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calpalirwin · 4 years

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Snapshots and Snapbacks

Summary: It’s easy to flirt with someone when you don’t expect them to call your bluff

A/N: College!Cal

Content: Sexual situations/mentions, mentions of drinking/drugs, my usual bullshit

Word Count: 10.3K

And away, and away we go!

~~~

The first time Brooke saw Calum she almost gasped out loud. There was no way a young man could be that pretty. Then he spoke and her heart raced in her chest.

She spent most of that semester staring at the pretty boy with the prettier handwriting rather than the board.

When the semester ended, she had exchanged only a handful of words with Calum, but that didn’t matter. She hoped their paths would cross again and that she would be braver about pursuing a friendship at the very least.

Two semesters later, having nearly forgotten about the pretty boy who was held her interest a year ago, he strolled into her last class of the day, and her smile broke out in a wide grin. “Cal!” she waved, motioning to the empty desk next to her as all those feelings that had laid dormant bubbled to the surface once more. “Missed ya man!”

“Shit, what up, girl?” he smiled back, bro-slapping her hand in greeting. “Was starting to think you graduated.”

“Nah,” she laughed with a shake of her head, her hand tingling from the feel of his palm against hers. “Last semester, though.”

“Shit, look at you go!” he praised.

“Thank you, thank you,” she continued to laugh, brushing imaginary dirt off her shoulders, grinning when his laugh joined hers.

~~~

Her hand reached into her bag of pretzels at the same time a Vans-clad foot shoved the leg of her desk chair. “Pst!” Calum whispered loudly, giving her desk another nudge. “Pst!”

She turned slightly in her desk to look at him, his eyes crinkling around the edges from the wide grin on his face. She tilted her chin upwards in a silent question of “What?” and stifled a laugh when he held his hand out and pouted. She laughed quietly, shaking her head as she dumped some pretzels in his waiting hand, both of them stifling more laughs as the bag crinkled in the dark and quiet classroom.

That would not be the last class he stole her snacks, thereby deeming himself Cal the Snack Thief. She damn near lost in when she brought Teddy Grahams and he let out the loudest moan stuffing them into his mouth with a “I haven’t had these in FOREVER!”

~~~

“Hey, you stole my shirt,” she joked, pointing between the shirts they were both wearing: a grey NASA tee.

“Nah,” he grinned. “Bet I had mine longer, so technically you stole mine.”

She chuckled as she took her seat. “Fair, very fair.”

“Where’s your hat?” he asked, noticing the blonde streaks in her brown hair for the first time, wondering if she always had them as she always had her hair hidden by a hat.

She pushed a hand through her hair, the blonde more noticeable as her hair flashed under the lights. “Oh, I wore a beanie today cuz it was cold. But I took it off because it made me look like shit.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that it was you making the beanie look like shit, not the other way around?” he asked teasingly.

She reached over to give his shoulder a push. “Shut up, you jerk,” she laughed before swiping the hat he wore on his own head and putting it on her head. “There, now I have my hat,” she said, sticking out her tongue at him.

Calum let out a small gasp of disbelief. Unbeknownst to her, Calum also liked Brooke. He liked that she was quick-witted in every aspect; that she could go from voicing the most complexly profound thoughts to giving the snarkiest of retorts. And he’d be lying if he said that every time she mouthed off didn’t stir his dom side wild. Like now. She continued to smirk at him before turning to face forward in her desk, her hands coming to rest cockily behind her neck, fingers interlacing. He leaned forward and snatched his hat off her head. “Shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to us, Brooke,” he breathed in her ear, getting smug satisfaction at the way she shivered.

But then, that bratty look was on her face as she turned in her seat to fire back with “Says you, snack thief.”

~~~

She heard the footsteps running up behind her before Calum was letting loose a scream behind her. She laughed and pushed his shoulder, laughing more as he stumbled over his feet. “You scared me, you jerk!”

“Yeah?” he asked, his brown eyes shining proudly.

“No,” she admitted, pushing him again. “I heard you, dumbass. If you had grabbed me though, I probably would’ve screamed.”

“Aw, shit. I had my headphones in, forgot you could hear me running.”

“You idiot,” she chuckled, pushing him a third time while he danced away from her, half chuckles falling from his own lips.

“Skip with me,” he directed.

“Skip with you?”

“Yeah! C’mon!” And then he was skipping down the sidewalk. She laughed and followed suit. God, how he could be so cute and dorky while being sexy as hell was beyond her. And totally unfair.

“So, where you headed?” she asked as they stopped skipping and fell into a relaxed walking pace.

His shoulders shrugged as he gripped his backpack straps. “Was gonna play some pool. Did you know we have a game center on campus? It’s fuckin’ sick.”

She rolled her eyes. “You really are an idiot.”

“What?”

“DiD yOu KnOw We HaVe A gAmE cEnTeR oN cAmPuS?” she mocked. “Of course we have a game center.”

“Well, shit, I didn’t know about it until Monday, okay Miss Smartypants? Shit…”

“I’m teasing, you goof. But, pool, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m not very good. But it’s a good way to kill some time.”

“Aw, don’t wanna go home?” she teased.

“Not to 3 dudes, I don’t!”

“Aw, roommates, how cute.”

“Yeah, I’m a broke ass college student. ‘Course I got roommates. You don’t?”

“Nope,” she answered, popping the “p” sound. “I’m a RA so I get a single at a discount.”

“Nice, look at you, baller.”

She shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“You mean you can have sex without anyone bothering you, you mean.”

She gasped in shock, “Calum!”

It was his turn to shrug as he grinned dangerously. “Am I wrong?” he challenged.

“That is none of your business, sir,” Brooke laughed, grateful it was dark out so he couldn’t she the blush in her cheeks.

“Aw, c’mon, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“That we most definitely are,” she agreed, bypassing his original question. “And this is you,” she added, gesturing to the student center.

“This is me,” he confirmed. “See ya Monday, then?”

“Yeah, see ya in class,” she nodded. “Have fun.” Then, in a moment of bravery, she leaned for a hug.

His arm wrapped around her shoulders and she was slightly taken aback by the warm softness that radiated from such a strong arm. “See ya, girl,” he whispered as they broke apart.

By the time she let herself into her room, she had already sent him a friend request on Instagram and he had accepted.

~~~

Her fingers shook over her keyboard, the message chat open on her phone. She had been too shy to impose herself on his game of pool the other night. But he had said they were friends. Friends could play pool together.

Babbling_Brook: How’d playing pool by yourself go lol?

Calpal_hoodie: Lol! Actually one of the pool sharks in there came up to me and wanted to play some frames. It was a really good time.

Babbling_Brook: Oh shit that’s cool! We should play sometime before class lol. See if I still suck.

Her fingers shook with nerves as she waited for his message.

Calpal_hoodie: Haha down!

She let out a breath of relief. Good. He had agreed. Now to make it happen.

Babbling_Brook: Sick. I’m free before class for like 3 hours.

Calpal_hoodie: I have about an hour before.

Babbling_Brook: Sweet, I’ll be able to practice beforehand so I don’t make a total fool of myself lmao.

Calpal_hoodie: Lol! I’m nothing special, it’s okay

Babbling_Brook: We’ll see on Monday then who sucks more lmao

~~~

It was a slow drag to Monday and the impending date to shoot pool. It seemed to both like an eternity had taken place between Brooke’s last message Friday morning and her message Monday afternoon that included a picture of a pool table set up and waiting.

Babbling_Brook: Let’s go, playa!

Calpal_hoodie: I didn’t do the worksheet for class! After?

Her heart sank a little in her chest, but she wasn’t surprised her friend had procrastinated the idiotic assignment that was due every class.

Babbling_Brook: Do it in class lol

Calpal_hoodie: Lol! Sounds good! He doesn’t collect them until the end of class anyway.

Babbling_Brook: Exactly dude!

Calpal_hoodie: Dude! Did I tell you how I bought a new stick? Won’t be here til tomorrow though…

Babbling_Brook: Nice! Table’s set, btw.

“Oi! Over here!” Brooke called out across the room, recognizing that head of dark curls anywhere.

He broke out in a grin, as he hurried over to her. “What up, girl?” he asked, giving her a one-armed hug.

“Not much,” she said, gesturing to the pool table. “Wanna break?”

“Oh, we’re not playing 9-ball?” he asked, brown eyes scanning the table set up.

“No? Because I don’t know how?”

He nodded, placing the cue ball how he wanted, his pool cue sliding through his fingers. “After this, I’ll teach ya?” he asked, taking his shot, the balls clacking loudly, one sinking into a pocket.

She clicked her tongue in her cheek and nodded. “For sure.” Then, “I thought you were bad at this.”

He chuckled at her as he lined up his next shot. “I am. But I also watch a lot so…”

“Visual learner, nice,” she said, taking out her phone and snapping a picture of him leaning over the table. He missed and she moved around, plotting her own shot. “I learn by doing,” she admitted, taking her shot and missing. “Damn,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“Learn by doing, eh?” he smirked.

“Was about to turn that into a sex joke myself,” she laughed. Again, when he was busying himself with his turn, she snapped more photos of him. He quirked an eyebrow at her in silent question when he caught her on the third go-round. “What?” she asked, her cheeks flushing. “I like taking candids of my friends,” she half-lied, pocketing her phone. “I like capturing people in their element. Not posing for the camera or putting on a show. Just them being a hundred percent themselves.”

“Mhm,” he replied with a note of playful skepticism. Then, to make conversation, “You said you had a girlfriend, yeah?”

She laughed at the bold directness of the question. “What?! No!”

“No? Shit… I could’ve sworn… Aw, I’m so sorry!” he sputtered, his brown eyes wide and worried he had offended her. He was enveloping her in a hug before she knew it, his chest solid against her. “I love you! Don’t hate me!”

She laughed as they pulled apart. “I might have said I want a girlfriend, but I don’t actually have one. I wish.”

“You and me both,” he laughed. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

She waved him off. “Seriously man, it’s cool. You’re half right. I’m bi. It’s really fun to piss guys off by saying I’ve made out with more girls than they have. I mean, I’ve only made out with 2 girls. But still. You’d be surprised how many guys haven’t even done that.”

He nodded in appreciation. “Sick. So was it a boyfriend, then, and I just misheard?”

“Well…” she paused to think about it. “I mean, I’m seeing someone.”

He nodded and she detected the way his face fell for a moment. His face fell more when he sunk the 8 ball in the pocket and the cue ball followed. “Shit, good game.”

She laughed. “Thanks! It’s almost like you did all the work for me!”

“It’s cuz I did,” he laughed with her. “Alright, so 9-ball,” he started to explain as he set up the table. “You play with 9 balls.”

“Mmm, kinky,” Brooke snorted. “Continue.”

He rolled his eyes at her joke. “And you go in order. As long as you hit the first number in the sequence first, you’re good.”

Their game made them a few minutes late to their class, both of them giggling as the sped-walked across the room. “No, sit in front of me,” he whispered as she took her regular set in the row beside him.

She rolled her eyes but moved anyway, giggling more before reaching into her backpack to grab her snack. She pushed it to the bottom edge of her desk so he could reach. “More pool after class? Or you got plans?” she whispered, leaning back in her seat.

“Yeah, I’m down for a few games,” he whispered back, his hand reaching into the bag of teddy bear shaped graham crackers. Then, “So, you’ve only ever made out with chicks, but have you…?”

She gasped at the question he left hanging between them. “Yes, I’ve had sex. But only with one dude.”

“The one you’re seeing?”

She nodded. “And your body count?”

He snickered into his hand. “Way more than one.”

She turned, her eyes wide. She shouldn’t be surprised. He was a good looking guy. Too good looking if she could say so herself. Of course he was using it to his benefit.

~~~

“So, the guy?” he questioned, eyes trained on the pool table after class. “Must be good dick if he’s the only one?”

She laughed from her spot on the stool. “I guess? I mean, I wouldn’t know any different.”

“Aw, how cute,” he teased.

“Shut the fuck up,” she laughed at him, then put her hands on top of her head and sighed. “Fuck, I need to get fucked though.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Yeah. Haven’t seen him in like a week.”

“You seeing him tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit, what are you doing here playing pool with me for? Go get your dick girl!”

She rolled her eyes. “He hasn’t texted me he landed yet. I got time.”

“Long distance?”

She shook her head. “Nah, he was just traveling for work.”

“Nice,” he nodded. “So tits or ass?”

“My preference? As a girl with no ass herself, I’m a tit woman.”

He let out a chuckle of agreement. “No offense, but doesn’t seem like you got much tits either.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ll have you know my tits are huge.”

“Bullshit. What size?”

“Triple D, bitch!” she stated proudly.

“Bull-fuckin-shit! Bet that is the roomiest fuckin bra in the planet.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she smirked. “So, you a dom or a sub?” she asked, keeping the conversation going. If they were talking sex, she was going to get every inch, figuratively speaking.

He let his breathe in a sputtering huff as he thought, he hands raking through his curls. “Depends I guess.”

“Aw, you a switch?” she teased.

“Are you?” he challenged, equally playful.

She shrugged. “I’m a brat. Like I gave this guy the perfect chance to dom me and he flopped. It was kinda sad.”

He laughed. “What did you say?”

“I forget what started it. But I ended up asking what he was gonna do about it. And he just shrugged.”

His eyes went wide and his nose flared slightly at her words. “Oh yeah. Asking what I’m gonna do is gonna get the dom out. Like, excuse me?”

She laughed and shifted in her seat under his gaze. “Yeah! That’s what I expected was going to happen. But nope! What a shame.” She didn’t catch his muttered agreement as her phone buzzed. “Oh, yay! He landed.”

“Gotta go?” he asked, busying himself with taking his shot to hide his deflation.

“Nah,” she waved her hand. “We can finish the game. He’s still gotta get here.”

“Alright, for sure,” he said, perking back up again.

The game didn’t last much longer as Calum remained his innocence that he really wasn’t that good and Brooke proved that she actually wasn’t good. “Alright, I’m out,” she said, setting her pool stick aside. “See ya Wednesday?” she asked, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

“Yup,” he said, giving her another one armed hug. “Go get that dick.”

She laughed as they let go and walked off calling out, “I fuckin will!”

As she tidied up her room, waiting for her actual date, she sent Calum the pictures she had taken of him earlier.

Babbling_Brook: Some of the better shots I took

Calpal_hoodie: Nice! Had a great time. Let’s do it again, yeah?

She grinned at her phone before responding.

Babbling_Brook: Oh for fuckin sure. New after class ritual lol?

Calpal_hoodie: Down

Babbling_Brook: Sweet. We should try the little bowling thing they got. Maybe I can actually win lmao

Calpal_hoodie: You a good bowler?

Babbling_Brook: Nope! But my dude makes mini bowling alleys for a living so I like to think I got a slight advantage lol

Calpal_hoodie: Oh, gotcha! He home yet?

Babbling_Brook: Nah. He’s stopping to get us burgers first.

Calpal_hoodie: Animal style burger then fuck me animal style lol?

Babbling_Brook: He fuckin better!

Calpal_hoodie: Jesus lmao. Hahaha. Love it.

Babbling_Brook: Look, my hand and vibrator only do so much before a girl just needs a real dick. And THAT’S why I’m only half gay.

Calpal_hoodie: With the technology y’all have with vibrators… so much pressure is put on the men I’ll have you know. When a vibrator can hit “your spot” a million times without fail… it really sets us up for failure lmao

Babbling_Brook: Well maybe I have a romantic kink then lol. I need human touch more than I need a damn vibrator.

On the other side of campus, Calum hung his head sadly, wishing more than he cared to admit that he was the one providing her with that human touch she craved.

~~~

On Wednesday, Brooke carefully plotted her outfit. She was a bit bitter that Calum hadn’t believed her about her boob size, and she was determined to make him regret ever having doubted her.

She admired herself briefly in her tank top before she threw on her hoodie and hat.

~~~

She was leaving the gym and was headed for the game center when her phone pinged.

Calpal_hoodie: Syllabus doesn’t have a worksheet for today so guess who’s ditching?

Babbling_Brook: Bruh… so pool?

Calpal_hoodie: Yeah I’ll be playing pool until my pussy appointment later tonight. So like til 8 probs.

Her heart sank a little. But she supposed it was her fault for bragging about her own sex life.

Babbling_Brook: Shit, get it!

Calpal_hoodie: Yeah. So I’ll be playing with some of the pool sharks, but if you wanna swing by, I’ll play a few games with ya.

She chuckled and took a quick selfie of her with the pool tables behind her.

Babbling_Brook: “swing by later” bitch get on my level lmao

Calpal_hoodie: Haha! Okay I see you I see you.

Brooke chuckled to herself as she pocketed her phone and watched the door for him. She had shrugged herself free of the hoodie long ago, the Southern California weather providing more warmth than seemed logically possible for the middle of February. She drummed her fingers impatiently against her leg, her mind debating whether to get a table for herself or just to wait.

She narrowed her eyes when Calum finally did stroll in, and right past her, a man on a mission. Rather than storming over there like she wanted, she took out her phone and snapped more photos of him, enjoying seeing him in his element. Then, she picked up her things and strolled over.

“Just walk right by me, huh?” she greeted teasingly, her hand going to rest on his shoulder.

His brown eyes shined brightly and he grinned as he turned towards her familiar voice. “Hey! Shit, my bad,” he responded, wrapping her in his famous one-armed hug. “Must’ve walked right by you.”

“Yeah, I saw you walk by and was like really?”

“I’m sorry!” he laughed, pouting his lips at her. “Do you have a table?”

“Nah,” she waved her hand. “I’ll watch for a bit. We’ll play ourselves later.”

“Cool, for sure,” he nodded before engaging himself with the small group of guys already playing at the table.

She pretended to busy herself with her phone or studying the table, anything to distract herself from studying him. She had her back turned when his fingers brushing across her bare shoulder made her jump. “Nice tattoo,” he murmured as he retracted his light touch, her skin on fire.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, her cheeks flushing as her own fingers flew up to trace the sunflower his fingers had been tracing mere seconds ago. “I like yours too,” she added, pointing at his arms that held much more ink than her single small shoulder piece.

His soft chuckle tickled her ear as he stayed close behind her. “Also, I owe you an apology,” he said, his eyes darting downwards briefly. “I see it now with the tank top.”

“Told ya,” she smirked over her shoulder at him.

His eyes went wide in realization. “Wait! Did you wear a tank top on purpose?”

She scoffed and averted his gaze. “What? That’s ridiculous. No I- yes I did,” she laughed, not able to keep a straight face. “Did it work?” she asked with a hopeful voice.

He let out another soft chuckle in response, then, “Go set up a table. I’m almost done with this game.”

“Aw shit, are we keeping you from your girl?” one of the guys Calum had been playing with asked.

The two friends jumped apart. “What? No! We’re just friends!” they both blurted before Brooke walked off to the front desk to get a table for her and Calum.

“Sorry about that,” Calum said, a hand rubbing at his neck when she came back.

She waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. It’s harmless.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he chuckled. “Could you imagine though?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and slight smirk.

She laughed at his bluntness. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t,” she answered truthfully.

“Oh yeah?” he questioned, cocking his head to the side.

She shrugged. “You’re a good looking dude. I got a nice rack. I’m also smart as hell. We get along. Wouldn’t be a whole lot different than what we’re doing now.”

“Shit, I suppose you’re right. Too bad we’ll never know.” His shrug mirrored her own, his words meaning different things to each of them. To him, he was referring to her “seeing someone” and to her it was solidification that a guy like him would never go for a girl like her.

“Yup,” she said, just to have something to say as she lined up her shot.

“Here, can I tell you something?” he asked suddenly.

“Yeah, shoot,” she said, straightening up, intrigued.

“You bridge with your thumb,” he told her, pointing at her hand still resting on the pool table. “Which is fine because you can tilt it and such. But lie the rest of your knuckles flat on the table. It’ll give you steadier control.”

“Oh. Like this?” she checked, adjusting her hand slightly so her knuckles were flat against the green felt rather than tilted at an angle.

“Yeah, there you go.”

She bent back over the table to take her shot, fully aware of how heavy his gaze felt on her.

They remained quiet as they went about playing their game, minus the small muttered curses at a missed shot, exchanging soft smiles as they moved about the table and each other. When he won, he high-fived her. “Good game. You almost had me. Play by yourself for a bit and I’ll be back to check on you? I’m gonna go get in on another game with them if I can,” he said, jerking a thumb at the table in front of them.

“I’ll be here,” she smiled at him, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks at his mention of checking up on her. She lost herself in focusing on her own game, but her gaze still fluttered over to him more than she intended. And every time she looked away, he looked over at her.

“You good?” he asked, coming up behind her.

She pushed the strands of hair that were falling in her face out of the way, having discarded her hat a while ago. “Yup. How’s your game?”

“Oh we finished. But the other guy wants to play so here I am. Mind if I?” He let his gesturing finish his question as his large hand swept over the table.

She took a step back, “Go for it.”

Again, they didn’t say much. This time though, she busied herself with getting lost in the music playing from the speakers around the room, singing softly and moving her hips to the beat. He tried not to stare, but it was hard not to. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t get her off his mind. There was something in the way she just felt familiar to him, like he didn’t have to put on a show. He could just be, and she would just accept it, no questions asked.

He drummed his fingers against his thighs after he cleared the table, pondering his next move. “Alright, I’m heading back over there. But, uh…?”

Brooke chuckled. “Go do you. I’m fine.”

She played another two games by herself without Calum coming back. She set up for a third game, and left it there before walking over to where he was. “Hey,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder, feeling her heart race when he turned and grinned at her.

“Hey!”

“Hi,” she laughed at his happy nature, his eyes rimmed red.

“We’re a little high. Wanna hit?”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks.”

“Don’t smoke?”

“No.”

“Have you ever?”

“Once.”

“Nice! Oh, I’m gonna go get some food. You guys want anything?”

“I won’t say no to a cheese pizza. Since you’re offering.”

The other guy muttered something about how pizza sounded great, pulling out his wallet.

“Nah,” Calum waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it. I offered.”

“Ah, well shit. I’ll get next time then. I don’t like mooching.”

Brooke laughed and touched Calum’s shoulder again. “Oh, I don’t give a fuck about mooching.”

Calum laughed with her, before his eyes got playfully dark. “Venmo me, bitch.”

She laughed more, “Nah, I’ll pay you in other ways, yeah?” she teased , eyes darting to his lap.

The other guy clapped a hand to his mouth as he snorted in laughter. “Damn, you gonna suck his dick right here?”

Brooke ran a hand through her hair, “Cal wishes.”

“Right. You guys aren’t together. But like… would you?”

Brooke shrugged and opted for honesty, “Yeah, I’d fuck him.”

“Nice. And you?” he asked Calum.

“Me what?”

“Would you fuck her?”

“Given a chance? Oh, hell yeah.” He reached into his backpack and took a hit off a vape pen before walking off in search of pizza.

“So are you with someone else or is he?” the guy asked Brooke.

“Uh… little bit of both?” she said skeptically with a shrug as she took a seat on the stool.

He nodded. Then blinked. “Wait, what do you mean by that?”

“Well, I’ve been seeing someone for years. But weren’t not… serious I guess? More of like a super close friendship that involves sex.”

He nodded again, understanding better. “So dating without the label?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, I guess. And not for lack of trying on my part. I mean, I like the dude, obviously. But I’d also like to say I have a boyfriend.”

“Mhm. And that one?” he asked, jerking a thumb towards where Calum had wandered off.

“Oh, Cal’s single. He’s actually going to hook up with a chick later.”

“And that chick isn’t you?”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

“Why not? You just both admitted you’d fuck each other. You guys seem to get along. And he hasn’t stopped checking you out.”

She blushed. “I think I ruined it by telling him I was seeing someone. I think he thinks it’s an actual relationship. And I don’t know how to bring that up. Especially now. ‘Hey Cal, remember how we just said we’d fuck each other given a chance? Well, I’m actually single. Surprise!’? No. He’d think I was just saying it. And I’m not into people thinking I’m using them.”

The guy nodded for a third time. “Fair enough. Fuck, I’m so high right now. Shit, I gotta get to class. How long does it take to get pizza?”

Brooke chuckled as she pushed back her hair. “Want me to go check on him?”

“Would you mind?”

“Nah, not at all,” she said getting up. She would take any excuse to be with Calum.

Calum had a beer in his hand and was sitting at a table, his head down as he looked at the phone in his other hand. She couldn’t stop herself from suppressing the urge to place her hands on those squishy cheeks as she moved towards him but at the last second, her hands placed themselves on either side of his head, giving him a playful shake. “Hey!” he said, brightening up as he realized it was her. “I got a beer,” he added, showing her the beer in his hand. “The pizza should be out soon. I got a medium cuz it was cheaper.”

“Smart move,” she agreed. “I didn’t know you were even old enough to drink.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “I’m 22. My birthday was a couple weeks ago.”

“Shit yeah? I turned 22 back in December.”

“Aw, we like birthday buddies almost.”

“Almost yeah. Hey, I didn’t make things awkward when I admitted I’d sleep with you, did I?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, I admitted the same thing. We’re still cool.”

“Cool,” she smiled.

“So what’s up? Come to check on me?”

“Yeah, thought I’d keep you company. Plus the guy’s gotta get to class so he’s getting a bit impatient.”

Calum’s laugh rang out in the pizza shop. “Guess he’s gonna be late to class. But, tell him it shouldn’t be much longer?”

“Yeah, for sure,” she said, patting his shoulder before walking back to the game room.

“Aw, damn, was hoping you’d both come back,” the guy said, seeing only her return.

“Sorry, man. Cal got a medium cuz it was cheaper so he’s gotta wait. Should be done soon though.”

“Alright, no problem,” he had just enough time to respond before Calum was walking to them, a pizza box with plates in one hand and his beer in the other. “Awesome! Wish I didn’t have to grab and leave, but I gotta get going. Got a quiz.”

“No worries man,” Calum told him, handing the other man a plate and opening the box. “Sorry it took so long.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Thanks, man,” he said, loading his plate up with slices of pizza. “Catch ya later. Nice meeting you…” his voice faltered as he looked at Brooke.

“Brooke,” she supplied. “Nice meeting you too.”

“Yup. See ya guys.”

“Thanks for the pizza, Cal,” she said, putting a slice on the plate he handed her.

“No problem. Needed to eat something. Aw, he took like all the pepperoni,” he frowned at the box.

She looked at the box with him, her heart fluttering that half of it was cheese for her. “You could’ve gotten it all pepperoni.”

“But you wanted cheese,” he said, taking a sip of his beer.

“You’re cute, you know that?” she asked, being bold and taking a sip of his beer herself, wincing at the taste.

“Hey!” he laughed, snatching his beer back. “Getcha own beer.”

She made a face. “Yuck! You can keep it. Ugh. Nasty!”

“So you don’t drink either?”

She shook her head. “That makes me like the most boring person on the planet huh? College girl who doesn’t drink or smoke.”

“Nah,” he said with a shake of his head. “One of my roommates is the same way. So you just don’t like the taste or you scared?”

“Scared? I’m not scared of anything.”

He laughed. “No! I didn’t mean it like that. Not scared of anything, huh? Should’ve guessed. I just meant… some people don’t drink because they got a family history. So they’re more… aware of the choices they make. Or don’t make, I guess.”

“Is your roommate one of those people?”

“Yeah. Being an alcoholic scares him. Rightfully so. Shit’s scary.”

“You don’t seem scared yourself.”

He shrugged. “I like to think I know my limits. Like this will be the only drink I have.”

She nodded, approvingly. “I’m just not a big fan of the taste. But, I’ll drink every now and then. But even then, it’s barely enough to give me a buzz. I like being in control.”

“Ooo, a dom, eh?” his eyes danced playfully.

“Says the switch!” she laughed. “No. I’m just a brat. Don’t have enough confidence to actually be a dom. I’m all bark and no bite.” Her voice trailed off as they ate their pizza. When she caught him lip syncing to the music playing through the speakers, she spoke up, “Like this music?”

He nodded, a slight red tinge undertoning his tanned cheeks. “Yeah. But I’ll listen to just about anything.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I play and sing, so…”

“Yeah?! That’s awesome. What do you play?”

“Bass, mostly. My roommates and I are actually in a band.”

“No shit?” she asked. “Would love to watch you play sometime then.”

“Yeah? Shit, I’ll tell you next time we practice, then,” he promised, reaching into the pizza box. “Aw, shit, is there any left?”

She nodded. “Should be one more.”

“Yeah? How many did you have?”

“This is my third.”

“That was my fourth. Last one’s yours then.”

She shook her head. “No. You bought it. You take it. I’m good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Game?”

“For sure,” he nodded, taking a big bite of the slice.

They played at a slow pace, taking their time. At one point he went back to his pizza slice to take a bite, but held it out to her in offering. She grinned and instead of taking it from his hands like he expected, she leaned down and tore off a piece with her teeth. “Thanks,” she continued to grin around the bite, making him laugh. They loved how easy it felt to be around each other, quirky banter without any sense of awkwardness or trying to impress the other. Just straight up honesty at every turn.

“Ugh!” he muttered in frustration as he missed what seemed like an easy shot even for her. “I’m getting mad!”

She covered her mouth with her hand and giggled so hard she let out a loud squeaky wheezing sound.

“Was that you?” he asked.

She nodded, her body continuing to shake with her laughter. “Sorry. I do that when I laugh too hard. You’re cute when you’re mad, you know that?”

“You know that you’re just cute?” he asked back.

She blushed and busied herself with taking her turn, opting not to respond.

“So what’s your favorite position?” he asked her.

“Shit!” she sputtered, bringing a finger to her lips in thought.

“My bad. You don’t have to answer.”

“Nah, it’s cool. Just a good question. Shit… Uh… well I’m a little romantic at heart, so probably missionary. But I like others too.”

“Yeah? Missionary’s my favorite because I can pull her hair and make her look at me.”

Her eyes went wide. “Ooo, into hair pulling huh? I love pulling and getting my hair pulled.”

His own eyes went wide and his cock twitched in his pants. “Yeah? What other positions do you like? You said there were others.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Yeah,” she stammered. “Well, uh… like most girls I assume, I get off through clit stimulation. So 69 is like a gold mine. Doggy’s also nice.”

He nodded approvingly as his cock twitched more. “Wanna know the nice part of doggy?” he asked, his voice catching a little.

“What?” she laughed, knowing she had him about as flustered as he had her.

“You get to pull her up by her hair and play with her clit,” he winked.

“Ayyyy! That’s exactly why I like it!”

“It’s definitely on the list of positions I like too. Plus I get to choke her a bit. That’s why I like missionary too.”

“Any position you can choke and pull her hair, huh? See, I like doggy because I get both of those and some ass smacking. All my kinks in one position.”

“Aw, you got them soft kinks,” he teased.

“Shut up, so do you!” she laughed.

He sat down in a high-backed chair that rocked slightly with his movements. “Aw, shit, this chair would be perfect to have a girl riding me on,” he acknowledged with a horny look. His teeth sunk into his lower lip as he gripped the armrests and made the chair rock more. “Just, a little this with her hand choking me. Phew… Clutch, lemme tell ya.”

“Annnd, there’s the switch,” she giggled.

“Look, I only like being dommed when she’s riding me. Otherwise, I’m domming.”

“Next you’re gonna tell me you like being called ‘Daddy’,” she scoffed at him.

The way his eyes lit up at the title had her gulping involuntarily. “Fuck yeah. The girl I’m gonna hook up with later- we’ve hooked up in the past- she called me ‘Sir’ once and I corrected her so fuckin’ hard.”

She laughed to hide her arousal. “You’re so weird.”

He smirked at her as he stood up. “Aw, got you a little flustered, do I?” he breathed down at her once he had closed their distance

“Like I don’t have you just as flustered,” she shot back, rubbing her hand against his cheek. “Daddy,” she added with a loud laugh. She pursed her lips in a knowing smirk of her own at the way he looked: his eyes clenched shut, hands curling in a fist, and teeth biting into his lip. “What? I shouldn’t touch you?” she continued to play with him, dropping her hand to draw it down his torso, enjoying the feel of his muscles underneath her fingertips. He radiated strength in a way that made her weak in the knees and wet between her thighs. Thankfully for her, she could hide her arousal better than he could.

“You really shouldn’t,” he said, his lips barely moving, and his brown eyes practically pitch black with lust.

She shrugged and stepped back. “Your shot, by the way,” she told him, gesturing at the pool table.

Right. Pool. He had nearly forgotten what he was originally here to do, his mind full of thoughts that centered around bending her over the pool table and wiping that smirk off her face. Her own mind raced with similar thoughts, wishing he didn’t have a hook up date with another girl.

~~~

Brooke wasn’t expecting to hear from Calum until Monday, so when her phone pinged not even an hour after they had said their goodbyes for the night, she was definitely surprised.

Calpal_hoodie: Wanna hear something annoying?

She perked up so much, she felt a little guilty.

Babbling_Brook: Omg, yes! What happened with your date?

Calpal_hoodie: So, she gets here. We drove around to find a spot. I take out my condoms. She’s ALLERGIC to them! So, I drove to a store to get new ones. I drive back. And she’s like “can you drive me back please?” She was about to break down about her break up with her ex and couldn’t handle it. So dry dick for Cal.

Brooke clapped a hand over her mouth to suppress her giggles. On one hand, she felt bad for him. On the other, she was glad his date had freaked out. The fact that- besides playing venting at her- he had let his date call it quits before it even started only made Brooke feel better about her feelings about Calum.

Babbling_Brook: If it makes you feel any better, this chick I’m never gonna stand a chance with called me a pussy wetter. Which like… no… I’m dorky and awkward. I just have a talent for being smooth as fuck

Calpal_hoodie: Lol. You want me to agree with her, don’t you?

Babbling_Brook: I mean… I gave you the set up…

Calpal_hoodie: Lol! Yes, you definitely have pussy wetting potential.

Babbling_Brook: Potential?! Aw, bubbie…

Calpal_hoodie: Bubbie? Lol

Babbling_Brook: Not into pet names? Cal the Snack Thief is a tad long... And again. “Potential”?! Smh… lowkey offended, bubbie.

Calpal_hoodie: So am I… And no! I didn’t mean it like that, honest… When I use the term “potential” it means you already got it.

Babbling_Brook: 1.) Did you just make a big dick joke? 2.) I’m teasing. I know I’m a smooth talking son of a gun. I can talk the panties off a mannequin.

Calpal_hoodie: Yes, yes I did lol. And note taken. That was smooth right there.

Babbling_Brook: I mean… I made you nice and flustered earlier, yeah?

Calpal_hoodie: Oh yeah… fuck! I just want pussy in my mouth with my cock down someone’s throat… is that too much to ask?!

Babbling_Brook: You and me both, bubbie. Only the opposite. But yeah…

Calpal_hoodie: Wake up that dude of yours by sucking his dick then, lmao. I’m gonna get high as balls.

Babbling_Brook: Nah, I’m probs just gonna go to bed. As for you? Yeah, go get high as balls and maybe you’ll forget it’s your own hand you’re fucking.

Calpal_hoodie: Now you’re just making me feel bad lmao

Babbling_Brook: Just being a brat, like whatchu gonna do?

Calpal_hoodie: Lmao, I think you know what I would do… fuck, I’ll probably end up sending nudes to my chick after I smoke. I always get more comfortable doing that when I’m high as hell.

Babbling_Brook: Makes sense. Being drunk/high tends to lower one’s inhibitions so people are more likely to step outside of their normal comfort zone when under the influence (See, told ya I was smart, too)

Calpal_hoodie: Alright, calm down Plato lol

Babbling_Brook: Lol.

She paused and looked at her phone. Her curiosity was getting the better of her. She had to know.

Babbling_Brook: Now… out of pure curiosity… I’m pretty bratty with you frequently. Given the chance, what would you actually do?

Calpal_hoodie: Look at you all turned on asking me lol

She chuckled at her phone. She wasn’t going to let him see her sweat. She turned up the brat charm.

Babbling_Brook: My curiosity is turned on, sure. As for the rest of me? Dry as your dick, bubbie.

Calpal_hoodie: Oh, damn! Alright… so like… what would I do to you sexually? If I had the chance and you were single?

She frowned at her phone, briefly. Was he only this willing to divulge all this information to her because he thought she was with someone else? Because he could freely flirt with her because he thought all it amounted to was just two friends talking shit? She wondered if now was her chance to come clean. Let him know that he had misinterpreted her words when she said she was seeing someone. But, she was afraid he would balk if she did. That knowing there was no actual boundary would be what pushed their relationship into awkward territory. And as much as she liked him that way, she also really enjoyed the friendship and didn’t want to lose that.

Babbling_Brook: Yeah. We’re both single. We have the relationship we do now. I mouth off like I always do. What do you do?

Calpal_hoodie: Well I’d tell you that if you keep mouthing off, you won’t have any room left in your mouth to speak. And of course you wouldn’t want to stop talking shit then. So I’d prove it and make you get on your knees for me… and if we had that room to ourselves, you’d definitely end up over that pool table taking every inch. But… ya know… lol!

Brooke gulped, reading the message, knowing he wouldn’t have told her that if she told him the truth. It was easy to be bold when you thought nothing could come of it.

Babbling_Brook: Oh, so when you said you were a dom, you meant like a dom dom. Alright… I dig.

Calpal_hoodie: Lol oh yeah. And you? What would you do?

Babbling_Brook: Shit… flip the script, yeah? Alright… Well, I’d definitely be much brattier knowing I could probably get something out of it. Test these dom limits of yours. And then get hella insecure that you saw me as a fling. Because even though I started everything in good fun, I’d be secretly craving a relationship like the romantic ho I am.

Calpal_hoodie: Aw! Least you’re honest. Well, would’ve been fun.

She shook her head sadly at her phone. If only he knew this was all entirely possible.

Babbling_Brook: I try to be lol. Like in all reality, I’d let you fuck me six ways to Sunday and then probably cry about it because I’d get all girly about it. But I’d still be my bratty self to you in person acting all cool and unbothered cuz I don’t want to be clingy and weird. Definitely would’ve been a ride for sure- pun fully intended.

Calpal_hoodie: Aw! That’s like both a lil sad but so honest and genuine. Nice pun, btw lol.

Babbling_Brook: Lol, it’s okay though. Cuz, trust, you’d want a relationship. Like I’m fuckin great! I can be adventurous as fuck or we can chill in bed all day watching movies. And I value my independence so like I’m more than fine with you going off with your boys or whatever cuz I like my alone time. Plus, I’ll remind you of what you got waiting for you later…

Calpal_hoodie: Ayyy! Sounds good to me lmao! Fuck, I still gotta smoke…

Babbling_Brook: Cool, cool. I’m gonna hit the hay. Enjoy that smoke and the thoughts we put in each other’s head lol!

Calpal_hoodie: Lmao, will do!

They both did. They both made a mess of themselves at the idea of giving themselves over to the other one.

~~~

Again, Brooke didn’t expect to hear from Calum until Monday at class. So when her phone pinged on Saturday and the notification said it was from him, her eyebrows pinched together in confusion while her heart raced in excitement.

Calpal_hoodie: Hey, I dunno if you had plans or anything. But my roommates and I are gonna have a rehearsal. So if… No worries if you’re busy. Just thought you’d be interested.

Babbling_Brook: Nah, that sounds great! I’m off today. Where you guys at?”

He messaged her an address to a set of apartments she knew was a few blocks from campus. A twenty minute walk, tops. She looked out the window at the soft warm sunshine. A walk would be perfect.

Babbling_Brook: Cool, be there in twenty. Should I bring anything?

Calpal_hoodie: Nah, just your cute ass

Babbling_Brook: Lmao, you mean my nonexistent ass?

Calpal_hoodie: Lol, it’s okay. You don’t need an ass. You got tits for days.

Babbling_Brook: That I do, lol. See ya in a few then.

The music playing in her headphones got caught off by her phone pinging. Her heart sank, thinking it was Calum cancelling. But it wasn’t. It was Trevor, her not-boyfriend.

Trev: Hey

Brookie: Hey

Trev: You busy?

Brookie: Yeah, I’m actually heading over to a friend’s. Gonna watch his band practice

Trev: His? Like a dude?

Brookie: Is that a problem?

Trev: No. So later then?

Brookie: Maybe… What are we, Trev?

Trev: This again? Brookie…

Brookie: I know. I just…

Trev: You wanna fuck this dude without feeling guilty?

Brookie: Don’t put words in my mouth… I’m not trying to fight.

Trev: I’m not either. Look, we’ve dated other people before. You’re free to do what you want Brookie. I’ll be here whenever you’re done having your fun.

Brookie: Don’t do that. Don’t act like I’m the one stringing you along. You wanted this setup, not me.

Trev: I wasn’t saying that to be mean, Brookie, damn. Seriously, have your fun.

Brookie: I’m sorry, Trev. I didn’t expect to feel this way.

Trev: You don’t have to apologize, Brookie. I’m the idiot who keeps you at arm’s length. I know that comes with the risk of losing you to someone who won’t. But that’s my problem, not yours.

Brookie: I’m still sorry. I don’t like hurting you.

Trev: I know. That’s part of your charm Brookie. You care deeply about everyone around you. Don’t worry about me, okay?

Brookie: Easier said than done, Trev…

Trev: I know. See ya around, Brookie.

She sniffed back the tears that threatened to fall, feeling stupid for mourning a loss that was never hers to lose in the first place. All Trevor and her had been were friends who sometimes had sex. Which is why she had known exactly what to say to Calum about what she would afterwards in the event they ever crossed the line and had sex themselves. It had been a projection of her own relationship with Trevor. She just had to keep faith that maybe her relationship with Calum would have a better ending.

She paused to collect herself before she rapped her knuckles on the door of Calum’s apartment. The door swung open before she had even finished knocking and she was being pulled in the apartment and that one-armed hug she only now fully realized how much she loved. “Hey! You’re here! Guys! This is Brooke. Brooke, these are the guys. Ash, Luke, and Mike.”

3 tall guys nodded as their names were called, first a hazel-eyed brunette with a bright red bandana, then a blue-eyed blonde with a lip ring, and a guy with hair dyed the same shade of green as his eyes.

“Hi,” she squeaked, heat rushing to her cheeks. Of course someone as good looking as Calum would have equally good-looking friends.

“You okay?” Calum asked her, his brown eyes full of concern.

She let out her breath in a huff and shrugged her shoulders. “Eh,” she held her hand flat and gave it a small shake. “It’s fine. So do you guys do covers or write your own stuff?”

“Bit of both,” the blonde told her.

“Cool! What would you classify the stuff you make as? Like genre?”

“Punk!” the green-haired man grinned.

Brooke chuckled as the others sighed, “Mikey…”

“We’re mostly rock oriented,” the brunette explained. “But we experiment with different sounds, so I wouldn’t classify us specifically as a rock band. We just make music we like to make. The genre part is irrelevant.”

“Ash, the word smith,” Calum teased with a roll of his eyes as he moved across the room to pick up the bass he must have set aside when he answered the door. “Have a seat,” he directed at Brooke. “Get comfortable.”

She took a seat on a chair while the men went to various instruments. “2, 3, 4,” the brunette, Ash, counted from a drum kit. Brooke watched his thick thigh work to create a steady fast-paced beat, drumsticks twirling effortlessly before her eyes were glancing back over to Calum who had his eyes closed as he played the beat with Ash before the other two joined in with their the guitars and the blonde started singing.

Brooke watched, mesmerized, her jaw dropping when Calum started singing himself. She quickly closed it when he caught her and shot her a wink. She swayed in her seat, her feet tapping along to the beat as the roommates played their way through some songs she didn’t recognize so she assumed they were theirs, snapping the occasional picture.

~~~

“So, how do you know, Cal?” Ash was asking her an hour later as they both sipped on water. The instruments had been placed aside in favor of game controllers and when Ash made a mention of grabbing some drinks, she had realized how parched she had become.

“Oh, we have a class together.”

He nodded, leaning against the kitchen counter. “College girl meets college boy, huh? Same major?”

She chuckled softly, before shaking her head. “No, I’m a photography major. I think Cal’s English, isn’t he?”

He nodded. “Yeah, Cal’s an English major. He always liked to read. But photography, eh? That explains you taking all those pictures.”

She shrugged. “I like seeing people for who they truly are. Are you guys in college, too?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I graduated last year. And those two barely made it out of high school. Cal and I were the only ones who could stick out school. Which is crazy cuz Luke’s mum’s a teacher.”

She chuckled more. “Mum… what are you, British?”

“Australian, darling. We all are. Cal didn’t tell you?”

She sputtered, choking on her water. “What?! No! No, he didn’t.”

He giggled and a dimple appeared in his cheek. “Yeah. Luke and Mike have dreams of being rockstars. And they’re our boys and it’s our band. So when we graduated high school, we all moved out here. But, Cal wanted a college education. And I had already completed a year myself at that point, so I joined him. And Luke and Mike… well, their talents lie elsewhere. They’ve gotten us a few demos made. We even have our own albums and perform at festivals. Just waiting for Cal to get done so we can make it big time.”

“Sounds to me like that won’t be that hard. You guys got some serious talent.”

“Yeah? You think?”

She nodded. “Yeah. So you’re a year older then?”

It was his turn to nod. “There abouts. I’m 23. Mike and Cal are 22. Then Luke’s the baby. He won’t be 22 until after my 24th birthday. How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh, I’m 22. I’m about two months older than Cal.”

“Nice. And you have a class together with Cal?”

She nodded. “Yeah. We had a class last year which is how we met. Honestly, I didn't think he noticed me at all. Then, this semester we ended up in another class together, and I guess I made more of an impression than I thought.”

He smiled down at her and she thought she’d drown in that hazel gaze. “Oh, you made the impression alright. Mate doesn’t shut up about you. Always going on about the girl in class with the snacks and snark.”

She laughed loudly, covering her mouth with her hand as she blushed. “Don’t know why he would. I’m really not much. Just a girl who doesn’t know when to shut her mouth.”

“Should see yourself from someone else’s point of view, darling. Cuz, you’re a bombshell, if I can be so bold as to say so.”

She sputtered again. “Oh yeah?”

He leaned down, his gaze heavy on her. “Oh, yeah.”

“Hey!” Calum’s voice snapped darkly and Ash and Brooke jumped apart, Ash giving his friend a sheepish grin, Brooke’s face bright red like she had got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “The fuck, Ash?”

Ash raised his hands in defense. “My bad. Line crossed. I’ll back off.”

“Yeah, back the fuck up. She’s got a boyfriend.”

“You’re dating?” Ash’s hazel eyes flashed in startled confusion.

Calum’s brown eyes rolled. “No. She’s got a boyfriend.”

Brooke fiddled with her fingers. “Um… actually…” she started, her voice small, both slightly frightened and turned on by Calum’s protective jealousy.

“You don’t have a boyfriend?” Calum’s voice asked, the fierceness replaced by a tone that sounded on the verge of breaking. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I said… and you assumed… and I didn’t… Cal, we said…” Brooke’s hands started to flutter at her sides, her eyes welling up with tears. The girl who normally had more words than she knew what to do with was speechless.

“Whoa… hey,” his voice soothed and then he was pulling her into a hug. But instead of one arm, it was both, and she was about to crack from the soft intimacy. “C’mere,” he said before he was leading her down the hallway and into a bedroom. “Brooke, it astounds me how fucking blunt and honest we are with each other. Like the shit that comes out of your mouth blows me away sometimes. But you really couldn’t feel like you could tell me that you didn't have a boyfriend?”

“I’m sorry…” she whispered. “I… what Trevor and I have is hard to explain. It’s like we’re a couple without the label. And it’s always been confusing for me. And I didn’t want to try and explain that and get us both confused, so it was easier to let you think that he was my boyfriend. And then… well, we admitted what we admitted and… I dunno. I think it was easy for you to say those things when you thought nothing could come from it.”

“You think I said those filthy things to you just to say them?”

She shrugged and bit into her lower lip. “Maybe… Easy to flirt with someone when you can hide behind the fact that nothing will come of it…”

“Is that why you let me believe you had a boyfriend? So you could hide?”

She shook her head. “No! I just… look the relationship I had… have… I dunno… it’s not fully what I want. Yes, we’re friends. Yes, we have sex. But I want more than that. And he doesn’t. And that’s fine. But… I can’t do it with you, too. And I know it’s probably on me for being the proud tomboy who likes to be one of the guys. But I can’t keep being the girl who’s not good enough to be the girlfriend.”

“Jesus…” Calum breathed, running his hands through his curls.

“Don’t,” she said, standing up. “It’s fine. I’m the hopeless romantic living in a hookup culture world. Um, I’m gonna go now. But, I’ll see you Monday? Want teddy grahams or pretzels?”

“You’re doing that thing you said you would do,” he muttered.

“What thing?” she asked, forcing a smile.

“Where you said you would act cool and unbothered to not come off as clingy and desperate.”

“I said weird, not desperate…” she mumbled, staring down at her shoes. “See ya, Cal.”

“On your knees,” his voice barked at her as her back turned and her hand gripped the knob of the bedroom door.

“Excuse me?” she asked, turning back to face him, her face a mix of sad longing and confused anger.

He stalked over to her. “I said,” he spoke, his voice low and raspy as his fingers dug into her shoulders. “On. Your. Knees.”

She looked at him in full confusion but sank to her knees anyway. “Cal… What are you doing?”

“Making good on my word of what I would do to you if I ever got the chance,” he answered darkly. Then his face was inches from hers and it was full of soft concern. “That okay?”

She gulped and nodded. Then, as he went to straighten up, “Wait! Cal?”

“Yeah?” he asked, crouching back down.

“What happens after?”

“You said you’d make a great girlfriend, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“I’m willing to give that a try if you are.”

She nodded again. Then, “Cal?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Brooke. I’m a romantic, too. This is about making sure we both get what we want. And I want you.”

“I want you too, Cal.”

“Good,” he smiled before pressing a soft kiss to her lips that made her stomach do flips. “Now, open up that pretty mouth of yours,” he said, tracing his thumbs over her lips to part them as he straightened up once more. “And it’s ‘Daddy’ from here on out,” he added with a smirk before his fingers were undoing his jeans and pushing them down along with his boxers.

“Yes, Sir,” she grinned saucily, her mouth watering at how big he was.

“There’s my brat,” he cooed in a manner that sent shivers down her spine. “Gonna fuck that attitude out of you real fast, sweetheart. You’ll learn.”

“Do your worst,” she taunted.

~~~

They were a breathless mess of tangled limbs and soft kisses in his bed. “Fuck, Ca- Da- Um…” she giggled while her cheeks flushed brick red. “Shit, I dunno what to call you now…”

His chest rumbled beneath her with his chuckle. “You can still call me, ‘Cal,’ sweetheart. ‘Daddy’ is just for bedroom activities. I’m not that kind of dom.”

She nodded. “Fuck, that was amazing.”

“Plenty more where that came from too, sweetheart. This is only the beginning.”

She sprawled across him to reach for her phone that was in her pants. “Can I?” she asked.

He nodded, pulling up the blankets to make them less exposed as she snapped some pictures. “You said you take pictures because you like seeing how people are when they’re fully themselves?”

“Yeah…”

“So what would those snapshots of you look like? If you were able to take candids of yourself.”

She thought for a minute then showed him the pictures she had just taken. “Probably a lot like this. You make me feel… well you make me feel a lot of things. One of which happens to be total relaxation. I feel like I can just be. No act. No bullshit. Just me.”

“Good, cuz I happen to like just you a whole fuckin lot.”

~~~

Tag List (Leave a message at the beep)

@goeatsomelife @flameraine @cashtonasff5sos @here-for-the-uproars @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @baldcalum @sparkling-chaos @tea4sykes @youngblood199456 @5-seconds-of-obsession

#snapshots and snapbacks #calum hood #calum hood fic #5sos #college!cal #galcal irwin

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babylon-cal · 6 years

Photo

Why have I not seen this picture before?!

#oh my god the snapback #and he's shirtless too oh my #calum #calum hood #calum 5sos #ch #my main man cal #🌹#5sos #5sosstannetwork #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #michael clifford

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ijustdontlikepeople · 3 years

Note

Oh mili!!! It’s Michael time!!! A great time!!! 😍😍😍😍😍

An absolute sweetie!! Can’t see too much of his face :( 7/10

Hoooooottttttt 10/10

Two (2!) Kitties!!! Lovely fluffy man! 8/10

Sleepy puppy boy 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 8/10

Oh my goodness! Mulum? Maluke?? Ashton’s friends!! I love them so much.,,aghdhkk they all look hot 12/10

Mike hiding?? Behind Calum??? With that jawline??? 10/10

Snapback!Michael and Hearteyes!Luke 😍😍😍😍 9/10

They! All! Individually! Look! Hot! As! Fuck! (Luke is making a weird face but he’s looking at Michael and biting his lip so it is forgiven) 12/10

Cuddly baby malum! Best friends! Childhood best friends! Comfy! Cozy! Hugging! Shielding! I love them dearly!! Michael’s red red lips!!! 12/10 classic!!!

Pretty good band photo!! Cal looks fantastic!! The leather jacket 🥺🥺🥺 8/10

#mili thank you #so much Michael 😍😍#annie rates 5sos photos for her mental health #4/4 #saucy #mili #httpsgfg #annie responds

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my-shop · 5 years

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 3 years

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Real Life

Previously uploaded on my old blog, calumh-excess. Since edited and revamped.

The aftermath of Calum has left the rest of South’s people in a nasty spot. And Michael’s in an even nastier. Still needing to help his mother, he continues pushing. The only thing he doesn’t heed warnings and Marissa’s watching the aftermath of such choices. She loves Michael, but can she save herself?

Gang!MichaelxLatina!OC. CW: Gangs, descriptions of violence, brief smut/NSFW content. (18+)

A Two Part Series. Part One: Purple and Blue.

Masterlist (on a semi-hiatus)

The pool hall is cloudy, cigarette smoke filling Michael’s vision and nostrils. He watches his two ball roll down the green wool before clinking against the other balls in the pocket. He straightens and hands the cue to his baby, Mars–short for Marissa. She proudly rejected his first attempt at a nickname, Doll, stating she’s ‘no one’s Doll’ but she ‘would happily be his baby.’ So that’s his baby, tan skin glowing in the harsh lights, huffing as she lines up her next shop. They’re playing a couple’s game, him and Mars against Calum and Penelope. It’s pretty even between the two of them, but Penelope’s shockingly good and Mars’ still pretty new to the game. So Michael’s picking up the slack. He’s set her up for seven, not too far and not too difficult. It should only take a minor adjustment to the left of the cue for her to sink it. She moves too far to the left and it bounces off the wall.

Michael knows all too well the pout that’s about to settle onto her face. He rubs her back before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into his chest. “Next time, Baby. You’ll get it next time.”

She huffs, flicking her wavy hair over her shoulder. Her words fall with a twinge of an accent. “You’re just saying that, amor. We all know I’m shit at this.”

Michael kisses the exposed skin of her neck. He loves it when she calls him that. He likes listening to her phone calls with her mother. The conversation moves fast, English and Spanish mixing midway through sentences. It’s a reminder of just how comfortable she in around him, that in some part she’s never felt like she had to hide who she was. Though Marissa wasn’t quite the type to keep too much quiet. She inhabited space and didn’t care who didn’t like it. And Michael wanted her too, he wanted to be herself.

But right now, he’s a little too focused on the smell of her perfume and the three balls that Calum and Penelope just sunk. They don’t really have stakes on this game. But it still sucks to loose, or be loosing. They haven’t lost yet. “Fuck,” he huffs. “You guys are fucking cheating.”

Calum chuckles, readjusting the hat on his head, keeping his head pointed slightly downward. His face is still pretty messed up, the skin still hues of blues and purples. Michael already knows how bad the damage was. They made him throw some swings, offered him one too many times the switchblade. He didn’t take it--not at first. But he could tell the heated gazes would only need one more sign of disloyalty to go on a rampage and throw him into the woes with Calum. And while Michael would do a lot for Calum, he wasn’t quite in a position to take a beating too. That’s what hurts the most--the shame in knowing that Michael could’ve done more but didn’t.

Michael looks away when Calum glances up. Calum doesn’t blame Michael. He gets it. Michael had to do all that stuff. No sense in both of them being beaten into a bloody pulp. He’s tried to tell Michael to not worry about it, that he’s long since forgiven him. But whenever Michael catches a glimpse of the bruises, sees Calum moves a little too slow, face twisted in pain, that lump grows in his throat again. Michael doesn’t have enough mouths, enough time on this earth to apologize for what happened. But Michael had his own family to consider, his own debts, and the choice is never fucking easy. But Michal wishes shame wasn’t such a heavy burden.

Penelope senses the tense moment happening. They happen all the time now between the two of them. She pops her gum loudly before speaking, “The last things we are, are cheaters. Just admit it Cliffo, you can’t hang.”

Michael glances over to her, a small smile lifting his lips. “Nah, I still vote cheaters. You can go first, Mars.”

“Rather not,” she mutters, stepping away from his warm embrace.

“Baby, you can get the 5. I know you can. Let me help.” She sighs but nods. Michael guides her to the pool table. She lines up, bending over the table. Michael slides in behind her, moving her angle a bit to the right. “Remember to follow through. You stop sometimes too soon,” he whispers into her ear. She shivers a little against his chest.

With a gin, she whispers, “I hate you sometimes Clifford.”

“Oh, but you love me.”

She laughs, pulling back cue stick. Michael guides her direction, pushing the cue stick almost like trying to push it through the middle of the cue ball. The five ball glides down the wool and taps the ledge with just enough speed and angle to fall into the pocket. “Mira, maybe you’re right,” Mars chuckles quietly. “But only this time.”

Michael guides her around the table, shot after shot sinking into their respective pocket. They clear the board, solids, stripes, and the eight ball. “They’re the cheaters,” Penlope states, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Mars flips her off, both girls laughing at the action.

A phone starts to chime. Calum pulls it off the countertop next to the table and kisses Penelope on the cheek. “Duty calls,” he laughs. Calum moved out of town and works at the pool hall and bar. It’s a hike for Michael, but he understands the distance. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on with Penelope considering her affiliation still with Block. But from what Michael’s gathered, some sort of legal battle’s going on so she can get guardianship of her siblings before moving in with Calum or least into the same town as him.

“We’ll straighten up,” Michael states, one arm snaking around Mars’ waist.

“Thanks,” he nods, sliding to the back, ID in his hands, ready to clock back into work. Michael picks up the plastic case the balls rest in and starts slotting them back into place. Staring down the black tray of the pool halls, all Michael can think about is how much blood was already staining the floors to the point some puddles looked black. A chill climbs down his spine when the memory takes over him.

Calum was already pretty out of it, one eye already was swollen shut. Michael didn’t want to hit him. But then South grinned, his brow quirked up. “We got a deal, son. You telling me you’re backing out now.” Michael hated that debt was hanging over his head. He hated, even more, he was still so young to the gang. Maybe it could make things easier. But South was really putting in on Michael to show loyalty. If his mother hadn’t needed the surgery, he wouldn’t be here. And it’s not like he blames her. He blames South for making such an appealing offer. He blames South for swooping in when he was vulnerable. Michael really hates himself for opening up to South. He knew South was no good, but he had been cornered, played like a fucking fiddle.

Michael threw some swings. He tried to make them look harder than they actually were. South handed him the switchblade, the first one to swipe over Calum’s flesh. His hands trembled. He and Calum were close, even though he was a newcomer. The last thing he wanted to do was harm his friend. He’ll admit Calum took the beating well, never cried out, never said a word to plead them to stop. He sat, groaning and grunting with the punches. One particular blow landed in his gut and the curse that fell off Cal’s lips still keeps Michael up at night sometimes. It’s not so much the curse it sound, but the howl that followed. The echo of pain and yet the silence from Calum. There was a strange peace with him. Michael’s not sure he could’ve reached that point--if he could’ve found a peace in the midst of all the pain.

“Hey, don’t tell me my boyfriend machine has broken?” Mars teases, gently placing a hand onto Michael’s back.

He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of those thoughts. It’s done. It’s over. He’s been forgiven. “Sorry, I’m alright, Baby.”

She nods, knowing that far away glaze to his eyes. He’s not okay. But she doesn’t push it. Instead, she rubs his back, and finishes putting the rest of the balls away. Mars splits the check with Penelope and they pay for the games. Michael leans into the table and lets out a shaky breath. Keep it together, Clifford. But it’s hard--it’s hard to keep it together when he knows for a fact that he should be letting it all fall apart. He should be sobbing. He should let the guilt overtake him.

Later that night, Michael’s phone wakes him. He jolts at the sound of it ringing. He reaches to the nightstand and wipes the sleep from his eyes. What the fuck is going on? Seeing South’s number, Michael throws his feet to the floor. “What’s up?” he answers in a whisper, looking over his shoulder to Mars. She’s shifting, waking. He reaches out and runs his palm over her hair, to try and soothe her. Though he complains about the curls being pushed into his face first thing in the morning, he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He wouldn’t trade her for the world.

“I need to speak with you,” South states. His tone is cool, calm.

“Just tell me when and where.” Michael covers a yawn, as South rattles off the name of a small diner not too far from him. The phone call ends and Michael walks around to her side of the bed.

“Be safe,” she whispers, sitting up. More falls from her lips, a prayer he’s come to recognize and he holds still as she signs the cross over him. He’s not religious by any means, but it’s second nature to her in some respects.

Michael kisses the top of her head. “Always am.”

He slides into some jeans, sneakers and a jacket, throwing a snapback on before walking out of the door. Michael knows his appearance helps him. No one singles him out, no one questions him. The long fringe, the glasses, the clothes, it’s all him. But he’s conscious about it. He likes to keep up the appearance. And sure, Michael should be free to wear whatever he wants. But recognizes the edge it gives him and the edge it gives South too. Michael can get into places that a lot of the other guys can’t. South can push weight in a lot of places that would normally be off limit.

Though Michael wasn’t a fan of the three a.m. calls, they are fairly common. At first, he got to a point where he couldn’t sleep. Too afraid to miss a call from South and too afraid to sleep in case he somehow fucked up and needed to get away. Micheal was sure at some point he’d never sleep again. He’d always be looking over his shoulder. He’d always be waiting for the other shoe to drop. It never did. And getting comfortable was probably dangerous too.

But Mars made the thought so enticing. Coming home to a house full--either her family visiting or her cooking with the radio blasting. That’s enough to make him want to get too comfortable. That’s the life he’s always wanted and he can picture that with Mars. He can picture her teaching him the bachata or salsa and laughing when he fails miserably in front of her aunts, but knowing he was trying his best. That’s the thought, the picture, the dream, that he wants to give into. And yet this--this is his reality. Pulling into the diner parking lot.

Michael spies South leaning against his car. The neon signs reflect off the slightly wet pavement thanks to the evening rain. Unusual, the rain, but it was more than welcomed. Mars loved it, said she always dreamed of running in the rain with her lover. And though they missed this opportunity, Michael made a promise to himself not to miss the second one. The forecast was predicting more rain tomorrow.

Michael pulls up his sleeves, before stuffing his arms into the back of his pants and walks over to South. The diner is dark, the highway is fairly silent. “Going to my usual?” Michael chuckles.

South grins. “Someone’s happy.”

Michael shrugs. “I’m used to it.” And used to it doesn’t quite encapsulate the feeling. But it’s the only words he has, because he is used to his usual. Used to the early morning calls and the drives and the pushing. It doesn’t make it easier, just makes it more familiar.

Looking past Michael, South shakes his head, a small grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “No, you’re not going to your usual. Our smugglers got busted bringing in new products. We’re a bit strapped at the moment. The club needs its weight and I’m trying to make sure none of our asses get caught up.”

The question lingers in the air. Michael knows better than to ask why he’s out by himself with South at the side of the highway. So he waits, hands still in his pockets, watching the watery reflection of the cake in the sign underneath his feet. Michael is the pusher. If suppliers get caught, he’s a close second. Though, South is very good at keeping his good people out of trouble. Michael is hoping this conversation takes a good turn. He needs to be considered one of the good people right now.

“Don’t look so down. If shit gets any worse, you’re not gonna get named. On my word. But, look, tell me this isn’t true.” Michael looks up to South, nodding to signal that he’s listening. “I got some eyes saying they saw you hangin’ with Hood. Across the highway. He’s a traitor and I don’t give too many second chances.”

The only reason Calum got this chance was because of Block. The turf war yielded no new territory but it did create an interesting neutral ground within the city. Places that previously weren’t owned were split. Anyone could sell, anyone could use it as foot traffic. But they couldn’t fight. They had to keep it remotely cordial in those areas. It was area South was bound to loose of Block was pushed to the full extent of his manpower. And South didn’t really want to lose more men. So he had to agree to Block’s term. Calum couldn’t lose his life, but they could make a point. They could make him an example. And South used that leeway to the full advantage.

Michael wasn’t sure why Block cared so much about Calum--though Michael didn’t know about Penelope. But whatever the reason, South was quick to use it. And Calum was more than example, if Michael has anything to say about it.

Michael’s heart races. He’s glad his hands are in his pants now or else South would be sure to see the slight tremble. He doesn’t want to throw out accusations that someone is lying. That kind of accusation if turned up false is going to get someone else killed and them him. And Michael can’t lie to him either. South can smell a liar from 100 yards away. A hand settles onto Michael’s shoulder and squeezes. Hard. Michael blinks, jaw tightening to hide the pain. South knows.

Michael finally speaks. “He’s not one of ours. He chooses that hot piece of ass bitch over us.” God, he hates saying it. But it’s what’s going to save his ass. Right now, he needs that--he needs to save his own ass.

“All women are good for is fucking and trouble. You should know that better than anyone,” South continues.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” The words fly out before Michael can think about the consequences. But he hates the way South grins, the quirk of his brow.

“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about. While I mainly fuck with black women, I’m no stranger to a mamacita here and there.”

Oh God, Michael’s stomach tenses, turns into a knot. It wasn’t exactly a secret who he was dating. An unfortunate side effect of his job is that close ties eventually got found out. But that didn’t mean he wanted Mars to have to be dragged into this. And for sure, he didn’t want her to be disrespected. His fists are clenching. This is South, he reminds himself. This will not go well for him if he does anything. Hell, he really shouldn’t say anything either. “That’s really fucking disgusting,” Michael spits.

South closes the distance between them, the shit eating grin replaced by a chaotic and devilish smile. “Make my fucking day. Say something else, please.”

He’s dead in the water now. But he doesn’t want to apologize. He shouldn’t have to and he won’t that’s for damn sure. It’s completely disrespectful what he’s insinuating. That somehow Mars was a stereotype, a fucking doll, not a complex human being with a rich and sometimes saddening background. She was not just her ethnicity, she was not just a woman. She was a person, she loved animals and was struggling with her waitress jig to find a way to attend school. It was just hard, she was sending so much money back home to help with her siblings. Michael offered up his apartment because he saw how much being at home was hurting her. That saved her some cash since he never asked for any type of composition, but she always snuck a couple hundred into his wallet for electricity and water.

He stopped fighting her about it when it seemed her retaliation was to only sneak more money into his wallet with a very pointed pink sticky note on it, daring him to try again to make her stop.

“All I’m saying is that maybe the women you associate only want to fuck, but not everyone is like that. For fuck sake.”

“A man of respect. I like that,” South says, loosening up his grip on Michael’s shoulder. “I want you to know, I really do like you. But you gotta keep to us and our business. Calum had interesting circumstances. But I’m sorry to report, those don’t pertain to you. So no more running around behind your man crush or whatever. If I hear about it happening again, I won’t be so nice.”

The slap to his back is firm, way too firm. Michael’s skin lights with a stinging fire. He nods. “Understood,” Michael answers softly. South gives a soft tap this time and then slides in through the driver side door of his car.

Michael steps back, watching the low rider glide over the asphalt. Was Michael going to completely stop hanging out with Calum? Probably not. But now he had to be smarter. He needed to be safer. The prayer Marissa gives everytime he leaves rings back against his ears. Safer, smarter--that’s all he needed to do. He was still his own man at the end of the day. He was only it with South for a little bit longer.

“Yeah, but how much longer?” Michael asks himself aloud into the quiet night.

When he returns home, Mars is splayed out on the couch, the comforter from their shared bed wrapped tightly around her. She looks cute with her lips slightly parted, a soft snore falling from her mouth. She never believes Michael about the snoring, even with video evidence. But he never complains seriously about it. Sliding out of his Vans, and pulling the jacket off his shoulders, he fishes for his baby under the sea of cotton before sliding in behind her and pulling her into his chest. He’s too lazy to carry her to the bedroom. It’s sure to wake her anyway. He throws the comforter back around them and lets his eyes close. South may be heated about his affiliation with Calum, but they’ll just have to be more careful then. Michael’s not going to let him ruin one of the few genuine relationships in his life. Lord knows he doesn’t have many.

__________

“What time do you have to leave tonight?” Mars asks, tending to the eggs.

“No delivery tonight,” Michael says, removing the last of the pancakes. “Hey, easy on my eggs with that heavy hand you got.”

“Ay Dios Mios. You baby. It’s not that much, see.” She shows him the pan. “And what do you mean? Why else would South call?”

“Just wanted to talk. It’s nothing.”

She knows it’s nothing. When Michael changed shirts, she noticed a pink spot on his back. He didn’t have any other injuries. But clearly, the force of the blow was enough to leave something behind. That’s not a ‘nothing serious’ conversation. That’s a fucking warning. She knows one when she sees one.“So things are good?”

He hums, snaking his arms around her waist. “Things are good,” he whispers into the crook of her neck, the stubble tickling her.

Marissa gives a smile, but the fear trickles down. It prickles her spine. How many warnings would he get before he wound up dead in a ditch?

“Can we please add those strawberry shortcake creamsicles to the grocery list?” Michael asks as he grabs plates from the cabinet.

“Would those even be out at this time?”

“Not sure. I just really have a taste for one.”

“Having one does sound good,” Marissa notes. It’s like the summers she had in the backyard, the pools and slip and slides slick with water to beat the heat. Coolers were full of melting ice and just cold enough drinks. The whir of her grandmother’s ice cream machine blurs in with the speaker that someone brought to play music

Water hoses would spray them, or fill balloons and water guns for the games to be played later. She forgets the name of the icepops that came in plastic tubing and they’d freeze days before. But grape was always her favorite, staining her tongue and lips and even her fingers if she didn’t eat it fast enough.

“Baby?” A squeezes her waist and Marissa blinks. Her hands are still wrapped around the jug of orange juice but not yet pouring.

“Yeah?”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What were you saying?”

Michael shakes his head. “No, no, what were you thinking about?”

“Just my summers. I sort of miss them. How things used to be back at home. Like as I kid you just never notice the bad because there’s always that next thing--birthday parties, going to school. After high school, it was clear what my parents wanted for me and I was trying you know. But there’s six of us and yeah.”

“The recreation center up the street has an indoor pool. We can invite a couple friends over, hang out. Bring your sisters too of course.”

The words almost fall, she almost asks who he plans on inviting, but she doesn’t. She nods instead. “I’d like that. What were you saying earlier?”

“Oh, just asking what time you wanted to go grocery shopping and if you picked up the extra shift on Saturday? Nothing major.”

_________

“Something on your mind, Baby?” Michael asks, stopped at a red light. They’re supposed to be heading up to see Calum and Penelope. But it’s in Mars gut that trouble is still lurking.

“South knows, doesn’t he? This is why we’re going so far out.” Mars doesn’t even look at Michael. She knows the truth. “He told you to stay away.”

Michael reaches out for her knee, but the second his hand lands on the denim covered skin, she pulls it away. “Yes,” he sighs. He’s not sure what her deal is, why she’s pulling away from him. But he’s not going to piss her off even more. So he settles his hand back on the steering wheel.

“You’d do this for Calum? Break rules?”

“I’d do it for you too if that’s what you’re wondering. I have done it for you.”

She huffs a chuckle, finally turning her gaze back to his face, the scratchy beard making a shadow on his face. “I wasn’t. I’m just concerned.”

“About?”

“Su vida,” she whispers. “South will not back down. I know you care; I know he’s your friend. I know your life isn’t exactly risk-free. But can you risk it even more? I-I worry enough as it is about you leaving late at night. My rosemary looks like it belongs to my grandmother. I have prayed so many times for you.”

Michael’s chest starts to ache. She cares. He knows she does and that she cares--he didn’t quite know to this extent. But to just leave one of his best friends all alone. To completely upend and cut off contact to one of the most consistent and loving people in his life–he can’t do that. No matter the risk.

“I won’t lie to you, Mars. You’re asking for the improbable there.”

“So not impossible?”

“No, I could stop--the possibility of me stopping is there. The risk is high and I know I should. I could cut off all contact. They’re all possible. They just aren’t probable. It’s highly unlikely. Besides, South needs not see me or have anyone that sees me. My mom now lives up in this area. If anyone questions things, I’ll have cover.”

“So you’d lie? On your mother?”

“No.” Michael turns off, taking the exit that will lead straight into his mother’s neighborhood. Mars watches as his jaw clenches for a moment. “I’d never lie about seeing her. I’ll just omit our pitstop afterward.”

Mars exhales, watching the houses fill out around her. The front yards, the kids playing footie. Maybe she ought to drop this, let him make his choices. But she can’t help but think about what could happen. She can’t bear even the imagined sight of Michael with a busted lip and bruised skin. She is not Penelope; she won’t be that strong. She won’t be able to put pressure on a knife wound. Her skin crawls at the thought of his blood staining her skin. She wouldn’t be able carry that weight and though it was a silly thought, because she does love Michael, she feels like she shouldn’t have to carry it. She shouldn’t have to be subjected to this.

And though it it feels like she should stick it out. She should stay with Michael through the inevitable end. She was her own person. She deserved someone to understand that she shouldn’t be on the second end of the equation. How many more times could she pray for a soul that didn’t necessarily want to be saved?

“Just know I’m concerned,” she states. She leaves it at though for the time being, seeing as they pull into the driveway of his mother’s house. And she doesn’t want to start an argument, but she doesn’t want to end the conversation.

Michael, turning off the car, looks as she pushes up from the seat and opens the door. She’s quick to pull the dish of buñuelos out from the back of the car. That’s a lot more than concerned, Michael knows. A lot more--but he steps out of the car and meets her at the front.

“Hey, look at me. What is it?”

“¿Acaso te preocupas por mí? Estoy muy preocupada constantemente.” Marissa exhales, feeling a bit better to get it off her chest. But Michael’s look let’s her know he didn’t catch it all. He’s learned a few things, but is still slow to translate sometimes. “Look, I want to have a nice visit with your mother. I do, I really do. But we have a lot to talk about.”

Michael nods. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m all ears, Baby. I’ll listen.”

She takes another deep inhale and exhale. “I really want to stuff my face. I hope your mother doesn't hate me for it.”

“She’d be happy to feed you with whatever she has.”

The visit with Michael’s mom goes by just like all the rest. She offers them tea, biscuits, any and everything in her fridge. She does not take no for an answer and she’s even more delighted at the addition of Marissa’s buñuelos. “Oh, you have to send me the recipe,” she gushes, grabbing another from the tin.

It’s nice, even though initially, Marissa is still tense. The laughs come easy and the treats don’t stop. For a moment she’s able to forget. She’s able to see Michael as the man that she knows he is, someone who loves his family, and is goofy, but so kind. That’s what she wants him to always be. Not the man she has to pray for, not the man that’s stubborn, not the man that she feels like sometimes doesn’t listen to her. And she knows initially she didn’t voice her concerns. But maybe after she did, things would change just a little. Maybe she wouldn’t feel like she’s fighting an uphill battle, which she knows she’s doomed to fail at.

As Michael and Mars go to leave, the hugs last twice as long as normal. But Michael and Mars just laugh and give into the older woman. They let themselves be rocked by her love, side to side, and whisper how good it is to see her. Michael promises before they leave that he’ll be by again very soon. Mars prays for his sake he does not get caught so he can keep to that promise.

The bowling alley is packed, kids screaming at the opposite end of the building. It looks like a birthday party wrapping up. The table’s a mess of paper plates, pizza boxes and a quarter of a cake left. Michael thinks back to some of his birthdays. “Next birthday, we’re having a party here,” he teases low in Mars’ ear, arms winding around her waist. “Complete with the ridiculous party hats.”

“Michael, please.”

He laughs and adds on, “I want an Overwatch cake.”

Mars rolls her eyes, laughter falling over her lips easily. “Fine, fine, fine. An Overwatch cake it is.” Normally she melts right into his touch, she slots in perfectly to his chest. But she keeps herself pushed forward, it’s hardly noticeable to anyone else on the outside. But Michael knows the difference--he noticed it at his mother’s house, though she eventually did settle into him. He can’t lose her. He squeezes at her flesh, willing her understand that he’s being smart about this. Or at least trying to be smart about it. But he can’t lose them both. There are very few genuine people left in his life and he needs them. He needs them desperately.

The bowling is the least of their fun. It’s the teasing. More than once Calum jokes about having to put the guard rails up for the girls. They decided to get boys vs girls. That earns Calum two sets of the meanest glares to land on him and the finger from both Penelope and Mars. Michael cheers as he lands his second strike of the night. He cheers, pumping his fist into the air, laughing as Mars glares at him. “We can get the guider too, the little rig for kids,” he offers as Calum wraps him up in a celebratory hug. Cal’s a couple pints in.

“You’re gonna need a ride home,” Mars huffs, holding the keys from her fingers. He’s had some drinks too. With the lopsided grin still on his lips, Michael walks over, bending over. He’s aware his breath is layered in beer but it’s okay. Her lips are soft against his, that’s all he cares about. Here with his eyes closed, fingers tangled in her hair, nothing else matters. She’s not worried about his safety, she’s not pulling away from him already. No, here, they are still the same. They give each other shit and the hugs, touches, and kisses are easy.

Mars wants to hang here forever, softly kissing Michael. Smiling as she does so because, god, is her boyfriend annoying but she loves him. She really does. She can love him even though others will say that his actions are morally wrong. She can handle that. He’s had to make his choices; he has to handle the consequences. She can be there for that. But would she ride this out even with her own destruction? Does this make her less than for having a limit?

Three games later and after the boys are a good five pints in, they leave. Michael giggles in the passenger seat. “You’re beautiful, Baby. You know that?”

A soft blush takes over her cheek, the heat rising fast. “You might’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

“But it’s very true. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

They don’t talk that night, not like they need to. Instead they give into each other. Marissa can’t help but give into the way Michael presses her against the door of the apartment and teases her over her panties. The material of her shorts thin and loose anyway. And Michael loves it when she moans into his ear. The curses to God because he’s touching her just right makes his whole body feel electric and that’s all he’s ever needed. To feel electric with Marissa. Because in that electricity, they are safe.

Marissa digs her nails into his shoulder, attempting to get closer in their heated kiss and Michael hisses at the pain. But he loves it. He loves this and he loves her. And there’s no way he’s losing her if she responds like this to his touch. There’s no way he’s losing her when she kisses down his stomach and takes him into her mouth. No there’s no loss here, just the sinking into the pleasure they both give each other.

“I love you,” he whispers into her skin. It feels like a prayer as it falls repeatedly, punctuating several thrusts.

“I love you,” she returns. It’s with a sigh, and a moan, but she looks at him when she says it. And for the moment that’s all he needs.

__________

The way South grins, Michael knows he’s fucked. The man doens’t even need to utter a sentence and Michael already knows the trouble he’s in. But South speaks anyway--and Michael for a brief moment wonders if South gets off on the knowledge that all he has to do now is look at someone a specific way and they shake in their boots. “How’s your momma doing?”

“Good,” Michael answers, “thanks for asking.”

“How’s Hood?”

Michael gulps. He wonders who the fuck is tailing him. South wouldn’t be bringing this up if he didn’t have proof. And one time is not enough. South’s always required pattern of behavior. He does not ask without a fair amount of evidence. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Bullshit! I told you he isn’t one of ours anymore. You think I’d come at you without evidence? Without something substantial?”

“No, I’m not saying that,” Michael opts. It’s still not the safe answer. But it’s biding time--that’s all he really has at this point.

“Then what are you saying? Because you’re implying someone’s a liar and I don’t take too kindly if you think it’s me.”

“I’m not saying it’s you.”

“You saying someone’s got it out for you then?”

“I’m not saying that either.” The only one that has it out for him is South, but Michael knows better than to say that.

“Then tell me what the fuck you are saying.”

“All I’m saying is that I wouldn’t know how he’s doing.” In fact, it’s been three weeks since they last hung out. Michael was trying to cool down the trail on him. So whoever was watching him was either delaying the reports or doubling up on them, and that would indicate either pressure from South for results or that whoever it was was going for Michael’s position or life.. But admitting that would mean again, admitting that he had gone against South’s initial warning. So Michael keps is mouth shut. Because the technicalities wouldn’t matter here.

In the silence, Michael steels himself for the first swing. He’s even ready for the second one. More keep coming to the point where he looses count. Not that counting them is like counting sheep. But keeping up with the blows, even with a small margin of error, meant he hadn’t fully blacked out. And that’s what he needed. In the end, it’s not too bad. He’s able to drive himself home, though his ribs are on fire. Breathing hurts, just sitting hurts too.

He grunts, opening the door and swinging his legs out. Inside the apartment, Michael catches the sound of some shuffling. He watches the shadows over the walls as Marissa walks into the bedroom. He sighs. He can’t face Mars. She’s going to flip, but this isn’t exactly the largest apartment ever. He grits his teeth and makes his way to the bathroom. Before he can get the door close, he hears a gasp. He’s been caught. Michael watches her look in the mirror, the wobble to her lip, the tears filling her eyes.

“It’s not too bad,” he reassures. “I’ll be fine in a couple days.”

“A couple days my ass,” she whispers. Her hands tremble. She wants to run. She can’t do this. She told Michael she was concerned. She knew it would blow up in his face eventually. South is pissed and there’s no stopping him now. “What-what can I do?”

Michael tries to tell her, he can handle it, but she orders him to sit on the closed toilet seat and he obeys the command. Her hands continue to shake as she helps clean up the busted lip and the bruise on his rib cage is bad, violently purple and red.

In bed, Michael resting on his back, Mars rests on her side, facing away from him. She understands why he does this. But how long will he defy South? How many more beatings are there going to be? This has to stop before it gets started. She can’t stand by and watch him get beat. He has to get out. She needs him to get out or maybe she needs to get out. And she wants to rip the thought out of her skull. She doesn’t want to leave Michael. But maybe she might have too. Maybe she might be forced to save herself.

Sleep does not find her that night or the nights after really. It comes in waves, for an hour or two and then she’s back awake, staring at ceilings or walls, or closet doors, wishing she could’ve done everything differently with him. Michael watches the bags forming underneath her warm eyes. He is doing this to her, not that he meant to, not that he wanted to. But yet, here he is, his actions bearing heavy burdens on her.

“What are you worried about?” he asks, sitting across from her. The diner is shockingly dead for once, a harsh buzz from the lights above settles in around him. Though Michael figures in the next hour people will be leaving clubs soon; they’ll be gunning for something greasy.

The sigh is heavy from her lips. Michael reaches out for her hand. Her lips screw up, plump like he’s always known them to be, but somehow the corners are turned down. She does not quite meet his gaze. “I’m worried about you getting hurt again. I can’t handle that. I’m thinking about how much more of this I can endure. And I--I don’t even want to think about asking you to get out. Not if the result is you dead. I want you alive.”

“It’s a couple of bruises, Baby. I’ll be fine.”

“Por Dios, you say that now. But what happens when it’s more than just a couple of bruises. What are you going to do then, huh?” She slides her hands out from Michael, standing to greet the patrons that just walked in.

Michael wants to promise her there won’t be a next time. He wants to promise that he can handle the warnings. But he’s already got plans to see Calum later this week. And the bruises still hurt. He can bear them, should it be at the expense of her?

Michael cancels the plans--he can handle that. And maybe he hasn’t been playing this smart. He tries to see if Marissa wants to go to the movies, but she picks up a double and those plans never get off the ground. Instead, he makes sure to have a bath drawn for her once she returns. Her favorite is ready for dinner and for a blip in time things could be on the right track.

But she doesn’t kiss him the same as before. And Michael doesn’t know what else to do when she rolls over in bed, away from him. They don’t share silly stories about their childhoods. And Michael misses all those stories about the casitas hanging on the walls. Or how Marissa couldn’t turn around in any room of the house and didn’t find some picture of the Virgin Mary or Jesus staring down at her. Michael misses hearing about the parties she missed throwing in the summer time, knowing the music could crush her skull but she loved it anyway.

Michael misses the way when she got sleepy Spanish would slip out without her even thinking and rather than stopping her, he’d let her go on in the story. She’d be telling him about the birthday parties with family holding the pinata and the smell of food that filled the house for days. The whispers were all he really needed to feel close to her.

___________

It happens and he knows it's happening too when he walks into the house to not even the muffled sounds of music. It’s on most of the time, always a soft tempo in the background, the soundtrack to her life. He knew it was happening all along. She touched him less, she stayed out more. They felt more like strangers in the apartment now. They past like ships, but instead they were sitting right in the living room growing further and further apart.

He was losing her; he came home one too many times bruised and bloodied. But he wouldn’t stop. South wouldn’t get rid of him; he’d just make his life hell for sure. But he was too valuable. Though, occasionally, Michael feared his value would be of no use. At some point, South would get tired of the warnings and beat him for good. But at the same time, South needed Michael--they both knew under all this it was South keeping up appearances. Because as much as Michael was breaking the rules, South wasn’t one to normally keep troublemakers around longer than they’d prove they weren’t going to stop.

But would it save Michael forever?

It was stupid to attempt to ride the thin line until it cracked. But it was all Michael had. He thought South would crack first. Or maybe he had hoped that so much that he believed it to be true. When all signs pointed to Mars being the first to go, he somehow ignored it, assumed that she’d be there forever. But forever isn’t as long as he’d hope for.

Because Mass was on the losing end of it all, having to take care of him. Having to take double shifts sometimes because there was no way in hell Michael was in enough shape to get out and push his weight. Mars had to reached her limit. And it was right in front of his face.

He watches her from the bedroom door, on her knees, throwing things into a suitcase. “I can’t do this, mamá, mi corazón can’t take it,” she cries into the phone.

His eyes are blurry, his side still aches from last week’s run-in with South. The sob pressing at his chest lights his being with fire. Everything hurts. “Then go if you must,” he whispers, “but let me ask you one question. Can I convince you somehow to stay?” He’s positive she didn’t hear it but Mars snaps her head up at him.

The tears are streaking her face, light gray splotches of mascara dotting her cheeks as well. “What are you talking– No, no, Michael. Let me call you back.” She pauses, mother urging to her not hang up. But Mars is no longer listening to the frantic barrage of her mother. “Explain. What are you talking about?”

“Is there any way I can convince you to stay with me?” Michael asks, letting the tears slip down his cheeks behind his glasses. It’ll make a mess of his lenses. He doesn’t care though.

“Convince me to stay? Comó? How are you going to do that?”

“That’s why I’m asking you. Whatever I have to do, I will do it.”

Mars stands, running her fingers through her hair. Her exhale is long and heavy from her lips and mouth.“No, there’s nothing. You won’t leave. Not with the complications now and the medical bills. You can’t leave your mother high and dry. And I can’t sit here and watch him beat you! I can’t do that--I’m not strong enough for that. I-I didn’t sign up for that.”

He’s lost her. There’s no more fighting. But Michael still tries. He gives it one more push. “I’m sorry. It’s not easy for you. But there has to be something.”

“Michael, there’s nothing, nada,” she hisses, standing toe to toe with him. “A fat nothing, zip, nil. Nothing.” The last word catches in her throat. Her body trembles.

Michael hugs her to his chest. “I’m so sorry, Baby. I am so sorry.”

She cracks, fisting the cotton of his black t-shirt into her hands. She doesn’t want to do this. She doesn’t want to leave Michael. He’s caring, always listening. He’s there for the 2 am diner shifts when her feet feel like they should be falling off and her back is a mess of knots. He’s there for all the music she blares throughout their–well his– apartment. He’s there even when she can’t shoot pool to save her life. He’s there for the baking adventures, even though they end up with him covered in flour and cinnamon.

She wants to hate him. She wants to despise him for going against South. But she can’t. Marissa understands why Michael did it. But she wishes she didn’t. It would make leaving so much easier. Her chest wouldn’t ache this much. Her voice wouldn’t be hardly going if she didn’t cry, because she couldn’t empathize with him.

But she has to look out for herself too. She can’t keep sacrificing for a person that wouldn’t do the same in return, that won’t heed the warning she’s tried to give them. So she has to go. Staying would only destroy them both.

Michael breaks the silence first. “Dance with me? One last time?”

Her chest compresses even more. Her throat feels raw as the sobs fall over it. But Mars nods. One last dance with him. She can give him that, and she can take that with her. That even to the bittersweet end, there was still so much fucking love between them. She’d never think of this, that it would be possible for her to be leaving but still want to stay and still have love to give.

Michael guides both of them to the living room, the place where all other dances were shared. She remembers the first time she asked him to dance. He was a little stiff, completely unsure of how to move what was expected of him. So she guided, gently encouraging and with a few laughs at his tense, awkward nature. And it’s not to say he’s a charmer now, but the aunties don’t tease him any more at parties-that’s for sure.

It takes a few moments before his phone is paired with the Bluetooth speakers. But it’s as the cellos begin singing, and before the voice cuts in, Mars feels her knees go weak. The song she taught Michael to dance to, Esto Es Vida. It played on repeat for nearly an hour, but the smile on his face when he finally got it still makes her heart burst.

They fit all too well together, arms winding around the other, her nestled so closely and firmly to his chest. His scent is all too familiar in her nostrils, a mixture of their detergent and his musky cologne. She can tell it’s residual from the last time he used it. It’s not as strong, just a faint note in her nose as her ears are filled with soft strumming.

Michael’s face is buried in the soft curls over hair, the lingering floral scent of her shampoo somehow feeling like flames in his nose. He won’t smell that thing again, not in fresh post fresh wash hair. It won’t be covering his pillowcases anymore. He won’t be able to still it for his own hair when it’s far too lazy to replace his own shampoo. God, is he really going to let her go? Is he really going to let her leave? But if there’s nothing he can do to convince, he won’t force to her stay. That’s the worst thing to do, forcing her to stay in a situation that makes her uncomfortable. He’s never wanted anything but the best for her.

And this is his life, Michael thinks as he helps pack the rest of her things. He should be crying, alone, shouting at her to stay. But instead, he lifts the suitcase into the trunk of her car. He watches the brake lights pulling out away from him. The house is empty when he returns inside. He curls onto the couch, ribs still screaming at him for being in such a position. He puts the song on repeat, a bad move for him as his chest finally cracks and the sobs shake his body.

It’s Penelope that comes by in the late afternoon the next day. She only forces him to shower, noting the takeout boxes she’s left in his fridge. But mostly comes by because she knows her presence should remain more neutral than Calum’s.

“I knew I was losing her. And I still did nothing to stop her.”

Penelope’s a reassuring presence, but even she doesn’t know what to say.

“I’m an idiot aren’t I? Just letting the girl I love walk away? But I want her happy more than anything. She deserves that, you know?”

“I know.”

“What do you think I should’ve done?”

“I think we make the best choices we can at any given moment. Something in you knew you had to let her go for now. Maybe it’s not forever and maybe it is forever. But either way, I think you made the best choice you could’ve in the situation.”

“But I want her back.”

“Wanting things ain’t a bad thing.”

“I should get ready,” Michael sighs. He needs to make a delivery. And if not for the fact that he wasn’t trying to be any further down on South’s shit list, he would continue his rant.

“Okay,” Penelope states, standing. “Now promise me tomorrow, even if it’s the only thing you do, you’ll take your trash out?”

“One small thing for myself,” he repeats back to her.

“Call me. Anytime.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

On instinct, after dropping off the bag, Michael finds himself pulling into the parking lot of the diner. When he cuts off the car, he pauses, one hand on the door lever to let himself out. Mars doesn’t need a ride anymore. He shouldn’t be here. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Michael strikes at his steering wheel, throwing his head back into the not too soft leather. His ribs are bruised, his Baby has left him, he’s cried his eyes out once already and he’s about to do it again. Michael closes his eyes, smashing his lips together as the tears roll.

There’s a knock on his window. When Michael snaps his eyes open, he sees Penelope standing, a sad smile on her face. He nods for her to slide in. Michael lets out a shaky breath. “I fucked up. Hard,” he whispers. “Like really fucked up.”

“I came here, just so you know, on a hunch you’d fuck up. Besides, this is real life. We fuck up sometimes.”

“You probably shouldn’t be here. Block and all”

“I’m not worried about him. He got his money. Anything else he wants is his problem. Not mine.”

Michael hums. Why did even talking hurt? Maybe it’s because he knows Penelope has more information that him. And he knows that she may not sure it even if he asks.

“She will always love you.”

Michael nods, staring out to the parking lot in front of him, huffing. He’s going to cry again. Huge sobs. He can feel it. “I’ll probably never stop loving her. But I can’t get out. Too much is on the line.”

Penelope gets it. He actively needs the money, his mother’s medical bills are still piling up. He can’t afford to leave now. “No one’s telling you to abandon your mother. This life just isn’t made for Mariss. And it’s okay that it’s not. In all honestly, I don’t think we’re meant for the shit we’ve handled. You and I don’t deserve the shit we were handed. But we all make our choices. Real life has real consequences.”

“I never meant to hurt her.”

“We never mean to hurt the ones we love.”

“She deserves better. I’m no good for her but I want to be better for her. I want to love her. I don’t think I’m built to love anyone else.”

“And if you think that, then you’re going to need a plan. And you’re going to need to get further than we did. That’s for damn sure. But right now, I want to know one thing. Did you get anything? I don’t know if you saw what I left in the fridge?”

He nods meekly. “Yeah. thanks for that.” There’s a moment of silence. “Where is she staying?”

“With Calum and I for the moment.”

That was a bad idea to ask. She’s not too far from him. He knows that way all too well. He can be there in fifteen minutes on a good day of traffic. But he just has to make sure she had a place to rest her head. Going back home would never be an option for her, he knew that much. “Do you think Mars will ever take me back?”

“You’d have to ask her and not do whatever you did that fucked this up..”

“I didn’t listen soon enough. I kept thinking I could have it all. Wanted me cake and to eat it too.”

“Sometimes we can, sometimes we can’t.”

“Should I even be worried about that? Getting her back right now?”

“Probably not, no. You should be worried about your ribs and eating. Keeping your place clean. Showering. Keeping a low profile. Your mother. Keeping your head down.”

“You said choices have consequences. And I don’t want Mars to be one. I don’t want her to be a consequence.”

___________

Marissa holds the phone to her hear, catching just enough of her mother over the ruckus in the background to understand that her mother’s talking about some from the church. “Don’t start this--not again. The last boy you tried to set me up--”

“Ahh-Marissa that was just that one who wasn’t all the way there. How was I supposed to know he was married? He had no ring.”

“I’m just saying your church boys don’t look like they’re going to make it to heaven. So I think I’d rather stick with my own bad judge of character.” She only needs to grab a card quickly and a couple bags of candy. The card for a family friend’s birthday and the candy because Marissa had been craving it for a week.

The card aisle is quick. But as she stares down the candy aisle of this pharmacy, she knows it’s going to take her a minute.

“What about--what’s his name? That white boy?”

She almost says his name but steps herself. “What about him?”

“While it beats me, you seemed happy with him. You ever think about reaching back out?”

Mars did--and she had. But it ultimately was ruining her so she had to stop for good. “I-I don’t even know if his number is still the same.” It was, but she didn’t tell her mother that. Penelope and Calum still had contact with him so that’s how she knew.

Mars carries on down the aisle, trying to see if she can spot anything that jumps out at her. But some of the shelves are bare. An associate’s working at the end of the aisle and she doesn’t want to be in the way. “They don’t have it.”

“Have what, mija?”

“The big bag blow pops. I see laffy taffy, but I don’t know.”

“Sorry ma’am, I’m working on restocking--”

Mars looks up just as the associate finishes with the box they’re breaking down. “Michael?” she breathes.

“Mars?”

“That’s his name!” her mother shouts. “Michael! I kinda liked him. Don’t tell your father that. But he always--”

Mars mutes the call--she can’t hang up unless she’s risking her life. “What-what are you doing here?”

Michael taps the name tag. “I kind of work here.”

“At a CVS?”

“GameStop never replied to my application. So I figured maybe they weren’t interested.”

And he’s still the same. A bit sarcastic, but easy going. “But wait, a CVS?” And she whispers it, like saying it too loud would cause a panic.

“It took me a couple years to get myself straightened out. But yeah, now at a CVS. And while it’s mundane and exhausting, I figured it was by time to get my life together.”

Marissa listens for a moment and her mother is still going. “Like him dancing at Jessie’s party. It still makes me giggle.”

“But, uh, about the blow pops. I’m 90% sure it’s on my car to reshelf. And I can make it 100% my next priority if you’ve got five minutes for me to find it.”

“Oh you-you don’t have to.”

“I mean they kinda pay me to have to, so it’s not a problem.”

“I guess then, I’ve got five minutes to spare.”

Michael smiles, turning back to the cart at the end of the aisle and crouches down. “I can feel you staring. So go ahead--ask away.”

There’s a lot to be asked. But Marissa’s more shocked than anything to get one of them to come out coherently. Like how did Michael get out? Is his mother doing well? Where was he staying now? Would South be looking for him? But instead all Marissa can do is stare. The glasses have changed, but he still looks the same. And she’s not even sure he’d aged at all in the time it’s been.

“Found it!” He calls tugging on the box to free it from the pile. He makes quick work to open the box with his blade and then hands a bag to her. “Also, if you don’t mind, maybe we could catch up over dinner? There’s this diner I used to go to all the time because of this really cute waitress.”

Mars grins. “I think I know the place. What time?”

“I’m off Thursday evening. Say seven?”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

#michael clifford #michael clifford imagine #michael clifford fic #michael clifford blurb #h writes #5sos fanfic #5sos blurb #5sos #5sos imagine #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #michael x latina oc #michael clifford fanfic #michael clifford AU

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5sospicturesque · 3 months

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Clearing out my camera roll 9718/?

#calum hood #selfie #plaid #plaid cal #snapback cal #5sos #5 seconds of summer #9718

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ohimthepeachiest · 3 years

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@hemmeplz @xohonest @xharryfreakingstylesx @luckywereallies @canigoplease @safetysins @littlebitafangirl-blog @letthehoodtimesroll @alleywaysuck-blog @rrvmi @the-perks-of-being-g @mainecal-blog @crashmeree @go-cal @superrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr @lmaoright @wynw00d-blog @calpalcuddles @fivesos111199994-blog @under-the-samee-sky @spearbit @infiniteoblivion21 @strangerjewels @avngrsinitiative @hahaha-ley-blog @social-outcastnay @gingerbreadcal @caffeine-clifford @golbach-and-brock-blog @rbtm10 @snapback-mashton-blog @gracealmiighty @lashtxxxn @ikrathemelon @newsiesgoil @cassikey @lashtonsnudes @stubblymichael @lost-boy-lucas @lameguitarist-blog1 @besidesclifford @strikingattraction @bethanydb1 @princessesgettingnaked-blog @dirty-malum @my-chemical-fall-out-boy13-blog @yaaboychriss @the-pastel-whore-blog @danxxsimms @bxdsun

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irwinkitten · 4 years

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boxed up lives | c.h

notes: we are on day two of the birthday fic week! these prompts were picked out by @gorgeouslygrace! prompts: “After everything that we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?” | “You make me happy.” warnings: none word count: 1.2k

donate to my ko-fi here

It felt like all you ever seemed to do was pack up your life to move into the next temporary place you would call home as you tried to maneuver living in the city.

“How many times is this in eight months now?” Calum’s exasperated whine from the living room made you snort in amusement as you folded the cardboard box closed.

“Third time in eight months. The first one couldn’t exactly be helped with the gas leak and all that.” You fired back as you lifted the box, placing it on the stack of boxes that were sat by your front door.

“And the rodent infestation in this place. You really know how to pick them.” And you rolled your eyes.

“Well I’m waiting on a phone call before we can start loading the boxes and then we’ll get going. How’s that sound Mr ‘Do-I-Have-To-Lift-This’?”

You heard laughter from the open front door and turned to see Ashton making his way to yours.

“Cal playing you up again?”

“When doesn’t he.” The whine from the living room made the two of you laugh before you made your way further in.

Calum had stacked all the boxes neatly and was lounging on the couch, his body leaning back, hands resting behind his head. You rolled your eyes as you glanced at your silent phone, wondering when you’d get the call before sinking next to him on the couch. Ashton perched himself against the stack of boxes.

“So this new place, you been to see it?” You nodded at Ashton’s question, sinking closer to Calum without even realising. His arm had shifted to rest across the back of your shoulders, almost a silent invite that you wanted to accept.

But you didn’t give in so easily.

“Yeah, it’s not a bad place. I know a few people were bidding on the property to get a holding deposit down, but I’d gotten there first.” Your ringtone broke the sentence and you were quick to pick it up.

“I’m calling about the property you’re due to move in to.” There was no preamble, no small talk and you could feel your stomach sink as you let your elbow rest on your knees, your chin resting on your free hand.

“Is everything okay?” This caught their attention.

“Not really. We’ve just been given notice on the site. The owner of the land has decided and received permission to tear down the property.” Your heart sank into your stomach whilst your stomach descended further into the floor.

“When was this decided?”

“The decision came through this morning. We were only notified a couple of hours ago. I’ll have the holding fee refunded back to your account. I really am sorry about this and I wish you all the luck in finding another place.” The call went silent and you could feel the panic and fear send you spiraling

You wanted to scream.

The world seemed to be going into a tunnel vision, your vision spinning. Both Calum and Ashton shouted your name, but it was only when Calum entered your vision, you allowed yourself to snap back and you finally noticed that you were struggling for breath.

“Slow breaths, c’mon.” Calum instructed and you followed him until your head cleared and the dizziness stopped.

“What happened?” Ashton’s voice was quiet, but you could see the concern in his features as you finally wiped the tears from your face away.

“The owner of the land, they got planning permission to tear down the property.” You saw them both exchange concerned looks before Ashton nodded and Calum refocused on his attention to you.

“”We’ll store the boxes at Ashton’s place for now and you’re staying with me. Roy moved out a couple of weeks ago so I was going to be looking for a housemate anyway.” Calum’s reassurance didn’t stop the pit of fear bubbling under the surface, but it placated the panic in your chest.

“Are you sure?” The question was barely a whisper but Ashton smiled.

“What are friends for? And anyway, you’ll be doing Cal a favour by staying with him. Your stuff is fine to sit at mine till you figure out where to go next. And maybe this time we can help you pick a place that doesn’t have a gas leak, isn’t infested with rodents and won’t get demolished.”

This drew a watery giggle from your lips as you took in slow deep breaths before you finally stood up, Calum steadying your balance.

“Lets get everything packed up to go then. I need to be out by six.”

Both of them made it easier by joking around, pretending the lightest boxes were the heaviest. The laughter eased the fear even more and by the time that the boxes had been unloaded at Ashton’s, despite the ache in your bones, you were reassured that you had people who had your back.

Eventually you got to Calum’s and you were practically falling asleep on him, making him laugh as he tried to nudge you to the spare room.

But you stubbornly clung to him, whining when he successfully got you into the spare room.

It was easy for you to pass out and let the stress of the day go.

When you next woke up, midday had come and gone and you felt more exhausted than ever. But you made yourself get up, dragging yourself downstairs to where Calum was sitting in the lounge.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty.” The tease was natural as you stuck your tongue out at him in return. He chuckled as you slumped down into the available spot next to him.

“Thank you for this Cal. This is all feeling hellish.” You murmured and he pulled you closer, his lips pressing to your temple.

“Can’t help but seem to need to rescue a pretty thing in distress.” You snorted at that.

“Shut up. Sometimes I feel like you’ve only ever helped me out of feeling bad and nothing else.” You admitted softly, causing him to pull away, an incredulous look crossing his features.

“Really?” Your confused gaze met his stunned one and you nodded. “You do realise that I’m entirely in love with you, right?”

Your confusion turned into shock as you stared at him.

“Calum?”

“Are you really fucking serious? After everything that we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?” And suddenly you could feel the shame of just trying to pass off each gesture he’d done, every touch, every kiss to your head. You felt lost for words.

“I’m sorry, I thought-I didn’t realise that you-fuck. I tried to fool myself into thinking you weren't interested in me like that because I was scared that we’d lose us.”

Your admittance softened his stunned look of frustration, to one of exasperated amusement.

“You make me happy. Why should I deny myself that with you?” And you felt like smacking your head off the coffee table.

“Cal, I’m so sorry. I’m a whole fucking dumbass.” You muttered and he could only smile as his hand lifted up, curling his fingers around your cheek, his grip firm yet gentle and you felt every wall you’d ever built crumble down in those few seconds.

“Kiss and make up?” He whispered and you could only nod, feeling your eyes fall shut as his lips met yours and you practically melted against him.

“We’ll work this out together, I promise.” He murmured when he’d pulled his lips away, his forehead resting against yours.

You could only kiss him in response.

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ofcallums · 3 years

Photo

CALLUM MARCHER ( BEN LEVIN ) is an EIGHTEEN year old from TORONTO, CANADA. HE is known around the island as THE GUARD because he is PROTECTIVE and DEDICATED but can also be GRUMPY and CLOSE-MINDED. HE reminds of bandaged knuckles, skates gliding over ice, and hunched shoulders.

BASIC INFORMATION

NAME: Callum Kai Marcher

NICKNAMES: Cal even if he doesn’t like it, would prefer being referred to by his last name

BIRTHDAY: November 15

AGE: 18

HOMETOWN: Toronto, Canada

BIRTHPLACE: Toronto, Canada

RELIGION: Atheist but will stand around (respectfully) at the temple while his mom does her ‘Buddhist stuff’ now and again

ETHNICITY: Half Asian/Half Caucasian

NATIONALITY: Canadian

EDUCATION: High School Senior

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

SOCIAL CLASS: Middle

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS

HEIGHT: 6′3″

EYES: Brown

HAIR: Black

BUILD: Broad, muscular

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Big ass bruise on his back that’s still healing because someone broke a chair over him recently (he’ll say it was a hockey injury though)

NOTABLE FEATURES: Bandages on his hands over his knuckles (says he slipped on the ice fist first even if that doesn’t make sense)

PHYSICAL DISABILITIES: His left shoulder is a bit fucked at the moment because he was rammed into a bar counter not too long ago

ALLERGIES: Pollen

PERSONALITY & BEHAVIOR

HOBBIES: Playing hockey, preparing and eating comically large meals, adding to his snapback collection, photography, gaming on his PS4.

LIKES: Spearmint flavored gum, Vancouver Canucks (rip 🙃), quiet places, eating (like genuinely, he’s made it a personality trait smh).

DISLIKES: Loud people, obnoxious people, people with really long coffee orders, vegans, people who wear patterned or bright colored shirts, people who wear chains and locks around their neck???, guys who wear eyeliner, people who wear sweater vests 🤮. But mostly, he hates the fucking Gen Z hand expressions/culture (particularly the Debby Ryan and the fucking pointing when talking). Legend has it, a friend sent him this TikTok and he got so pissed off he threw his phone on the ground. He had to explain that to his Asian mother, got berated for an hour, and now uses an old Nokia phone she had stored away until he can afford another iPhone. Oh, and also capers. He fucking hates capers. Edit: he also fucking hates guys who wear dangly earrings. It’s worse when it’s just one ear. Like if you’re going to commit a fashion crime, go all out and do both ears.

QUIRKS: Has a habit of putting his hands on his hips when he’s pissed off, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, communicating in grunts rather than actual words when he’s hangry or upset, staring with narrowed eyes because he wants you to feel judged

STRENGTHS: Good team player, athletic, disciplined, very caring and loyal to those he’s close to, willing to push himself to the limit for success

WEAKNESSES: Anger issues, doesn’t like new people, used to eating a large amount of food everyday so he’s very moody and irritable due to the lack of proper sustenance

POSITIVE TRAITS: Protective, Dedicated, Hardworking

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Grumpy, Impatient, Closed-Off

ZODICAC BIG 3: Scorpio Sun, Aries Moon, Leo Rising

MENTAL DISABILITIES: PTSD

SHARE 5 FUN FACTS ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER

His little sister went missing 6 years ago at a local fair his family attended and he feels like it’s his fault even though he was just a kid himself when it happened. Growing up, he’s overcompensated by being extremely protective of his friends/family.

Can kill a large slice of pizza in 3 bites. He’s got that Matt Stoney chomp and his meals lowkey look like a 10,000 calorie YouTube challenge. He is Not Doing Well™ with just eating nuts and berries, fam. Might kill a person for real food.

9 times out of 10 is wearing a cap because he can’t be fucked to do his hair. Most times he wears it front-facing, only wears it backwards when he’s working out or at home studying (yes, he wears caps indoors). Unforch, the cap he was wearing on the flight became fish food during the ‘crash’.

Hates being in front of the camera. Though, a good friend of his has a fairly popular YouTube channel and Callum makes appearances in a couple of their mukbang videos because he’ll do anything for free food, especially large amounts of free food. Lowkey, he’s pretty good at reviewing food and is very proud of the ‘bring Callum back’ comments he’s managed to earn with his word choice and palate.

Callum’s prized possession is this necklace that his sister gave him when he turned 12. He leaves it hung on the bedpost of his headboard so he doesn’t lose it. Every night before he falls asleep, he touches it and says good night. Knowing he’d be gone for a long weekend, he took the necklace and wore it under his shirt. He always does this when he’s going to be away from home.

WHAT WAS YOUR CHARACTER WEARING ON THE FLIGHT?

1x Nike SB Icon Pro snapback in olive

1x plain gray t-shirt his mom got from Walmart

1x Reigning Champ tiger fleece zip-up hoodie in black

1x black pants

1x pair of Air Jordan 1 Mid in olive

1x Under Armour boxer briefs in navy blue

1x black ankle socks

1x plain black belt

1x bearclaw necklace his sister gave him (under his shirt)

PLEASE LIST 3 PERSONAL ITEMS OF YOUR CHARACTER THAT WASHED UP ON SHORE

1x pack of Extra spearmint flavored gum with 12 sticks left in it

1x pack of Lay’s ketchup flavored chips that he got from the Toronto airport

1x 3oz tube of extra strength Icy Hot pain relief cream

#wilds.intro #about / callum.

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poguegarbage · 4 years

Text

Sober

Summary: A yearly summer fling for JJ ends faster than expected when you have a realization in the middle of the party of the summer.

Pairing: Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Warnings: Drinking/Alcohol, Drug Use, Mentions of Sex (nothing graphic...just implied!), Aggression/Physical Fighting as well as Verbal Fighting, Cheating

Word Count: 2,682

A/N: I put my writing playlist on shuffle and this song by Selena Gomez came on and I immediately got this idea...

Enjoy!

You don't know how to love me when you're sober. When the bottle's done you pull me closer. And you're saying all the things that you're supposed to... But you don't know how to love me when you're sober.

There was nothing quite like summer in the Outer Banks. It was the definition of freedom and carefree living which was one of the main reasons you looked forward to your yearly trip to the island every summer...

Which also meant your yearly fling with JJ Maybank would start back up again and more than likely tragically end for another year.

You were a Kook, simple as that. Your family owned a lavish beach house on Figure 8 and it had everything to make others jealous. The three story mansion with it’s own private dock overlooked the water and the in-ground swimming pool was to die for. Not to mention that it was heated. You could remember coming to visit the island for the summer every year since you were probably 6 or 7. Despite your living situation though, you never really fit in with the other kids from the neighborhood. While they wanted to stay in their fenced in homes and swim in their pools, you were out on your bicycle or riding some waves on the beach.

Your parents protested your actions but you knew it was for the best...

Which is exactly how you fell into place with the Pogues.

You could remember the day almost as if it was yesterday. You were on a bicycle ride around the island and you found yourself at the Cut. enjoying the new scenery. You were probably 13, if you could remember correctly. One second you were happily riding down the street and the next you were taking a turn too fast and colliding with another person on a bicycle.

“Watch where you’re turning that thing, will you?!” The voice from the other rider filled your ears as you laid on the gravel, picking your bike up as you stood and brushing the gravel from your skin.

“I could say the same to you,” was the only response you could think of as you looked up at the other individual standing in front of you. He was standing his bicycle up as well, adjusting the snapback hat on his head. His blonde hair was sticking out from underneath the hat and as he turned to look at you, your eyes met his. He quickly looked back down at the bicycle he was holding up as if he was trying to hide something in his eyes...which he was. He was rough and tumble, that much you could tell from the way he carried himself and the way he dressed. You were also on the Cut side of the island and he looked nothing like Figure 8 material.

Thirteen year old you didn’t know what love at first sight was...but you were pretty sure this was it.

“You’re one of the (Y/L/N)’s, aren’t you?” The boy asked, still avoiding your eyes at all costs.

You felt your shoulders fall a little. Of course. He knew about your family so you might as well kiss this opportunity goodbye.

“Oh, uhm...yeah...,” You managed to mumble out, still watching the boy in front of you. Silence fell between the two of you and you realized you should probably be going before the interaction grew any more awkward than it was.

“Well, I’m JJ...JJ Maybank,” The boy finally introduced himself and you felt a smile creep across your face. JJ. JJ and (Y/N). That had a nice ring to it.

“I’m (Y/N)...and you already know my last name apparently,” You joked and stretched your hand out to shake his. He laughed with you and gladly accepted the handshake.

“A few friends and I are going surfing just a few miles down at the beach...If you want to join...” He mumbled, looking down at his feet before looking back up at you.

“I would love to,” You smiled back at him brightly. “But I have to warn you, I’ll probably kick your ass at surfing.”

And just like that, a romance was blooming in the Outer Banks. Every year for the last 5 years.

It was the same routine and neither of you were particularly fans of it. You would stay in touch via texting over the winter months, FaceTime video calls also made this distance between the two of you better...but it was never the same as being side by side or in each other’s arms.

The two of you would be lying if you said you didn’t see other people in your time apart. JJ would get his fill of tourists to the island when you weren’t there and you actually had a steady boyfriend back home in Michigan where your family lived in the winter months when you turned 15. It wasn’t fair to him but, JJ was your fun summer fling...the little secret between the two of you...and he had been for years now...

Until the summer before your 18th birthday.

The Pogues were notorious for throwing the best beach parties but you wanted to treat your friends to a good, old fashioned Kook party. The party would be complete with the pool, party lights and the most expensive varieties of alcohol you could get your hands on...and by your hands, you meant JJ’s hands. You gave him the money earlier that day because you knew he had connections and could get just about anything your heart desired for the party. It was held at your family’s home when your parents decided to go to the mainland to visit with some family for a weekend. You had the house to yourself and decided to throw the party of the summer.

JJ came over early to help you set up and deliver the alcohol he had purchased. He was never one to be touchy with you. That just wasn’t how this thing worked between the two of you. So much so that The Pogues actually didn’t even know this summer love was a thing that happened every year.

The only time you could recall JJ being touchy with you the last two years was when he was either drunk or high. It was like he didn’t care who knew that you were his...even if it would only last a few months. He would proclaim to anyone and everyone that you were his and no one else could have you which would end in you giggling and shushing him until the two of you were a laughing mess in each other’s arms. The drunken nights usually ended with the two of you, in your room, under a tangle of sheets until the early hours of the morning when he would sober up and leave before someone found him in the house. You usually woke up to the empty spot in the bed with a sigh and the day would go on as if nothing happened the night before.

This night was no different than the last few summers. Everyone at the party was either drunk on the booze or high on the weed that was circulating through the crowd. The majority of the party group were Kooks but John B., Kiara, Pope and JJ had joined the fun just for you and for that you were thankful. You weren’t sure you would make it through the party without them. After about an hour or two of making sure your guests were all happy, you were buzzed from the strong drink that had been poured into the cup in your hand. You didn’t really know what it was and you didn’t care because it was getting the job done.

You snaked through the crowd and the music was so loud that you could feel it vibrating off stone of your patio behind the house. The pool was filled with people without a care in the world and you found your friends, The Pogues, sitting on the outdoor couches near the grilling area. JJ was the first to greet you and you could smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he wrapped his arms around you and planted a sloppy kiss on each of your cheeks. He made sure you tell you how beautiful you were which caused you to hit him playfully on the chest and begin laughing. You sat down between him and John B, exchanging a smile with John as you sat down and your eyes lingered on his lips a little longer than they probably should have.

To say there wasn’t something between you and John B. would be an understatement and almost everyone except for JJ could see it. The touches that lingered a little too long, the hugs that lasted longer than others when you left...

It was your secret but at the beginning of this summer trip, when JJ was away for your first week there, you found yourself collecting your things and silently creeping out of The Chateau at an ungodly hour of the morning. Your clothes were left on the floor and you were walking back to Figure 8 dressed in one of John B’s shirts and a pair of his sweatpants. During the entire walk home, your brain thought about his kisses and his touches. He didn’t need alcohol to touch you like JJ did.

You bit down on your lip gently as JJ pulled you into his side and you were pulled from your memories and thoughts. You were back at the party mentally but you didn’t even really know you left in the first place. Your hand lingered near John B’s for a while before you moved it to lean into JJ a bit more.

“(Y/N), have I told you how absolutely beautiful you look in these party lights tonight?” JJ slurred over the loud music and the other Pogues laughed along with you. He planted another sloppy kiss on your forehead while he held you into his side. “Hey...why don’t we get out of here and go somewhere a little less crowded...” JJ’s voice slurred as he whispered the words into your ear before kissing it gently. His sloppy and drunk kisses trailed down your neck which caused tears to sting your eyes.

“JJ stop...” You mumbled quietly, trying to push him away but he continued to kiss your neck, trailing over to your mouth. “JJ. Stop!” You said again but louder this time. You pushed his hands from your waist where they rested and quickly stood up, wiping the tears from your eyes and storming off into the house. JJ was quick to follow you through the maze of the house when suddenly the two of you were left alone in the foyer.

“(Y/N). (Y/N)? (Y/N)?!” JJ’s voice called as he followed you. What finally made you stop in the foyer was his hand grabbing aggressively onto your arm. “Baby, come on...what is going on with you.” His slurred words said as he struggled to keep his balance. He ended up leaning against the front door of the home, staring down at you as tears began to form in your eyes again.

“You, JJ. That’s what’s going on with me.” You said, wiping your tears quickly before they could fall. He frowned, looking at you and reaching out to grab your arm as you went to walk away.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” He slurred, his voice growing angry.

“This, JJ. This is exactly what I’m talking about. I never know if you actually....if you actually love me or not because the only touching that happens is when you’re drunk or high and we’re alone.” You said, ripping your arm away from his touch. You could see the anger and annoyance growing in his eyes and he grabbed onto your arm tighter. “JJ let go...” You mumbled but you knew that he wouldn’t.

“That’s not true...” He slurred, his grip tightening as he backed you up against the front door.

“Yes it is!” You yelled, ripping your arm free again and pushing the drunken boy in front of you. He lost his balance, stumbling back and falling to the floor with a thud. “Every time we sleep together, JJ, you’re not sober...every time you kiss me, you’re not sober....fucking hell, to even touch me you can’t be sober!” You yelled and the tears really started flowing down your cheeks as you looked down at the boy on the floor. He was half asleep, half awake...the alcohol taking a toll on his body for the night and you shook your head. “My point exactly....” You mumbled quietly. “You can’t love me when you’re sober, for some reason but you can when you’re like this. This isn’t the JJ that I fell in love with and it’s definitely not the one I want to be with now.” You said hatefully as you stepped over your friend who was still groaning and sprawled out over the floor from the fall to retreat back to the party outside.

You found yourself sitting on the couch with the Pogues, minus JJ and they exchanged worried looks with each other as you sat down crying between Pope and John B.

“Should we be concerned--,” John B began to say but you cut him off. It was mainly the alcohol coursing through your body that made the next actions happen. You were more confident and on top of that you were mad at JJ for his actions earlier. Your lips collided with John B’s and you leaned into the kiss as he placed his hands on your sides gently. He kissed back with just as much passion.

Soon though, the moment came to an end and it was hard to process what happened until after it was done. In a split second, JJ was there in front of the two of you and in the next second he was on the stone ground on top of John B. Punches were thrown left and right and pretty soon a crowd had formed around the two friends who were engaged in a full on fist fight on the ground.

“Stop it! You two stop it!!” You cried out, trying to separate the two of them. You could hear JJ mumbling curses under his breath, making sure the other Pogue knew that you were his. John B eventually was laying unconscious on the ground and Pope pulled JJ from him. Both were covered in blood and before you had a chance to even process what was happening someone at the party was yelling that the cops were outside. The neighbors probably called for a noise complaint.

You exchanged a look at Kiara who nodded and looked to Pope. She helped you grab John B from the ground, propping him up and basically carrying him out to your car. Pope was following closely behind with JJ in his grip tightly. You didn’t want to take the responsibility from the party and you were sure that the cops would eventually leave if the house quieted down and no one answered their knocks on the door.

Instead, you ran to the drivers seat, on your way to seek refuge at John B’s home on the marsh...It was stupid of you to kiss John B. and you didn’t really know why you had done it in the first place. You had probably done it because you wanted to make JJ jealous...deep down. You glanced in the rearview mirror at John B. who was half unconscious leaning against the window and JJ who was staring back at you angrily. Pope and Kiara were between the two, a barrier in case hard feelings boiled back to the surface.

You quickly looked away when your eyes met JJ’s and you directed your attention back on the road and the destination before you, The Chateau....

The place where you would have to mend your broken friend as well as your broken relationship with JJ....if that was even possible at this point.

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