cake oneshots || book one

Its True (I Crave You) pt.2 (E)

Credit: bitscrawford

This is part 2 to "You were out of my league"

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Luke really should not be as nervous as he is right now.

His heart feels like it's going to explode right out of his freaking chest and his hands are shaking. He's standing outside Calum's dorm like a total dork, hand poised just under the peephole to knock, but it's so damn hard. Who knew that lifting a hand and slamming your knuckles against a piece of wood could be so difficult? At least he's halfway there.

He has no idea if Calum wants to, like, hang out or if he's just looking to hook up again. Luke's totally down for both, but he's not sure if he's okay with being some boy's booty call. Especially not one that he's had a crush on for months. He's got so many feelings already and the thought of them not being reciprocated basically makes him wanna throw up. He can already feel his stomach turning over, the bile rising in his throat as his nerves take over, pessimism blooming in his gut and growing in his head.

It's just that Calum's this totally cool jock - he has tons of friends all over campus and he plays football. There's always laughter coming from his room when he's home. (Not that Luke, like, stands there listening or anything. It's just that his own room is a couple doors down and he likes to keep it cracked when he's playing FIFA with Michael, likes hearing what's going on on his floor. It's kind of hard to miss sometimes.) Luke's not unpopular or anything - he's got friends. Michael's the only person he hangs out with on a regular basis, but there are people in his classes that he talks to, people he could text if he really wanted to. He's content.

But Calum's, like, 80 million miles out of his league. Or it feels that way. He's not sure.

He's two seconds from saying fück it and leaving. Why should he set himself up for humiliation when he already gets enough of that without even trying? It feels futile, trying anything with Calum. But then he hears a psst from down the hall and he turns, a crinkle forming in his brow as he frowns.

Of course it's Michael. Luke fights not to roll his eyes as he silently shoos Michael away, tries to get him to go back into their dorm room without causing a disturbance. All he can really see is a mess of bright red hair and puffy green eyes. It's 7pm, but it still looks like Michael's just rolled out of bed. But then his best friend is whisper-yelling at him and he sighs, glancing at Calum's door before half-jogging half-walking back to his own. "What the hell are you doing?" he asks, his voice low enough so nobody will hear but Michael.

"If you don't go in there, I'm gonna shove my dirty socks in your mouth and plug your nose while you're sleeping, I swear to God."

"What?"

"You've been talking about this nonstop for like a week. I can't listen to you whine about not hanging out with Calum for the next 3 years, so you have to go knock on that door before I punch you in the balls. I'm serious. I'm locking the door." And then his own door is shut in his face, an audible turning of the lock letting him know that Michael's not fooling around. He wants to pout, but he also wants to thank Michael for giving him that extra push, for knowing that he's nervous and unsure.

Luke hovers there for a moment, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against the cool, thick wood of his door, letting his eyes flutter shut as he takes a deep breath. But then he hears (and feels) Michael's foot colliding with the door and he flips off the peephole before trekking down to Calum's room once again. It's now or never.

At least Ashton, Calum's roommate and famed goalie of the football team, isn't home. That would only compound his humiliation.

Before he can stop himself or psych himself out even more than he already has, he knocks on the door. It's hesitant and way too quiet, but the door swings open almost instantly anyway, taking Luke by surprise. "Hi," he breathes, taken aback by how fidgety and laidback Calum looks. It sounds like an oxymoron in his head - how can someone be fidgeting, toying with the hem of their singlet and shifting their weight from foot to foot while simultaneously looking laidback and relaxed, hair naturally wavy and sweatpants hanging low on his hips? Luke's not sure, but Calum pulls it off perfectly.