cake oneshots || book one

Text Me Maybe

Credit: ercareyes

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For as long as Luke could remember, getting coffee at the local coffee shop had always been his and Michael's tradition. And it had always been his favourite time of the week. A moment to sit down and talk to Michael without his brothers' incessant screaming at the football match and then, once they moved to Melbourne for university, without the bunch of college kids bustling about outside one of their dorm rooms. They sat down in the coffee shop closest to wherever they were and just talked and laughed for hours and Luke loved it. Usually, anyway.

However right now, all Michael wanted to talk about was this guy with "glorious curly hair", "amazing eyes", and the "cutest laugh I've ever heard, oh my God, Luke". Apparently, Michael went out to a bar last night and met the guy of his dreams, who he then hooked up with. And Luke was happy for Michael, really he was. But he was on his second hot chocolate and Michael had already compared the guy's eyes to about 100 different things. To say Luke was getting exhausted would be the understatement of the century.

"So, I asked him what colour he thinks I should dye my hair next and he suggested green. That's such a creative colour. I bet he's a musician or something."

"I said you should dye your hair green months ago and you told me green was a dumb colour." Luke barely even glances at Michael when he responds. He stopped giving Michael his full attention around the second time Michael described his dream guy's laugh. Luke was too busy trying to subtly examine every single feature of the guy sitting a few tables away from them.

The guy had walked in about 20 minutes after he and Michael had sat down, ordered the most complicated coffee on the menu, and then sat down at a table and pulled out his laptop. He barely even took his eyes off the screen since then and Luke had barely taken his eyes off of him. He was tall, not as tall as Luke but Luke was used to everyone he met being shorter than him. The guy had the most beautiful dark brown hair Luke had ever seen and a way better fashion sense than Luke had.

Oh God, I've turned into Michael. Luke groaned internally.

"You're just bitter because you haven't hooked up with anyone in like 4 years." Michael muttered before taking a sip of his coffee.

"It's been like 4 months, not 4 years." Luke responds immediately. And if it isn't pathetic that he knows the exact amount of time. Michael smiles at him smugly. "Shut up."

"That's my line." But Michael still has this stupid grin on his face.

"I'll have you know I've been prepositioned lots of times since then." And that's a lie. Luke doesn't leave his room enough to be prepositioned. Michael knows that too. As his best friend, he knows where Luke is all the time.

Michael lets it slide though. "None of them up to the Luke Hemmings standard?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Nope" Luke says and avoids eye contact because he'd never really had a knack for lying.

"So, cute guy with the ripped jeans and band tee sitting a few tables back" Michael begins and Luke snaps his head up immediately. "He up to standard?"

Luke doesn't even try to say no. Michael knows his type well. Edgy boys with tattoos who could double as some sort of small animal in another life.

Michael takes his silence for confirmation and grins. "So why don't you have his number yet?"

"I would have his number if I wanted his number."

"You want his number."

"Fine!" And then Luke is out of his seat before he even has a game plan. How is he just supposed to approach this guy and ask for his number? How do people do this all the time? He's halfway to the guy's table when he considered turning back around and admitting defeat. But then he remembers Michael's smug smile and decides that imminent embarrassment might be worth it. At least if the guy turns him down Michael will feel like an asshole and buy him ice cream.

He's standing directly in front of the boy's table for what feels like forever before the guy even glances up. And Luke hears his own gasp when he sees how beautiful this guy's eyes are. They're dark and it sort of feels like floating in space when you look into them.

"Uh..." And that's a glorious start to this conversation. Luke kind of wants to be hit by a train.

"Mate, you alright? You look sort of sick" Fück, his voice. It's at that point that Luke decides this guy is way out of his league.

"My friend doesn't think I can get your number and he was being ridiculously annoying and this is really creepy but if you could maybe just write a fake number down on a napkin, it would really help me out." He figures asking for a fake number would be less embarrassing than getting shot down for real.

The guy looks at him for a second with amusement in his eyes before leaning across the table and picking up a napkin. He still doesn't say anything to Luke while he takes a pen out of his backpack and writes something on the napkin. He looks back up and holds it out to Luke but moves his hand back slightly when Luke reaches for it.

"Did you really want a fake number or do you want my actual number?"

And if that doesn't throw Luke for a loop. "Um, your actual number would also be pretty cool." He scratches at the back of his neck and he's sure his face must be as red as Michael's hair right now.

The guy smiles up at him and places the napkin in Luke's outstretched hand. "Okay."

Luke grins at him and closes his hands around the napkin. "My name's Luke, by the way."

"I'm Calum." He glances behind Luke to where Michael is not so subtly turned around in his chair watching the entire exchange. "And just to be clear, that's not just to get your friend off your back. If you don't text me, I'll be pretty bummed."

"Okay, I'll definitely text you!" And he sounds way too excited but he still can't believe that he just got Calum's actual number.

He spins around on his heels and walks back over to Michael.

Calum chuckles lightly at Michael's shout of "No fücking way!" that the entire coffee shop hears.