boy nextdoor!Caleb asks you to make things official!
summary: caleb is cute and wants to make you hisssss. A continuation of my first boy nextdoor!Caleb fic.
cw: fluffiest of fluff, mentions of sex but no explicit smut. Very west coast-coded. Reader calls Caleb fat (lovingly)💀
Eight months ago, you and boy nextdoor!Caleb sat in the bed of his truck, splitting an order of carne asada fries, pretending the world wasn’t on fire. That going in different directions for college wasn’t going to kill you.
Truth be told, it came pretty close.
March was here, and thank the heavens above your spring break lined up with his. You’d spent all of winter quarter doing… long distance? Is it still considered long distance if he isn’t technically your boyfriend?
It’s not that either of you had commitment issues or anything. It’s just… after years of being best friends, it never occurred to you that what you had now was worthy of a different title.
Caleb was, or is, still your best friend. He just became your best friend that also knew you liked being woken up to his head between your legs.
Long distance wasn’t as bad as you’d expected. Texts and weekly phone calls made it tolerable. Although, a naughty text here and there always got you too worked up. And there was that night you watched him jerk off on FaceTime.
That’s a story for another time.
The point is, you were partaking in couple activities without the couple title. Which was fine, I mean, the boyfriend-girlfriend title is just a formality right? He’s still your Caleb. You’re loyal to him, he’s loyal to you, there’s no issues, right?
A couple weeks before the end of the quarter, when you had a break between midterms, you flew out to see him. It was perfect! You stayed in his dorm, you got to see one of his basketball games, he took you to his favorite spots around town, it was a very pleasantly uneventful break!
Until he introduced you to his friends.
Trivia night at the local pizza place. Vibes were high, apparently Caleb was the “Trivia Goat,” as his friends called him. The two of you were the last to arrive, everyone else already seated at the booth.
His friends immediately wave him down, smiles beaming and cheering for their trivia savior. His hand gives your hip a quick squeeze before interlacing his fingers with yours and leading you to the booth.
Caleb and his boys all do that weird handshake to back slap combo thing that guys seem to love doing to each other. After the rowdy bunch calms down a little, Caleb slips an arm around your shoulders.
“Guys, this is (name), my…”
He freezes, looking down at you with a lost expression. All of his friends gazes flick between the two of you.
Well, what are you? You think his friends know you’re sleeping together, so friend seems a little strange. Neighbor is even stranger, for sure. What the hell do you even call the relationship you guys have right now, if not boyfriend-girlfriend?
“My… girl!” He tries to save himself, but it’s clear there is some confusion amongst the group. It blows over almost instantly, the guys taking turns introducing themselves with the utmost politeness.
That moment had made you realize you needed a title. Not because it was hindering your relationship with Caleb, but because without the title, it made explaining your relationship very, very difficult.
Don’t get it twisted, Caleb had apologized in more ways than one that night. When he kissed you goodbye at the end of the trip, he promised he’d make it up to you.
That was before the end of winter quarter. You’d almost completely forgotten about the incident. Now you’re both back home, on spring break, nothing in the way of giving each other your complete attention.
“Can I have one of your rolled tacos?” Caleb asks from his spot in the drivers seat. His Tacoma was his second favorite girl, you holding the number one spot, obviously. You had picked up Mexican food and driven down to your favorite beach spot for sunset. Windows rolled down, letting the breeze carry in that nostalgic saltwater scent. Stereo on low, playing your playlist.
“Ask me again when you’ve finished your burrito, fatass.” He huffs, reaching into the white paper bag for yet another container of hot sauce. Eating in silence, the two of you just enjoyed the ambience of the warm sunset casting highlights of reds and pinks over the waves. Neither of you needed to be constantly speaking. Being together since you were in kindergarten, the company of one another was plenty.
Caleb inhaled his burrito, no surprise there. You, on the other hand, were taking your sweet time getting through three rolled tacos.
“Are you sure you don’t need help finishing those?” He pleaded, his best puppy dog eyes coming out to strengthen his request.
“You know I’m a slow eater! What the hell is with you tonight…” It’s true, Caleb had been a little antsy all afternoon. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet when he came and knocked on your door to pick you up. His fingers were mindlessly tapping on the steering wheel the entire drive, not even on beat to the music. Even his posture was a little more rigid than normal.
“I’m just hungry, Pips. I’m a big, growing boy.” He snorts over at you, boyish grin on his face. Shooting him a sideways glance as you take another bite of your food. After about two and a half rolled tacos, you throw in the towel.
“Alright, have at it, big guy.” You hand over the little styrofoam tray and he wastes no time going to town on your leftovers. Two big bites is all it takes him to scarf down the remainder of your rolled tacos.
“Is there anything on my face?” He turns to you, face shockingly devoid of any toppings. You still take the opportunity to kiss him.
“Yeah, let me get it.” You lean in to gently peck his lips. “You taste like sour cream.”
“I thought you like sour cream.” Another kiss.
“Never said I didn’t.” You say in between kisses.
Caleb pulls away and runs a hand through his hair, before taking a deep breath in.
“Do you wanna go sit on the sand? I have a blanket in my trunk.” He asks, gaze shifting from you to his rear view mirror.
“Sure.” Hopping out of the passenger seat, you make your way to the trunk, unlatching the cargo cover and releasing the tailgate.
To reveal all of your favorite things.
Candies, plushies, books you’ve been wanting to read, shopping bags from your favorite stores… are those packs of Pokemon cards? All surrounding a cute little sign.
“Can I be your boyfriend?” You read the sign aloud, just as Caleb comes around his side of the truck with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, lilies.
“Caleb…” You can’t fight the smile that spreads from ear to ear, hands coming up to cover your face. He sets the flowers on the open tailgate and pulls you into a total bear hug.
“Well?” Your face is buried in his chest, but you can hear the grin on his face. You put your chin on his pecs to look up at him, arms snaking around his torso.
“Of course I’ll let you be my boyfriend.” He immediately lifts you off your feet, spinning you around as you yelp in happiness. After a couple turns, he sets you down to sit on the tailgate, instantly coming to stand between your legs.
“Oh my god, you have no idea how nervous I was. Holy shit, I thought I was gonna vomit.” He leans his forehead against your shoulder.
“What? Did you think I was gonna say no?” You laugh, hand coming up to scratch his nape.
“I mean. Yeah, let’s be real, ‘no’ wasn’t an option. I just wanted things to be perfect. And like, I was worried everything was gonna get all jumbled when we were driving, I thought you were gonna see the flowers under my seat. And you were eating so fucking slow, I could barely sit still!” You giggle, head thrown back.
“I knew something was up! Acting like you had a two-by-four down your shirt when you were driving.” You exclaim, pressing a chaste kiss to his hair.
“I needed the sign to stay intact!”
“So you keep the driving steady, not your whole damn body!”
“I was one with the truck, Pips. Me and her were aligning our chakras for absolute cohesion.” You furrow your brows at him.
“Shake your head and tell me if you hear rocks.” That earns a boisterous laugh from Caleb. Using his hands to brace himself on either side of your hips.
“God, I can’t believe you said yes.”
“You just told me I didn’t have any other choice!”
“Yeah I did! But like… still! I can’t believe you’re my girlfriend now.”
“You’re such a dork.” You huff, pulling him into a kiss.
“Your dork, now.” He smiles against your lips, gentle kisses turning steamy as his tongue enters your mouth.
“Now you really can’t disappear without saying anything. Because I’ll have every right to hunt you down.” You tease. He throws his head back.
“I already made that up to you, times like, a million!”
“I’m just teasing, boyfriend.” You emphasize the title, shaking your head at him. Caleb kisses you one more time before pulling away to hand you the flowers resting on the tailgate. Taking a few steps back, he reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone.
“Smile for the picture!” You get a little camera-shy, but still posing nonetheless.
“Better not send that to anyone.” He rubs the back of his neck.
“Well, your Mom totally caught me setting everything up in the driveway. I told her I’d send a picture when you said yes.”
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the garden had become your favorite place without you even realizing it. what started as a few flower pots had slowly turned into winding rows of herbs, climbing jasmine wrapped around little wooden arches, strawberries peeking out beneath broad leaves, and tiny white butterflies that seemed convinced this little patch of earth belonged to them more than it belonged to you. caleb always joked that one day he’d come home and find you talking to the tomatoes like they were coworkers.
today wasn’t much different.
the afternoon sun settled warm across your shoulders while you knelt in the dirt, brushing loose soil away from the roots of your newest flowers before giving each plant one last drink of water. the breeze smelled like lavender and fresh grass, birds chirped somewhere beyond the fence, and the hammock stretched between two old trees swayed gently every time the wind passed through.
you only meant to sit down for a minute.
your hat slipped over your eyes as you leaned back into the hammock, fingers still smelling faintly of rosemary, and before you knew it your breathing slowed into something soft and even.
hours later the front gate clicked.
caleb stepped inside carrying his duffel over one shoulder, his colonel’s uniform still perfectly pressed despite what had probably been another exhausting day. he was halfway toward the house before he noticed the watering can sitting crooked on the path.
his eyes wandered toward the hammock. there you were, completely asleep.
one hand still loosely curled around a gardening glove. he smiled before he could stop himself.
“you really weren’t kidding when you said you were spending the afternoon out here,” caleb murmured as he set his duffel beside the porch, folding his arms while he admired you for another second.
you didn’t answer. your nose twitched a little.
a butterfly landed near your foot. caleb chuckled quietly before walking over, fully intending to scoop you into his arms and carry you inside before the evening air turned cool.
instead he stopped beside the hammock. it rocked lazily beneath your weight.
he looked at you. looked at the hammock. then back at you again.
“nah.”
he reached up and carefully unclipped the side enough to squeeze himself in beside you with far more effort than dignity, muttering under his breath every time his medals snagged on the fabric.
“who designs these uniforms,” caleb whispered as he shifted another inch, trying not to wake you while somehow fitting broad shoulders into a hammock obviously built for one person. the hammock dipped dramatically.
you instinctively rolled toward the new warmth without waking, your forehead finding the familiar place beneath his chin like you’d practiced it a thousand times.
caleb froze. his entire face softened.
“there you are,” caleb whispered as he wrapped one careful arm around your waist, making sure not to crush any flowers beneath his boots before kicking them off onto the grass.
you sighed happily in your sleep.
one of your hands lazily grabbed the front of his jacket.
caleb laughed under his breath before resting his cheek against the top of your head.
“guess i’m staying here.”
the breeze drifted through the trees. the hammock rocked. the sun dipped lower.
for the first time all week, the colonel let himself forget reports, missions, meetings, and responsibilities. he simply closed his eyes.
somewhere between golden hour and sunset, the two of you fell asleep together.
when you finally stirred, it was because something warm was breathing against your hair. your eyes blinked open slowly.
you frowned.
this wasn’t your pillow.
your fingers brushed heavy fabric covered in polished buttons. you looked up. caleb was still asleep.
his hair had fallen into his eyes, one arm securely around you, his uniform wrinkled beyond repair while leaves decorated one shoulder like tiny medals from the garden itself.you couldn’t help smiling.
you reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. his eyes opened almost immediately.
“caught you,” caleb mumbled with a sleepy grin as he caught your hand before you could pull away, pressing a lazy kiss against your knuckles.
you laughed quietly as you traced one of the creases in his sleeve. “you’re going to get dirt all over your uniform.”
caleb looked down at himself before glancing around at the flower beds, then back at you.
“already did,” caleb replied with a shrug that made the hammock sway. “seems worth it.”
you smiled so brightly your cheeks started hurting.
“you could’ve taken me inside.”
caleb studied your face for a moment before gently nudging his nose against yours.
“could have,” caleb admitted as his thumb lazily brushed circles against your side. “but then i’d miss finding you exactly like this.” your heart practically melted.
“i drooled, didn’t i.”
caleb bit his lip, failing miserably to hide his grin.
“maybe a little.”
you gasped, immediately trying to hide your face against his chest.
“don’t laugh.” feeling a bit embarrassed.
“I’m absolutely laughing,” caleb said as he wrapped both arms around you before you could escape, holding you tighter while your embarrassed groan disappeared into his jacket. “it’s cute.”
you pinched his side.
he yelped dramatically, you laughed louder.
the sound echoed through the garden until even the birds seemed to pause and listen.
caleb watched you for a long moment, smiling with that quiet look he only ever wore at home.
“welcome home,” you whispered as your fingers found his hand.
caleb intertwined your fingers without hesitation before bringing them to his lips for one more kiss.
“yeah,” caleb answered softly as he settled back into the hammock with you tucked safely against his side. “there you are.”
summary: Caleb was your neighbor, and absolute best friend growing up. But when your relationship reaches a fork in the road, everything crumbles. A selfish mistake leaves you both devastated. Will you forgive him? (spoiler: you definitely do.)
cw: angst?, smut, piv sex, no protection, virginity loss, missionary, teasing, aftercare, profanity, Caleb is the king of asking for consent. 18+ minors dni! Too lazy to proof read:P
boy nextdoor!Caleb who’s been there since you guys were children. Sitting under the big oak tree in your front yard, his grandma bringing cold, perfectly cut fruit for the two of you to snack on. Musing young Caleb’s wild black hair with a smile before heading back to finish preparing dinner.
boy nextdoor!Caleb who became your best friend. Same elementary, middle, and high school. The two of you were inseparable. You showed up to his basketball games in corny, homemade shirts, and over-the-top school spirited attire. He always made a big deal of asking you to the school dance. The bestest of friends.
boy nextdoor!Caleb who gets a hefty scholarship to go play basketball on the other side of the country. He seems hesitant, since you had already committed to a university only a few hours from home.
You tell him this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. To attend such a prestigious school on a full ride, to experience a different community, to be free! He would be a fool to not accept it. It’s with tears in his soft, sweet eyes that he finally agrees, and officially commits.
boy nextdoor!Caleb who spends his last few months at home just about glued to your hip. If people thought you guys were inseparable before, they would think you guys are dating now.
boy nextdoor!Caleb drives you two down to the beach in his beat up, 2006 Toyota Tacoma the night before he’s set to leave. You sit in the bed of his truck, splitting an order of carne asada fries, watching the sunset. It’s quiet. You barely spoke when he walked to your door to pick you up. And now you sit here in silence, both of you clearly distraught over the major life change that was happening too quickly.
“My flight is at 9, by the way.” Caleb breaks the silence, solemnly. His eyes still cast on the warm pinks and reds that dance over the blue horizon. You wipe your mouth on a napkin before peering over at him.
The Caleb sitting next to you had changed so much over the 14 years you had known him. The golden hues of the sunset helped to blur some old, teenage acne scars. His jaw was well defined and sharp, definitely a result of years of corrective orthodontic work. You’ll never forget how corny and irritating he was when he finally got his braces off. Gloating about how he was about to be the most good-looking guy in the school, and the girls were just gonna be swarming all over him.
A wave of jealousy washed over you. But you naively passed it off as irritation from his new found ego. Because why would you be jealous of your friend getting attention from other girls?
“Surprised you would book a flight that early, I rarely see you out of bed before 10.” You chuckle, trying to make light of the aggressively glum conversation. He finally looks over at you, and you can tell he’s holding back tears.
Not because his eyes are watering, or his lip is quivering. To a stranger, there’s nothing about his expression that gives away how he’s feeling. But after years of reading Caleb like a book, you know his giveaways. The shifty eyes, the biting of his inner cheek, the near imperceptible bouncing of his leg.
He pinches his lips together and looks down at his hands in his lap.
“I’m gonna miss you, Caleb.”
“I know, Pipsqueak.” But he just can’t bring himself to say it back.
Of course he’s going to miss you. He’s probably going miss you more than you miss him! It’s him who’s leaving after all. He just… can’t acknowledge that without it turning into a big sappy mess. And he knows that when it turns into that big sappy mess, of him being honest with you, he’s not getting on that airplane tomorrow.
And so he keeps his feelings balled up tight. Changes the subject to ask about how you’re feeling for university. Let’s you scold him for eating more than his half of the carne asada fries, even if he did pay for them. Gives you his zip-up when the sun finally disappears below the horizon, and the ocean breeze gets too chilly.
boy nextdoor!Caleb who fights for one last night of normalcy with you, because he knows your relationship will never be this comforting, this intimate, this homey, ever again.
boy nextdoor! Caleb who lies to you about when his flight takes off.
boy nextdoor!Caleb who couldn’t even bear to think about you waving goodbye at airport curb. He knew you would have insisted on taking him to the airport yourself. He knew that one tear running down your cheek would have had him cancelling his flight.
So he’d rather just not deal. So he’d rather tell you his flight was taking off an hour after it really was.
When you wake up to see him off, you already feel nauseous. Trudging through your front lawn to his front door, expecting a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Caleb to answer. But it’s Josephine.
“Don’t tell me he slept through his alarm.” You kid, oblivious to the truth. Josephine looks at you with furrowed brows and a confused expression.
“Dear, Caleb’s uber came and got him over an hour ago.”
…
What?
You let out a nervous, forced laugh. You poke your head into the house, hoping to see Caleb standing around the corner playing one more cruel prank on you.
The living room is empty.
“Very funny, Josephine. Did Caleb put you up to this?” Your voice is shaking. Tears are threatening to spill. Your hands are trembling in the pockets of the zip-up he left you last night. The one you slept in after he walked you back to your doorstep and hugged you just a little tighter than he normally does.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. He told me you had your reasons for not seeing him to the airport…”
You can see her lips moving, but your ears are ringing so loudly you can’t understand a word she’s saying. Your feet are carrying you through the house before you know it, pushing right past the small, frail woman. Bounding up the stairs, throwing the door to Caleb’s room open, to find it near bare.
His closet is significantly emptier than it was last week. His posters are gone. His bed sheets are the neatest you’ve ever seen them. His favorite model planes are missing from their spots on the shelves.
He’s gone.
He’s gone.
He’s gone and he couldn’t even say goodbye.
So many emotions run through your head. Devastation, confusion, betrayal, rage.
How could he put you in this situation? How could he be so selfish?
You’re crying before you can even register it. Your best friend. The one who used to let you eat all the red sour patch kids from every bag he got. The one who carried you a half mile on his back from the skatepark because you thought you could drop into the bowl with almost no skateboarding experience. His signature was the first, and the biggest one on your cast.
He was your rock, from when you were 6 years old and missing your front teeth, to when you were 17 and sneaking around the neighborhood with a plastic bottle full of shitty tequila.
You’d think those memories meant something. That your relationship was important enough to at least say goodbye.
boy nextdoor!Caleb who broke your heart without even being in a relationship.
Five months later
It’s your winter break. You made it through your first quarter of college. You had taken your last final yesterday, and immediately drove home for the 3 week break.
You’re helping your parents carry in groceries from the car. Christmas isn’t for another week, but of course your Mom still bought way too much food from the store. Can never be over prepared, as she says.
Standing in front of the trunk of your moms car, you look to your right to see Caleb’s truck still parked in Josephine’s driveway. It’s exactly where it was all those months ago when he just about vanished from the face of the earth. It’s covered in pollen and bird poops. The bed of the truck blanketed in a layer of dead leaves. It’s the dirtiest you’ve ever seen it. The Caleb you know would never let his beloved truck get this filthy.
Or maybe he would. After basically ghosting you all those months ago, you’re questioning if you ever knew him at all.
The last bag of groceries gets taken in, and you’re handing stuff to your mom as she reorganizes the fridge to make space.
“Josephine said Caleb gets in tomorrow afternoon.” She mentions, almost too nonchalantly. Your mom knows what happened. She was the one who held you when you came back to the house in tears after finding out he was gone.
You huff, trying to appear somewhat unphased.
“I’m sure Josephine is excited to see him.” You say, coolly. You know your Mom isn’t falling for the unbothered act. It’s more so for your own sanity. Digging into the crunchy grapes you carried through the door less than 10 minutes ago.
She arranges the last item on the shelf, shutting the refrigerator door and turning to face you.
“Honey.” She lets out a long sigh. “I invited them over for dinner.”
You immediately stop chewing the food in your mouth and meet her gaze.
“Huh?”
“Josephine is coming over for dinner tomorrow. And I told her to bring Caleb.”
A beat of silence, before nearly spitting out your food. It takes effort to finish chewing and swallow.
“Mom, are you being serious?” You try not to raise your voice at your mother, but you’re obviously upset. “I don’t want that selfish dick in my house!”
“One, language! And two, you don’t have to speak to him, but you will sit down and have dinner like a respectful young adult!” Your Mom points a finger towards the dining room table in emphasis.
“I know you’re still hurting, baby. But Josephine told me Caleb is having a hard time being so far away. He’s obviously hurting too.” She walks around the kitchen island to meet you. “You don’t have to talk to him tomorrow, but just show up for him. I think it would mean a lot.” Her gaze is soft as she cups your cheek for a second.
“He didn’t even want me to show up at the airport. Why should I show up for him now?” You spit, fighting back tears as you storm up to your room.
The next day, you’re just in a shit mood. You decide to take a walk around noon, hoping to enjoy the calmness of your childhood neighborhood. Dissociation gets the best of you, and you don’t get back home for another two hours.
When you get back home, you can’t help but notice the shining navy blue paint of Caleb’s truck. No pollen or bird poop to be found.
His car is clean.
Meaning he’s inside the house.
Part of you wants to stomp through the beautiful hydrangeas in his front yard, break that front door down, and give him a piece of your mind.
The other part of you doesn’t want him to know how bad you’ve been hurting.
How you’ve secretly missed his company more than anyone’s in the world.
How you compare him to all of your new college friends. How they never come close to understanding you like he did.
Fuck this.
You can’t let him know he’s under your skin. You have to show up to the dinner tonight. He will see how well you are doing. And when he comes running back to you, it will be your turn to break his heart.
Your Mother always does a little too much when she’s hosting. She definitely made way too much food for a casual dinner. Roast chicken, potatoes, brussels sprouts, the whole nine yards.
You come down from your room after spending hours getting ready, only to pull off the “I’m not even trying” look. Just enough makeup to make you look alive. Your hair is blowdried, but not styled. Picked out a very simple outfit, too. Just some lowrise bootcut jeans, and a navy blue long sleeve.
“Jesus, I thought we were only feeding Josephine and Caleb. Not the whole dang neighborhood.” You quip to your Mother as you enter the kitchen, seeing all the completed dishes waiting on the counter.
“It’s better to have too much food than not enough, sweetheart. We can always send them home with leftovers.” She responds as she does the finishing touches on a few dishes.
A knock on the front door sounds through the house.
Your Mom looks at you expectantly. But you make your way to the sink to start tucking dishes into the dishwasher.
She lets out a deep sigh as she wipes her hands down on a towel before making her way to the front door.
You hear her greet sweet, elderly Josephine. You hadn’t seen her since Thanksgiving break. She had also come over for dinner, since Caleb hadn’t come home. Their voices draw closer, but suddenly the dirty measuring cups and pots in the sink are much more interesting.
They enter the kitchen, and you still only hear two voices, your mom and Josephine. Did Caleb not show up? Was he too embarrassed to see you? You scoff to yourself. Not surprising, he couldn’t deal with you face-to-face once again. Shutting the water off and drying your hands, you think you’ve won.
You couldn’t be more wrong.
Because there he is, standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
Eyes staring directly at you.
It’s irritating how he looks like he’s doing great. His shoulders are a little broader, his posture a little straighter. Did he get taller?
Your Dad interrupts your inner monologue by giving Caleb a firm handshake. Since when has Caleb been taller than your Dad? You can’t pull your eyes away from their interaction, Caleb being nothing but polite, as usual.
Josephine is what saves you from your trance.
“Hello, dear. You look wonderful!” She coos sweetly, pulling you into a gentle hug. “The food looks great, Caleb and I are grateful to be invited into your home.” She smiles up at you.
“Please, it was Moms idea to invite you guys over. She prepared all the food. No thanks to me.” You sheepishly rub the back of your neck, suddenly feeling Caleb’s undivided attention on you from the other side of the room. A quick glance in his direction confirms your suspicion.
Your Dad is saying something to him, but his gaze flicks over to you every couple seconds.
“Well, however things panned out, we are happy to be here. Caleb was looking forward to this.”
It takes everything in you not to laugh.
Looking forward to this? And he can’t even grow the fucking balls to say hello? Just stare at you from across the room? You want to rip his head off.
You can’t even respond to Josephine, just a sweet smile, nod of your head, and back to scrubbing dishes.
It’s ridiculous. This whole situation is so laughable. What kind of fucked up, pussy ass bitch would—
“Scrub any harder and I think you might burn a hole through that cast iron.”
You freeze. Too afraid to turn around, but you can feel him not far behind you. Close enough to use a soft voice to get your attention.
Gently setting the pan and scrub brush into the sink, you stare at the suds.
“Hi, Pipsqueak.”
You want to slap him. You want to hold him tight and never let go. You want to scream in his face until your lungs give out. You want to stare at him until his features are burned into your retinas.
You opt for the safe option. The one where you simply ignore him.
When you turn around, you don’t even look at him, just shoulder past him. You try to shoulder check him, except he’s got about 8 inches of height on you, and another 60 pounds, at least. So much for the intimidation tactic.
He lets you pass. Doesn’t try to stop you, to say anything to you. He just watches as you walk, as unbothered as physically possible, out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom.
You lock the door behind you and turn to meet your reflection. Your face is red, and a little sweaty. Trembling hands find their way to the cold water knob. Not to splash water on your face, but to just hold them there. To let them turn a little numb. To give you something to focus on besides the boy in your kitchen.
When you can’t feel your fingers, you turn the water off and dry your hands. Running your fingers through your hair to tame some of the anxiety frizz. Straightening out your clothes, and putting on your best, fake smile in the mirror. Show time.
Your Dad and Caleb are seated at the table when you enter the kitchen, probably rambling about basketball or whatever. Your mother and Josephine are setting the prepared dishes on the table. Josephine takes the seat next to Caleb, and your mother takes the seat next to your father at the head. You sit next to your mother.
Mindless chatter fills the room as everyone serves themselves. Your father asking Caleb about life as a college athlete, balancing training with his academics, whatever. Your dad always seemed to like Caleb. Even after he abandoned you all those months ago.
“An athlete and an engineering student. How impressive!” Your dad clasps a big hand on Caleb’s shoulder, to which he sheepishly grins and shakes his head.
“It’s all at the expense of my social life.” He chuckles, starting to slice into a hunk of chicken.
“Surely you have some free time. These first few months are supposed to be the most fun.” Your Mom chimes in as she takes a sip of her wine.
“The big parties aren’t really my thing anyways. Just me, the gym, and my textbooks.” Lies. Caleb was literally part of student council in high school. He loved planning big events and wearing ridiculous, school-spirited costumes. Caleb was, without a doubt, the more sociable one between the two of you.
His eyes find you staring a hole through your plate. His comment feels very pointed. As if he trying to make sure you know there is absolutely nothing, or no one, in his life right now. Like he’s almost punishing himself.
“I’m sure you’ll find your people, Caleb.” Your Mother reassures him.
The rest of the meal is cordial. Your Dad acts like he missed Caleb more than anyone else in the world, asking him question after question. Josephine kept diverting the conversation to talk about you, what you were studying, how the new independence was treating you, how you were faring making new friends.
As suspected, there was way too much food left over. Caleb and your Dad stood by the front door while your Mom and Josephine packed some tupperwares to take back. You collected the plates and silverware from the table to wash.
“Thank you for helping, dear.” Josephine said with a kind smile, a soft, wrinkled hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Don’t be too in your head, now. I know you’re a kind girl.” And with that, she turned to make her way towards the front door.
Your parents bid them both goodbye, Caleb throwing one last look over his shoulder to where you stand in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Hoping to finally meet your gaze, yet your arms are crossed and the living room rug is the most interesting thing in the world, apparently.
Later that evening, when your parents had turned in for the night, you sat on your living room couch with your cheesy ass romantasy novel. The warm lighting from the Christmas tree creating the coziest ambiance. Grimy sweatshorts from your high school days, holey summer camp tshirt with the neckline cut out.
The zip-up he wrapped around you in the bed of his truck, the night before he disappeared. Smells like your laundry detergent now.
A quiet knock rings against the front door.
There’s only one person who would have the audacity to knock at a time like this. Unless it’s a murderer. Might be a better option at this point, though.
Your bare feet pad over to the door to look through the peephole. Before you can even look, Caleb’s voice comes through the door.
“I know you’re standing at the door, Pips.”
Did this guy have echolocation? X-ray vision?
“Can you just open it?”
Through the peephole, Caleb stands on your porch in a university-branded sweatshirt, black sweatpants, and his own house slippers. He looks directly at the peephole, and your breath hitches.
He sucks in a deep breath before shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Or don’t. Just… hear me out. Please.”
You think about unlocking the door. Think about how pathetic he probably feels standing on your porch at close to midnight. Think about how he’s probably freezing. He was always more of a warm weather guy, where you preferred the cold.
You don’t open the door. But you lean your forehead against it.
“I didn’t want to leave you. I was so afraid that college was going to turn us both into different people. I didn’t want to think about you not needing me in your life anymore.”
You swear you hear a sniffle.
“I was selfish. I was a coward. I thought running away would preserve what we have. Or had. That if I didn’t acknowledge it, everything would be just as I left it. I could come back and we’d still be… friends.”
You lift your head off the door and glance at the locked handle.
“I don’t want to be your friend, pips.”
Your hand is frozen on the knob.
“I don’t want things to be like when I left. I don’t want to keep thinking about what things would be like if we were… more than friends.”
You think you might start crying. You know Caleb already is.
“I just… I’ve known something was wrong. Getting that scholarship was just… I don’t know. It made me think of a life without you. And I hated it. I hated the idea of not having you with me. Not being able to look at your face, or hear your laugh, or smell your favorite perfume.”
That was almost a year ago. Just how long has he been feeling this way?
You begin to silently cry on the other side of the door.
“I kicked myself everyday for leaving. I couldn’t think about anything besides you. I wanted to know what you were doing. What classes you were taking. What you ate for breakfast.” Caleb takes a deep breath in.
“I wanted to know if you were talking to anyone. The idea of another man taking my place… I didn’t even know how to describe how I felt.”
Another sniffle comes through the door.
“That’s when I realized I couldn’t be your best friend anymore. That just running away and hoping everything would stay the same was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”
Your hand trembles on the cold, locked door handle.
“If you don’t wanna forgive me, that’s okay. I just can’t go on any longer with this tearing me apart from the inside out. I’d rather watch you live your life happily without me, than constantly think about the ‘what-ifs.’”
There’s a minute of silence. A strong exhale from Caleb’s side of the door.
You’ve never unlocked a door faster.
Caleb had taken about 5 steps down your lawn before the door got just about blown clean off the hinges. His head whips around, revealing his wet cheeks and red, puffy eyes.
There you are, standing in the doorway, just as red-eyed and puffy as him.
All he can do is stare at you, sniffling. You throw your hands out to your sides.
“You’re letting all the heat out.”
boy nextdoor!Caleb who nearly knocks the wind out of from how hard he collides with you, two big, strong arms wrapping around you. His face finds the crook of your neck.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” All he can do is say it over and over again into your hair, wetting it from his tears. You smack a hand on his back.
“You’re… suffocat—ing… me.” You say with a strained voice. He loosens his grip, hands sliding out from around you to rest on your waist. He pulls his face out of your neck to stand to his full height.
You think this is the most handsome he’s ever looked. Yearning, soft eyes swollen from crying. Thick, furrowed eyebrows. Lips pinched together.
Your hands reach up to thumb away his tears. He all but melts into your touch.
“Do that stupid shit again and I will actually fucking kill you.” You say sweetly. He laughs through his tears.
“Never again.” He smiles. As you both stand in your living room, trying to be as quiet as possible, laughing through sniffles and sobs, he soaks in all your beautiful features. The ones he hasn’t been able to admire this close up since that night he left.
Your sweet, kind eyes. Rounded cheeks. Straight nose. Your bright, beaming smile. Your lips.
Your perfectly pink lips. Perfectly full. Perfectly… kissable.
His gaze flicks from your lips to your face, leaning in an imperceptible distance.
“I…” he swallows. “Can I kiss you, please?”
Caleb’s hands tremble on your waist. Your eyes move to his lips as you gently nod.
boy nextdoor!Caleb who kisses you like it’s the easiest, most natural thing in his life.
He’s so soft. Your lips move and glide together like they’ve done this a million times. A warm, callused hands finds its way to the back of your neck as your smaller ones find purchase on his solid, broad chest.
His tongue runs against the seam of your lips, asking for permission. You invite him in, letting him explore your mouth. His hands snake down your body to cup the backs of your thighs.
“Jump.” He murmurs into your mouth. Which you do, so obediently.
Caleb hoists you up, your legs wrapping around his trim waist, arms hugging his neck. He begins to walk towards the couch.
You hear a door open upstairs. The two of you freeze.
“Honey?” Of course it’s your Dad. The floorboards creak as his footsteps draw closer to the staircase.
Caleb just about throws you onto the couch before quickly assessing the living room for the best hiding spot. He decides to simply duck behind where you’re sitting.
Just as he attempts to hide all 6’2 of him behind the couch, your Dads footsteps come into view. He comes about halfway down the stairs before sleepily surveying the room.
“Everything okay down here?” He rubs an eye.
“Yep! Just… trying to fall asleep!” You chirp, probably a bit too eagerly considering it’s past midnight. He scans the room.
“Ok, honey… just— just keep the TV volume low, alright?” He turns to go back up the stairs. Did he think you were watching TV?
“Will do, Dad. Goodnight!” Again with the over enthusiastic response. Your Dad throws a hand over his shoulder before wishing you goodnight, as well.
Caleb is smiling up at you where he lays on the floor. He wiggles his eyebrows. You bend down to smack him.
“Don’t give me that look, you prick.” You whisper-yell at him. He’s trying to block your smacks, keeping his giggles to a low. “You could have offered to tuck him into bed and he would have said yes, kiss-ass.”
“He would not.” Caleb grabs your wrists and pulls you down on top of him, preventing you from thudding against the hard wood floor. You squirm and continue to try and slap him, but he’s got your wrists pinned.
“Would to!” You’re straddling him, still whisper-yelling in his face. “Oh, Caleb, you’re an athlete and an engineering major. You’re so smart, please be my son!” You say in a mocking voice. “You guys were having total bromance the entire time we were eating, and you know I’m right.”
Caleb playfully rolls his eyes, placing your hands on either side of his head before settling his own on your hips.
“Just say you’re jealous and move on.” He smirks, looking so boyish from his spot under you.
“Jealous?! Jealous of what? Of you or my freaking Dad?” You arch an eyebrow, tilting your head down at him.
“Jealous of all the attention I was giving your Dad. Obviously.” His fingers lightly pinch your sides in emphasis.
“I’ll have you know I was the furthest thing from jealous. I was one comment away from smashing a plate over your head the entire night.”
He throws his head back in playful, silent laughter.
“Yeah? And where’s that hostility now, hmm?” He teases, earning him a flick to the forehead.
“Ouch, Pip—!” He groans, rather loudly. You clamp a hand over his mouth to shut him up.
“Shut the fuck up, Caleb! Do you want my Dad to come back down here?” You scold him, albeit with a smile on your face. His eyes crinkle, and you can feel his grin under your palm.
“Maybe he’d be nicer to me than you’re being right now.” He says from under your hand. You roll your eyes and move to get off him, but a strong arm wraps around your torso and flips you both. Caleb’s large, muscular frame looms over you. The warm, incandescent bulbs from the Christmas tree softening his features.
His intense gaze makes you shyly look away.
“Don’t look at me like that, it’s embarrassing…” you murmur. A warm hand cups your cheek to turn your face back towards him, before tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
“You’re so pretty.” His compliment makes your cheeks turn red. “You’ve always been the prettiest.” His hand on the side of your face is forcing you to hold his gaze. Uncomfortable under his attention and praise, you can do nothing but squirm.
“Caleb, stop…” An attempt to turn away is ruined by his thumb dragging over your chin, using his forefinger to pinch your jaw. A quiet exclamation of your name leaves his lips.
“Let me tell you how beautiful you are.”
You feel flustered and uneasy.
“I’ve never tried to be beautiful for you. You’ve never seen my beautiful side.”
“You don’t have to try for me. You’ve been beautiful ever since I met you. I thought you were beautiful when we were 9 and you had sand and strawberry ice cream all over your face after the beach. The same way I thought you were beautiful when we were 16 and I had to watch that water polo scumbag pick you up for your first date ever.” You can’t help but laugh. “Never liked that guy, by the way.” He adds, so matter-of-factly.
“You are the worst at holding grudges, you know that?” You reach up to pinch his nose. He just smiles and laughs. You love his smile. It’s just so… Caleb. You love his laugh.
You love Caleb.
You’ve always loved Caleb. You thought you loved him as a friend. Someone you could depend on to have your back through thick and thin. A shoulder to cry on. A set of ears to listen to your stupid, unimportant rants.
Five months apart changed your perspective. Caleb was more than that friend. Caleb was someone you wanted to grow old with. He was the person you wanted to come home to every night. The person you wanted to fold laundry and do your taxes with. Caleb was the person you saw yourself starting a family with.
Like he could hear your thoughts, he broke the moment of quiet with a whisper of your name.
“I love you. I love you so much.” He leans in to say against your lips, before kissing you so softly.
boy nextdoor!Caleb who kisses you exactly how you need to be kissed. His lips are soft, moving dominantly against yours to guide you. One forearm braced beside your head, the other hand gently squeezing your waist.
“I don’t wanna do this on my living room floor.” You mutter against his mouth. Caleb begins to trail kisses across your jaw, your neck, under your ear.
“Tell me where you wanna go, baby. I’ll take you anywhere right now.” Another wet kiss to your neck. He definitely just left a hickey. A small whine escapes you.
“My room,” is all you say before Caleb is effortlessly scooping you up off the floor. All four limbs wrapped around him like a koala as he ascends the stairs as quickly and silently as possible. No direction necessary, Caleb knows your house like the back of his hand.
He pushes his back against the door to open it, then his hand leaves your thigh for a split second to silently close and lock it behind him. Very carefully, he sets you onto your childhood, twin-sized mattress and climbs on top of you.
Caleb’s hips bracket yours as he wraps your legs around his waist. He wastes no time crashing his lips against yours. As his hips press against your core, you begin to feel his hardening length behind the layers of clothing. He feels big. Too big. A string of saliva connects your lips when he pulls away.
“You know, I used to have wet dreams about this exact scenario. About me getting to take care of you in this very bed.” His ears are pink at the admission, but he embraces it. Another hickey on your neck, right below your ear before he whispers.
“Dreamt about you screaming my name, too.” His tongue finds your earlobe. “But we will have to save that for another time. Need you to be quiet for me tonight.” The sensual voice in your ear makes you shudder.
Big, warm hands unzip the hoodie and dip under your shirt to trace the bottom of your ribs.
“Tell me to stop.” He whispers against your lips.
“Keep going.” You say, pulling him into the kiss with a hand carded through his hair. Caleb’s hands travel further up your ribcage to caress your breasts. One squeeze has you both moaning into each other’s mouths.
“Wanna see them.” He mutters against you while greedy hands bunch that ratty, summer camp tshirt up and over your perky tits. You feel him get a little harder when your chest is exposed to him.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You snort. He pinches a nipple in retaliation.
“Brat.” He teases before diving straight into sucking a tit into his mouth.
The sight before you is… indescribable. Caleb, the same guy who used to knock on your door and ask if your mom if you could come out to ride bikes, has his face buried in your tits. Grabbing, squeezing, pinching, drooling all over them. His hips are starting to slowly grind against yours, rubbing his fat erection on your heated core.
All in your childhood bed. There’s a trophy from an 8u recreational soccer team on a shelf next to a one-eyed, stuffed bunny. The literal shirt you’re wearing is from a summer camp you both went to when you were 14. Your parents are 15 feet down the hall.
Teeth gently clamp on your nipple and tug, instantly knocking the thoughts from your brain. He kisses, sucks, and bites his way back up your neck to your lips.
“Take this off.” You grab at the hem of his sweatshirt, before he swiftly pulls it over his head in one smooth move. You take the break to completely shed your zip-up and tshirt.
Has Caleb always been this fucking ripped?
Strong, rounded delts bracket a broad, solid chest. One, two, three… is that an 8-pack? His abs look mandoline-level sharp. A light trail of hair from his navel chases a few veins down his v-line, to below his waistband.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He quips in a mocking tone. You roll your eyes as he collapses back over you again, smiling into the kiss.
Exploratory hands roam every inch of each other’s bodies. His muscular, firm pecs press against your perky, cute tits. Warm, callused palms run up and down your waist, down to your hips, where they trace around to the front of your sweatshorts. Caleb lightly teases a finger underneath the drawstring.
“Is this okay?” His eyes find yours, full of want and hunger.
“Yes.” And his fingers immediately dip into your sweatshorts. He freezes for a moment.
“No panties?” He chuckles.
“It’s bad for your pH to wear panties to bed.” You retort, cheeky grin spanning your face. “And I didn’t know you were gonna show up and cry on my porch!”
“You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?” His boyish smile making his eyes crinkle.
“Nope.” You taunt, popping the “p” in emphasis.
“Cruel, cruel woman.” His smile beams as he presses his face in your neck, hand disappearing under your waistband.
Greedy kisses explore your neck as his long, dexterous fingers trace up and down your wet slit. Using his middle and ring fingers to draw featherlight circles on your clit. Caleb lifts his head to watch your expressions.
Your mouth slightly agape as quiet pants escape you. Your eyebrows pinches together in concentration, trying to be as silent as possible.
“You gotta tell me if I’m doing good, I— I’ve never done this before.” He hesitates for a second before coming clean with you.
“Yes, just keep going.” You gasp as he increases the pressure on the little bundle of nerves. His two fingers move down to circle your drooling hole, his thumb taking their place on your clit.
“Christ, you’re fucking soaked.” Caleb braces his free forearm beside your head. When his fingers finally push into your pussy, he can’t help but smile at your cute little gasps. “Feels good?” Your eyes squeeze shut as you nod mindlessly.
The hand that’s not scissoring your insides comes to pinch your cheeks together.
“Nuh-uh, Pips. Use your words like a big girl.” Your eyes open to see his smug expression, and it makes you blush even harder.
“I want to fuck you, Caleb.” He tries not to laugh too loud at your muffled request.
“I know, baby. Just a little longer.” He teases as his fingers continue to pump in and out of your squelching pussy.
The pressure from his thumb on your clit is dizzying. His two thick fingers massaging your walls are driving you wild. You want more.
Your small hand trails down his torso to try and dig into his sweatpants. With one hand, he grabs both of your wrists and pins them above his head.
“If you touch my dick right now, I am going to cum in my pants.” He states, not a hint of embarrassment in his voice. You whine at his rejection.
“Caaleeebb…” you whimper, that knot building in your tummy.
“Just cum for me. Cum for me one time and then I can fuck you. Okay?” His thumb moves and little faster, fingers driving a little deeper. “Let go, baby. Just let go.” He’s muttering against the side of your face, his own hips starting to buck erratically again.
Your nails dig into the sheets as your orgasm barrels towards you. All it takes is another soft kiss from Caleb, and the knot snaps. He swallows your moans with a bruising kiss, fingers still working you. When the pressure begins to dull, your hips instinctually buck away from his hand, clit too sensitive.
Caleb smiles ear to ear, obviously very proud of his handiwork. You pant and cover your face, embarrassment taking over. He pulls your hands away from your face, lacing your fingers together.
“Ready for more?” He grins as kiss after kiss is pressed to your cheeks, your jaw, your forehead.
“Mm, yeah…” You moan into a kiss, mind still a little fuzzy from your orgasm. Small, shaky hands start to push at his sweatpants, until Caleb gets the hint and pulls his sweats and boxers down in one go.
boy nextdoor!Caleb who is so achingly hard in your bed right now. Pretty, pink-tipped cock that is so fucking fat, it’s struggling to stand upright. Slightly curved upwards, veins pulsing as they dance upwards from base to tip. A dark, well groomed patch of hair dusting his base, sprawling out from the happy trail leading from his belly button.
You barely have time to admire before he’s placing a quick kiss to your navel and pulling your shorts off, too. Heavy thighs push against yours, coercing your legs to go up and over his elbows. A few thrusts have his leaking dick sliding through your wet folds.
“Wait.” He pauses, sitting back on his haunches. “Do you have a condom?” You blink up at him, the question totally pulling you from the moment.
“Why the fuck would I have condoms in my childhood bedroom?” You retort, moving to sit back on your elbows.
“I don’t fucking know what you were doing in high school!”
“What do you mean you don’t know? You say that like you weren’t attached to my fucking hip!” You’re whispering-yelling in each other’s faces now.
“You could have hooked up with that water polo prick for all I know!” Caleb is smiling. When is he not smiling?
“Don’t mention another guy when you’re about to fuck me! And I didn’t even kiss him, by the way!”
“I’m not going to fuck you if we can’t find a fucking condom! Don’t you remember anything from sex ed?”
“I’m on the pill, you moron!” He blinks down at you before running a hand through his hair.
“You could have lead with that!”
“Can you just fucking put it in?”
“Well, are you clean?”
“I’ve never fucking had sex with anyone!”
…
“Really?” He doesn’t mean it insultingly, like he doesn’t believe you. It’s more so said like he’s surprised.
“Yes, really. Can you stop interrogating me and just fuck me already?” He smirks to himself. “Stop smiling like that!”
“Like what?” He braces himself over you again and begins stroking his dick.
“Like… I don’t know! All smug and shit.” Your voice wavers when you feel his cock notch at your wet hole.
“You wanted me to be the one to fuck you for the first time, huh?” A kiss to your neck, before sucking another hickey. A small gasp escapes you when his tip breaches your winking hole, already squeezing him so tight. Caleb lets out a quiet groan. “Wanted your Caleb to take your little virginity.”
His fat cock slowly pushes in, your walls clamping down like a vice. A hand reaches down to rub your clit.
“Come on, let me in.” Moving to sit upright as one hand continues to work your little bundle of nerves, while the other pushes a leg up towards your chest. Pupils dilated as he watches his length disappear into you.
The stimulation on your clit has your hole softening for him, letting him slide all the way to the base. He moves both of your legs to rest on his elbows, in awe of the sight of you two connected.
“Holy shit.” He groans, throwing his head back.
“Caleb, fucking move.” You urge him, trying to move your hips for any kind of friction.
“Just… give me a second.” Thick cock splitting you open, your chest heaves in time with his. After a few moments, his hands come to brace on either side of you, legs still hooked over his elbows. His hips begin to gently thrust into you, cock coming out only an inch or two before sliding back in.
“Harder, Caleb.” You moan, pulling him into a kiss with a hand on his nape. He can’t help but moan in your open mouth.
“You’re gonna squeeze my dick off.” He grumbles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. With each thrust, he pulls out just a little more, until he’s sliding out nearly to his tip before pushing back in. “God, you feel so fucking good.”
“Better than your dreams?” You grin, still panting with each thrust. Caleb lets out a breathy laugh before pressing his face into your neck.
“Shut up.” He emphasizes with a particularly hard thrust, earning a loud moan from you. Your hand comes to cover your mouth, terrified of being heard. “Next time, I wanna hear you scream my name so loud.”
Next time. Your heart warms at the idea of there being a “next time.”
“Caaleeeb,” you whine.
“Yeah, Pips?”
Pips. The nickname he gave you when you were 7 at the summer county fair and you weren’t tall enough to ride any of the rides.
The contrast of the nostalgic name being used as a pet name in a time like this. When you’re both 19 and he’s rearranging your guts. It’s jarring.
“I love you, Caleb.”
His jaw drops open as an unfiltered groan escapes. You throw a hand over his mouth to muffle it.
“I love you so much, Caleb.” His eyes are so soft and full of yearning, mouth still covered as he drops his forehead onto your shoulder. “Never wanna leave you again…”
Thrusts turning animalistic and desperate, Caleb bites down on your shoulder to stifle his noises.
“I wanna cum together, baby. I’m so close.” You whisper in his ear, feeling him nod against your collarbone. His hips stutter once, twice, three times before you feel his warmth flood your pussy. The feeling of him filling you up so generously pushes you into your second orgasm of the night. You bite down on the back of your hand to keep quiet.
Caleb slumps on top of you, panting hard. His hair is damp with sweat, face totally red and glowy. You run a nail down his spine, and he shivers as he pulls out and rolls to your side.
“Fucking hell.” His gaze is fixed on the ceiling as he comes down from his high. “Does this mean you forgive me?” He laughs, turning his head to look at you. You shove his chest.
“I think you still owe me big time, crybaby.” A playful grin pulling your smile from ear to ear. He turns to his side, propping his head up on his elbow.
“I thought girls were into the emotional guy!” He bickers, smoothing a hand over your waist, trying not to openly ogle the mess between your legs.
“I’m kidding,” you push his hair out of his face. “Your big show was very sweet.” The hand on your waist pulls you into his embrace. “What would you have done if I didn’t open the door?” He rubs his chin in exaggerated thought.
“To be honest, that wasn’t even an option in my head. I probably would have slept on your porch until someone found me.”
“You’re such a weirdo.”
“You love it.” He smiles and pulls you into a soft kiss. After a short-lived makeout, Caleb moves to stand up.
“What kind of guy would I be if I didn’t clean up my girl?” He snorts, pulling his boxers back on. “Be right back.” And with a wink, he’s silently sliding out of your bedroom.
His girl. Caleb’s girl. You turn over and bury your face in the pillow to keep from squealing.
boy nextdoor!Caleb returns a few minutes later with a glass of ice water and a damp cloth. A sheepish, embarrassed grin on his face.
“I don’t think your Dad ever went back to sleep. I just ran into him in the kitchen.”
note: feedback is appreciated! send me an msg if u have any ideas/requests for what I write next!!
I just know Caleb does NOT fuck around when it comes to the 4th of July bbq. He gives that grill just as much attention as he would a jet. Does not rest or serve himself until he is absolutely certain everyone has a full plate and is happy with the food.
He also looks very handsome in his “Kiss the Cook” apron. 😩
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•°. An old aviation book and one innocent question about pilot jargon turned into the creation of the most important protocol Caleb had ever approved.
✧･ﾟ: Pairing: Caleb × Reader
✧･ﾟ: Contains: Tooth-rotting fluff, domestic life, established relationship, playful banter, aviation nerd Caleb, soft kisses, cuddles, light humor, and excessive amounts of affection.
✧･ﾟ: Author's Note: Caleb literally invaded my dreams just to give me an aviation lecture. I'm not kidding. He yapped about aviation communication for HOURS. I know ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about any of this, so I had to actually research everything afterward, sorry if its not acurrated ;p
✈︎ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆ ✈︎ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆ ✈︎
It was supposed to be a lazy afternoon.
Neither of you had plans for the first time in weeks—no official state dinners, no Fleet galas, no urgent strategic briefings. For once, the time was just for the two of you in Caleb's apartment.
Well, supposedly.
You lay stretched out across the sofa, idly scrolling through your datapad while Caleb sprawled beside you, one arm flung casually across the back of the couch as he stared out through the panoramic viewport overlooking the city.
Beyond the vast spectrum of blues and purples, the stars burned like innumerable pinpricks of light scattered across an inky canvas.
Nobody had bothered you for what had to be a new Fleet record.
Nearly twenty whole minutes.
Abruptly, the silence was broken by the chime of a priority incoming transmission.
Caleb immediately let out a weary sigh.
"Don't."
"I wasn't saying anything," you countered, raising an eyebrow.
"You were about to."
Another chime rang out.
And another.
A stark scarlet Fleet emblem flashed across his wristband.
Priority Command.
Caleb stared at the alert for a long beat before slowly exhaling.
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.
Before you could even ask what it was, Caleb muttered, "Classified."
He offered you a contrite look but didn't elaborate.
"That's bad, right?" you asked, a small pout tugging at your lips.
The notification flashed again.
Caleb slowly closed his eyes, the muscles in his jaw tightening.
"I'm going to need about an hour."
He rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger.
"That's what you always say."
You cocked an eyebrow, folding your arms across your chest.
"I mean it this time."
Caleb pushed himself to his feet.
"That's also what you always say," you muttered under your breath, pouting in earnest now.
"Unhelpful."
He held up a finger, amusement flickering beneath his exasperation.
You let out a soft snort of laughter.
Caleb stepped closer and rested his forehead briefly against yours, the warmth of his breath brushing your skin.
"Just... don't do anything that gets you into too much trouble."
"In your apartment?" you asked, raising an eyebrow with an expression of innocent, mock offense.
"I know you too well," he scoffed softly.
He stepped away, the office door sliding shut behind him with a quiet click.
Silence settled over the apartment.
It lasted all of three minutes before boredom inevitably found you.
You got to your feet, paced around the living area, contemplated the eternally shifting stars beyond the window, and reread all your recent messages.
Twice.
Your gaze eventually fell on one of the crammed bookshelves.
It was predominantly filled with technical manuals, but intermingled with them were a few classic novels: Sense and Sensibility, The Little Prince, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, and a couple of naval warfare texts that only Caleb could conceivably be fascinated by.
Then your attention was caught by a particular title: The Aviator's Almanac.
The cover, a darkened, weathered blue, clearly showed it had been well loved.
Driven by a nascent curiosity, you reached for it, surprised by its unexpected weight.
As you opened the first few pages, a small folded note slipped from the binding and landed on the floor at your feet.
Property of Caleb Xia. Cadet Year One.
You let out an amused chuckle.
"Oh, this is going to be good."
And indeed, it was.
The margins were filled with Caleb's sharp, meticulous handwriting.
Under a description of the Wright brothers, he'd scribbled:
"No reward without risk. The sky doesn't care if you're afraid."
You chuckled again, only to be interrupted by an instant message pinging on your phone.
Caleb: Ignore the notes.
A second message followed immediately.
Caleb: I was a pretentious academy kid.
You offered the security camera in the corner of the room a small smile and gave it a meek wave before typing your reply, sinking back into the comfort of the sofa.
Three dots appeared, vanished, and then reappeared.
Caleb: Please stop reading.
You threw your head back, laughing heartily this time.
You: No.
A moment of silence stretched into a prolonged pause.
Caleb: Traitor.
For the next half hour, you remained riveted to the sofa, immersed in the history of flight through Caleb's annotations.
The historical tidbits were indeed fascinating, but the personal musings offered an even more intriguing window into the man himself.
Periodically, an instant message would pop up on your phone.
Caleb: Still alive.
Caleb: Send help.
Caleb: And snacks.
You responded with an ever-growing—and increasingly passive-aggressive—arsenal of unimpressed emojis.
Eventually, you received another message from Caleb.
Caleb: Almost done. Five minutes.
Just as you turned the page, the office door slid open, and Caleb emerged, his sleeves rolled up and wearing the tired, battle-hardened expression of a colonel who had just endured a particularly arduous briefing.
The second his eyes landed on the book in your hands, he let out an audible groan.
"No."
You met his gaze, maintaining an expression of pure, unadulterated angelic bliss.
"Yes."
"You found the notes."
He crossed his arms, feigning a look of extreme disapproval.
"I found the notes."
You flashed him a widening, mischievous grin.
Caleb collapsed back onto the sofa beside you, burying his face in his hands.
"This relationship is founded entirely on betrayal."
"You're being overdramatic," you retorted, swatting playfully at his arm.
"Says the woman rummaging through my embarrassing academy journals." He scoffed.
"It's educational," you giggled.
"It is unequivocally not educational." Caleb shook his head, his lips pursed in fond exasperation.
You flipped to a random page.
"What's 'Roger'?"
Caleb blinked, a slight frown etching itself between his eyebrows.
"'Roger'?"
You pointed at a messy annotation in the margin, right next to a chapter detailing aviation communication protocols.
"Why do pilots say 'Roger' instead of just saying they received the message?"
A dangerous flicker ignited in Caleb's eyes—you knew, you knew you'd inadvertently tripped his aviation wire.
He leaned back against the cushions, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his lips.
"Oh," he murmured. "Oh, that's actually a really great question."
And just like that, another hour evaporated as Caleb expounded on everything from the nuances of "Roger" and "Wilco" to the critical importance of distinguishing between "Mayday" and "Pan-Pan," not to mention the strategic value of knowing your bogeys from your bandits and how to manage your joker and bingo fuel.
"So if I'm running low on Caleb kisses..."
He paused, instantly on high alert.
"Yeah?"
"...that's joker." You nodded with utter seriousness, your smile widening into a smirk.
Caleb simply stared at you, but his lips began to twitch upward into a hesitant smile.
Your smile widened. "And if I run completely out..."
A fond smile spread across Caleb's face. "Bingo."
A huge, rumbling laugh burst from him, his eyes crinkling with genuine mirth.
"That might be the best use of aviation terminology I've ever heard."
You preened, feeling remarkably clever.
Caleb shook his head, the deep laughter still resonating through his chest.
The two of you fell into a companionable silence for a beat, the warmth between you a palpable force in the air.
Then you tapped the cover of the book with your fingertip, your expression thoughtful, almost contemplative.
"Okay."
Your eyes twinkled with amused speculation.
"We're making a new one."
"A new one?" Caleb asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.
"A new one," you repeated, your mind working before finally settling on an idea. A mischievous smile spread across your lips.
You snuggled closer to him, tilting your head back and looking up at him with your best serious, completely business-like expression.
"How about... 'Situation Indigo'?"
A small, fond smile touched Caleb's lips.
"What does that mean?"
You gently touched your fingertips to his eyes.
"Indigo."
Then you pointed to yourself.
"And 'situation.'"
"Meaning...?" Caleb asked, the corners of his lips quirking upward.
"Meaning my need for Caleb has reached critical levels and requires your immediate attention." You paused for dramatic effect."And perhaps some strategic cuddles and kisses."
Your completely business-like expression never wavered.
Caleb burst into another fit of hearty laughter, while your expression settled into one of utter and complete smug satisfaction.
"Situation Indigo," you repeated to yourself, giving a tiny nod of approval. "Our new official pilot terminology."
"That's not official," he stated, shaking his head with fond amusement.
"It is now."
You looped your arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer.
"Fleet regulations are very clear."
"Oh, they are?" he asked, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you snugly against him.
"They are now," you giggled. "And how is this protocol supposed to be responded to, Colonel?" you asked with a wicked grin.
Caleb's smile softened as he wrapped one arm around you.
"Immediate deployment of affection."
"That sounds incredibly fake," you laughed softly.
"It absolutely is." He lean closer.
He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
"But it's my favorite protocol now."
You hummed in quiet approval, your fingers lightly curling into the fabric of his shirt as you looked up at him. Caleb met your gaze with that familiar soft smile that never failed to make your heart flutter.
Without another word, you closed the remaining distance between you and captured his lips in a slow, lingering kiss...
Summary: What does Caleb want to tell you? How are you going to get this money? Why are you both half naked suddenly?
Chapter 8
Chapter 9 - The Unexpected consequence
You turn up at Caleb's dorm at the appointed time.
You've been wracking your brains but you really can't imagine how he could come up with over 10 thousand credits.
Is he rich? Is he going to try and give you the money?
You can't possibly take it.
You try not to get too excited, knowing that things that sound too good to be true usually are. Money that seems too easy always comes with some kind of unexpected consequence.
Caleb opens the door.
“Hey, come in,” he says softly. He seems a little different than usual. His usual playfulness is nowhere to be seen. He seems almost shy. It makes you feel unsettled. Just what the hell is he planning?
You take a seat on the couch.
Caleb sits down next to you, but then immediately gets back up.
“Let’s go to my room,” he says nervously.
“What? Why?”
“You’ll understand when I tell you,”
You follow him down the hall. It smells like he just took a shower. At least you assume it was him since nobody else seems to be around.
He clears his throat.
“Uh, make yourself at home,” he says, gesturing for you to choose between his bed and his chair.
You take a seat at his desk, and he sits on the bed facing you.
There's two bottles of electrolyte sports drink sitting on his desk.
“Are you expecting the conversation to get energetic?” you joke.
“I'm expecting you to be already dehydrated, so start drinking. They're both for you. I don't need you passin’ out on me again.” he gets up and opens one, handing it to you. This is a little more like the Caleb you recognise. Pushy and a jerk.
You're actually pretty good at staying hydrated. You have to be. But you take it anyway and chug half of it in one go. It tastes like blue raspberry.
“Thanks. So…you have a secret hoard of credits for us to steal?”
“Kind of. If we play our cards right." He sits back down.
“What, like an underground poker game?”
It takes him a second to realise you're joking.
He pauses for a moment then lets out a breath, fiddling with the plastic lid from the electrolyte bottle.
“This is hard to say.”
“Why?”
“It might make you really mad. In fact, you should be mad, and if after all this you want some kind of revenge I'm there with you, but for now let's keep our eye on the prize,”
“Just spit it out!” you say. This is all starting to feel a bit melodramatic.
He takes another deep breath, then lays the whole thing out for you, including his own part in it.
You stare at him disbelievingly.
“A betting pool? Are you fucking kidding me? That's so teen romcom.”
“You're taking this more calmly than I expected,”
“I've done a lot of anger management,”
“Yet you're still so cranky!” he says.
“Only around annoying people,” you retort, rolling your eyes.
“You really had no idea about any of this?”
“I mean, I knew something was going on because my resting bitch face no longer deterred guys from hitting on me. I just thought it was some kind of dare…” you trail off, deep in thought. “How much did you say it is?”
“Fourteen thousand.”
You whistle. That's enough to pay for your flight lessons and keep you in fruit buns and modelling glue for at least six months even without your income from the military.
“We can just say we did it and split the money. What do you think?” he says, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip as he studies your face.
“What's your cut?” you say after a pause. He can’t read your expression.
He knows taking nothing at all would make you too suspicious.
“I’ll take a third. I have one condition, though. You have to pretend to be my girlfriend for a month.”
“What the hell for?!”
He folds his arms resolutely.
“I have a reputation to think about. I don't want people thinkin’ I'm just sleeping around. Doesn't it bother you if they think that about you?”
“No. It doesn't. What would ‘being your girlfriend’ entail?” You narrow your eyes at him.
He pretends to think for a second, as though he hasn’t played out this conversation in his head a million times. He starts counting off points on his fingers.
“Dates. Public displays of affection. Hugging, kissing.”
“No kissing.” you pipe up immediately.
“No french kissing. Limited normal kissing.” he counters.
“Closed mouth, only if absolutely necessary,” you fold your arms.
He gives you a devious look.
“Callin' me ‘gege’,”
“Absolutely never,”
“Yeesh, you drive a hard bargain. Alright then. Studying together. Holding hands. Accepting my help, for once. Eating dinner together.”
“I'm not doing all of that every day, I’ve got exams coming up.”
“Of course,” he says cheerfully. “I'll send you a schedule!”
“Or I go and record a sex tape with Owens and I don't have to do any of it,”
“Come on, please! Help me get all these girls off my back,” he looks at you pleadingly.
You stay quiet for a bit as though mulling it over, but really just watching him suffer.
“Hrm. I dunno. Can you sweeten the deal at all?”
“Weekly chicken wings?”
“Bi-weekly,”
“I’ll make them for you every night if you want!”
“Uh, that won’t be necessary,” you feel like you might be taking it a bit far if you accept that. As much as you’d eat those crispy, spicy wings every day of your god damn life if you could.
“Alright, fine. One month.”
You swear you can almost see a ghostly tail wagging behind him.
“Thank you Sun-sun. You won’t regret it,”
“I somehow doubt that. So now what? We send like a picture in bed together or something?”
“It's not that simple.” he says nervously. “We've gotta post, uh, proof.”
“What? Like…us naked?”
“No…like…us doing it. A video.”
Your eyes just about bug out of your head.
“I am not having sex with you.” You're starting to feel like his whole ‘plan’ was a scam to get you into bed.
“No, no.” he says quickly. “We just have to fake it. But we'll have to, uh, get close up to do it.”
You let out the breath you were holding.
“Fourteen thousand.” you say out loud, as if to convince yourself.
You figure you may as well do it now, before you lose your nerve.
Caleb sets his laptop up on his chair, facing the bed.
“How the hell are we going to do this? Have you got a strategy?” you ask. You haven’t the faintest idea how to pretend to fuck. It’s been years since you even did it for real.
“I’ve got a few ideas,” he says.
“Ok.” You start pacing back and forth next to his bed. “We just need to do it like they do in the movies, right? Just like…cheat it all with camera angles.”
“More or less. We need to make it look like I've hidden a camera though, so they don't think we're scamming them.”
You’re trying to stay focused on what you have to do here, but you’re also really pissed about this whole thing. Bunch of assholes treating you like some kind of prize pony. Pony that they’re trying to fuck.
“Fucking horsefuckers” you mutter.
“What?” he says, confused.
“They're the ones trying to scam me!” you say.
Caleb holds his hands up in innocence.
“I know. I'm just here to help you scam them back. And get my cut, of course.”
Of course, his cut isn't the money. It's a month-long opportunity to show you that you belong together. But he knows you'd never agree to that.
“If we're making a fake sex tape I want to at least look like we're good at sex.” you say.
“You don't think we would be?”
“We'll never know.” you say with finality. “If you try to pull anything funny while we're doing this I'm going to crack every one of your ribs.”
“Nothing funny, just friends with fake benefits. We’ll make it look good, don’t worry. Just roll with what I do.” he says, trying to quell the excitement that’s trying to come through in his smile.
“Is the camera ready to go?” you sound less excited. All business.
“Yeah it's good.” he says, opening the app on his phone that controls it remotely. “Do you want me to leave while you get undressed?”
“Seems a bit redundant given what we're about to do,” you say, trying to play it cooler than you feel as you strip off your t-shirt and cargoes.
You leave your bra on. If you’re going to show your tits to a chat full of perverts you may as well just go back to your brief stint as a cam girl.
You can feel Caleb’s eyes drag over your chest, lingering on you before he bends down and picks up your clothes.
He folds them neatly, putting them to one side of his desk.
He seems to notice something and leans forward, staring intently at your ass (which he heroically resists grabbing a handful of).
“Getting a good look there?” You raise an eyebrow at him.
“Do your panties have little spaceships on ‘em?”
You look down, blushing.
You'd forgotten what underpants you were wearing.
Tiny spaceships covering your perfect ass is about the cutest goddamn thing he's ever seen. He wants to pull them off you with his teeth.
He strips off his own shirt and jeans, chucking them unceremoniously over the back of his chair, leaving him in just a pair of boxer briefs. They don’t have any cute patterns on them, but they leave little to the imagination, and he looks better in them than you would ever say out loud.
How had you never noticed he had this much ass? You kind of want to slap it really hard just to see what kind of sound it makes.
He’s also a lot more ripped than you expected. Like, you could tell from how his clothes fit that he was built but you didn’t expect this.
You clear your throat awkwardly, aware that you’re staring.
“Should we um, get into the bed?”
Caleb nods and pulls back the neatly made covers. “Ladies first,”
You climb into the bed and settle back onto the pillow.
Why is his bed so soft and comfortable compared to yours? You guess the DAA doesn't cheap out on furniture much as the Infantry.
“Um, do you want to be on top or should I?”
“You,” you say immediately, mortified at the idea of straddling him and pretending to ride him.
You snap out of that thought as he says “You’ll need to uh,” and gestures to your closed legs.
“Oh, right,”
You part your thighs and feel the mattress shift. A nervous thrill runs through your stomach as he kneels between your legs.
For a moment he simply looks at you, as though memorising the image of you lying like this for him.
He lowers himself gently down on top of you, the silky skin of his abs meets yours, feeling warmer than you expected against your cold skin.
His weight pushes your thighs further apart, pressing you down into the mattress.
“This ok? I’m not too heavy?” he asks softly.
“It’s fine,” you say, a little too quickly, nervousness twisting in your gut. Why are you so goddamn nervous? It’s not like you’re a virgin, and this isn’t even real sex.
Caleb slowly rests his chest on yours, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder on the side furthest from the camera.
His breath is hot on your neck and your heart starts beating faster. Damn your stupid, sensitive neck.
“Do you have to breathe so much?” you say, trying to sound more annoyed than riled up.
“Yeah, if I want to live,” he laughs.
“Then just die instead,” you snap.
He laughs again and deliberately blows cool air onto your neck. You shiver, and little goosebumps raise on your neck and shoulders.
“Cut it out!” you say.
“Why? Don't like it? Or you like it a little too much?”
You already know how much he loves teasing you on any given day, and usually you can ignore it, but it’s much harder with him lying on top of you like this, his face so close to yours. It’s making you self conscious. Not least of all because he’s right, you do like it.
“You promised you wouldn't pull anything.” you sulk.
“It's not my fault you're cute when you're flustered.”
“I am not flustered.”
“Then why are your cheeks so red?”
“You should see your own face. Quit fucking around.” you grumble.
“Alright,” he says, raising himself up on his forearms and looking down at you.
You feel exposed under his warm gaze. You wouldn’t really consider yourself a shy or bashful person, but you’ve also never filmed a fake sex tape before either.
You reach up and tentatively wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, telling yourself it’s to make it look convincing but really you need something to anchor yourself.
You check the laptop screen, trying to remind yourself why you’re here. The angle seems fine.
You exhale, breath shaky with anxious anticipation.
“You ok? Am I crushing you?” he asks blinking down at you, his breath warm against your ear.
“I’m fine, just hurry up,” you say, closing your eyes.
“Ok. I’m gonna hit record from my phone then I’ll start, um, moving. Let me know if you want to stop, ok?” he sounds even more nervous than you feel. You find that somehow comforting.
After numerous attempts your hip joints are aching, but the footage still looks unconvincing.
“I didn't expect it to be this difficult,” Caleb says, frowning as he reviews the latest attempt.
No matter how you try to angle it, there's no way to hide the fact that you're clearly still wearing your underwear and that his hips aren't actually up against yours. It looks and feels awkward.
He hands you the other electrolyte drink now that you’ve finished the first one.
“We could just do it for real, I guess.” you mumble, taking a sip.
Caleb almost has a nosebleed on the spot.
“Don't say that!”
“Why not?”
You don't want to get entangled in a relationship, but meaningless sex for 14k? You can handle that, can't you? You don't even really like sex and you need this money…right?
He doesn't know how to explain the duality of his feelings. How he wants nothing more than to pin you by your wrists right now and fuck you into his mattress all night, but he wants it to mean something. He wants it to be because you belong to each other, not for some sordid bet. Good luck telling his cock that, though. He's so fucking hard it hurts. If you’ve noticed you are pointedly ignoring it (you have, and you are).
“We don't need to really do it, we just need to get a bit closer, but it might get a bit uh…intimate?” he says.
“It's whatever, let's do it.” you say without missing a beat.
Your nonchalance needles him, as though you consider him such a sexual nonentity that you're entirely comfortable with getting physically intimate so casually.
He doesn't know if that's how you really feel or if you're putting on a front but he intends to find out.
Caleb repositions the laptop as you lie back down on the bed.
You reach to take off your panties but his hand on the back of yours stops you.
“Let me do it on camera,” he suggests.
“Oh, yeah. Good idea.” A new kind of nervousness is starting to settle in the pit of your stomach. There's been a shift in the tone of this whole thing, now that you’ve agreed to make it more physical.
Your heart is drumming as Caleb settles himself back between your legs, this time putting his weight on you.
All the blood leaves his brain at once as he presses against you.
He shifts slightly and you start as you feel something shockingly hard between you.
“Are you bricked up right now?!”
He flushes.
“W-what do you think? You think I do this kind of thing every day?” his voice comes out shaky.
“I don't know what kind of things you do with your days. Christ, what are you packing down there? It's an absolute monster.” you say, shifting your hips trying to get comfortable with this massive thing pressing into you.
“S-shit. Don't do that!” he says.
“Do what?” you say, arching to stretch your stiff lower back.
“Sunny, for the love of god, please keep still.” he begs you.
You give him a devious look and roll your hips up against him.
He breathes in sharply, then leans in and bites you on the shoulder, making you yelp.
“Cut it out,” he growls as you smack him upside the head.
“Alright, oww! Don’t fucking bite me, you feral dog! Let's do this. I'm hungry.”
You settle down and put your arms around him again, your shoulder stinging where he bit you. You rest your hands on his lower back. His muscles twitch under your touch and you can’t help but run your fingertips over them a little. It makes Caleb shiver.
It’s a little hard to breathe with his chest pressed against you, but you’re distracted as his warm scent washes over you.
God, he smells good. He smells so incredibly good. Some kind of sporty deodorant, but also just the unique scent of his body is doing things to you that you'd rather it wasn't.
“Did you…did you just sniff me?”
Shit. Did you? You have no idea. You were completely lost inside your own head just now. It’s getting late and you’re starting to get tired.
“What? No!” you try to bluff.
“You did! You fucking pervert! Do I smell good?” He has the biggest, most annoying smile on his face.
“No, you don't. I was just wondering what that stench was.”
“You're a terrible liar, Sunny.”
“I'm a great liar, actually. You're just trying to shift the focus onto me because this is turning you on.”
“Of course it is. I'm almost naked and the prettiest girl I've ever seen is lying underneath me.”
You snort. “Come on.”
“What?”
“I saw two entire cheer squads trying to accost you at a basketball game,”
His eyes light up.
“You've been to my games?”
“I didn't come to watch you. I just like basketball.”
Though you have to admit he's impossible to ignore. He's as good at basketball as he is at everything else. He completely dominates every game.
“Cheerleaders aren't my type,” he says.
“Oh yeah? What's your type then?”
“Cranky. Mean. Likes me more than she'll let on.” he says, a teasing lilt to his voice.
You roll your eyes at him. “Are we going to do this or are you planning on lying between my legs all night?”
“Depends on if you'll let me, I'm pretty comfy here,” he shoots that million megawatt smile at you. You find it less annoying than you’d like.
“Get on with it!”
He hits record, then slides down and presses a kiss to the tattoo running up your side.
He runs the tip of his tongue along it gently before reaching down and hooking his fingers into the elastic of your cute little spaceship panties, his heart racing.
“Wait,” you say.
He stops immediately, looking up at you.
“Why don't we just cover ourselves with the quilt? People do it under the blankets, right?” you suggest.
“That…literally did not occur to me,” he says sheepishly, shuffling back up and pulling the covers up to obscure your lower halves.
“Me either,” you admit. You’re not exactly in your right mind and you assume he’s somewhat the same.
As Caleb covers you gently, arranging himself on you with care, you realise this is the first time you’ve actually been in someone’s bed like this. Most of your past hookups would just fuck you in the back of their car or a shitty hotel room. Nobody's ever thought you were the kind of girl worth bringing home.
You're not entirely sure that you are.
Caleb's disappointment at leaving your underwear on quickly dissipates at the sensation of the smooth skin of your belly against his. He slides his arms underneath your shoulders, pulling you tight against him and buries his face back into the crook of your neck, letting the weight of his hips rest on yours.
As he presses into you, you clutch at him without even realising, your fingers digging into his shoulders.
“God, you're so fucking pretty,” he murmurs against your neck, starting to press gentle kisses there.
“You can't s-speak in that direction,” you say a little breathlessly. You assume he’s saying it for the camera.
“Hmm?” he says in response, not stopping with his mouth now that he can see how it’s affecting you.
“You need to speak towards the mic if you want it to pick it up,” you say, trying to keep you both focused.
His lips on your neck are distracting you like crazy. He brushes a hot, open mouthed kiss over the mark where he bit you and you groan and roll your hips against him involuntarily.
“Fuck the mic,” he mutters, grinding back hard against you.
“What–hah–” you let out a shaky breath.
He keeps going, his control slipping at the feel of you against him with only the thin fabric between you stopping him from driving his aching cock deep into you, right where he belongs. He liked your cute panties at first, but right now he hates them with every fibre of his being. He wants to rip them off and watch them burn while he makes you come on his tongue.
He hears your breathing start to hitch and lifts himself up onto his forearms to watch you as he rocks into you.
A reddish flush spreads across your decolletage.
Is this what you look like when you're turned on?
He's completely absorbed in your responses, mesmerised, forgetting his own. No longer aware of what's building low in his belly.
With every movement of his hips your eyebrows knit slightly. Your eyes are closed, lashes fluttering almost imperceptibly with every thrust.
You're trying to hold yourself back, but you're starting to fail.
His hard length feels good sliding against you, so fucking good.
You open your eyes and peer up at him.
You're trying not to get swept away but he is breathtakingly pretty, glazed violet eyes meeting yours as he looks down at you through heavy lids and long lashes, lips parted slightly as he breathes with little “aah” noises. A cute reddish blush inks the bridge of his nose and his cheeks.
You lift your hips in response to his movements, letting out a small, restrained moan.
Caleb’s world comes crashing down.
“Oh fuck, fuck I'm gonna–” he lets out a lewd moan and comes in a hot flood onto your belly.
Still reeling from his orgasm, he looks down at you in a panic.
“Oh my god, shit, I'm sorry I didn't mean to…”
He grabs his shirt and scoops up the majority of the mess.
“Fuck, hold on, I'll get a cloth.”
He throws his pants on and runs to the bathroom on shaky legs, freaking out as he runs a cloth under lukewarm water.
You're going to hate him. You're never going to speak to him again. You barely tolerate him as it is.
He could only just get you to agree to fake dating and now he just came all over you.
He's so fucked.
He bursts back into his room where you're just waiting, still flushed and sitting up on your elbows, the remainder of his spend glistening on your pretty stomach.
“Here, I'll clean it so you don't have to touch it. I'm so sorry.” he says, leaning over you and starting to wipe away the mess. It tickles a bit, making you shiver.
You look up at his worried expression for a second and then burst out laughing.
You know you shouldn't laugh at him right now, it's mean, but the way he looks down at you like a puppy that just got caught eating your best shoes is the funniest thing you've ever seen and you will never let him live this down.
Caleb has rarely seen you laugh. He always tries to make you, but you're always too wound up. He stares at you in wonder.
You look beautiful when you laugh. Your entire face is lit up, eyes sparkling. Pretty teeth showing under soft lips.
“Aren’t you mad?”
“Did you do it on purpose?” you ask.
‘Of course not!” He sounds aghast.
“Then why would I be mad? I puked on your shoes, you came on my stomach. Now we're even.”
“You're being surprisingly cool about this.”
“You're not the first guy who ever came on me without asking. But you are the first to apologise for it.”
“So this is what it takes to make you laugh?”
“Apparently. Did we get what we need?”
He clicks through the footage.
“It looks like we have enough. If you don’t mind I’ll uh…cut that last part,”
“But that's the money shot!” you tease. You're lying on your side, propped up on your elbow. Seemingly completely aware of how lovely you look.
“Maybe we should cut it at you moaning for me” he bites back.
“It was all for the camera,” you say, languidly stretching your arms above your head.
“”Suuure it was.”
“Feed me,” you demand, pushing him with your foot.
“Alrighty, I'll go get some snacks. Be right back.”
He heads into the kitchen.
You roll over in his comfy bed, burying your face into his pillow. It has the same warm, comforting smell that he does.
You’re cold from having your upper half exposed, and from being wiped down with cool water, so you pull the soft quilt over you.
Caleb returns from the kitchen with some fresh pan fried dumplings to find you fast asleep in his bed.
He watches you for a minute, curled up like a little cat before he returns to the kitchen and packs the dumplings into the fridge. He can always reheat them later if you wake up hungry.
He quickly cleans up the cooking mess and returns to his room.
It’s past midnight now and he’s tired as hell himself.
He didn’t sleep all night last night thinking about this proposal and telling you about the bet.
He climbs into bed beside you, lying on his other pillow, watching you quietly sleeping.
You’re not frowning now. Just resting safe and cozy right beside him where you belong.
As much as he wants to pull you into his arms, he keeps his distance.
He turns to stare up at the ceiling. He’s still completely mortified by what happened.
He’d been so completely drunk on you that he hadn’t even noticed his dick slip out the top of his waistband until disaster had already struck.
You seemed fine about it at the time, but what if you change your mind and decide he's a creep?
He should probably go sleep on the couch. Being in the bed without you knowing he’s there feels a bit weird.
Just as he’s about to get up, you roll over and snuggle into him.
“Sunny?” he says, softly questioning.
“You’re warm,” you murmur.
“You feel cold?”
“Mhm,”
He wraps himself around you, trying to envelop you with as much of his warmth as he can.
You hum contentedly in his arms, and he drifts off to sleep.
You wake a while later in the dark hours of morning. It takes you a second to remember where you are.
You move to slip quietly out of bed but Caleb's arm around your waist pulls you back towards him.
“Stay,” he says into your hair, quietly imploring. His voice is hoarse with sleep.
It’s tempting. Incredibly so. To curl back into his warmth. What scares you is how easily you’re getting used to it.
cw: minimal cursing, slight angst, misunderstanding galore, it's really a bunch of fluff though dw, emcee being a supportive friend and typical younger sibling 😭
wc: 1,860
a/n: happy pride month to all my girls, gays, theys, and everybody in between <3 this fic is the result of being a queer applefish main (holy stereotype 😭) special shoutouts to @rafayelkisses @starkissedxav @violasepals @hirayalia for being amazing friends and betas i love you guys so much 🥹
Seven weeks.
That's all the time Caleb has. Until what, one might ask? His first anniversary, of course!
Skyhaven golden boy Caleb Xia has been dating Linkon's finest artist Rafayel Qi for 10 months and 13 days (yes, he's been counting), and he's still unable to wrap his head around the fact that not only does he have a boyfriend, said boyfriend is also one of the most coveted and well-known men on Mother Earth. Money, fame, glamour; you name it, Rafayel has it. So what is one supposed to get as an anniversary gift for the man who can get, well, anything?
The answer comes to him in the form of a social media ad.
Linkon Art Museum
Ever wanted to try your hand at the visual arts? Join classes at the Linkon Art Museum today!
You can't get the perfect gift for someone who can get everything, but you can sure as hell make one.
———
For someone known for being so confident, Caleb is feeling extremely jittery and nervous as he slips into his chair in the museum's conference room.
"Welcome, welcome! Everybody, welcome to our very first class! Today, we'll be covering the basics of watercolor, and at the end of these six weeks, you'll have yourself your very own watercolor painting!" The eccentric art teacher claps her hands and starts class.
And so begins the next 90 minutes of mental torture.
The very first lesson consists of familiarizing themselves with art and canvas techniques: wet-on-wet, color gradients, and simply learning how to use water on paper. He's crumpling up his sixth failed attempt at a sunset gradient when the instructor strolled over and took a seat across from him.
"Need any help?"
Caleb gives her an unimpressed look, "I'm a pilot. I excel in the sciences, not… whatever's happening here." He vaguely waves his hands over the mess on his table before running them through his hair in clear frustration.
She nods her head in agreement, "I can see why you're struggling. Why don't you take a break and tell me about yourself and why you joined the class?"
And take a break, he does. For the next ten minutes, he talks about his job, his boyfriend, but most of all, his fears that he won't be able to make their anniversary special.
"I just- I'm worried he won't like it. I know I'm just making myself paranoid and that he'd probably still appreciate the effort, but it's our very first anniversary, and I want to make it memorable for us," the pilot groans, evidently on the verge of tears.
"Well, don't worry! That's what I'm here for," the lady beams at him and rubs his hand to comfort him. "I'm not gonna let you down, and you don't want to let your boyfriend down, so why don't we work together to make this the artistic masterpiece you're dreaming of?"
———
For the next few weeks, Caleb attends class diligently and uses all 200% of his energy to focus on his angel of an art teacher's lessons on painting techniques. He almost feels bad for taking up all of her time during the classes, but he quickly gets rid of those thoughts by thinking of the look on Rafayel's face when he finally shows him the artwork he's been working on for so long. He's also been spending almost all of his free time watching videos and trying to master the art of watercolor.
Yeah, he really wants this to work.
Caleb is heading out for yet another session when he hears Rafayel's voice drift over from the living room, "Leaving again?"
"Yeah haha, you know how the friend group gets on the weekends," Caleb is praying to anyone who will listen that his panic doesn't escape through his voice.
Rafayel walks over and frowns, "I just feel like you haven't been spending any time with me lately. You're always either at work or with your friends instead of just taking a rest day with me."
"If I spent a whole day with you, neither of us would be getting any rest," he smirks and kisses the Lemurian on the top of his head. "I'll be back in a couple of hours. I love you."
Caleb catches a faint I love you too from inside before he slams the door shut on his way to his final class.
———
Caleb's best friend picked up after a couple rings, "Hey Rafayel! Haven't heard from you in a while! What's up?"
Rafayel chuckles, "Hi Gideon. I just wanted to check in on you and Caleb and everyone else. He said you guys were hanging out today?"
"No we're not… I actually haven't seen him in-person in a while. Even when we talk, it's just a few texts before he goes MIA again."
"W-what?" Rafayel's brain (and mouth) is going at 100 miles per minute. "He literally just left the house in a hurry like 'You know how the group meets up on weekends' or whatever bullshit he said."
"Have you tried checking his location?"
"I would if he didn't have it turned off every time he left the fucking house! Our anniversary is literally in a few da-"
Gideon starts panicking, "Okay, how about we take a deep breath? Maybe he's just out preparing a surprise gift?"
"For TWO months?" Rafayel screeches.
"You know how he is!" Gideon's grasping at straws. "Just- Just give him some time and confront him after tomorrow. I can promise you, it is absolutely not what you're thinking."
"Okay." he hangs up and flops onto his bed, letting out a deep groan.
———
The next time Caleb heads out for his lesson, Rafayel is prepared. With his handy sidekick, no less.
Emcee sighs, "Trust me, you're just overthinking it! Caleb is not that kind of person."
She's met with a nasty side-eye, "Well, you try basically being long-distance with your pilot boyfriend, and now that you finally have him, he's leaving all the time!"
"I think I know my brother better than you. You're literally wasting gas by just waiting in the car for him to show up."
"I think the fuck no- wait he's leaving."
As soon as they spot Caleb's car, the two commence their… investigation and immediately begin tailing him.
Ding! Caleb glances at his phone.
pipsqueak 🍎: ABORT ABORT
pipsqueak 🍎: WE'RE LITEARLLY FOLOWOING YOU
pipsqueak 🍎: ABORT MISSION
pipsqueak 🍎: I REPEAT
pipsqueak 🍎: ABORT MISSION !!!!!!!!!!!!!
Shit.
Meanwhile, Rafayel sneakily tries to peek at Emcee's phone, "Who ya texting?"
"Nunya," she turns his head away. "Keep your eyes on the road."
"Meanie," he huffs.
As Caleb attempts to lose his spies, he turns into an unassuming neighborhood, much to his lover's devastation.
"He probably has a friend here! Please don't cry," Emcee rubs Rafayel's back as she tries to comfort her friend.
"You know what," he immediately stops crying and glows as if he had an epiphany. "We don't need men! Fuck men!"
Emcee cheerfully nods in agreement, only to internally curse her brother out and lament her entire situation.
———
Luckily for Caleb, he managed to escape from them and still make it to his final-ever class on time.
Caleb holds up his finished watercolor painting: a breathtaking ocean in a sunset, a metaphor for his and Rafayel's bond and relationship.
"I knew you could do it! I'm truly so happy for you," his beloved art teacher gives him a quick squeeze on the shoulder before drifting away to praise the other students.
Finally. His hours and hours of anguish and frustration had paid off, and he'd created (what he thought) was the perfect gift for the love of his life. He was already giddy just thinking about how he was going to reveal it, completely unaware of the storm brewing in his boyfriend's mind.
———
Rafayel's aloof mood hasn't escaped Caleb, as he repeatedly questions him on the drive home from their dinner date.
"Caleb, I told you I'm fine! I just didn't sleep well last night," Rafayel exasperatedly answers.
"No, this isn't you not sleeping well. This is something else entirely. You've been so quiet all day, it feels like you didn't even want to celebrate today," Caleb pulls into the driveway and turns to look at the man in the passenger seat. "Please. Tell me. What's going on?"
"Well, maybe you should be telling me 'what's going on,'" Rafayel jumps out of the car, eager to get away from his boyfriend.
Caleb freezes in shock, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You tell me!" Rafayel throws his hands up in annoyance. "You've been the one lying to me about where you've been going for the last couple of months. You've barely been spending time with me. I mean, what are we doing? What's going on?"
Oh.
Oh.
Oh no.
It hits Caleb like a bucket of bricks.
"No. Nononono you've got it all wrong I promise. Let's just go inside and I'll show you what I've been working on."
Caleb leads Rafayel to a little corner in their closet, where he pulls out the framed watercolor painting he had been working on.
"W-what's this?" Rafayel speaks through his tears.
Caleb rubs the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish, "It's my gift to you. I wanted to make you something, and I wanted to keep it a surprise, so I lied to you instead. Sorry."
"Caleb, this is beautiful!" The artist chokes out. "This is a masterp- hold on I'm gonna hang this up in our bedroom first."
"Don't lie to me! It's not that good!" Caleb laughs and pulls the artist back.
"Lies. This is objectively better than anything I've ever made." Rafayel punctuates his statement with a kiss on Caleb's lips.
After hanging up the painting, he isn't able to hold back his contagious giggles.
"What's so funny?" Caleb asks with a chuckle of his own.
"It's just," Rafayel pushes Caleb towards the opposite corner of the closet. "If you'd looked around a little, you would've found your own gift."
The pilot raises an eyebrow, only to raise the other one too when he sees what his boyfriend got for him.
"No. Fucking. Way. Where'd you even find this?" Caleb stares at him in awe as he sees the limited-edition model airplane he's been wanting for ages.
Rafayel holds a finger up to his lips, "Magicians don't reveal their secrets."
"I love you so much," Caleb emphasized with a passionate kiss.
Later in the night, after they set the plane on display right next to the painting, Rafayel embraces Caleb from behind and kisses the back of his head.
"You know, for someone so book smart, you're sure as hell pretty stupid.”
"Wha-," Caleb turns around, a scandalized look on his face. "You're pretty stupid."
Rafayel pouts, "Well, if you'd let me finish, I would have said that you could've drawn me a crayon stick figure and I'd still love it."
"Absolutely not," Caleb kisses his forehead. "The love of my life deserves nothing less than the best."
"I guess I lucked out then. I already have the best."
The two lovers end their night with interlocked lips and starry eyes.
a/n pt.2: anyone catch the tucker carlson snl sneak…
