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better believe the sea of changes
and put these battered bones to rest
nothing invisible or nameless
leave no reason to confess
and raise our voices
higher, higher
It’d all been a whirlwind.
Ben hadn’t expected to see Callum through the window as they drove down the road. If he hadn’t seen him, maybe he wouldn’t have made the choice he did, called for the car to stop and jumped head first into a decision he should’ve made a long time ago.
His dad’s words rang in his head when he left the taxi behind him, ran to the market, blissfully saw Callum at the end of the aisle. Ben hadn’t planned at all what to say, didn’t even dare to hope to catch him. Before he knew what was happening he was shouting Callum’s name, vision tunneled on his tall form as he ran closer.
Then Callum was there, real and whole and kissing him like they’d been apart for years and Ben was so in love he couldn’t stand it any longer.
The sirens had passed eventually and Ben gathered up his family and walked them to the Vic where it was warm. He didn’t want to spend another second away from them ever again if he could help it. Lola texted Jay who ran into the pub, hugged Ben hard like he really had been gone, so full of relief and telling him how happy he was that Ben stayed.
Ben hung on to his brother and marveled at how he almost lost all this.
After dinner, Lexi falls asleep in her chair from too much excitement in one day. Jay picks her up and shoulders her. “Think we’ll go home and put this one to bed,” he says, handing Lola her coat and nodding at Ben and Callum. “You two should catch up.”
Ben doesn’t miss Jay’s smirk, Lola’s chuckle, and the way Callum ducks his head, tips of his ears going bright red. He buttons up his own coat and tweaks one of those ears playfully. “You heard ‘em, babe,” he grins.
“Come back to mine?” Callum breathes it like a question against Ben’s mouth, pressing him up against a brick wall in the alley. “Stuart’s out with Rainie, I texted him from the pub to make himself scarce —”
Ben’s tipped his head back, let Callum’s lips fall to the straining muscles at his neck. They contract when he laughs. “Don’t want to give them payback for all the times we had to hear them?” he says.
“Want you all to myself,” Callum answers, growling against Ben’s ear and they laugh together. It feels fucking incredible, more light and lackadaisical than either of them have felt in weeks. Somehow Callum holds it together long enough to not actually push him down onto the pavement right there in the middle of the road, and they get to his front door within minutes.
At the top of the stairs, their coats and boots come off in heaps, thrown around haphazardly. Callum doesn’t bother to turn on the light and they crash into the table again, just like the first time.
“What is it with this lamp?” Ben wonders out loud, righting it on the table again before he keeps kissing Callum.
“Fuck the lamp,” Callum says impatient and distracted, reaching behind Ben’s back, pushing it off the table. The crash of ceramic against the floor has Ben pulling back, eyes wide and staring.
There’s a beat before they both dissolve into a fit of laughter, Ben gripping handfuls of Callum’s shirt and dragging him into the bedroom.
After their clothes come off piece by piece, Ben murmurs “Callum,” into the darkened room. Head pushed against the pillows and writhing, Ben watches Callum drag his hot open mouth quickly down the expanse of Ben’s bared torso, fingers tightening into Ben’s hipbones. “Callum, wait.”
Ben tangles his own fingers into Callum’s to stop them, locks their eyes when he gets up on an elbow and looks at Ben. “You okay?” Callum asks immediately, face so full of worry that Ben has to reach down and run the pad of his thumb over Callum’s cheekbone.
“Perfect, I just…”
Ben chews on his lip. So much of their early relationship was hot and fast, quick trysts and stealing deep, secretive kisses whenever they could. Long looks from across crowded rooms had to tide them over, brushes against hands and cheek kisses that felt more intimate than sex. When they finally got together, properly, Ben felt like he was constantly distracted by his family, his dad, the business. Before he knew it, it was Christmas, Callum was telling him he loved him, and then they were over.
There’s a pause where they just look at each other, Ben trying to find words and Callum not needing them, because he’s had Ben figured out longer than either of them realise.
Callum presses another kiss at the soft skin of Ben’s belly, tentative and adoring as he crawls back up his body. Ben’s hands find their way up Callum’s strong arms, around his shoulders.
“Let’s go slower,” Callum suggests, connects their mouths again as he lays down next to Ben. “I missed you.”
Ben sighs gratefully into his delicate kisses, opens his mouth and tastes Callum against his tongue, caramel and lager and peppermint lip balm, and his heart rate slows. With the cool sheets sliding across his bare skin he feels more naked than ever in Callum’s bed, and not just physically. Like he’s been sliced open, nowhere to hide, with everything he feels deep inside spilling out for Callum to see.
“I missed you too,” he breathes out. And the truth feels foreign on Ben’s tongue, refreshing, incredible.
Maybe they kiss for hours, maybe it’s minutes. It feels never-ending to Ben and when he wraps a bare leg around Callum and arches his lower back, he finds the delicious friction he’s craving. Callum holds on, fingers digging into Ben’s thigh and squeezing every time he chases the taste of Ben’s tongue.
Ben leans up on his elbow and Callum’s there to support him, lets Ben set the pace and roll Callum onto his back, climbing into his lap. Callum opens his palms and Ben fits himself into them, anchored at his hip and shoulder, soft squeezes when they start to kiss again. A chill hits Ben’s back and Callum feels it, reaches behind Ben to bring the duvet up higher around his shoulders.
Ben gets his hands on Callum’s chest, feels taut muscle over hard bones and Ben’s mind reels. He glides across every inch, making sure Callum’s real.
“I can’t believe you’re here again,” Callum says between them, reading Ben’s thoughts. He palms a pair of long lines up from Ben’s thighs, past his ribs, up his back and around his shoulders. His eyes are wide and blown to black, two fuschia streaks across his cheeks and kiss-bitten lips to match. He looks beautiful like this, a four-course meal spread out underneath Ben, one he wants to spend all night devouring.
Ben edges down, drops hot kisses in a line through Callum’s sternum, into the pliant skin around his belly button. Nudging his legs apart gently, he makes room for himself between Callum’s thighs.
“I’m right where I’m supposed to be,” Ben reminds him from under hooded eyes, uses a loose fist to stroke Callum’s cock fully a few times, guide the leaking tip into his mouth.
Callum pushes his head back into the pillows and groans out a choked-off sound, and Ben grins.
“Fuck, your mouth,” Callum grips a handful of skin at Ben’s shoulder, fights against the urge to thrust up into the tight, wet heat between Ben’s lips. He loves it when Callum gets like this, out of control and writhing and surrendering to whatever Ben’s giving him. He hollows out his mouth, sits up a little and bends his back, bobs his head against the rhythm. His tongue swirls and his fist twists, point and counterpoint of delicious pressure that sends Callum’s brain into a tailspin of ecstasy and rips more broken noises from the back of his throat. Callum slides a hand into Ben’s hair and grips, tightens every time Ben hums deep in his throat.
“Thought so much about this,” Callum confesses quietly, voice strained with the slowly-building pressure. His free hand finds Ben’s, laces their fingers and presses them into the mattress. “You, back here with me.”
Ben slides off tentatively with a pop, kissing gently at the soft and sensitive pink head before trailing up, dragging his mouth against the concave skin between the curves of Callum’s ribcage. Fragile bones undulate with Callum’s breath, and Ben presses in close, relishes in the feel of Callum’s hands around his face, bringing him up to meet their lips again. Ben never wants to stop kissing him, ever, never wants to go another day without Callum next to him. It’s a striking thought, hits his mind like a lightning bolt, and Ben meets it with excitement. He leans down, presses their foreheads together.
“I will be anywhere that you are,” Ben promises between their kisses, voice hushed and secretive.
Callum’s own words back at him ignites something in him, and he wraps his legs around Ben’s waist, rolling them over hastily to get Ben underneath him. The blankets tangle up around their feet and Ben barks a laugh out loud, heart giddy as he parts his legs, lets Callum slide between them and roll their hips together.
“Does it —” Ben’s voice stilts at the sparks of electricity he feels when their cocks brush each other, “Does it turn you on when I get all soft on ya?”
Callum grins down at Ben, palm tugging at the thigh wrapped around his waist. “A bit, maybe, yeah.” He leans down, presses kisses sweetly into Ben’s forehead, cheek, neck. “Reminds me why I love you.”
Ben shuts his eyes when Callum finally gets to his lips, feels pleased warmth rising in his face but can’t bring himself to be embarrassed at all. Not when they’ve already been through so much to get here. It feels cosy and intimate in a way Ben can’t remember the last time he experienced, a quiet, cold winter’s night wrapped together under a warm blanket without an inch of space between them. Callum surrounds him in the best possible ways — physically, emotionally, mentally. Ben hasn’t felt this safe and secure in years.
It’s this security that makes him ease out of their kiss, reach up and touch Callum then, feather-light of a thumb swipe across his pink mouth. A soft skid of the back of his knuckles along the crest of Callum’s cheekbone.
“I tried my best to not love you,” Ben confesses, and he can’t get his voice above a whisper, barely gets it past the lump in his throat.
Callum’s soft eyes track between Ben’s glassy ones. Time feels paused here, nothing exists but their bodies touching at every possible point and the shrinking distance between their hearts. Callum holds Ben’s face delicately in his hands, thumbs caressing under his ears.
“I’m glad you stopped tryin’,” Callum whispers back, smiling down at Ben like morning sunlight.
Ben huffs out a soft laugh, emotion still raw and constricting his throat. He pulls Callum down by the shoulders to kiss him again, hungry and earnest and tightening his legs around him. “I love you, I love you,” Ben says against Callum’s kisses, wet and biting and guiding Callum’s hand between their bodies again when he can’t take it anymore. “Please, Callum,” Ben pleads.
And Callum doesn’t make him wait.
“Cal,” Ben finally whines out, a long time of prep and tortuously slow kissing, heart rate skyrocketing and chest mottled red. “Cal, please. I’m good. Sit up.”
Callum edges his fingers out carefully, slick and sore in the best possible way, and fishes his boxers off the floor to wipe them off. He sits back against the headboard and runs a hand through his hair, pushing the damp strands away from his eyes and trying to catch his breath. Ben finds the small bottle of lube under the pillow where Callum stashed it and looks up at him.
“You havin’ any second thoughts?” Ben asks, getting up on his knees and slinging a leg over Callum’s hips slowly.
“About this? You jokin’?” Callum answers, chuckling incredulously when he holds on to Ben’s thighs.
“About us,” Ben presses. “‘Bout everything.” The about me is silent.
Callum’s eyes go soft and his chest deflates. His heart breaks in his chest and just as quick, ignites so fiercely with love he wants to do everything he can to help Ben understand. He holds Ben’s face gently, tips it up to meet his eyes.
“I left for Christmas to get you out of my head. It didn’t work. When I got back, I took different routes to avoid walking by your door, by the car lot, by the Caf. It didn’t work. I went on stupid dates Rainie set me up on, foolishly entertained the idea of a life without you. It didn’t work.”
Ben’s hands land on Callum’s chest, heartbeat smooth and steady under his palms. It grounds Ben, helps him find his breath.
“I don’t work without you Ben, nothing does. I don’t know how this all happened or why or what’s coming next but that’s okay. Because I’ll be with you. And we’ll figure it out together.”
Ben surges up, gets on his knees and straightens his back to kiss Callum fiercely, smiling like a fool and happier than he’s ever felt. Callum’s hands fall down his shoulders, grip at his hipbones and tug in. His lips part and their tongues press together heatedly, and when Callum skates his fingertips lightly against Ben’s entrance, he delights in the full-body shudder he gets as an answer.
They get the condom on and Ben brings his hand around between them, Callum pressing a small amount from the bottle of lube into Ben’s palm. He kisses Callum, gets a hand around his cock and strokes, smiling when Callum sighs deeply, bites against Ben’s lips. The sound of Callum throwing the lube bottle across the room makes Ben laugh into their kiss.
“Guess you’re ready, babe?” Ben teases, love and happiness bubbling hot in his chest, a boiling spring against his ribs that burns in the most impossible way. Sex hasn’t felt like this in so long, fun and exhilarating and as intense as it is with Callum, and Ben never wants it to be any other way. He sits up and loops a hand around his own back, a few more blind strokes to get Callum’s cock lined up against him.
“Always ready for you,” Callum smiles back, holds Ben’s face against him when they kiss, Ben easing down slowslowslow.
“Stay close,” Ben pleads between their mouths, fingernails tracking through the close-cropped hair at the back of Callum’s head. “I want you close.”
Callum wraps his arms around Ben’s waist like claiming, palms sliding up the planes of his back. He can’t stop his hands from moving, re-learning every square inch of Ben’s skin. It’s felt like a lifetime away, too many nights cold and hollow and Callum never wants to feel that again. Never wants Ben to forget that Callum loves him or question his worth ever again.
“I’m here,” Callum presses quiet into deep kisses that Ben swallows down, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Ben’s hand slides through the sliver of space between their chests, wrapping a loose fist around his cock and tugging when he’s finally seated all the way down. Callum’s head falls back against the wall, his eyes roll shut, and Ben uses the opportunity to lean forward, pressing kisses against his bared neck. Callum lets out a relieved, breathy sound from the back of his throat and Ben grins into his kisses.
“Don’t tap out yet, old man,” Ben jokes, getting his hands around the caps of Callum’s shoulders. “We’re just getting started.”
He sits up and rocks down slowly again and again, and Callum’s head spins between his closed eyelids. “Ben, fuck, fuck,” he cries out, “You feel so good.”
Ben feels something primal swell inside him, pulls up Callum’s face to kiss brokenly at his lips, and Callum answers right away. He moves Ben’s hand aside and starts stroking Ben’s cock himself, Ben’s face changing as he tries to match his tempo with Callum’s.
“This ain’t gonna be my best showing babe, I’m sorry, been away from you too long,” Ben confesses, breath thin in his lungs, burying his face in Callum’s neck. Callum grips Ben’s hipbone with his free hand, helps bring him down over and over, Ben groaning.
“Me neither,” Callum assures, turns his face in to kiss against anything he can reach, Ben’s cheek, ear, neck. “Feel so good, Ben. Missed you. Missed this.”
Ben can only groan out affirmatives, yes and just like that and so good in agreeance. “I’m close,” he whines out, “Don’t stop.”
A truck couldn’t stop Callum right now, so he tightens the circle of his fist and swirls it up, runs his thumb over the shiny head of Ben’s cock and presses his hips up. The added force makes Ben throw his head back, a single bead of sweat running down his neck. Callum knows what gets Ben over the edge and he thrusts in deep, tugging hard on Ben’s hip to get him to face him again.
“Look so good like this, Ben,” Callum murmurs against Ben’s cheek, fists over his cock and bites at the shell of his ear. “So tight, so perfect for me, fuck,” Callum babbles, knowing the praise is what Ben loves in bed. Ben’s eyes are glazed, knot between his eyebrows as he rides on Callum’s lap, arms braced on his shoulders.
“Callum, Callum, right there—” Ben gasps, and his orgasm hits him without warning, bright starlight behind his eyelids and sharp gasp into his lungs rendering him silent. His head falls forward as he stills his motions, Callum gathering him against his chest when he finally chokes out an exhale.
Ben just takes a few seconds to recover, deep breaths in as he savours the feel of Callum’s hands sliding over his back. When he can see straight and his mind isn’t spinning anymore, he lifts his head and meets Callum’s mouth again, Callum opening for him immediately and moaning brokenly between them. Ben pulls them apart suddenly, plants his hands on the headboard and lifts himself up again.
“C’mon babe,” Ben pleads, rocking down harder and faster against Callum’s thighs, still full inside and Callum nearly trembling in anticipation underneath him, “Give it to me. I need you.”
"Fuckin’ hell, you’re gonna kill me, you are,” Callum groans, eyes sliding back into his head. “So close,” he grinds out.
Ben keeps moving, everything oversensitive, drags his fingernails down the tender skin stretched across Callum’s chest. They leave maroon lines behind them, crisscrossed like road maps, and he leans down, runs his tongue along the lines and bites against a mouthful of heated skin under Callum’s jaw. Ben delights in the pleading sounds Callum makes, pressing finger-shaped bruises in Ben’s ass as he tries desperately to get off.
“Come for me Callum, I wanna feel you,” Ben begs, hidden under Callum’s jaw and working on blossoming a violet mark there. Caught up in Callum’s hands all over him, he doesn’t care if people will see it, wants to cover Callum in marks if it means everyone would know Callum’s his, opinion of the square be damned.
He feels Callum’s throat seize in a silent cry against his shoulder, his hands tightening behind his back to bring Ben’s body impossible closer. There’s a benbenbenben gasped to his skin and Ben stills atop Callum’s lap, tightens his thighs around Callum’s waist and feels the clench inside him, over and over.
Ben sits up, Callum’s forehead on his shoulder still. He presses calming fingers through the sensitive planes at the back of Callum’s neck, up against his hairline. Ben whispers loving praise to his boyfriend, soft compliments pressed into softer kisses all over the flushed skin of his face, cheeks, ears. Anything he can reach.
His hands come to rest at Callum’s chest again, heartbeat erratic and slowly coming down. When Callum feels like he can breath, he gets his hands around Ben’s face and kisses him slow and satisfyingly, foreheads pressed together at the end to share the same air. Ben’s fingertips play like piano keys at Callum’s collarbone, his whole body warm and sated and loving the feel of being surrounded by Callum once again.
“I should probably go downstairs to the parlour,” Callum murmurs, breaking the silence, and Ben’s eyes fly open. He leans back and away, Callum letting his head fall back against the wall.
“What? Why?” Ben asks.
Callum sighs heavily, his hands dropping theatrically from around Ben’s face and chest deflating. “Because I think you killed me.”
Ben’s shocked into silence, mouth dropping open. It morphs into a surprised grin when he sees Callum crack an eye open, looking at Ben from the corner of his eye. Ben smacks Callum’s bare chest, another barking laugh bubbling up from his chest when Callum sits up and tackles him down onto the bed.
To say it was the best night’s sleep of his life would be an understatement. After cleaning up, he and Callum had laid awake even longer, talked for hours about everything they missed over the last month spent apart. Keanu and Sharon, how he felt when his dad threatened to drink again, what it did to his mind. Seeing Lola and Jay so happy together, Lexi dedicating her dance to him, Callum coming back home.
Callum listened to everything until Ben’s voice went hoarse, drank it all in gratefully and patiently because he loved Ben, every part. Even the parts that were broken and suffered, shattered pieces of love and trust and safety that Callum wanted to help Ben put back together.
you will get through this, Callum told him quietly, voices hushed in the rapidly disappearing night, space between them nonexistant. you will get through it because you are stronger than you realise. you deserve love, a life of your own, and everything good.
They laughed, cried, held each other for long stretches of time before the sun came up. It felt like a rebirth of sorts, like maybe Ben really could turn the corner and feel like he deserves something as beautiful and wonderful as a normal, mundane life with someone he loves.
Ben wakes late, evident by the sharp but cold winter sunlight spilling onto the bed through cracked blinds. It’s at least past eleven, and Ben’s arm he stretches out is met with empty sheets.
It’s only a split second his heart jumps in worry, but it’s a stinging reminder the demons and ghosts he hides deep inside him won’t be let go of so easily.
Getting out of bed to investigate, Ben tugs on his discarded boxers and wanders out into the lounge.
Callum’s bare back greets him, thin dishtowel slung over a broad shoulder as he faces the stove. Callum’s phone plays music low, something acoustic and plucky and Callum hums along as he works, cracking eggs into one pan and flipping bacon strips in another. Ben leans against the wall in the hallway a minute, just watching him flit between tasks, the long line of his spine moving against strong muscle.
“A guy could get used to waking up to this,” Ben teases as he strides in, and Callum looks behind him, spatula in hand.
“He lives,” he teases back, and Ben rolls his eyes. “Hungry?”
“Famished,” Ben responds, coming up behind Callum and sliding his fingers around hipbones peeking out above the elastic waistband of Callum’s pyjama pants. Ben holds him there for a minute, just appreciating the closeness, the quiet of the afternoon and the infinite stretch of time they have beyond them. “Thank you,” Ben presses into Callum’s bare shoulder.
It’s a thank youfor so much he can’t verbalise, so much more than he ever dared to hope for. For Callum being there, for being strong, for standing his ground and helping Ben remember that there’s good in the world when so many things have felt so bad for so long. For helping awaken a feeling of worth he’s only beginning to accept, a feeling of unconditional love he’s only starting to understand.
Callum lifts his arm, loops it around Ben’s shoulders and brings him closer, lays his lips to the crown of Ben’s head. It’s a soft, uncomplicated gesture, the simplicity not lost on Ben.
I love you,Ben feels against his hair, Callum’s steady heartbeat under his ear. It’s grounding, a foundation Ben sets the rhythm of his breathing to.
“I love you, too,” Ben answers.
The words feel foreign on his tongue. Refreshing, incredible. The best feeling in the world.