cake oneshots || book two

Come On Baby (Pull Me In Slow) (E)

Credit: onotherflights

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1:15 AM.

Luke's face was illuminated by a tiny screen, the only light in the room. He had headphones in, blocking out the sound of the plug-in fan going next to him. Truthfully, it was too warm to sleep. He laid on top of the blankets naked, half-shut eyes scrolling leisurely through Twitter. He was restless, feeling hot and unfulfilled.

Calum had been working on a big project for weeks now, spending hours holed up in their home studio editing and recording. Luke was still listening to his old albums, it was what was playing in his headphones at that very moment, because Calum refused to let him listen to the new piece until the track was "decent". In Luke's view, every song and every lyric Calum produced was amazing. He was probably a little biased though.

The thing about being married to Calum was that music always came first. That wasn't to say Luke was a neglected husband by any means, he could just as easily walk across the house and plop down naked onto Calum's lap and get just the attention he deserved, but he wouldn't do that. Luke could only imagine what it was like to start building an album from the ground up. Calum insisted on doing the majority of the work himself, this album was his passion project, and Luke got that. Calum gave him equal respect when he was writing, and maybe that's why they worked so well together. They each had their thing, but at the end of the day what was made between them was more perfect than anything they could possibly create on their own.

As Luke lies there in the very beginning of the day, all he can do is breathe and sweat. It's so hot. He's about to get up and fiddle with their non-reliable air conditioning system, but that would mean getting up, and that doesn't seem favorable. He can deal with the dinky little plug-in fan on his bedside table. Of course, just as he's thanking the powers that be for his crappy fan, the damn thing goes out.

He whines, reaching out blindly in the darkness for the control buttons. After stubbornly pressing the "high" option a few times to no result, Luke cracks one eye open and looks to the window. The soft glow from the plug-in lights strung along the perimeter of the cedar-wood pergola is gone, meaning they've gone out as well. Those factors, combined with the general feeling of the house going silent like it's been deflated, causes Luke to add up to the conclusion that the power's shot.

Fucking perfect timing

Luke turns over onto his back bitterly, letting out a tired, hot puff.

At least his phone has some battery, so the song continues on. Calum's singing about blue eyes and the slope of his back, and even after all this time it still makes him smile, even when he's miserable and just wants to sleep. When the song first played on the radio, Michael had scoffed at Luke even liking the song, saying it was overplayed. Back then, no one knew the song was about him. It could be about anyone, he supposed, but he remembered seeing Calum again after hearing it for the first time. He remembered the look on his face when their eyes met, how he placed his hands so delicately on the small of Luke's back as he held him on his lap. It hadn't been until later, when he was sleepy and laying his head in the crook of Calum's shoulder, that he asked if Luke liked the song. He never did get a proper response, because Luke pulled him in for a kiss to silence any doubts.

That had been nearly four years ago.

Even though it had been a while, Luke still startled when he felt the bed dip. Of course he was reassured quickly, the light of a cell phone revealing that it was just Calum. And he looked just as frustrated as Luke must've.

"Hey," Luke muttered flatly, reaching up to take his earbuds out. Calum made no response, just leaned over Luke's body and dipped in to kiss his neck.