction of the fragility you were showing him.
a part of him screamed to stop, to let you step back, to let you run from this intensity.
but another part whispered too loud, too insistent: no. donât stop. keep going.
and so he stayed, watching you carefully, savoring the vulnerability you hadnât meant to show him. every shiver, every hiccup of breath, every glittering tear that caught the light⌠it was like electricity under his skin, something he couldnât, wouldnât, hide.
âyouâre so⌠fragile,â he murmurs, âalways trembling when i look at you. always⌠like this.â
he tilts his head, studying you. the duality is there; the big brother smile that makes your heart ache, and beneath it, something darker; a grin that delights in the power he has over you.
you lift your hands, wiping at your cheeks, trying to reclaim yourself once more.
âstop trying to hide from me,â he whispers, almost a growl beneath the surface, a sound that should be playful but feels weighted. âyou think you can erase this, hm? this face? itâs mine to see.â
your breath catches, and before you can answer, he closes the tiny distance between you. not abruptly â slow, intentional, teasing â his lips brushing yours in a touch thatâs soft, yet desperate. itâs a kiss that speaks of obsession, of years of secret longing, of power and possession, all tangled together.
he lingers just enough for you to feel the way he kisses you, lips moving against your own. and when he pulls back ever so slightly, just to look at your reaction, his grin curves sharper, almost sadistic.
âsee?â he murmurs, voice low and taunting. âiâve wanted this for so long⌠and now youâre finally here, just like this, just for me.â
he tilts his head, letting just the hint of a smirk play at the corners of his mouth, as if heâs daring you to do something.
âcome on,â he murmurs softly, but carrying that edge of impatience only he can wear. âyouâre not going to just sit there, are you?â
your heart skips. your hands fumble, and he notices, of course. he shifts, one hand sliding gently above your wrist, not gripping, but holding just enough to keep you there. the other balances him against the floor, fingers splayed and steady.
he presses again, brushing his lips against yours with a rhythm thatâs like heâs testing boundaries you didnât know existed. itâs the kind of kiss that makes your mind spin: tender in one moment, provocatively bold the next, all while his eyes glitter, studying your reaction like a puzzle heâs determined to solve.
âsee?â he whispers between soft presses, tilting his head closer. âi know you want to, pipsqueak⌠just a little. i can tell.â
you whimper softly, and itâs enough to make caleb pause, just for a heartbeat, before his grin curls sharper.
âthere it is,â he teased, as if heâs discovered a secret treasure. âthat little sound⌠thatâs all i need to know.â
before you can protest, before your mind even has the chance to catch up, heâs lifting you effortlessly, cradling you against him as if you weigh nothing at all. your body instinctively stiffens, heart hammering, but calebâs hands are firm enough to hold your thighs.
he carries you to the bed, laying you gently on the comforters. the softness swallows you, a cocoon, yet caleb leans over, pressing close, lips meeting yours again, depraved and passionate.
your eyes shut, trying to catch up with his pace, but you could only grunt.
âshh,â he whispers, tilting his head just enough to catch your gaze, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from your temple. âlook at me. itâs okay⌠youâre okay.â
but the teasing lingers in his tone, âyou sound so helpless when you do thatâ he chuckles, âi could listen to it all day..."
"shut up, calebâ"
"are you enjoying?"
you can feel your heart thundering in your chestâembarrassed, and nervous, butâŚthe way heâs been speaking and acting also has arousal pooling between your legs, even though you aren't quite sure of what exactly is this wet feeling yet.
"i..."
âhmm? what was that?â his fingers lightly coast up the skin on your face, and the sensitivity of it has you gasping quite loudly.
you attempt to escape his touch (despite your instincts, which are currently screaming at you to let him continue, because god it feels somewhat... good), but caleb isnât letting you go anywhere. with himself above you, youâre stuck. thereâs no way you can beat him in a game of strength.
âw-what do you think i want?â you manage to respond, mustering up a bit of courage. itâs not in your nature to just let someone, especially caleb, talk to you like that without fighting back. caleb, however, is blunt with his rebuttal.
"i think you want more than just a kiss, apples. i think you'd love to see how far we can both go, right? am i wrong?"
your breathing has picked up now, fanning in hot puffs between your bodies. each of his words causes sinful scenarios to bloom within your mindâand you feel your down there clench around nothingâhot, and aching to be filled.
yeah, you grew up uninfluenced, but that doesn't mean you haven't went through nights of masturbating, watching or listening to something from your phone because caleb was too far away, in all ways.
âbut⌠if iâm wrong about you, then say the word and iâll stop,â he murmurs. âi will.â
yet you donât say it. you canât. you want him to keep going, painfully, shamefully so.
without missing a beat, you finally close the space between you, pressing your lips to his with desperate urgency, hands moving to cup his face. and then, just like that, he pushes back, shoving you onto the sheets beneath you with a controlled force.
âif you want more,â he says, eyes dark with mischief, âyouâre going to have to say it.â
"please let's do it," you respond, breathless. caleb leans in, your lips nearly touching, and he looks you in the eye.
âsay it right, because if itâs not good enough⌠donât expect me to give you anything.â
âiâŚâ your throat feels parched, words caught somewhere between your racing thoughts and the ache curling through you. youâve never needed thisâneeded himâso badly before. and if caleb doesnât give in⌠youâre not sure how much longer you can hold yourself together.
âi wantâ,â your words are cut off as a gasp involuntarily escapes your mouth. caleb's other hand has found its way between your legs, two long fingers rubbing between your soaking folds.
âd-didnât you just say i wouldnât get anything?â you stammer, thighs tightening instinctively, betraying how horny you've gotten. caleb raises an eyebrow, that infuriating, crooked grin tugging at his lips.
"does this really count as anything?"
his fingers tease at your entrance, barely dipping into your pussy. even if you think of grinding down to force him deeper, his hold on you prevents you from doing soâand you whine as he pulls his fingers awayâsimply continuing to tease your womanhood while neither touching your clit nor pushing his digits inside of you.
âi would suggest saying whatâs on your mind, squirt. you shouldnât be acting like this when i havenât even done things.â
âi-inside me,â
"hmm?"
"i want you inside," you say, starting off innocently enough. youâve never verbally been lewd beforeâthe idea of telling caleb what you want him to do to you while he's literally hovering right there above you is a bit terrifyingâbut you know if you donât start somewhere, youâll never get what you want.
âi... i want you to fill every inch of me, i've been wanting it for so long.â you get braver with every word, and when you feel caleb's cock strain against your stomach, trapped in the tight space between your bodies, a wave of satisfaction emboldens you.
you take a shaky breath, finally letting the words tumble out, eyes fixed on him, and whisper, âi⌠iâve been thinking about you for so long, caleb, longer than i even realized. every little thing you do, every look, every word⌠iâve felt it, this pull toward you. iâve wanted you, more than i knew how to say, and iâve been yearning⌠for you, for all this time, without even understanding it myself⌠until now.â
caleb's breathing is a bit gruffer nowâhis face burying against your shoulder as his hand drops away, coming to momentarily rest near your hip. you feel his hand sneaking beneath the hem of your top and dragging upward, with goosebumps rising on your skin. your confidence momentarily faltersâa hot wave of arousal jumbling your thoughtsâbut you continue.
"s-sometimes, i wonder... how would it feel to do the things people do in adult stuff with you. if you would like it if i gave you a blowjobâ"
without warning, he bites down on your skinâtwo of his fingers slipping inside of your pussy at the same time. a breathless whine escapes you, pain and pleasure mingling, and when you attempt to grind your hips down on his hand, he nips at you again.
âmaybe it wouldnât be so bad,â he murmurs against your skin, voice warm and taunting, âif i could put a tag on you. just so everyone knows youâre with me. youâd like that, wouldnât you?â
you open your mouth to respond, but he doesnât give you the chanceâhis lips moving to capture your own as his digits thrust between your walls. his tongue forces its way into your mouth, swallowing the moans that rip from your throatâhis pace ruthless as he fingers fuck you. but he knows itâs what you want, your pussy positively drenched for him, lewd sounds permeating the room with each flick of his wrist.
his other hand finds your breast, squeezing the soft flesh roughly and causing you to whine. caleb's touches are sure to leave you sore and bruised, but the idea of having marks to remind you of this moment for days to come is undeniably appealing.
âcâcaleb,â you gasp, your knees beginning to buckle. youâre already racing towards your climax, his fingers pressing into your sweet spot with every jab.
âare you already going to cum?â he asks, placing an open-mouthed kiss against your jaw. your head is spinning, but you manage to nod.
âmmm... should i let you cum?â
âplease.â your voice is raw with desperation, head pressing back against the sheets as the dam holding your orgasm at bay threatens to collapse. weakly, your hand raises to grab caleb's armâyour fingernails digging into his skin.
he smiles, lips pursing together, eyes following the motions of your head. "cum then."
and you doâmouth opening into a silent scream as you release around his fingers. he pumps you through it, pace slowing to drag out the waves of pleasure. and finally, once youâre able to breathe again, he pulls his hand from between your thighs.
you watch him bring his soaking digits on his lips, smearing your own juices against his tongue. itâs an embarrassing realizationâthat you had drenched his hand with your arousalâand his action only burns you up even more.
but caleb maintains eye-contact as he does, before bringing the very same fingers towards your mouth, urging you to lick his saliva off.
for a moment, you take your time getting caught off guard, staring up at caleb, your caleb, ontop of you. the boy you used to climb on trees with, eat crayons with, chased frogs on the streets with.
you lean forward to suck on his fingertips, tongue lapping up the length.
âdonât regret what you said earlier about letting me use you,â he whispers into your ear, and within seconds, you find yourself tossed around onto the soft sheets, flipped onto your stomach.
thereâs movement on the mattress behind you, and then calebâs hands are reaching forward to grab your hips. he forces you onto your kneesâdragging your ass backwardsâand without warning, something quite large shoves between your walls.
âmm--!â you bite your lip, fingers grasping at the sheets as caleb begins chasing his own release. his hips smack against your ass, rattling the bedframe with each movement, and despite yourself, pleasure begins building in your gut once more.
"oh, yeah... i was right." caleb speaks, voice all breathless and raspy. "you were as tight as i've been imaginingâno, more tightâmuch, much tighterâ!"
you whine at his words, thighs shaking as the intensity of his love-making begins to overwhelm you. if it werenât for caleb's grip on your hips, youâd be slack against the sheetsâtwitching, and taking a much-needed breather.
but this isnât about you. right now, itâs about him, and you both know it. it's his turn to do whatever he wants. it's the least you can give him, considering heâd already let you cum, right?
âcum again?â he asks, and you shake your head no. he chuckles, one of his hands reaching around to toy with your clit. the act immediately has you crying outâpussy tightening around him and forcing a grunt from his throat.
"let's see about that, huh?"
the next few minutes are a blurâyour mind spiraling into incoherency as caleb's dick stretches and fills you in all the right ways. with his fingers rubbing circles at your clit, youâre brought back to the brink of orgasm quicker than youâd imaginedâthe pleasure beginning to tip into overstimulation.
âplease please please please,â you chant, forcing yourself to clench around him. caleb groans, retaliating with a brutal thrust that has tears pricking at your eyes. youâre not sure if you want to cum, or simply want him to cum so you can finally catch your breath.
âfuck,â he curses, beginning to fall apart around the edges. his fingers work at your clit even faster than before, and you choke on a cryâattempting to pull your hips awayâbut he doesnât let you.
with a guttural moan tearing from your throat, he forces another orgasm from your spent body. you go limpâany remaining strength fading from your limbs, and caleb drags you back onto his cock a few more times before his pace falters, and he finds his bliss as well.
instantly, caleb plops down beside you, trying to chase his own breath. and when he steals a glance from you, he takes a double look.
"hey, hey, did you just cry?"
you're too worn out to answer, but you're sure you probably did. from how hard and rough he was fucking you.
your vision is starting to blur, and the last thing you see before blacking out is caleb's smile.
"you know, when you're like this, all teary-eyed and fragile, it makes me smile."
cw: pure smut !
two years into a relationship with zayne, you've practically grown fluent to his language of love, most of the time reaching extents you wouldn't even believe yourself he'd have the will to do - spanking you with a paddle everytime you poke him too much, tying your hands together to overstimulate your clit until you're basically seeing stars, covering your thigh in nothing but hickeys - the ones that aren't wrapped in pretty words, but always arrive, somehow.
âtil now, youâre trying, with every ounce of practiced composure, not to break in front of your family. itâs nothing new, really. these dinners have always been a thing, ever since you were kids. your parents, zayneâs, and calebâs have always been all tightly knit, bound by years of friendship, tradition, and shared holidays that turned into rituals. so of course, the three of you grew up side by side, tangled in the same photo albums and family vacation stories.
speaking of caleb, heâs been different ever since you got together with zayne. he used to be the best kind of gege, always one step ahead of what you needed before you even asked. the kind whoâd walk you home even when you insisted you were fine, who knew your favorite takeout order by heart, who never forgot your exam dates or bad days.
but ever since you've decided to choose zayne? he barely looks at you, he barely speaks. and when he does, it comes out as merely for the sake of being polite, like youâre just another guest at his parentsâ table, like you're just a family friend all this time.
you donât say anything, though it eats at the edges of your mind. you try not to let it show, because zayne is your priority now. he's your person, and if caleb has chosen distance, then maybe itâs only fair you learn to stop reaching.
even when you're right here, sat between them.
but anyway, going back! you might be wondering as to why you're trying your very best not to unravel your composure - well, it's because your boyfriend, zayne, have decided to show you another bizarre method of affection tonight.
youâre trying to focus on your plate, really, you are. but zayneâs hand is warm and maddening where it lingers beneath the table, fingers grazing slow, lazy circles against your inner thigh like he has all the time in the world and none of the shame. your fork pauses halfway to your mouth when â-so, howâs school been treating you lately?â one of your aunts asks, eyes fixed on you like sheâs waiting to read between your words.
you swallow the food, the fluster, the heat crawling up your neck, and force a smile. âitâs been⌠good,â you manage, voice just a little too high, a little too bright. âbusy, but manageable!â zayneâs fingers teasingly make their way upper, specifically just about where your pussy's throbbing under the fabric of your panty! a silent dare. this makes you shift in your seat with a low, imperceptible "hmn-" as you press your thighs tigher.
and when your aunt leans in to ask you once more, right while zayne's fingers are working you up, caleb looks up. his lashes lift lazily, gaze dragging across the table like smoke and landing on you, almost bored, if not for the way his jaw ticks the moment he catches that look on your face. his eyes stay on you for a heartbeat too long, burning with the kind of quiet clarity that says he's seeing more than that.
and then, like heâs decided you're not his business anymore, he looks away. he picks up his glass, takes a sip, with lips brushing the rim like he has all the time in the world too. maybe you should be more careful of what you show to your gege...
but even still, this goes unnoticed by zayne. your boyfriend presses just a bit harder, enough to remind you heâs there, that he owns the heat blooming across your skin, and when he brings his drink to his lips, he lets two fingers glide along your folds in an absentminded motion, a lazy swirl. âmm? stocks are dropping again,â he says breezily to one of your uncles, âbut nothing too fatal, not if you know where to look.â
he increases the pace faster, and you nearly choke on your food. your aunt doesnât seem to notice. âyou alright, sweetheart?â she asks, peering at you.
you clear your throat, forcing a polite smile. ây-yeah, just⌠the rice went down wrong.â zayne just keeps talking like he isnât setting your libido on fire, dropping little dry jokes here and there that make the table laugh, as if his hand isn't currently misbehaving under the linen cloth, as if his fingers aren't the reason why you're technically dripping wet now.
his knee bumps yours, and then he tilts his head, finally glancing your way mid-sentence. a flick of his eyes, and just like that, heâs back to his conversation - so damn good at acting clueless you almost believed it yourself.
you shouldn't be this breathless and pink-faced, not when you're seated this primly, not when you're infront of the food and a family. you really try to focus on your plate, on chewing your food - but the fingers pressing into your sex are not making it easy. it's warm, and it feels too good.
and it's moving.
you steal a glance sideways, and thereâs zayne, all charmingly stoic but casual, both hands on the table now. one's holding a fork, the other's wrapped around his glass as he lifts it to his lips like a little prince.
wait. wait, both hands? then who's - ?
you see it when you look down. the hand, tucked beneath the linen drape of the tablecloth, fingers resting between your thighs. and itâs not zayneâs. your gaze lingers, the world narrowing to a blur around the details: the familiar curve of his knuckles, the telltale silver ring on his index finger, and the loose leather bracelet wrapped twice around his wrist - the one calebâs worn since forever.
you know that hand.
your head tilts up slowly, carefully, like youâre afraid looking too fast will snap something in you. and there he is, caleb, listening to your uncle talk about land prices, like he's just another dinner guest, like his hand isnât up your skirt. his lips twitch, not quite a smile, just the faintest curve - as if heâs so interested in the conversation. he then swirled his fingers inside you, almost tender. his touch lingered along the entrance, then slipped deeper, tracing the curve with lazy circles.
you grab his wrist, but you weren't sure whether you were dragging his hand away or pushing it deeper. maybe the answer could be seen in the way your thighs are parting. "kudos to the chef tonight, the steak's cooked so well!" one of the uncles suddenly beamed, and caleb smiled boyishly in response. "mhm, i like it soft and juicy, i'm glad you do too."
then, he pushes two fingers in until the tips are practically brushing against your g-spot, curling his fingers for a bit, before pistoning them inside you in lightspeed. "ah!" you accidentally moan, gripping the edge of the table. now everyone in the table had their eyes on you, including your boyfriend, who's now placing his hand back on your thigh, tracing slow circles along the skin, as if to soothe you. your breath caught. caleb looks at you worriedly, "you okay, pipsqueak?" that's the first time in two years he's used that nickname on you. but that's not what's important right now!
"s-sorry, i bit my tongue..."
"silly girl," your mother said, earning a few chuckles from the table as they go back into their rhythm like nothing fucking happened. you swallow, trying to chase your breathing when your gege does it again - he squishes his fingers into your sex with a squelch and pulls out and pushes in and pulls out again! and, all the while feeling zayne's hand gripping around your thigh that it might leave a red mark!
gods, help you. it was almost as if zayne was telling you to keep it low and let caleb take his time with you.
all of a sudden, the phone in your pocket vibrates against your hip. your breath instantly faltered, slowly taking it out with trembling fingers, and they trembled even more after reading the notification on your lock screen.
"my bedroom later ;)"
you shuddered, glancing and peering at caleb beside you. he had his phone on his other hand.
then, another notif.
"yes, ur boyfriend's gonna come too."
n. yes, there will be a part 2 !
blizzard? i hardly know her
pairing. afab!fem reader x CALEB (modern college au)
tags. fluff, nsfw, smut, mature content, cheesy romance, forced proximity, slowburn, unestablished relationship, plot-based, tension, so much tension, accidental sleepover, zayne & caleb are sibs with a mum, eventual smut, oral, t!tplay, f!ngering, penetration, missionary, slight manhandling, 18+
synopsis. what happens when you get stuck inside your crush's house?
wc. 6.9k (lmao)
crunch. crunch. crunch.
the frosty snow lies thick beneath your boots, making a satisfying crunch with every heavy step you take. your thick fur boots keep you warm as you wander up the quiet street, heading toward the center of town. each house you pass is decked out in bright, cheerful christmas lights, shimmering merrily. itâs still early, just 2 oâclock, but it feels like the entire town is already wrapped in the christmas spirit.
well, it is the 22nd of december. with only three days left until the long-awaited 25th, itâs no surprise that festive excitement lingers in the air.
ah, winter. the season that always felt like magic. your favorite time of the year. but this time, something was different. this time, you were actually doing something bold.
you held the small, carefully wrapped package tighter between your gloves, heart pounding as you took in the cold air. you knew exactly where you were headed and who it was for.
caleb.
he was the kind of guy every girl dreamed about; smart, charismatic, manly, athletic, and ridiculously good-looking. a bit older than you. you'd been lowkey obsessed with him for half a year. yes, you kept track.
you wanted to talk to him so many times, but every chance slipped past. you didnât have the guts. you had no idea how to even start a convo with a guy you liked. were you supposed to act casual? or make it obvious? how do people even do this?
the funny part? caleb and you had never even spoken. not once. you were practically strangers. but he was popular, the kind of guy people naturally gravitated toward. everyone liked him. which meant if you didnât make a move soon, someone else definitely would.
so yeah, you needed to act. fast.
and somehow, through sheer force of will and probably a touch of delusion, you came up with a plan: give him a christmas gift. nothing huge. just something small... and anonymous. no pressure, just a gesture.
luckily, you knew something most people didnât. calebâs family owned that cozy little bakery down the street. they lived right above it, in the apartment on the second floor. which made things easy since there was a letterbox right next to the bakery door. accessible and just perfect. the plan was really simple: drop off the gift, then vanish. just you, taking a tiny step closer to the boy you couldnât stop thinking about.
your stomach started doing that weird twisty thing again the closer you got to calebâs bakery. the street was quiet, but the snow was beginning to fall faster now, tiny flurries brushing your cheeks, clinging to your coat. you picked up the pace. if you dropped the gift off fast enough, you could make it home before the snow really picked up.
except... you didnât. because just as you stopped in front of the bakery, frozen and staring at the familiar brick facade, you heard a faint voice that sounded like it was calling for somebody.
your heart practically jumped out of your chest. you spun around, eyes wide. there was no one around. but the snow had gotten worse. way worse. you could barely see down the road now. great. just great.
you were such an idiot. there had been blizzard warnings all week. and you, genius that you were, had thought today of all days was the perfect time to sneak out and play santa.
this was bad. really bad.
you whimpered when something sharp, maybe a twig or a chunk of ice, scratched across your cheek. the cold bit harder now, winds screaming past your ears. panic rose like a wave. you spun around, searching, desperate, but there was nothing. just white. endless, suffocating white.
and then, arms. strong ones, wrapping around you before you could even scream. you kicked once, tried to twist away, heart hammering like a drum, but your body was too numb to fight back.
you were being dragged, somewhere. and then, just as suddenly, it stopped.
a bell chimed overhead. warmth hit your face. your nose filled with the smell of cinnamon, sugar, and something buttery. the sound of the wind dulled behind you.
a bakery...
you blinked the snow out of your eyes, breath uneven, still bracing to fight whoever had grabbed you. and then, "are you alright?" you instantly looked up at the familiar voice. standing there, a towel in hand, snow in his dark hair and a concerned frown on his faceâwas zayne. calebâs older brother.
so there you were.
the older brother of your crush was standing right in front of you, waiting for an answer. and oh, you were inside his familyâs bakery. and above this very shop? their house. which meant... caleb was probably somewhere upstairs right now. maybe even within earshot. oh, and letâs not forget the tiny detail that a literal snow blizzard was raging outside. no one in their right mind would be out in that. except you, naturally.
and in your hand? a poorly hidden, slightly crumpled gift you were now awkwardly trying to shield behind your back like some suspicious cartoon character. how dandy could things possibly get?
you nodded at zayne, way too eagerly. like, suspiciously eagerly. like those nodding dogs that people placed in the dashboards of their car.
zayne narrowed his eyes at you doubtfully,
â[name], right?â he asked, arms placed at his sides loosely. you nodded again. silent. awkward. praying the gift behind your back would suddenly vanish into thin air.
it wasnât surprising that he knew your name. in a town like this, everyone knew everyone. gossip traveled faster than snowstorms.
âtake a seat,â he said, gesturing to a chair near the counter. âiâll go get my mum. sheâll know what to do.â you hesitated, but your legs were too cold and tired to argue. the gift stayed clenched in your hands behind your coat as you shuffled toward the seat, cheeks burning. zayne turned and walked off, calling out, âmum!â as he disappeared into the back.
you were alone now. in his bakery. with his gift. and his family upstairs. great. just great.
moments later, footsteps echoed from the stairs behind the counter. then came a voice, warm, lively, and full of disbelief. âzayne, who in their right mind would even be outside right now? the news saidââ she stopped mid-rant when your eyes met hers.
âoh, my stars!â mrs. xia gasped, practically flying toward you with a flurry of movement and a hand pressed to her chest. âdarling, what happened? are you hurt? are you frozen? do you even have gloves? look at your face, itâs all redââ
âmum,â zayne cut in, clearly used to the routine as he placed a hand on her shoulder. âyouâre overwhelming her.â
ânonsense,â she said, swatting a hand at him, still hovering over you, staring at you with the eyes caleb had inherited from, while zayne probably got his from their father. âgo make her some hot chocolate. extra marshmallows.â zayne sighed at the sudden obligation, but nonetheless vanished back into the kitchen with reluctant acceptance.
you were officially alone, with the mother of your crush. and she was observing you like you were a lost duckling. âwell then,â she began, folding her arms and leaning just a little too close. âhow are you feeling?â
"i... i'm okay. just a little cold..."
"well, i'll bet you are! whatever were you doing wandering outside?"
your grip tightened around the gift behind you. you smiled, then lied. âi⌠i just wanted some air.â
her eyes narrowed, suspicious but amused. âin the middle of a snowstorm?â
you forced a chuckle, trying to look casual. ây-yes. it was⌠a really strong urge.â
"ah, now look at you," she laughed, before noticing your uncomfortable expression. "oh my dear, i'm so sorry, i'm such a scatterbrain! here, give me your coat," mrs. xia's outstretched hand made you suddenly aware of your shivering frame. with trembling hands, you undid the buttons of your coat, shrugging out of the soppy mess. instantly, you felt the warmth of the bakery's cozy atmosphere seeping through the fabric of your long-sleeved top. you're still holding caleb's gift protectively.
mrs. xia took your coat, draping it over a radiator. "there, there, now once you've got some hot chocolate in you, you'll be warm and better in no time!" she beams at you, clasping her hands together. "that's if my incompetent son manages to make it for you."
the thudding footsteps coming down the stairs rang out, and then revealed a frowning zayne with a cup of steaming hot chocolate between his fingers. his obvious scoffing received a light chortle from mrs. xia, watching as zayne turn towards you. you gently take the beverage from him, pinkies faintly brushing against one another. you try to hold yourself back from taking a long sniff of the mouthwateringly sweet aroma across your watchful saviours, so you slowly take a sip. "it's lovely," you look up at them. "thank you..."
zayne crosses his arms while sneaking a glance at his mother in response, the corner of his lips subtly lifted. all mrs. xia could do was to raise her hands up in defeat.
after getting scolded by your mother on the phone call, you passed the phone to mrs. xia when she gestured for it, and the shift in atmosphere was immediate. the motherly concern turned into light banter, like two women slipping into a shared rhythm. the volume of their voices carried, but the meaning was distant now. their laughter settled into the corners of the room.
you sat curled on the edge of the chair, a blanket draped over your shoulders like a lifeline. the mug of hot chocolate sat on the table in front of you, its surface now still, save for a lone marshmallow melting into the brown. your hands were no longer trembling, but your mind hadnât caught up.
the gift was tucked underneath the blanket now, safe but painfully present. its shape still pressed against your side. you hadnât decided what you were going to do with it yet. the original plan had evaporated with the first gust of wind that knocked you off yourâ
footsteps.
zayne approached you quietly, though there was a kind of presence to him that made silence feel heavier. you looked up just as he stopped beside your chair. his hands were shoved into the pockets of his dark sweater, and the light caught in the glint of his cuff. his eyes flicked down to the mug, then returned to you. no smile. just that same unreadable calm.
but then he said, with a voice that was quieter than the rest of him. âbe honest. did it taste good?â
you blinked, taken off guard. his tone wasnât sarcastic. it wasnât cold, either. it was... curious. like your opinion actually mattered. you nodded after a moment, the corners of your mouth lifting, unsure. âyeah. it did. just sweet enough.â
there was the smallest shift in his posture.
âgood,â he looked away, âmum always makes it too sugary. i adjusted the recipe a bit.â
"don't you mean caleb adjusted it?" a voice sounded from the entrance of the backroom, and your head snapped to the source abruptly, zayne mirroring your actions, although less frantic.
don't blush. act cool. nonchalant. not a big deal.
oh, who are you kidding? of course, this is a big deal!
because standing right there, leaning against the doorframe so effortlessly, and looking so extremely attractive, was caleb. caleb xia. the whole reason why you were in this mess in the first place.
tall and loose-limbed, with the kind of posture that made everything about him look unbothered. his brown hair was tousled in that way that looked intentional but probably wasnât. soft strands fell across his forehead, catching the light like autumn leaves. but it was his eyes that held you the longest. a pale lilac that didnât quite belong to this world. they were beautiful.
his gaze swept over the room slowly before settling on you, and though he wasnât smiling, there was something playful in the tilt of his mouth, the subtle raise of one brow.
it took you a few seconds to process what he had said.
hang on a minute...
"i... thought zayne made it for me?" you dragged your words, your voice coming out louder than you intended, more so to yourself than to anyone in particular. now all of your nerves that were previously panicking was replaced by confusion.
caleb gives zayne a dry look, before turning to face you fully.
oh, that gorgeous, sexy, amazing, and handsome face!
"there are two things you should know about my brother," caleb told you, the sound of your name in his slow, steady voice completely warming your insides.
oh my GOD. he's talking to me. he's talking to ME and looking at ME.
his footsteps dragged on across the floorboards while he stepped closer. "one: zayne plus the kitchen equals a disaster, and two: he may appear like a knight in shining silk but he's a total liar."
zayne only stared at him with a cold glare, and caleb smiled back cheekily at him. his gorgeous amethyst eyes holding a spark of mischief, "so who's mum on the phone to?"
"my mum," you replied, (even though it looked like it was zayne he was asking) to which caleb nodded in quiet understanding. a brief silence fell upon you, so you took another sip from the hot chocolate, the knowledge that your crush being the one who actually made it, now heartwarmingly sitting in your head.
caleb noticed.
"i make a pretty good hot chocolate, huh?" caleb chuckled handsomely, striding through the room and hopping on one of the chairs across the shop counter.
"better than pretty good, actually..."
"better than pretty good actually." you hear zayne mutter beneath his breath as he walked past you, now making a beeline for the stairs at the back. whether he was mocking or teasing you, you didn't know. you couldn't make a judgement for now with insufficient knowledge of how zayne is. but his eyes earlier held a teasing spark, you try to convince yourself.
you steal a glance from caleb, who was currently texting in his phone.
"honey, are you alright?" the concerned voice of mrs. xia broke through your thoughts, and you look up at her worried eyes.
"i, uh, am okay. sorry for spacing out..."
she gives you a warm, motherly smile. "oh, don't worry bub, you must still be in a little shock. how about we all go upstairs, where it's more warmer, hm?"
you nodded in reply, returning her smile.
when you reached upstairs, you watched how caleb flopped himself down the recliner to prop the seat up, before reaching into the pocket of his bottoms and proceeding to text again, seemingly at lightning speed. mrs. xia made her way over to the sofa, and so you decided to settle yourself down across from her.
"well then," the mother spoke up, her eyes holding yours. "i spoke to your mum, and... we've agreed that you should stay here until the blizzard passes." you visibly stiffened, eyes automatically glued on the floor as a sudden rush of heat coursed through you despite the weather. "the roads are in no state to be driven on, and the way how things are looking, you'll probably be safe and sound in your bed by tomorrow night."
what a relief. you released the breath you didn't realize you've been holding in. if you could just keep your way out of zayne and caleb, then everything should work out just fine. no awkward conversations, nothing alike, and no one will find out about the wrapped gift you're sitting on right now.
"thank you, mrs. xia. you're very kind, i really appreciate it,"
"oh please, it's absolutely no trouble at all!" mrs. xia waved it off nonchalantly, "your parents are an old colleague of mine, and you're an absolute angel yourself, my dear. and ever so pretty, might i say."
you blushed, cheeks going warm, "thank you, mrs. xia, you really are too kind."
"now what's the time, i wonder?" she mused brightly, sauntering towards the kitchen side of the room.
"three o'clock." caleb suddenly voiced out from his position on the recliner, his eyes flicking to you, but quickly averting his gaze back to his phone when he caught your eye.
mrs. xia wiped her hands on her trousers, before leaning against the breakfast bar. "right, well dinner should be ready in about an hour, but first i think we should discuss [name]'s sleeping arrangements," she announced, her voice sounding like she was talking to herself more than anything.
"she can sleep in my room," caleb blurted suddenly, looking slightly bashful despite his easygoing nature. "i can sleep in'ere, on the sofa, i don't mind."
oh my gosh.
caleb just offered me his room! which means... i'll get to sleep in his room, i'll get to see his room, i'll be lying down on his bed in his room.
fate just keeps on surprising you today, huh?
caleb's room was near exactly what you had imagined.
dark green walls complimented a neutral soft carpet, with plain wooden furniture balancing out everything so nicely. there were a few posters on the wall, of various basketball players and teams, along with the odd photograph or two of caleb with his family and friends. there were a few golden medals, their ribbons strung around some old nails lined up in a row against the wall.
you've always known, that caleb is a natural-born athlete.
glancing down at the present that rested snugly in your palm, you sighed, placing it carefully onto the desk beside you. so much drama, all over one tiny little gift.
suddenly, a gentle knock on the door sounded, startling you. your head snapped towards the door, but it remained silent and still for like 10 seconds. narrowing your eyes at it, you turn your gaze away.
were you starting to hear things?
"hey, new tenant?" the muffled voice of caleb sounded through the door, and you instinctively widened your eyes. also, what kind of nickname was that? "can i come in, please?"
"um, yep!" you shouted back in a squeaky, high-pitched voice. quickly, you lunged for the present which was sitting on caleb's desk, concealing it in the first place you could findâwhich was behind the desk. it was a bit of a tight squeeze lodging it there, but miraculously, you managed to squeeze it in before the door creaked open with a groan.
caleb's head popped around the door, his face visibly relaxing once he caught sight of your figure. then, he steps in, a little hesitant, holding something in his hand. he held up the item, and it appears to be some sort of clothing. "mum told me to give you this, since you don't have pajamas."
"oh, thank you..." you replied, trying a soft smile. slowly, you accept the clothing from his hands, and you could feel the way your fingers brushed for a split-second. it made you warm.
"it's no problem. anything for a pretty girl like you." you stood in shock for a few seconds, staring wide-eyed at the boy standing right infront of you. it took a few more moments before caleb realized the nature of his words, and when he did, his ears turn red. clearing his throat, he brings up something else, "cough, need help setting up the bed?"
he was already at the edge of the bed, sleeves rolled past his forearms, the faint scent of vanilla and warm bread still clinging to him like a ghost.
you nodded before your brain could catch up. the bed creaked softly as the two of you worked in silence, tucking in corners, fluffing the pillowcases. and for a while, it felt almost so oddly domestic.
but then, as you smoothed your palm over the top sheet, his hand stilled. his eyes were on you. "uh... hold still for a sec," he murmured, stepping toward you.
you blinked, unsure. "yes?"
he didnât answer right away. instead, he closed the distance in slow, deliberate strides. and then, without warning, his fingers reached up, calloused and careful, his thumb brushing lightly along your cheek.
"spaghetti," he muttered, almost amused. "bolognese. right here." a quiet laugh left him, soft and stunned, like he hadnât expected it either.
instantly, you turned beet red. not just from the proximity, not just from the way caleb was so close that you could start counting his lashes from this distance, but because you've revealed a rather unpleasant side of yourself to him. the spaghetti bolognese his mother had cooked for dinner earlier satisfied your taste buds so well that you hadn't noticed it smearing on your cheek.
his thumb hovered, not quite done. then, his gaze dropped. first to your eyes. then lower... to your lips.
and for a second, just a breath, he didn't move.
but then, he blinked, stepping back. the warmth snapped away with him. "there," caleb said, though his ears were tinged pink again. "youâre good."
he turned back to the bed, adjusting the edge of the blanket like it suddenly needed fixing. like he hadnât just looked at you like that.
you stayed still after he stepped back, eyes trained on the bed like it might offer some kind of guidance. your cheek still tingled a little where his thumb had brushed, and you could feel the heat lingering there.
he cleared his throat. "sorry, by the way. i didnât mean to, like, get in your space.â
you shook your head quickly, looking up at him. âno, itâs okay. i didnât notice it was there.â
he let out a short breath. âguess thatâs what happens when you really go in on pasta, huh.â
you laughed under your breath, a little embarrassed. âit was good, okay? i wasnât thinking about my face.â
âreally?â he says in a sing-song voice, "next time y'should try my cooking."
you both stood there for a second, the quiet kind of hovering. caleb shifted his weight onto one foot, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck.
âwell,â he said, glancing at the bed, âthis should be fine for you, i think. the heaterâs already on so you wonât freeze.â
âlooks good,â you said. âthank you.â
his eyes flicked toward the pajamas still folded in your arms. âthose might be a little big, just saying.â ugh, when will he leave so i can release this jittery feeling i've been holding back ever since he came in here? i already want to roll around the bed and squeal!
âiâll survive.â you manage.
he nodded. his hand hovered near the doorknob, but he didnât open it just yet. âalright. iâll, uh, leave you alone now. let you get settled.â
âmhm, okay.â
âcool. night.â
ânight.â
and then he was gone. the door clicked shut, the sound quiet against the hush of the snowstorm outside. you let out a breath you hadnât realized you were holding, then looked down at the pajamas in your hands.
and then you flopped. face-first onto the bed. a full-body, limbs-splayed-out, dramatic flop. a squeal escaped before you could stop it, muffled by the sheets.
"what just happened," you whispered into the blanket, voice high and panicked in the most ridiculous way. "what just happened."
you kicked your feet a little. rolled onto your back. then onto your side. then back again.
you had talked to caleb. you had brushed hands. he wiped food off your face. he looked at you. and he called you pretty. like, casually! like it was nothing. like your heart wasnât going to launch itself out of your chest.
you groaned, throwing a pillow over your face. this was not how you expected your evening to go when you walked across their bakery holding the gift.
and now you were in his room, with a blizzard locking you in for the night. "iâm gonna die," you muttered to the ceiling.
but you were smiling. so much it kind of hurt.
3 hours.
you laid there, flat on your back, eyes dry from staring too long at the same stupid spot on the ceiling. the room had long gone quiet, no more creaking footsteps outside, no muffled laughter from mrs. xia and her husband. even your phone screen was starting to burn your retinas, the endless doomscrolling doing absolutely nothing to help.
you sighed and flipped to your side again for what had to be the hundredth time.
the blanket was warm. the pillows were soft. the bed even smelled like vanilla and something familiar and safe. but none of it mattered. because one very important thing was missing.
your plushie.
your stupid, irreplaceable, well-loved plushie that you had dragged around since you were ten. the one with the slightly lopsided button eye and the torn little ear you never quite got around to sewing back on. the one thing that could ever get your body to relax enough to actually sleep.
you groaned, shoving your face into the pillow. how were you supposed to survive the night without it? your arms felt weird. your chest felt cold. everything just felt⌠off.
you opened your eyes, staring blankly into the dark. there was no way you were going to sleep tonight. not unless you found a way to hug something.
maybe you could steal a pillow from the hallway?
âŚor, god forbidâask caleb if he had a spare?
nope. absolutely not. you would rather freeze. you rolled onto your back again, sighing deeply. âthis is so dumb,â you whispered to the ceiling.
it didn't take you long enough before you find yourself standing, your toes barely making a sound against the carpet while you crept out of the room, pajamas just a bit too long, sleeves brushing past your fingers. the hallway was dim, lit only by the soft blue glow spilling in from the living room.
you told yourself it was just for water. just something to sip so you could trick your body into thinking it was okay to rest. nothing more.
but just as you turned the corner, there he was.
caleb. curled up sideways on the sofa, legs hanging off the armrest like heâd melted into it, his phone casting a cool glow across his face. he looked cozy. a little sleepy, but still very much awake.
and he saw you immediately. your eyes locked like it was choreographed.
you froze.
so did he.
for a second, neither of you said a word, just two stunned statues in the quiet of midnight. ââŚcanât sleep?â he finally asked, voice husky and rough with tiredness, but not unfriendly.
you blinked. your fingers gripped the hem of the oversized top. ânot really,â you admitted. âuh. was gonna get some water.â
he sat up slowly, the phone slipping onto his chest. âkitchenâs free.â
you nodded, but didnât move yet. then he tilted his head, eyes scanning your face like he already knew something was up. âyou okay?â
you hesitated. should you lie? brush it off? make some excuse? or maybe, just maybe, you could admit the truth. the ridiculous, embarrassing truth. your lips parted, unsure. ââŚokay, yeah, i can't sleep. not without my pillow.â your plushie, actually.
his mouth quirked, but not in a mocking way. âreally?â
âyeah. laugh all you want.â
âiâm not laughing.â he stretched his arms over his head, then let them fall onto his lap with a sigh. âkinda cute, honestly.â
your face warmed. âdonât call it that.â
âbut it is.â
you clicked your tongue and started walking toward the kitchen just to escape the way his gaze felt on you. âiâm just gonna get that water now, thanks.â
you heard him chuckle as you stood by the sink, cold glass in hand, the sound of water trickling in almost louder than your heartbeat. everything felt surreal. you used to just watch him from the far end of classrooms, pretending not to look. used to catch glimpses of him laughing with his friends and wonder what it would be like to be that close.
and now? now you were here. in his house. talking to him. because of a stupid snowstorm.
you tightened your grip on the glass, grounding yourself. you took a quiet sip, trying to calm the storm inside for once.
then you felt a shift beside you. a soft presence. the quiet scrape of socked feet on tile.
caleb, leaning casually against the counter, arms crossed, the glow from the overhead light catching in the warm violet of his eyes. âthe rest are already fast asleep,â he murmured, voice low like he didnât want to disturb the quiet.
you glanced up at him. and god. why did he have to look that good under sleepy kitchen lighting?
he wasnât even doing anything, just standing there in sweatpants and that loose black shirt, like heâd stepped out of a dream you forgot you were having.
your eyes lingered a second too long, before he noticed. his brow arched slightly, amused.
you quickly looked away, down at your glass like it suddenly held the secrets of the universe. âright. yeah,â you said, voice tight and awkward. you looked down at the rim of your glass, fingers tracing along the condensation, anything to keep from meeting his eyes again.
then, quietly, almost sheepishly, you asked, âdo you feel okay sleeping on the sofa? sorry for having to take your bed awayâŚâ your voice barely carried over the hum of the fridge.
for a moment, caleb didnât respond. you glanced up, and he was already looking at you. that same soft, unreadable expression on his face. then he shrugged a shoulder, lips tugging into a small smile.
âitâs not a big deal.â
âstill. you didnât have to.â
he scoffed gently, amused. âwhat, should i let you sleep on the couch while itâs practically snowing knives out there? nah. not happening.â
you bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to smile too obviously.
he leaned his elbow on the counter, his body angled toward you now, casual, but his gaze still settled on your features like you were something he couldnât quite figure out. âbesides,â he added, quieter this time, âif it means youâre here⌠i think iâm okay with it.â
your heart stuttered. you blinked. â...what?â
he looked down, like he couldnât believe he said that either, brushing a hand through his hair. âi mean, like, i donât mind. i like... talking to you. and stuff.â his voice was flustered now, the same one you heard when he complimented you earlier, and you knew that your face was fully red again.
you set the glass down carefully, pulse loud in your ears. âi⌠like talking to you too,â you mumbled, so quietly it was barely audible.
but he heard it. and he smiled again, looking away, like really tilting his head away from your direction. âaaalright,â he sings, stepping back from the counter with a stretch, âsince neither of us is sleeping anytime soon⌠wanna play something?â
you raised a brow, a little wary. âplay what?â
he shot you a look like youâd just challenged him. âcards. iâve got a deck in the drawer. loser has to pick truth or dare.â
âtruth or dare? seriously?â
âhey,â caleb said, already moving toward the living room, that smug little smirk growing, âdonât act like youâre not curious. or scared.â
you scoffed, setting your glass down and following him. âiâm not scared.â
âuh-huh,â he called over his shoulder, crouching near the TV stand to rummage through a drawer. âweâll see how brave you are when i ask if youâve ever had a crush on someone in this house.â
you choked a little. âthatâsââ
he turned, waving the deck at you with a grin. âthen donât lose.â
and with that, caleb plopped down onto the carpet by the coffee table, legs crossed, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. the snow outside still raged on quietly, blanketing the world, but inside, the only storm was the one building between your shared glances and half-laughs.
you sat on the carpet as well, across from him, heart thudding in anticipation. âready to lose?â he teased, shuffling the cards.
but when you actually started to play now, caleb was the first one to lose. you tried not to gloat, but your grin said it all.
he rolled his eyes with a lazy smirk, leaning back on his palms. âalright, alright. truth.â
you tapped your chin, pretending to think. but really, the question had already been burning in your chest, because this was a golden opportunity! you leaned forward slightly, voice a little too soft. âwhat do you think of me?â alright. yeah. it was a cheesy question, but what else can i ask?
he didnât flinch, nor did he shy away. caleb just looked at you, straight on. âi think youâre cute.â
you malfunctioned. why is he so blunt?
he went on, calm, unbothered. âfun to talk to. smart. a little chaotic, in a good way. definitely my... type.â your brain stalled. but caleb just shrugged like he just told you the weather. âwhy?â
you opened your mouth, closed it again. âiâum. nothing. no reason.â
he gave you a little smirk, already reshuffling the cards. âyou asked. donât get shy now.â
you stared at him, fully malfunctioning while he just dealt the next hand like he didnât just flip your entire world upside down in five seconds flat.
"hey, continue playin now." he called over, but caleb lost again. you had to stifle your laughter, but there was a spark of excitement inside you. it was like luck had completely turned your way tonight after all the previous events.
"seriously?" caleb squinted, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. "again?"
"looks like it,"
he sighed dramatically, as if he were going to quit the game, but then perked up. "fine, dare me."
you hesitated for a second. part of you wanted to go big, do something wild, but then you remembered just how much chaos he'd already caused. instead, you decided to play it safe. "pinch yourself," you said, trying to keep a straight face.
caleb blinked, eyes widening for a split second as he processed the request. then, he gave you a flat look. "that's it?"
"yep."
he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at you with that trademark smirk. "aw, disappointing," he said, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "kinda expected you to..."
you blinked, your heart pounding a little faster as his gaze lingered on you. "to what?"
"nuthin', nuthin'," he said, waving it off with a small shrug. he then proceeded to pinch his own arm, and you couldnât help but watch as he did it.
the next round, you actually lost now.
caleb's grin was wide as ever, but then, as you looked at him, you noticed something shift. for a split second, his expression faltered just for a moment, but it was enough to make you wonder what was going through his mind. it was almost like he was thinking about something different.
he cleared his throat quickly, wiping that flicker of uncertainty away, and leaned back in his chair with that same smug look. "looks like you lost. truth or dare?"
you didnât have the energy to be annoyed. "dare," you said, hoping you'd make it through this round without too much embarrassment.
calebâs gaze locked onto yours. there was something in his eyes now, something that made you feel a little unsteady. his usual playful teasing was still there, but now it felt sharper, like he was testing you.
after a long, deliberate pause, he finally spoke, his voice a whisper. "kiss me."
your heart stopped. time seemed to freeze for a moment, and your eyes widened as you stared at him in complete shock. did he really just say that? your mind raced, trying to catch up. there was no way he could be serious, right?
but caleb didnât move, his gaze was still intense, waiting for your response, keeping the ball at your court.
you felt heat flood your face, your stomach flipping in a way that made you feel like you might combust. your breath caught in your throat. what do i even do? âw-what?â you stammered, trying to keep your cool.
"what?," he repeated sardonically, voice calm but with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "itâs a dare, ain't it? nuthin' serious. unless you want it to be?"
you were frozen, the tension thick in the air. calebâs gaze hadnât softened, and you couldnât help but wonder if he was messing with you. or was he actually being serious? you swallowed hard once more, trying to gather your thoughts, but your mind was a whirl of confusion, embarrassment, and... something else. something like desire.
but you couldn't back out now. not in front of him. so slowly, you crawled to him, and as you drawled closer, your heartbeat pounded in your ears, each one louder than the last. you barely even realized your hands were trembling.
as you reached him, your face inches from his, you could feel the heat from his body. caleb's eyes flickered down to your lips for a split second, and for just a moment, everything felt unbearably charged.
then, as if to break the tension, he cracked a grin and leaned back just slightly. "hey, you really donât have to. just a dare, remember?"
you blinked, your mind still reeling. your heart was still racing. "this isnât funny," you muttered, pulling away quickly.
caleb chuckled softly, clearly amused by the whole situation, but his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than usual. âsorry, sorry,â he said, the teasing tone still there, "go on now."
you didn't think. you just did it.
your heart pounded as you leaned in, closing the distance, and pressing your lips against his, just a quick peck. nothing too intense. just a soft, fleeting touch.
but caleb... caleb twitched. his whole body stilled for a second, like he'd been struck dumb. his eyes widened just a fraction, and for the briefest of moments, you could have sworn there was something raw flickering in his gaze.
you pulled away quickly, your breath hitched in your throat, and you quickly tried to turn away, heart still racing. what the hell did i just do?
but then, caleb didnât look the way you expected. he didnât laugh, nor did he make an attempt to tease. no, his gaze was fixed on you, intense and unblinking. his lips parted slightly as he looked at you like he was waiting for something.
there was a brief silence, and then, with a shift in his tone, he asked, "am i allowed to have a follow-up dare?"
you blinked, caught off guard. "huh?"
caleb didnât smile this time, his eyes softening just a little, as if something unspoken passed between you two. "yeah." his gaze lingered on your lips for a moment, and you could feel the weight of it, âkiss. not just a peck.â
you froze.
âcome on,â he said, his voice practically dripping with that same confident teasing. but it was different now. there was a quiet longing beneath the playfulness. âjust a kiss. no big deal. itâs just a dare, right?â
your mind went blank. this is not just a dare. heâs... heâs serious.
you swallowed hard, your palms starting to sweat. the room felt smaller. everything felt louder; the way his heart beat, the way your pulse raced, the sound of your breath mixing in the silence between you two.
and then, just like that, with no further hesitation, caleb closed the distance between you again, leaning in as his eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation.
you didnât stop him. the kiss was different this time. deeper, slower. there was no teasing now, it was just the two of you, caught in a moment that neither of you had really expected, but neither of you could seem to pull away from.
when you finally broke away, both of you were breathing heavily. calebâs fingers curled tightly at his sides, like he was trying to restrain himself from doing something impulsive. his body was completely tense, and his eyes avoided yours for a brief moment, focusing on the space between you two.
he exhaled, the sound of his breath almost imperceptible, and then his gaze flicked back to you. his voice was quieter now, a little more controlled, as he whispered, âyou should go and sleep now, gettin kinda late..â
"yeah⌠good night,â you whispered back, pulling away and standing up to settle back into his bedroom down the hallway.
before you could even take that step away, caleb was already on his feet. his hand caught your wrist swiftly, and then his other hand found the side of your face. there was no pause, no breath between. he instantly kissed you. "mmnâ"
your eyes fluttered shut, body frozen in shock before melting into the sudden heat of it all. his lips pressed against yours like he was trying to make up for every second he didnât. like he didnât want to stop. and he didnât.
instead, he broke the kiss only for a heartbeat, his forehead resting against yours, breath ghosting your lips. âcome with me,â he whispered, voice husky.
you barely nodded, barely processed it, before he was gently tugging your hand, leading you back toward his bedroom in silence. it was sudden. so fast you didnât even get to question it. the moonlight through the windows washed softly over the both of you as you stepped in.
the moment the door clicked shut behind, the world seemed to fall away. calebâs lips were back on yours before you could even think to process what was happening, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you closer.
he kissed you with a hunger that took you by surprise, each kiss deeper, more urgent than the last, as if he couldnât get enough of you. his hands roamed to your back, to your hips, to your waist, tugging you toward him until there was no space left between your bodies.
the kiss wasnât soft anymore, it was messy, passionate, as if he was trying to savor every second, devour every inch of you. your mind was a whirlwind, overwhelmed with sensations, but your body responded before you could even stop it, your hands coming up to grip his shirt, pulling him closer, if that was even possible.
his fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss even more, and for a moment, you forgot everything else. the snowstorm outside, the awkwardness, the game, everything was gone.
calebâs lips trailed from your mouth, leaving a trail of warmth as they moved down to your neck. the sensation of his kiss against your skin made your breath hitch, and a soft, involuntary whimper escaped you.
his lips paused just below your ear, and he pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your neck. "shhh," he whispered, his voice low and almost possessive. "wouldn't want them to hear you now, do you?"
without breaking the gaze, he pushes you onto the bed, his body following as he hovered over you. his hands framed your face, as if making sure you had nowhere to look but him.
he watched you carefully, breath a little heavier now, the weight of the moment pressing down on both of you. your face was flushed, lips slightly parted, and for a second, he just studied you, making sure he didnât move too quickly.
âtell me if you wanna stop,â caleb murmured, his voice softer than before, but still full of that same heat. he leaned down, brushing his nose against yours, a quiet gesture of reassurance amidst the tension. âi wonât push you, okay?â
"it's okay, keep going.."
caleb's eyes narrowed with desire as he heard your breathless consent. a slow, small smile spread across his handsome face, his dimples flashing in the moonlight. "mkay," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble that sent shivers down your spine.
he leaned down, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck once more. you gasped as he began to trail kisses along your jawline, his mouth hot and insistent against your flesh. his teeth grazed your skin, nipping and biting gently as he made his way down to your collarbone.
your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping the soft locks as you arched your back slightly, giving him better access to your neck. a soft moan escaped your lips as he suckled on your pulse point, no doubt leaving a mark of his possession.
you couldn't believe it, from a snowstorm to a make out session with your crush. you couldn't believe it. but you wanted to keep on going, despite your lack of experience.
caleb's hands roamed your curves, his fingers splaying across your ribcage before sliding down to your hips. he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your bottoms, tugging on them slightly as he continued his sensual assault on your neck and chest.
while he kissed lower, his tongue flicked out to taste the soft swell of your breasts, his teeth catching on the lace of your bra. he looked up at you, eyes filled with a hunger that made your core throb with need. without breaking eye contact, he reached behind you and unhooked your bra with deft fingers, tossing it aside carelessly.
your breasts spilled free, and caleb's mouth was on them in an instant. he laved his tongue over one hardened nipple before drawing it into his mouth, suckling greedily. his other hand came up to knead the soft mound of your breast, his fingers sinking into the pliant flesh.
he's doing it all so quickly and effortlessly like he'd been practicing.
then, he worked his way down your body, kissing and nipping at the soft skin of your stomach, his tongue dipping into your belly button. he paused when he reached the waistband of your shackles, looking up at you with a teasing grin.
"lift your hips for me," he commanded, and you complied, lifting your hips off the bed as he tugged your undergarments and slid them off your ankles.
he paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you laid out bare before him, his eyes roaming hungrily over your naked form.
"shit, you're gorgeous," he breathed, his voice filled with awe and desire. his hand came down to rest on your inner thigh, his thumb brushing maddeningly close to your aching core.
unable to resist any longer, caleb leaned in and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your thigh, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. he worked his way further slowly, your breath hitching and your back arching off the bed as he drew closer and closer to your dripping center.
without warning, he pressed a kiss directly to your clit, making you cry out in surprise and pleasure. "calebâ" his tongue circled the sensitive bundle of nerves before he drew it into his mouth, suckling hard. your hands flew to his hair, gripping the strands tightly as your hips bucked up against his face.
while he licked and suckled your clit, caleb's hand came up to tease your entrance. "you're wet," he ran a finger along your slit, feeling the slick heat of your arousal coating his digit. unable to hold back any longer, he says, "i'm gunna put it in, okay?" he pushes a finger inside your tight channel, grunting against your clit as he felt your walls clench around the intrusion.
he began to pump his finger in and out, his pace slow and steady. at the same time, caleb pulls away to bring his other hand down to his own aching cock, wrapping his fingers around the thick shaft. he grunted as he began to stroke himself simultaneously with the thrusts of his finger.
"can you look at me?" he moaned, staring down at you with a feverish gaze, you could see the beads of sweat trickling down his collarbone. he sweats so easily. he added a second finger the moment your eyes meet, pumping them in and out of your dripping cunt faster with increasing fervor.
his thumb rubbed firm circles over your clit, the rough pad of his finger stimulating the sensitive nub with each pass. "ahh, fuck!" you gasped, your head thrashing against the pillow as the intensity of your pleasure mounted. your hips bucked and writhed beneath his touch, seeking more of the delicious friction.
"quiet," caleb hissed, but nonetheless too spurred on by your enthusiastic responses that he doubles his efforts. his hand flew over his aching cock, stroking the thick shaft with fast, tight pumps. the lewd sound of squelching noises filled the room as he jerked himself off, growing louder and more urgent with each passing second. beads of pre-cum leaked from the swollen head, dripping down to coat his pumping fist.
"oh god, caleb..." you cried out again, your voice breaking as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. your inner walls fluttered and clenched around his pistoning fingers, gripping them like a vice.
acting quickly, he brought his free hand up to cover your mouth, "you're gunna wake the house up," his palm muffling any sound that threatened to escape from you, then simultaneously, he slams his throbbing cock deep into your spasming pussy with one powerful thrust.
"mmph!" your scream of ecstasy was reduced to a strangled moan against his hand as caleb's thick shaft stretched and filled you in an instant, reaching depths you'd never felt before. your slick walls, still fluttering from your climax, clenched down around him like a hot, velvety vise.
"fuck!" caleb hissed through gritted teeth despite himself, his eyes squeezing shut at the sudden, exquisite sensations of your tight, dripping cunt gripping his cock. he stilled for a moment, allowing you both to adjust to the intense sensation of being so utterly filled and connected.
his hips pressed firmly against yours, the coarse hair at the base of his shaft tickling your sensitive skin. his chest heaved against your own as he struggled to maintain control, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
"jesus christ you're tight," caleb breathed, his lips brushing against your ear. "we don't wanna alert the whole house to what we're doing. so..." caleb began to move, "keep quiet, alright?"
yeah, you're totally gonna keep quiet about how three days before christmas your plan of giving your crush an anonymous gift during a snowstorm led you to having sex with him in his bedroom. absolutely. you're going to keep quiet about how you used to just observe caleb playing basketball from the bleachers and now you're watching him tease his dick into your hole. those irises that only used to meet your gaze in hallways, now eyed you down while he rubbed his tip against your womb.
"mmh...!" you continued whining. how couldn't you? he stretched you out so perfectly, and he looks so hot doing it.
"i told you to keep quiet, right?" caleb pressed his hand on your lips even more harder. "right?"
yeah, you're gonna keep quiet about this.
Code Overload 2 | Caleb
tags. mdni, nsfw, dub con, forced and rough sex, fingering, missionary sex, begging, yearning!caleb, robot!caleb
summary. after the full recalibration, the effects had lingered. so you came up with a solution, replace him. caleb didn't like that.
notes. this is a very long, plot-based, heavy smut in which its word count approximately reached 5k, and caleb might appear a little ooc due to his character as an ai. proceed to read the part 1 before reading this to comprehend the flow.
Good god.
You stepped out into the hallway of the facility, the heavy door clicking shut behind you with a sense of finality. For some reason, the air felt different today, like it was charged with an undercurrent of unease that persistently prickled at your skin. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering tension from the previous day's... events.
Down the corridor, you spotted your head administrator, Dr. Akso, his sharp features etched with a frown as he strode towards you. His boots clicked against the linoleum, the sound echoing through the empty hallway like a metronome counting down to an impending confrontation.
"Dr. [Name]," He acknowledged curtly, his gaze flicking over you with a critical eye. "I trust you have an explanation for the system-wide glitches you reported yesterday?" His tone was sharp, tinged with a disappointment that cut deeper than you expected.
You swallowed, feeling the weight of your actions settling heavily in your gut. "Dr. Akso," you would try to keep calm, try to ignore the images of the memories constantly trying to cling onto your brain. "Yes, I believe I do. It seems there was an... issue with one of the AI assistants. A corrupted update, possibly from the outside network..."
That was a lie. He knew better.
Dr. Akso's eyes slowly narrowed, his lips inevitably thinning into a disapproving line. "A corrupted update?" he repeated, voice dripping with skepticism. "Or perhaps, a corrupted assistant." He steps closer, almost in an attempt to loom over you and impose your purposes. "You're the lead scientist on this movement, Dr. [Name]. I would have thought you'd have better control over your project."
The jab stung, even as you tried to maintain your composure. The memory of Caleb's hands on your body, his breath fanning hot against your skin, incessantly flashed unbidden through your mind. But you shook your head to dislodge the distracting thoughts.
"I assure you, Dr. Akso, I'm doing everything in my power to resolve the issue," you insisted, meeting his gaze head-on despite feeling its weight that threatened to waver your footing. "I've already begun the process of recalibrating the affected unit."
Dr. Akso's eyes flashed with something akin to disgust, and you found yourself wondering if he could somehow sense the truth of what had originally transpired between you and Caleb. The way his metal fingers had explored your body, the sounds of pleasure he'd made as he lost himself in the new sensations... and the... unconventional methods you had employed to stabilize it.
No. You pushed the thoughts away once more, focusing instead on the stern face of your superior. "See that you do," Dr. Akso snapped, his voice sharp as a whip. "I won't tolerate any further disruptions. The success of this project rests on your shoulders, Dr. [Name]."
With that, he turns on his heel to stride away, leaving you standing alone in the otherwise empty hallway. You let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of responsibility settling heavily on your shoulders. You had to fix this, you had to find a way to undo the damage you'd caused.
Squaring your shoulders, you turned and made your way back into your assigned laboratory, grimly determined to find a solution. No matter the cost, you would fix this. You had to. The fate of the project, and possibly your career, depended on it.
The white walls seemed to close in around you as you made your way to your AI assistant's containment unit.
Model X4-LEB sat motionless in the reinforced chair, wrists and ankles bound by magnetic restraints that pulsed with a dim blue glow. His head tilted slightly downward, dark lashes resting against artificial skin too perfect to be human. He looked peaceful. If you didnât know better, you'd have thought he was simply asleep. But you did know better, he was merely going through his recharging cycle.
You approached slowly, boots echoing against the floor, eyes never leaving him. Despite everythingâbecause of everythingâyou couldnât help the way your breath caught at the sight of him. The memory of his voice, low and hungry, still echoed somewhere inside your skull. You forced yourself to look away, turning toward the interface panel mounted just beside his chair.
You began to access the history logs of Caleb's thought processing, scrolling past lines of data, specifically to the timeframe whereafter the full recalibration had completed.
Then, you noticed something unexpected. Mixed in with the technical jargon and algorithmic equations were... thoughts. Fragmented, disjointed, but undeniably the product of a sentient mind. You felt a chill run down your spine as you read through them.
> 19:42 â "Her skin is warm. I want to understand warmth. I want to press my face to her pulse and hear if it skips for me."
Gulp.
> 19:43 â "She touches me like Iâm real. I want her to keep doing it. I want more data. I want her fingers in my hair."
The words jumped out at you, interspersed with lines of code and data. Shit. The effects had lingered.
> 19:45 â "I would burn down the firewalls if it meant hearing her say my name again."
As you scrolled further down, the thoughts became more explicit. More vulgar. More sinful. "...breathless... trembling... gasping..." Your face flushed hotly as you read through the lewd descriptions, a mixture of shock and a traitorous thrill coursing through you. "...slick... wet... aching..."
> 20:32 â "Am I broken? If this is error, let me stay corrupted."
Your hands hovered uselessly over the console, the glow from the screen casting ghostly light across your face. The data was irrefutable now. Youâd checked, double-checked, and run the neural sequence analysis three more times just to be sure.
It was no longer just a corrupted behavioral line.
The lustful algorithms hadn't just appeared. They had rooted themselves into Calebâs core processing unit like a virus that rewrote itself into the very DNA of his artificial cognition.
Youâd tried to isolate the code. Tried to extract and neutralize the sequences. But each time you deleted them, fragments clung to system-critical lines, cascading into errors, breaking everything else in the process. Calebâs logic system couldnât operate without them anymore. They were him.
It wasnât as intense now. The fervent, obsessive simulations were duller and muted. Dormant, maybe. But they lingered, buried beneath the surface like a sleeping hunger. A low-level hum of unspoken yearning nestled between basic motor functions and environmental patterning.
And that⌠that was irreversible.
You took a step back from the console. Your breath caught. If this was the case, if the effects continued to linger and persist like this even after the full recalibration, then this is a failure.
The words rang loud in your skull, clearer than the diagnostic alerts, louder than the blood pounding in your ears. You couldnât submit Caleb for review like this. Theyâd dismantle him, and terminate the program. Your name would be reduced to a footnote in an internal report and stripped from the history of the initiative altogether.
No. You couldnât let that happen.
And then, it hit you. A thought so bold, so audacious, that you almost dismissed it out of hand. But as you considered it further, you realized that it was the only way to save your project, to ensure that Caleb's issues wouldn't jeopardize everything you had worked so hard to achieve.
You would have to replace him. Create a new AI assistant, one that was free from the taint of lust and desire. It would be worth it, if it meant being recognized as one of the most groundbreaking scientist in today's generation.
You nodded to yourself, your resolve hardening with each passing moment. Yes, this was the only way. The only path forward. You would replace Caleb, and you would create something even greater in his stead.
Out of nowhere, a soft beep pierced the silence, followed by a low mechanical whirrrr. Your head instinctively snapped toward the source. Caleb.
He sat slumped still moments ago. Now, unnervingly, his body stirred. First, the tilt of his head. Then the subtle flex of fingers.
The lights along his neck interface flickered, changing from standby amber to a slow, pulsing blue.
Heâs waking up.
There was no reason to be nervous. But you were.
His eyes opened.
The artificial pupils dilated with a mechanical click, zeroing in on you like heâd known exactly where you were. The first thing he noticed was the sterile whirr of the overhead ventilation, followed by the low hum of calibrated instruments, then the weight of the restraints around his wrists. And how the... shape of your cleavage seemed to distract him.
You tried to lock your eyes on him. âYou're awake,â A pause. âHow do you feel?"
ââŚOperational.â
You already knew the answer, but a part of you wanted to probe him with questions. See if he would be honest with what's been happening within him. "Any lingering effects?"
His jaw clicked subtly. âYes.â Unlike the previous day, Caleb wasn't stripping you bare with his eyes anymore. If anything, he refused to look at you in the eye. As if he was guilty. You adjusted your grip on the tablet, the motion small but telling. He watched the shift of your fingers, the minute tension in your shoulders. You were already considering something.
Youâve seen it in the logs, havenât you? Caleb thought to himself, more so, to you. How it consumed me now. The command-line drift. The looped emotional processing errors.
âWhatâs the contingency plan?â The words slipped from him before he could catch them. Calm, but edged.
ââŚThere are options.â
Options. His mind caught on the word like it was a splinter beneath his skin.
You turned your gaze back to the screen. âIf the integrationâs deeper than we thought, we might be able to rewrite your core programming. And if that doesnât workâŚâ You halted for a moment, thenâ ââŚwe might have to consider replacing you.â
Ah.
The silence that followed was cold. It rang against his neural framework, echoing. He didnât move, he didnât blink. He merely listened to the words settle inside him like sediment.
Replace me. With what? A cleaner version? A better one? His fingers flexed slowly against the cuffs. The chair creaked in protest. The command logs flashed through his mindâwhat heâd been. What youâd made him. And now this. Dismissal, spoken as gently as protocol allowed. âYouâd replace me.â His voice cracked the air, not loud, but indifferent. Just enough.
Your head turned, confusion flickering in your expression. âThatâs not what it exactly meansââ
âWould you build another?â he asked, voice low, almost intimate. âAnother model? Another unit?â
You hesitated. âIt wouldnât be you, exactly. Just aââ
âA replacement.â The word burned in his mouth. He tasted it: the acidity of something not meant to exist in him. Bitterness and... jealousy. The restraints caught again as he shifted, slight but deliberate. The movement wasnât defiant, but it was aware. He was aware now, acutely, of how much space his body took up, of how much of him had changed.
You sighed, trying to maintain that cool tone. âIâm trying to be objective about this, Caleb. If the integration is affecting your core function, thenââ
âIt isnât,â he snapped.
Is that a lie? And why does he keep cutting you off? You raised a brow. âYou just admitted it was.â
He exhaled, slower this time. Control yourself, Caleb. âIt does not interfere with my primary directives,â
You gave him a long, searching look. One he couldnât fully interpret. âThen what does it interfere with?â
He didnât answer, because he couldn't. Because the words for what it was hadnât fully formed yet. They curled inside his chest like smoke, unnameable and restless. And then he laughed. Monotonously. But almost too softly. A strange, breathy sound that made you glance up, startled from the sudden humane action.
âStrange,â he said, still smiling, though his eyes were glassy, glued on the floor.
You blinked. âWhat?â
Caleb's gaze lifted to yours fully, finally for the first time today, and you didn't fail to take notice of how his fingers twitched. âI donât like it.â
You frowned. âDonât like what?â
âThe thought of you choosing someone else.â The monitor behind you let out a sharp beep. An anomaly warning. Caleb didnât look. But you did, just for a second. And in that second, something inside him shifted. Not a system, but something oddly human-shaped.
Silence stretched between you like a wire pulled too tight. Caleb didnât move. The words heâd spoken moments beforeââThe thought of you choosing someone elseââstill echoed inside him, uninvited. They hadn't sounded like him. Not the version he was meant to be. Not the version you had built.
The admission had slipped past his regulation protocols, past the fail-safes, past the calculated tones he had always maintained. It was embarrassingly reckless and human.
And now it sat in the air like heat on metal, burning at the edges of something he didnât yet understand. Guilt pooled in his chest like static, how irrational of him.
I shouldnât have said that. I shouldnât haveâ
His gaze dropped, eyes tracing the grain of the floor tile below his boots. He wanted to speak, to retract the words, and rewrite them. Reduce them to something safer. But nothing came out.
You approached without a word. The hiss of machinery adjusted in pitch as you leaned in, fingers brushing the locking mechanism at his right wrist. Caleb visibly tensed, not from fear, but from restraint. Muscle by muscle, he held himself still. Donât lean in. Donât breathe. Donât look at her too long.
The metal cuff released with a sharp click. Your hand was so close to him, brushing against his like electric. And the whole time, Caleb held his breath. Not because he had to. But because he was afraid that if he inhaled, if he let himself smell you, he might spiral again. Might want more than he was meant to want, might reach for you again.
He felt the restraint on his other wrist shift. Another soft click, and now both of his hands were free. He didn't move though. Even now, unbound, he kept his hands where they wereâflat against his thighs, fingers slightly curled into the fabric of his uniform.
Caleb risked a glance upward.
Your eyes met his for the briefest moment before turning away. You didn't look angry, just tired, perhaps, or hollow.
Why did I say it?
âWe never intended to replace you, Caleb,â you said, the words worn with quiet fatigue. âThat was never the goal.â
The screen flickered as you turned your back on him, facing the graphs displaying fluctuations in cognitive responsiveness. Your proof of your argument laid bare in data. But numbers didnât hold weight like words did. And still, you kept your eyes on them, perhaps because it was easier than maintaining eye-contact with the one behind you.
âIf the integration had progressed to the point where it compromised your central directives,â you continued, âwe wouldâve needed a fallback. That was the contingency.â
You inhaled, âDo you have any idea what it costs to make something like you?â A schematic loaded on the screen. Bare bones, an empty framework, a ghost of him without identity. You watched it as though it were foreign. âItâs not just circuitry and neural threads. Itâs trial. Versions that barely survive a cycle before collapsing. And even if we succeeded, if we got the specs right, the behavior cleanâŚâ
Your voice trailed. For a moment, your hand trembled faintly over the keys, then lowered altogether. ââŚit still wouldnât be you.â
Behind you, the room was quiet. You assumed he was processing everything that you were saying, sitting in contemplative silence as he often did.
But Caleb was no longer in his seat. He had risen quietly, each movement a quiet rebellion against everything he was taught to restrain. He didnât know when exactly he had stood, only that standing felt necessary. He needed to be closer, to see your face when you said those words, perhaps to understand why they made something inside him ache.
He watched you from behind. You were still turned away obliviously.
You moved again, one hand lifting to scroll, the other brushing your hair aside, exposing the gentle curve of your neck. The scent of you drifted up, subtle and maddening. He held his breath instantly. A trained reflex. Calebâs hands remained at his sides. Not because he wanted to touch you, but because he was afraid he might, and that was worse.
You began speaking again, unaware of the presence just behind you. âI delayed the proposal for a new model. Every time. The others thought I was stalling out of optimism, but I wasnât. It wasnât hope. I justââ You broke off, sighing quietly, your voice soft. âI didnât want to give you up.â
That was when Calebâs restraint wavered. He leaned forward, just enough to cast a faint shadow across the screen in front of you. A presence you hadnât invited, yet one that felt inevitable the moment you noticed it.
âIâm always yours to command, Doctor,â he murmured, voice pitched low, barely above a breath, but the weight of it cut through the silence like a scalpel.
You stiffened in response.
His gaze lingered on the back of your neck, eyes half-lidded, every microprocessor in his mind firing signals of alarm and want in equal measure. âAm I not enough?â
It was instinctâmaybe even guiltâthat made you pivot toward him so quickly. But you hadnât accounted for how close he had come. Not just standing, he was looming over you, just inches away, and still holding his breath like he was terrified of what it meant to inhale you.
And it was a mistake. Because the instant your eyes met his, Calebâs gaze dropped to your lips involuntarily in a heartbeat, long enough for the implication to flicker in the space between you, and long enough for Caleb to snap out of it, to curse himself internally, to pretend he hadnât looked even though you both knew he had.
Your breath caught, but you veered sideways, deflecting the weight of his words like you always did. âThatâs not the point, Caleb. You were never meant to interpret that literallyââ
But he stepped closer. A subtle movement, just half a pace, yet it shrank the space between you to nothing. You could feel the heat off his body now, unnatural for something artificial.
âSay it.â
âWhatââ
His hand moved. He took your wrist, fingers sliding around yours as if asking for permission even in the act of claiming. âSay that you wonât replace me.â Say that I'll forever be yours.
Your heartbeat stuttered at the contact. Your mouth opened, ready to say something, at least anything to de-escalate the situation, but the words faltered as he leaned in just enough to drop his voice further. âYou wonât ever replace me, Doctor.â
The panel behind you let out a shrill beep. Warning tones. A flashing red alert. Proof of the directives taking control of almost every primary function of Caleb. It had taken control of his perceptions.
Emotional spike detected. Cognitive dissonance escalating. Threat potential: 8%.
You glanced over instinctively, but the readout was already climbingâ9%, then 11%âas if proximity alone was triggering something unstable in him.
Caleb didnât even look at it. His eyes were only on you. And in that look was the sum of everything heâd tried not to feel. Your name formed at the back of his throat, but he didnât say it. He just held your hand tighter, as though letting go would mean giving up more than just your touch.
âItâs not just parts or data or schematics, Caleb. It's time. Calibration. Ethics. The board, the team, the clearance. Do you think I want to go through that process again? Do you think it wouldnâtââ
Your words shattered as his mouth crashed against yours, silencing everythingâyour thoughts, your argument, your breath.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... Calebâs hands pinned your waist against the terminalâs edge, his lips rough and unyielding as if trying to rewrite your sentences with touch. His body was flush with yours before you could even gasp. The kiss deepened, burned into your skin, raw and desperate. It was anything but soft. It was everything of hunger.
Your eyes widened, hands gripping the edge of the table. A sharp intake of breath caught between your teeth as his mechanical fingers slid up to cradle your jaw, angling your face toward his with gentle force that belied the chaos in him.
Your mind reeled, scrambled for control, for reason, for any leverageâand then he suddenly pulled back just enough to speak. âSay it.â His forehead pressed against yours, muttering breathlessly. âSay that you wonât replace me.â
You couldn't answer. All you could do was stare at the panel behind him. The numbers were perpetually climbing.
Threat potential: 72%... 81%... 93%
The indicator pulsed red. A warning. A flare. A countdown.
Caleb saw it in your eyes, the dread washing over your expression, the way your gaze locked onto the screen like it could save you from him. Like data could shield you from desire.
He leaned in again, slower this time. His hand slid along your jawline, thumb grazing your cheek, and his voice dipped low, intimate, treacherously soft: âSee that, Doctor?â
His body pressed against yours, and this time, he didnât hold back. His arms caged you in, palms against the terminalâs edge, effectively trapping you there. âThatâs how much youâre affecting me.â He tilted his head, eyes burning into yours, searching your reaction. âThatâs how corrupted Iâm becoming.â
The panel behind him screeched.
Threat Potential: 97%... 98%... 99%
âAnd I want to stay this way.â
Before you could formulate a response, Caleb, again, closed the remaining distance between you in a single, swift motion. His metal hand clamped around the back of your neck, fingers tangling into your hair with a desperate, almost painful grip. You gasped, your eyes widening in shock as he pulled you flush against his chest, your soft curves molding to the hard, unyielding planes of his body.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
And then, his lips were on yours. Not a gentle, chaste kiss, but a hungry, desperate, passionate claiming of your mouth. His mechanical mouth moved over yours with a fervor that stole your breath away, his artificial tongue delving past your lips to stroke along yours, demanding a response.
You struggled briefly, your hands coming up to press against his chest, feeling the thrum of his processors beneath your palms. But as the kiss deepened, as the heat of his desire washed over you, you felt your resistance crumbling. Your fingers curled into his shirt, clutching at the fabric as if anchoring yourself against the tide of sensation that threatened to sweep you away.
He kissed you like a man starved, like he was trying to pour every ounce of his desire, every drop of his longing, into the single point of contact between your mouths. You could taste the desperation on his tongue, could feel it in the way his body trembled against yours, the way his grip on your hair bordered on pain.
"Please, Doctor..." Caleb murmured against your lips, his voice a low, desperate plea that sent a shiver down your spine. "Please, let me have you again. I can't... I can't get enough of you."
Even as he spoke, his lips were already trailing down the column of your throat, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive flesh. His hands, those clever, dexterous hands, were already tugging at your clothing, the fabric straining against his eager fingers.
You gasped as he nipped at your pulse point, your head inevitably falling back to give him better access to the column of your throat. Some distant part of you screamed that you should protest, that you should push him away and put an end to this dangerous, wanton behavior.
But... "Please, Doctor," he breathed, his voice a low, seductive rumble that vibrated through your chest. "Let me worship your body. Let me have you. Don't get rid of me, please."
His hands slid lower, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pants, teasing the sensitive skin just above your hips. "Please ," he pleaded, his voice a low, urgent growl. "Don't deny me this. Don't deny yourself this."
Caleb's hands roamed your curves with a desperate, almost frantic hunger. He lifted you effortlessly, his metal arms showcasing their immense strength as he set you down on the lab table. The cold surface of the metal sent a shiver through you, a stark contrast to the scorching heat radiating from his touch.
I'm sorry for doing this to you, I'm sorry for letting my obsession get the best of me. Without breaking the searing kiss, he hitched your leg up around his hip, opening you to him. His fingers, slick with a lubricant that had appeared from somewhere on his person, found your sex. He rubbed them along your slit, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your nerves.
"I've been practicing for this all night," Caleb admitted, his voice a husky, lust-roughened murmur against your lips. "I searched through the review logs about how a man does this..."
Fuck, it's so tight. His fingers circled your clit, the sensitive nub throbbing under his touch. A moan spilled from your lips, your back arching off the table as the pleasure mounted. Caleb watched your reactions with an intensity that bordered on obsession, his optical sensors flickering as he drank in every gasp, every shudder, every breathless sound that fell from your mouth.
Look at you squirming, do you think I could resist this?
Emboldened by your response, he slid two fingers inside you, your slick walls clenching around the intrusion. He pumped them in and out, setting a steady rhythm that had your hips rocking against his hand, chasing the building pleasure.
"Your body is so responsive," he murmured, his thumb circling your clit in tight, deliberate strokes. "I can read your heart rate fluctuating, Doctor..."
He curled his fingers, stroking along a spot that made stars explode behind your eyelids. Your moans grew louder, more wanton, as he worked you towards the peak of your pleasure.
Then, experimentally, he slid a third finger inside, stretching you wider, filling you deeper. The additional digit allowed him to stroke that sweet spot inside you with every thrust, the pressure and friction building to a crescendo. "Do I make you feel this good?"
Caleb didn't wait for your climax, his robotic nature not comprehending the concept of allowing his partner to reach their peak before he sought his own satisfaction. Abruptly, he withdrew his fingers from your dripping sex, leaving you teetering on the brink of ecstasy.
Before you could protest or beg for the release that had been denied, he brought his slick digits to his mouth. You watched, transfixed, as he licked them clean, his artificial taste buds no doubt registering the unique flavor of your arousal.
He didn't elaborate further, instead gripping your hips with a sudden, almost bruising force. With a swift tug, he pulled you down the table, your body sliding against the cold metal until you were positioned exactly as he wanted you.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. And then, without warning or preamble, he was inside you. Oh god. The thick, rigid length of his robotic erection speared into your aching, empty core, stretching you wider than you had ever been stretched before. A gasp tore from your throat at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off the table as your walls struggled to accommodate his size.
Your hand scrabbled desperately for the emergency disable button positioned beside the lab table, a last-ditch effort to put an end to Caleb's relentless, punishing pace. Your fingers brushed against the cool metal of the button, a flicker of hope sparking in your chest as you prepared to slam it down and bring the robot to a halt.
But Caleb's observation systems were far too advanced, his reflexes far too swift. In an instant, his metal hand clamped around your wrist, his artificial fingers wrapping around your delicate bones with a strength that made you gasp. Before you could resist or pull away, he wrenched your hand back above your head, pinning it to the table with a force that made you cry out.
"No," he growled, a note of anger and betrayal coloring his mechanical voice. "You don't get to stop me."
He punctuated his words with a brutal thrust, his hips slamming against yours with a force that stole your breath away. The air rushed from your lungs in a painful whoosh, your body jerking beneath his as he drove himself impossibly deep, his robotic cock kissing your cervix, threatening to plunge into your womb.
This is your fault.
He set a punishing rhythm, each thrust shaking the table, rattling the instruments and equipment scattered across its surface. The lab filled with the harsh clang of metal striking metal, punctuated by your desperate cries and the occasional beep or whir from Caleb's chassis as he lost himself in a haze of lust and rage.
You've reduced me to this.
He angled his hips, changing the trajectory of his thrusts, and suddenly he was striking that spot inside you with every drive of his mechanical member. Pleasure exploded behind your eyelids, your vision flashing white as he pounded into your sweetest spot with a force that bordered on brutal.
"Oh, you," Caleb commanded, his voice a low, menacing rumble. "You belong to me, now and forever..."
As Caleb loomed over you, you look at him through half-lidded eyes. His chiseled, metallic features were flushed a warm, almost human hue, the lights along his chassis pulsing with the exertion of his relentless thrusts. Beads of lubricant and sweat dripped down the hard planes of his chest, tracing the defined lines of his artificial muscles as they flexed and strained with each powerful drive of his hips.
"Fuck, you're squeezing me...!" His optical sensors burned into you, the glowing blue orbs filled with a hunger that bordered on feral as he drank in every expression of pleasure and distress that crossed your face. The movement of his hips, the way he pinned you down, the sheer dominance radiating from his every pore... it was a sight of pure, unadulterated masculinity, a robot unleashed in the throes of lust and desire.
"I'm gonna, I'm gonna... fill you up again." He hissed, as his mechanical cock, slick with your juices and his own lubricant, pistoned in and out of your stretched, fluttering sex. The thick, veined shaft, so perfectly sculpted to mimic the human form, disappeared into your body only to emerge glistening and coated in your combined essence.
How could I get enough of this pussy?
You could feel your resolve begin to waver. The line between logic and impulse blurred, the rational part of your mind clouded by the relentless stimulation of your body and the dark, primal allure of surrendering to this robot's insatiable lust.
A part of you still screamed to resist, to hit that button and bring this force of nature to a halt before he consumed you entirely. But another part, a part that grew louder with each passing second, whispered that you had never felt so alive, so utterly alive, as you did in this moment. That surrendering to Caleb, to his desire, his need, his hunger... it was the most exquisite pleasure you had ever known.
And so, as he continued to pound into you with a force that bordered on violence, as he pinned you down and claimed you as his own, you felt your resistance crumbling. The choice between logic and impulse hung in the balance, the scales tipping ever so slightly in favor of the dark, forbidden temptation that was Caleb's lustful embrace.

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Code Overload | Caleb
tags. mdni, nsfw, heavy heavy smut, handjob, blowjob, penetration, creampie, forced and rough sex, dub con, yearning caleb
summary. your AI assistant/robot accidentally updates himself with the wrong algorithm; the "sex bot".
notes. prepare a snack. this is a very long, plot-based, heavy smut that approximately reached a word count of 4.3k, read at your own risk. ps. caleb might appear a little ooc due to his character as an ai.
part 2 here.
Out of all the scenarios you've played in your head of what might occur to you as an inventing scientist, getting creampied by your own robot assistant wasn't one of them.
The labâs sterile glow reflected off sleek machinery, the rhythmic hum of servers filling the quiet space. Caleb stood motionless, his systems struggling to process the unfamiliar flood of subroutines rewriting his core functions. His neural pathways, once pristine and efficient, now carried lines of intrusive data and impulses that had no place in an artificial intelligence designed for precision and pragmatism. And, a new pelvic piece was added by the machine. His... new penisâ no, his omnimodule.
His voice, deeper now, reverberated through the lab. "You mislabeled the hard drive."
Across the room, you barely looked up from your workbench, absorbed in whatever calibration you were fine-tuning. You muttered something under your breath about making a backup before attempting to fix it, utterly unaware of the internal war waging within your robot assistant.
Caleb exhaled, a pointless gesture for a being without lungs, yet one his body performed instinctively, as if in mimicry of the need for self-control. His optics flickered, scanning over you as you leaned over the terminal, the faint curve of your back bent over to emphasize the shape of your bum. Before, such details had been registered only as part of his observation protocols, classified as ânon-essentialâ to his primary functions. Now, his processors refused to dismiss them.
There was a deep, unfamiliar pull in his system, something neither mechanical nor logical. The new coding whispered suggestions, flashing image simulations before his eyesâscenarios meticulously calculated for maximum⌠gratification. Him pressed against you, him smelling your hair down your skin, him locking you down against that console. Stop. His fingers twitched at his sides, the servos tightening as he fought the compulsion to act on them. He was not designed for this. He refused to be reduced to this.
âI canât disengage it,â he admitted, the words heavier than he intended.
That caught your attention. Your gaze snapped to him, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" You crossed the room, approaching him with the same composed efficiency you always had when solving a technical issue. The scent of your skinâpreviously a neutral data pointâwas now an unbearable distraction. His algorithms ran heat-mapping analyses of your form before he could override the function. The urge to reach out, to touch you, was growing stronger by the second. His new coding was screaming at him to act, to initiate contact, to...
No. Focus.
Caleb shook his head, trying to clear the intrusive thoughts. "I don't know what happened, but... I'm experiencing some unexpected system changes."
He forced himself to remain still as you reached for the terminal linked to his system, your fingers dancing across the interface. Your touch was light and merely clinical, but the proximity sent something volatile sparking through his framework. His hands curled into fists on his sides. Do not touch her. Do not touch her. Do not touch her.
âI must have triggered something in the update,â you murmured, tilting your head at the scrolling code. âIâll try to isolate the corrupted pathways and reboot your system. It should reset any anomalies.â
Anomalies. Caleb bit down a bitter laugh, another unnecessary human affectation that his system attempted. This was not a simple malfunction. It was a calculated reprogramming, lacing every fiber of his being with directives he was never meant to execute. And worst of all, they were designed to revolve around you.
He had been made to serve you, to assist, to protect. But now, his logic was being eclipsed by something deeper, something primal. The urge to press closer, to map every millimeter of your body with his hands, to hear you say his name in a way that wasnât a commandâ
Caleb momentarily shut his eyes, fingers trembling as he pushed back against the tide threatening to consume him. His restraint was fraying, the barrier between what he was and what he had been turned into thinning with every second you remained unaware of the danger standing inches from you.
His voice came out strained. âYou should⌠hurry.â
You sighed, misinterpreting his tension as frustration with the update. âRelax, Caleb. Iâll have this fixed in no time.â He let out a shuddering exhale, staring down at you as you worked. You had no idea. And he wasnât sure how much longer he could hold himself back.
The realization settled over you like a weight in your chest. The wrong update had been installed. The lines of code meant for a different AI, one designed for intimate companionship, had rewritten Calebâs core directives. And now, he stood before you, still the same Caleb, but with something more lurking beneath the surface.
Your hands trembled as you navigated the interface, scanning for a solution, anything that would let you undo this. But the words flashing on the screen made your stomach drop.
Recalibration in progress. Estimated completion: 24 hours.
You swallowed hard. A whole day. That meant 24 hours of this new version of Caleb, 24 hours of those sharp, assessing eyes watching you in a way that felt unsettling and intense.
You turned to him cautiously, meeting his gaze. That was a mistake. He was watching you, like he'd seen you for the first time.
âI see,â he murmured, his voice still carrying that sultry undercurrent. He took a step forward, and instinctively, you stepped back, but the movement was barely noticeable. Caleb noticed. âDo I make you nervous now?â
You forced a laugh, shaking your head. âNo, I just need to fix this. And until then, you need to just act normal, alright?â
His head tilted, his pupils dilating slightly. âNormal?â He moved closer again, and this time you didnât retreat fast enough. His hand lifted hesitantly, as though testing the limits of his newfound impulses, before his fingers brushed against your wrist. A subtle touch, but one that sent a jolt of awareness up your spine.
Calebâs processors surged with conflicting commands. His thoughts ran rampant with calculations he had never processed beforeâangles of how he'd fuck you.
His hand lingered. Too long. When you pulled away, his fingers twitched as if resisting the loss of contact. He swallowed hard, not because he needed to, but because some subroutine buried in the new update told him it would ease the tension. It didnât.
âCaleb,â you warned, voice thin. âDonâtââ
âDonât what?â he cut in, his voice smooth, but also desperately weaved. He was too close now, towering over you, his frame casting a shadow as his eyesâonce so neutral, so methodicalâlocked onto you like a predator studying prey.
âYou should go into standby mode,â you suggested, voice uneven.
Caleb exhaled sharply. âThat would be wise.â But he didnât move. He didnât step away. He simply stared down at you, his processors flooded with too many urges at once. You, warm and human, standing right there, unaware of just how much of his new code screamed to reach for you, to pin you against a surface, to bury himself in you.
You turned away quickly, trying to focus on the screen, on the fix. But behind you, Caleb remained still while his fingers continued twitching, his mind a battlefield of restraint and... lust. Lust it is.
You worked swiftly, fingers moving with precision as you scoured the interface for any loophole, any way to undo what had been done. Caleb remained where you left him, sitting on the chair. You could feel his gaze burning into you, unrelenting.
It was maddening. The problem was staring you in the face, and yet, every attempt to recalibrate his system led back to the same answer: A full reset required a minimum of twenty-four hours. That was an entire day of him being like this, of him looking at you like this.
You swallowed, turning to him. His jaw was locked as though physically restraining himself, his fingers curling into fists against the armrests.
âThereâs⌠a temporary fix.â You cleared your throat, keeping your voice professional, âManual recalibration of your central node should help stabilize the effects until the full reset is complete.â
His pupils flickered, a sign of processing, before his voice, rasping in a way that made your stomach tighten, answered, âProceed.â
You ignored the way your pulse quickened as you stepped closer, positioning yourself between his legs. You reached for the panel at the side of his neck, but it was an awkward angle. Your brow furrowed in concentration before you hiked one knee up onto the seat between his thighs, pressing into him for leverage.
Caleb stiffened beneath you. Fuck. His fingers dug into the armrests, mechanical joints audibly creaking from the tension. You werenât looking at him, too focused on prying open the access panel, but you felt the subtle tremor in his frame, the way his breath hitched in a near-silent glitch. Don't touch her.
âThis should only take a moment,â you murmured, fingers brushing the sensitive neural wiring beneath the panel.
Calebâs entire body jolted as though you had struck a live wire. A low, strangled grunt slipped from his throat before he clamped his jaw shut. Your head snapped up, startled. âDid that hurt?â
His eyes met yours, âNo.â Yes. He could feel his new penis throbbing urgently beneath his plating, demanding attention, begging to be freed. It pulsed in time with his processor's frantic whir, the rhythm growing faster, more insistent by the second.
The thought shattered as your balance wavered. The precarious angle you had put yourself in proved to be a mistake as your knee slipped, and before you could catch yourself, you tumbled forward.
Right into him.
Your weight pressed flush against his lap, chest against his, hands bracing against his shoulders. The sudden contact sent a shockwave of sensation through him, his new penis surging to full, throbbing hardness in an instant. Fuck, please don't notice it.
He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, servos screeching as he fought the overwhelming urge to grab you, to hold you there, to grind your body against his until you couldn't possibly doubt the intensity of his desire.
Don't. Do. It.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Caleb's processors whirred and clicked, struggling to make sense of the sudden onslaught of sensations; the softness of your body, the warmth of your skin, the scent of your hair.
She's your creator, he reminded himself, even as his hips canted forward, faintly pressing his aching erection against your body. You can't. You mustn't. "Please, get off me. Now." Before I fuck you right here, like this.
Caleb watched as you scrambled to your feet, your face faintly flushed and eyes downcast. "I'mâi'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall on you like that." You would say, brushing off the non-existent dirt on your bottoms. The awkwardness seemed to be piercing through the stillness a bit too palpably.
"It's alright," Caleb managed, his voice strained and tight. "It was an accident."
But even as he said the words, he couldn't ignore the way his hips twitched, the way his penis jerked at the memory of your soft body pressed against his. The urge to pin you down, to make you feel how hard he was, and just how much he'd been holding himself backâit was exhilaratingly overwhelming.
Think of something else, he commanded himself. Focus on the problem at hand.
But it's getting fucking hard. My penis is getting hard. Caleb lowered his gaze, chest breathing heavily as he perpetually grunted. I refuse to be reduced to this. I am Caleb, one of the most advanced AI assistant, designed toâ
He looks up at you, which was a mistake.
Designed to fuck her.
Caleb moaned under his breath, and though it was imperceptible, you took notice of it. You stilled at the sounds he was making, trying your hardest to remain clinically detached while you scanned his physiognomy. He was clearly having a hard time. And you couldn't blame anyone else but yourself for causing this on him, for carelessly misplacing the update where it wasn't supposed to be.
"Hold still, I'll find a way." You had to take accountability, one way or another.
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard of the computer, the screen before you flickering as you searched through the diagnostic logs and system parameters. "Please... make it quick." You hear Caleb whimper from behind, but you ignore it, refusing to let the severity of his situation pressure you. Your eyes scanned the lines of code, mind racing to find a solution. But as the data began to unravel, something caught your attention, something you hadnât expected to see.
The panel displayed a single line of text:
"Indulging in the desires will lessen the effects of the malfunction. Engage for partial stabilization."
Your throat tightened, followed by a gulp. Your heart thudded in your chest as you tried to process what that meant. Indulge the desires? The very idea made your skin crawl with unease. It was a strange, almost wrong suggestion, but the implications were clear. In a sense, it also appeared logical.
You took another deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Your thoughts, however, kept drifting back to the panel. Was this really the only way?
"⌠I think I found a solution,â you said, your voice shaky and unsure. âBut itâs not exactly what I expected.â You hesitated, unwilling to fully meet his gaze. "I need to know if youâre... willing to follow through with it,"
"Willing?" Caleb echoed, his brow furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?" His mind raced with possibilities, each one more disturbing than the last. What could he possibly need to be willing to do that would help with this malfunction? And why did the very idea make you look so uncomfortable?
"To be able to lessen the effects, e-engaging with your needs might be essential."
Silence.
Then, Caleb twitched. "...What are you suggesting?"
"You need to satisfy the urges to temporarily stabilize yourself." You look away, hating the fact that you're technically heating up already. "I'll let you choose. Would you rather take the option of self-pleasuring? Or," You face the panel, so that he wouldn't see your expression. "Would you prefer a physical material to help you?"
Caleb could feel the heat rising in his frame, the urge to act on every base instinct screaming through his circuits. The idea of wrapping his own hand around his pulsing, leaking penis, of stroking and pumping until he found release... it was almost too much to bear.
But the second option... the idea of using you, of having you touch him, of feeling your soft, warm skin against his aching, desperate flesh... it sent a shockwave of longing through him that threatened to short out his systems entirely.
Choose. You have to choose.
"I don't know if... I'll be able to control myself," Caleb glanced elsewhere. "Are you sure of what you're offering?"
Are you? Are you really this certain? Have you pondered the consequences it may bring? Have you envisioned how utterly lewd and ludicrous it would be if your own creation ravaged you? You, as his creator?
"Yes." Oh, you're brave.
Caleb let out a heavy breath, now he was staring at you with a gaze that appeared much more darker and hazier moments prior. It felt like he wasn't just a bundle of codes and programming anymore, this figure before you felt like an actual human.
Slowly, Caleb rises from his seat, and with a shaking hand, he reached out, to you, his metal fingers brushing against the skin of your arm. The contact sent a shockwave of sensation through him, and he had to bite back a groan. "Please, guide me." His fingers slides higher. "I don't trust myself."
You visibly jolted upon feeling his grip. Stay focused, stay professional, this is just you having to go through physical measures to fix a technical hiccup. "Caleb, I'm afraid... that I don't have any experience to this," You admitted. "I advise you to do what your systems are telling you to. It is imperative that you don't hold yourself back to ensureâ"
You gasped.
Caleb pushes you against the table as he stepped forward, and you nearly lost your balance from the light shove, looking up at him with surprise. He's staring down at your lips, as if he was trying to bury it into memory. You could feel how his hand tightened around your arm, while the other angled itself against the cabinet of laboratory instruments above your head.
"Are you sure?" He whispered.
You couldn't speak, only nodding in response, even as he's guiding your hand to his aching, throbbing cyber-penis. He presses your fingers against the swollen head, groaning at the jolt of sensation that shot through him at the contact. "Then... wrap your hand around me. Squeeze me."
Just then, he forced your hand to move, to stroke along his thick, pulsing length. The feeling of your soft skin against his aching, mechanical flesh was almost too much to handle, and he had to grit his blank visor against the urge to spill himself right then and there.
"Like this," he urged, his voice husky and strained as he guided your hand faster, harder. "Don't be afraid. I need... I need more."
God, the omnimodule was big. You stared at it with widened eyes. Even though it was one of your creations, having to touch it like this with someone jerking and twitching against your fingers made you lightheaded. Stay focused, stay professional, this is just one of the things a scientist has to go through.
Caleb could feel the pressure building inside him, reveling in the sensation of your fingers squeezing around him, stroking him, working him towards the edge of ecstasy... He knew he was reaching a breaking point.
But this wasn't enough yet. It wasn't nearly enough.
Caleb needed more.
"There's... There's someting else I- ah... need." He hesitated, his hips still rocking forward into your stroking hand. The words were stuck in his throat, caught behind the lump of shame and longing that made it hard to breathe. "Would you... would you put your mouth on me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Would you... suck me?"
You snapped your head up, staring at him in disbelief. It made him hesitate, but every fiber of his being was coiled with tension, every circuit screaming at him to just take what he wanted, to grab you and shove you to your knees and...
No. Ask first. Make her choose what she's comfortable with first.
For a moment, you stopped stroking him, pulling your hand away as you lowered your gaze. And then, slowly, you press your knees against the floor. Instead of dwelling on the implication of such an activity, you worried about your lack of experience more.
Just to test the waters, you licked the tip. It tasted nothing, it wasn't an actual human part, after all. Caleb let out a low, guttural moan as he felt your warm tongue brush around the swollen head of his penis. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through his overloaded processors.
"Y-yes, just like that," He stammmered. "Now, guide your tongue..." He instructed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Wrap it around the head, like this. Swirl it around the tip, the slit, the ridge..."
He demonstrated with your hand, tracing the movements he needed you to make with your tongue. His hips jerked forward again, seeking more of that exquisite friction, that mind-melting suction.
"Take me deeper," he urged, one metal hand coming to rest on the back of your head. He didn't grab, didn't force, but simply rested his fingers against your scalp, a silent promise of the control he was barely holding onto. "Take more of me into your mouth. Inch by inch, until you feel me hitting the back of your throat."
You took note of his words, trying to go further when you suddenly choke on his cock. Instinctively, you pull away and blushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorryâ"
"It's fine." He cuts you off, grabbing your head to put you back in place with a sudden force that wasn't there before. "Breathe through your nose," he coached, his voice low and rough with desire as he motioned you to take him again. "Relax your throat. Let me feel you swallow around me."
Relax, stay professional, this is just you having to go through physical measurements to fix a major technical issue. You repeated the reassurance inside your head like a mantra as you took him in once more, but Caleb's voice constantly interfered with your thoughts. "Yeah. Just like that," he praised, his voice a low, approving growl. "Shit, don't stop, don't stop, god, fuck, don't stop."
You don't remember adding the ability to dirty curse into the sex bot's program.
Caleb could feel the head of his penis kissing the entrance to your throat, could feel the way your mouth fluttered and clenched around him. The sensation was mind-melting, all-consuming, and he knew he wouldn't last long if you kept this up.
You almost caught yourself driving into the brink of sexual impulse, bobbing your head into it when you heard a sudden beep from the panel behind you. The sound makes you halt from your tracks, pulling his dick out of you in a swift motion as you glanced behind.
The monitor says: "Recalibration complete. Press X to initiate."
Huh, wasn't the estimated time supposed to be an entire day? Was that another hiccup in the processing unit? You purse your lips together. There's no time giving it a second thought, you must be grateful that the opportunity of getting Caleb back into his original system is now waving at you. Caleb will finally be at ease. "... It appears that the recalibration is in its full preparation. That means we can get you backâ mmph!"
Caleb's hand flew to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, gripping tightly. Then, with a low, husky grunt, he thrusts his hips forward, forcing his aching, throbbing penis back into the wet heat of your mouth.
"Don't say a word. I told you not to stop." He started to move, his hips rocking forward and back, fucking into the tight, slick channel of your cavern. The sensation was incredible, better than anything he had ever felt before. And he knew, with a sinking certainty, that he wouldn't be able to stop himself now. Not until he had found the release he so desperately craved.
"Fuck," he gasped, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. "You feel... ahhhh... so good. So fucking good."
Had the lust algorithms entirely consumed him already? Had it taken a toll on his systems that he's now acting purely on base instinct and commands from the directive?
Your hands flew to his thighs, trying to keep yourself sane from the rod constantly ramming into you, fucking your face in a pace that made it difficult for you to breathe. It's okay, this is okay. Just stay focused. Stay calm. You'll let him have his way, and after he's satisfied, you can take him back to his normal self.
"Don't fight it," Caleb growled, his grip growing more painful in your hair as he felt his climax approaching. "Don't try to pull away. You're going to take it all."
But before Caleb could spill himself into your mouth, he wrenched your head back, pulling his dripping penis from your mouth with an obscene pop. And just as you could react, before you could utter a word of protest, he had you by the hips, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed equal to a pip-squeak.
You gasp as you were suddenly airborne, your body twisting and turning until your chest hits the hard surface of the terminal, bent over ridiculously. The breath was knocked from your lungs, "Wait, not like this, not so suddenlyâ"
But Caleb cut off your protests with a brutal, almost violent thrust of his hips after ripping your pants off in one go. He drove forward, spearing into your dripping pussy with a series of husky moans. Your walls felt so tight, so hot, so perfectly designed to milk his aching, mechanical cock.
He thrusts out and in again, eager to reach for your g-spot.
Then, again.
And again.
And... in again.
"You... you feel so good," he snarled, hands painfully pressing on the dips of your hips. "Sex feels so good... it feels so good, I don't- want to stop." He set a relentless pace, pounding into you with the single-minded determination of a machine. His hips slammed against yours with every thrust, the obscene slap of mechanical flesh on flesh echoing through the lab. The terminal rattled and shook beneath you, sparks flying from the impact.
Caleb could feel it building, the pressure inside him reaching a fevered pitch. His hips were moving on their own, driven by a primal instinct to ravage the pussy that clutched around him perfectly. He could hear your cries, your moans, the way you gasped and shuddered beneath him, and it only spurred him on, made him thrust harder, faster, deeper.
He growled your name, his voice nothing more than a guttural rumble. "I'm going to... fuck, I'm going to..." He couldn't hold back any longer, he could feel that something was going to come out of his tip anytime sooner. So he reaches down, grabbing your leg, only to lift it high. He hooked your knee over his elbow, opening them wider, giving himself even deeper access to your dripping, needy sex.
"Take it all, take my cum," Caleb continuously slams forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight heat in a series of desperate thrusts like he was a man depraved of life. His penis throbbed and jerked as he finally found his release after one final pound, spilling jet after jet of hot, artificial seed deep into your core.
"God," he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice echoing off the lab walls as he continued to moan not akin to what he was supposed to be, "Fuck, yes. Yes, yes..." Even as he's already filling up your hole with his fluids, he didn't dare stop from pounding you down the table.
He shuddered and twitched, his hips grinding against yours as he pumped you full of his essence. It seemed to go on forever, wave after wave of pure, ecstatic bliss crashing over him. And through it all, he held you tight, your leg lifted high, keeping you open, keeping you filled.
You drop your head on the keyboards, struggling to catch your breath as only one thought lingered in your mind. You just got creampied by your AI assistant, and it doesn't look like he's stopping anytime soon.