Ghost ⇔ Cake ✓

Twenty Two: Gunpoint

Luke was laying on his couch, enjoying the serenity of his silent house before his parents could put it on the market. Golden sunlight streamed in through the windows, dancing on the hardwood floors, sending specks of dust floating through the air. The television was muted, lights flashing off his face. His cell phone was buzzing endlessly where it sat on his table. He knew it was from his brothers, no doubt nagging him about why he was at home at noon on a Tuesday. Luke wasn't sure why they were still trying to make him go to school. He had already unenrolled himself.

Luke couldn't believe how fast their tight group of four had dwindled down to one. Well, two if you count Calum, but he's just a ghost now. So really one. Michael off in some other country probably being stuffed into a suit by his parents. Calum's dead. And Ashton's in jail. Luke dragged a hand over his face, his fingernail catching momentarily on the ring around his lip. He had gotten it to spite Jack, but Calum had liked it so much he kept it. He still hadn't gathered the courage to take it off. 

There were so many memories in this house. Luke remembered Calum coming here for the first time after they saw him on the train, sitting tentatively on the edge of the couch as though Luke and the rest of them might attack him at any minute. He remembered way back, before anything happened, inviting Calum over for the first time. This was before Ashton was even in the picture. Making up some excuse of needing a tutor for math, Luke let Calum sit on his bed. His curly black hair falling into his eyes, his hand constantly reaching to brush it back before it tumbled back down again. He wore a t-shirt with a slightly stretched-out collar, so Luke could see the arch of his neck down to his shoulder blades, smooth, dark skin with the sunlight melting over it like butter. His voice, talking about numerical nonsense, kind and compassionate.

He remembered after their first kiss at Calum's, a couple days later they reunited at Luke's. They were awkward. Calum wouldn't make direct eye contact and Luke was trying a little too hard to catch his eye. They kept running into each other as they passed each other in rooms, Michael annoyed from the couch: "Just sit down and watch the damn movie already."

He remembered Michael leaving early and then it was just the two of them, sitting from a distance, Luke messing with the rings on his fingers. And then Calum spoke, "About the other day, I––"

"I hope I didn't––" Luke began.

"I think we were just––"

But as Calum finally looked up and Luke, at last, met his eyes, they both stopped talking. Calum didn't know what to say. In retrospect, Luke realized Calum probably struggled a bit with the whole oh I kissed a guy and I actually really liked it part. Calum was always talking to the girls in school, and having feelings toward boys probably was not in his 4-year plan.

Luke had closed the distance between them and cupped one hand around the back of Calum's neck, the skin soft and warm. He drew him close, pressed his lips against Calum's, and it just felt... right.

Luke took a deep breath from where he laid, now, on the couch. Calum was gone, mostly. And he was about to lose the house that carried all of these memories he held so close. But it wasn't enough to make him go back to school. There was no purpose for him there.

He finally reached over and took his phone, scrolling past the endless messages of his brothers yelling at him and moving to Calum.

Luke: Can I come over?

He added, carefully, as if they were just falling in love again: I miss you.

He waited a couple minutes watching the screen, heart racing, about to fall back onto the couch before Calum's bubble finally popped up.

Calum: You never have to ask.

Thank God. Luke stood up and grabbed his keys, heading toward the door.