Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“One month to go, I bet it’s all you can think about! Two pints, was it?”

Callum moved his lips into a soft smile and gave a quick nod with his head. Linda wasn’t wrong. In only thirty days, he would be standing in the church waiting for Whitney to walk down the aisle, all of their friends behind him watching and waiting. He kept visualising the moment with different outcomes every time. All of them filled him with dread. Constant swirling filled his stomach, he was having to force food down his throat at dinner times so Whitney didn’t become concerned. He never ate anything for the rest of the day.

“There you go, love,” Linda said with a smile, as she carefully placed the two drinks in front of him. “A packet of salt and vinegar, as well?”

“No, you’re alright, Linda,” Callum replied, quickly handing over some change. He didn’t want to answer questions about why he didn’t have his usual and he didn’t want to talk about the wedding. He didn’t want to have lies slip from his lips every other second. It only fed the guilt and anxiety living in his stomach, made them become alive and force their way up his throat, catching on every breath.

The condensation on the glasses felt slippery as he picked them up and carried them back to the table. Callum slid one over to Jay as he perched on the edge of the booth. Picking up his own glass, he took a long sip of the cool, amber liquid that helped to control the fluttering in his chest just a little.

“I tell you, mate. If I ever end up like Mrs Goodwin, just take me out the back and shoot me,” Jay said, with a shake of his head as he lifted up his own drink. “Imagine wanting to kip in our backroom for a week!”

“It was sort of romantic, though,” Callum replied earnestly. “It’s a week until the funeral and she doesn’t want to be apart from her husband. It’s her final chance to say goodbye.”

The widow had been inconsolable as she sat crying in the meeting room. She wanted to sleep next to her husband until the funeral which was planned seven days from now. She even said she’d bring her own mattress.

“I’m fine with romance, but you can barely swing a cat in that place as it is,” Jay continued. “What with Big Nige accepting that delivery of coffins that we never ordered. That’s the last time we leave him in charge. I’m half considering letting Big Mo take them off our hands and see if she can flog them any quicker!”

Callum started to feel guilty. He’d asked Jay for the day off last week, claiming that he needed to sort some things for the wedding. In truth, he hadn’t done anything. He’d gone and walked along the river for the whole day, breathing in the air and trying to rid the feeling of suffocation.

“Mrs Goodwin did offer a lot of money though,” he said changing the subject back. “Weren’t you tempted?”

“Well, yeah, of course, but it’s hardly practical is it? What’s she going to do, pop upstairs and have her tea with you and Whit? That’s gonna put a damper on your love life, ain’t it? Having a third person involved.”

“Yeah, ‘spose,” he replied forcing a laugh from his throat. In honesty, a weeping widow curled up on their bed probably wouldn’t have made any difference to their sex life. He loved to sit on the sofa and cuddle Whitney, he always had. It was comforting and loving and it did make him feel good. He hugged her back just as hard, always pleased when she looked up with those big eyes and a happy smile.

Sex was never something he really initiated. It often felt strange that Whitney didn’t seem to notice that. He guessed it was because of his inexperience when they first started dating; she thought that he didn’t think about it the same as other blokes, or because of her history he was being sensitive to her feelings and letting her have control.

It would always start the same way. They’d be cuddled up together watching a movie and Callum would be contented. Then Whitney’s hand would start moving more and more around his chest. She would grab the remote and switch off the tv, stand up and take his hand, leading them into the bedroom.

He never undressed her, but he let her undress him sometimes. She’d rub him through his trousers and he’d will something to happen, his eyes squeezed shut so he could have images flash into his brain to help him along. In recent months, there had been only one face that he kept there. It helped him harden and perform the duty that was expected of him. Afterwards, he would crawl into the shower and sob, the hot water scalding his guilt away. He felt like he was cheating on both of them.

Other times, he couldn’t disappear into a fantasy no matter how much he tried. He was too aware of his surroundings and his partner. She was beautiful, even he could see that, with soft, smooth skin and delicate curves. Most men would have killed to have spent an evening in bed with her. Those nights when nothing seemed to happen, he’d complain of tiredness or that he just wasn’t feeling well. He couldn’t do that every time though so instead he lay her on the bed and put his hand between her legs and his mouth on her breasts. She would give him encouragement, tell him what she liked and where to move his tongue to. It felt robotic though, no different to when they bought a new bookcase from Ikea and put it together. She’d list out the instructions one at a time and he’d follow them to the letter. Those times felt like an eternity.

He didn’t really know what sex could be until that night in the park. It started off so gently, a kiss filled with emotion and sweetness. He recognised that, even though his heart was beating in a way it never had before. Everything seemed to move organically after that, like they were working in perfect tandem. The pure electric lust made him push Ben back against the bench, not wanting any air between or around them, just them together in a sealed vacuum.  His hands almost moved by themselves to undo the buttons of Ben’s shirt, his hand sneaking in there to feel the fine hair; to scratch at it with blunt fingernails, to feel the friction of his rough palm against tight muscles.

His hands didn’t stay content to be in only one place, they crawled down to Ben’s belt, pulling harshly at the loops and roughly pulling his zip down. He knew he lacked experience and delicacy, but Ben didn’t seem to mind, so he kept on at his relentless pace.  He soon couldn’t tell whose hand belonged to who as both of them were stroking, squeezing and rubbing their cocks with a frantic speed. He was never quite sure where Ben’s other hand was, he felt it scratching through his hair, scraping along his chest and grabbing at his arse all at the same time; the trace memory lingering to leave a heightened sensation all over his body.

Their mouths had been relentless in their movement too. Dirty, open mouthed kisses being messily planted with a clash of teeth that neither of them cared about. Tongues found their way into each other’s mouths and licked and sucked in a mirror image of their hands. Callum didn’t say much, the only noise being the grunt of pleasure and exertion. Ben was making the same sounds, but it was interspersed with cursed language and scandalous words of want. It only served to spur Callum on even further, grinding his whole body into Ben like they were magnets fused together as one.

Callum shifted in his seat a little at the memory of that night and tried to block it from his mind. It was too easy to go back there and now certainly wasn’t an appropriate time. He drained the rest of his glass, hoping the alcohol would ground him in reality a little. Jay’s phone vibrated and he quickly checked it.

“Billy’s got his kids tonight, as well as Lexie. He wants to know what time I’ll be back to help with tea. It’s like having a wife sometimes with him!” Jay complained as he threw his phone back down on the table.

Callum felt his body still a little with the message from Billy. “They’re back then, Lexie and Lola?”

“Yeah, yeah, back last night apparently,” Jay replied casually. “Lola’s gone to the salon to beg for some work from Denise again.”

Just over three weeks ago, Lola and Lexie had left for a holiday back in Newcastle, so he heard. Apparently, Lola had some friends up there and wanted to go back for a visit. It was unspoken, but he imagined Jay was part of the reason she wanted some distance. They hadn’t gone alone though. Jay had told him that Ben went with them, going up north to do a bit of business for Phil.

It had been three weeks, four days and five hours since the last time Callum had seen Ben. It was two days after Pride and he and Whitney were enjoying a late breakfast in the caff. He heard the door open and even though his back was facing away, he knew it was him. It felt silly to say that. There was a feeling in his body though; he just knew when he was around. He saw Whitney screw her face up and nod towards the counter. When he turned around, Ben was looking back at them, his face covered in cuts and bruises. He simply nodded at them both, took his sandwich and left. That was the last he saw of him although Whitney told him that Ben had been beaten up by a guy he’d met on Pride night. Or so she’d heard.

“And Ben. Is he back too?” Callum asked, plucking up the courage to get the question out. He just wanted to know so he could be prepared.  He didn’t think his heart could stand it if he just ran into him without any warning. Jay opened his mouth to speak, but before he could the door to the Vic swung open with force.

“Friends, Romans, Countrymen! Lend me your beers! Your leader has returned triumphant from battle! Serve me your finest ale, fruit and men. Silver platter optional.”

“Yeah, alright Caligula,” Mick replied, seemingly unflappable. “The orgy’s not until Thursday night so why don’t I just get your usual. Welcome back, Ben.”

“Cheers, Mick,” he said, as he took the bottle off the bar. He turned around and saw Jay and Callum. Even though he wasn’t looking directly at him, Callum knew Ben’s mouth was turning into a smirk.

Ben slowly strutted towards the boys. “If it isn’t my Walking Dead welcoming party. What, no banners, streamers or balloons to celebrate my return? No flags flying at half-mast?” he said, his tone full of mock.

“They fly at half mast when someone’s dead, you doughnut!” Jay tutted, then lifted his glass to clink affectionately with Ben’s bottle.

“No, you’re absolutely right. Standing to full attention it is. I don’t do halfway,” Ben replied, dragging out the last few words of his sentence in a slow, purposeful way.

Callum couldn’t resist any longer, he lifted his head up to look Ben in the eye. He was unsure of the look he was getting back. Ben’s face was light and smiling, but his eyes were questioning below the slight twinkle there.

“Budge up, Callum,” Ben said, approaching his end of the booth. “Unless you’d like me sitting on your lap?

“Leave off him, Ben,” Jay complained, as Callum slid further into the seat. “Some of us are immune to your charms you know. Might as well save your lines for someone you’ve got a chance with.”

“I should get going soon,” Callum said, feeling a little trapped. The memories he was thinking about earlier were still at the back of his mind and he felt unprepared to suddenly having the object of them so close. He felt his hands tremble as more emotion corsed though his body.

“Uh, no you don’t,” Jay replied forcefully, slipping out of his seat. “I’m your boss remember, and we closed up early to have a drink and we’re going to have a proper drink. I’m not going to spend all my evening stirring Billy’s bolognaise. Plus, the Emperor over here won’t be happy until we celebrate his return in style. Right, I’ll get another round in.”

The thought of sitting alone with Ben, even for just a minute and in a public, was just too much and panic set in. He quickly jumped out of the booth after Jay, both men looking at him expectantly. “Toilet,” he said, not even able to form a proper sentence.

Without looking back, he marched through the bar and harshly pushed the men’s room door open. Thankfully, it was empty in there. He leant against the sink, the cold ceramic feeling comforting against his hands. He pushed down the cold tap, water rushing out in fast moving drops. He leant down to splash some onto his face, helping stop the flush of his cheeks.

“All hot and bothered, are we?”

Callum turned around with a start, surprised to see Ben standing there. He didn’t hear the bathroom door open.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, half of him feeling settled just be being in his presence and the other half wanting to grab him and push him out the door and away from here. “You shouldn’t have followed me in.”

“Oh, that’s charming, that is. I can’t sneeze without a member of your family leering down at me with their bowling ball of a head but you’re the one complaining, when you know you wanted me to come in here,” Ben said, swaggering a few steps closer.

“I never said that,” Callum replied looking down, his hands finding each other and picking at his nails. He couldn’t deny it though. Not really.

“You forget that I see you. I can tell when you’re not being honest. I see though this bullshit mask you put up that seems to fool everyone else,” he said through gritted teeth, now standing directly in front of him.

Callum still looked down, picking harshly at the skin of his thumb. “Stop,” Ben said, roughly pulling his hand down. He kept it tightly in gripped in his own fingers.

“Someone could walk in,” Callum said, unsure of what else to stay but enjoying the feeling of Ben’s fingers rubbing along the back of his hand. He had missed this; he didn’t realise how much until know. The comfort it brought to have someone else beside you who could see your demons and help you fight them off.

“Are you saying that as something negative? I’m never quite sure with you. The perfect gentleman act doesn’t work with me, you know. I’ve still got the bench splinters in my arse to prove it,” Ben replied with a grin and a wink. He shuffled his feet so the front of their torsos were almost pressed against each other. “What’s the bet that if Ted walks in here, he doesn’t even notice? I could be bent over that counter with you pounding me from behind and he’d still make polite conversation about flowering begonias.”

Callum knew he was starting to blush and for the first time in a long time the monsters in his belly began to calm and be filled with desire instead of eating him up from within. Ben gently touched his chin with his hand and lifted it up slightly so Callum was forced to look into his face. There was a scar by his mouth that hadn’t quite healed. That wasn’t there before. He met Ben’s eyes, they were filled with want and things unsaid and he knew his own did the same.

“Jay will be waiting,” Callum said, cursing himself for trying out reasons to stop this feeling.

“Jay is deep in conversation with Mo. She’s trying to flog him some knocked off embalming fluid that Fat Elvis picked up,” Ben said, moving his thumb to Callum’s lips and gently running the pad along it, forcing him to part them just slightly. He edged his tongue closer, feeling the slight taste of Ben there. “I’ve been thinking about this mouth. About where else I want it.”

The blood seemed to just rush through Callum’s body at an alarming rate and he knew when Ben smiled, he could feel it too. “See, I knew you’d put the flag up at full mast for me,” he said with a chuckle, moving his hand down to feel Callum through his trousers, heavy, hot and hard waiting for him.

The sensation was too much and the monsters inside his belly reared their ugly head again. This felt too good, too perfect; it wasn’t right. “Did you say that to anyone in Newcastle?”

Ben dropped his hands and Callum knew the moment was over. He had ruined it like he ruins everything. His body already screamed out at him, the absence of Ben being pressed up against him making everything feel foreign again. “What does that matter? Are you expecting me to become a monk? What about Whitney? Are you seriously trying to tell me all you do is cuddle and share eskimo kisses?” Ben said, raising his voice slightly and taking a larger step back.

“That’s different,” Callum spat back, finding his voice and the resentment that was lingering over Ben’s disappearance. “You were all over me at Pride and then you suddenly vanish into the night with some random guy who beats you to a pulp! Then you just go away for a month, probably saying exactly the same things as you’ve just said to me to some guy you chose based on his six-pack, trying to charm them and then ditching them for a newer model the next day.”

Ben stuttered out a harsh laugh. “Tell me something. Big brother still about? Or has he retreated back under his bridge to scare some billy goats?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Callum asked, confused by the change of subject. “Stuart’s been really supportive actually. He’s helped so much with the wedding.”

They didn’t discuss Callum’s confession on the day of pride. Stuart seemed content that he had vowed it was Whitney that he loved and only wanted to be with her. It was like Callum had never said anything and he wasn’t about to bring it up again. He hadn’t told his brother the thoughts and feelings that festered below the surface. Whitney was thrilled with all of Stuart’s help, surprisingly. He had thrown himself fully into helping with organising the wedding, phoning around everywhere to make sure the day would go smoothly, especially as they had organised it for so soon.

“You do hear yourself, right? You’re giving me stick for dating, when you’re busy picking the flavour buttercream for your wedding cake,” Ben said, leaning back against the wall.

“I didn’t ask for you to follow me in here, as much as you would have wanted me to!” Callum said, frustrated at how this conversation was going. He knew it was a lie, and so did Ben but this was the circle that they kept on going around in. “I love Whitney and we’re getting married, so just leave me alone from now on, alright?”

Ben didn’t react as he thought he might. There was no sarcastic comment, or dramatic gesturing. He simply folded his arms and cocked his head. “Not that it matters, but that night at Pride, you were the one I was there for and you were the only one I arranged a meet up with.”

Callum wrinkled his forehead in confusion. He didn’t understand what Ben meant. Something within him knew he needed to find out, but before he could have the chance the bathroom door swung open.

“Alright, boys?” Ted said cheerfully as he came in, looking from Callum to Ben. “Beautiful midsummer evening out there. I’ve just been looking at the new blooms in the Square. You should go see them while they’re there.”

There was a silence thick in the air, yet the older man seemed not to pick up on it. “Thanks, Ted,” Callum said, walking towards the door. “I’ve got to get home to Whitney. I’ll have a look on my way.”

As Callum went out the door, he heard Ted mutter something about young love. “It’s overrated,” Ben responded as the bathroom door closed with a clatter. He made his way through the bar which had become much busier. When he got outside, he breathed in the fresh air. There were still questions he had about his conversation with Ben, but he had to learn to put that all behind him. He loved Whitney and was going to marry her in a month. All these other thoughts and feelings could be pushed down, buried away in a box. He had a great girl, a nice flat, a good job and caring friends. Most people would be thankful for just one of those things. Ben was a blip, a slight bump in a road who had just used Callum for his own amusement, and he let himself get sucked into it. Everyone had cold feet before they got married, didn’t they?

Chapter Text

“Jay will be just a minute, Mrs Goodwin. Can I get you some more tea?”

Callum smiled sympathetically at the elderly lady as she grasped on tightly to a tissue in her hand. She didn’t use it though. The last time she had been here, they had practically used up a whole box of Kleenex, each fresh new hankie soon turning into a soggy mess. The tears from her eyes were unable to stop falling, her requests coming out in choked sobs.

There was a calmness to her now. She looked more put together. Callum was thankful that her grieving was passing. She seemed a nice lady, even with the strange request of wanting to be with her husband’s body here at the funeral parlour until the service. Now, Jay had just gone to fetch her husband’s ashes for her to take home.

“No thanks, love,” she replied, gently patting his hand. “At my age, more than one cup and I spend half my day in the loo!”

Callum genuinely smiled. He liked talking to the clients. He knew most people would screw their noses up at his job, but there was a sense of duty and purpose in it. These awful things had happened and maybe he could just bring a breath of comfort. “Was everything ok with the service?”

“I don’t really know, dear,” she replied, shaking her head. “I can’t really remember any of it.”

Callum was confused, he didn’t think Mrs Goodwin had any problems with her memory. “I’m sorry,” he replied, though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was apologising for.

“Oh, don’t be so silly,” she said good naturedly. “It’s not your fault. I’m sure you boys did a fine job. It’s just when my Richard passed, it was like I couldn’t control anything. I couldn’t cry for days. In fact, the first time I did cry was when I was sitting in here. I did feel sorry for you poor young men for having to deal with a weepy old crow like me.”

Callum shook his head to elevate her doubts. “Really, it’s fine,” he responded. “It was completely understandable.”

“Aren’t you sweet!” she replied, her fingers rolling the tissue around in her hand. “The day of the funeral was a blur. The finality of it was hitting home. It seemed surreal, like it wasn’t really happening. Like when you wake up from dreaming. It’s like it’s actually happening but it all fades to nothing, like whispers of smoke.”

“Are you feeling better now?” Callum asked, genuinely concerned for the lady.

“Oh sweetheart, you don’t get better,” she replied knowingly. “You just get used to breathing without them there.”

“You and Mr Goodwin were married for a long time, weren’t you?” he asked, remembering the obituary. “Seventy years?”

“You’d think we would have had enough of each other, wouldn’t you?” she said with a smile. “All that time, you’d think it wouldn’t hurt so much. All these love songs about the pain of losing a first love. You don’t hear many about loosing a love of a lifetime!”

“Was he your first love?” Callum asked. He found the woman compelling for some reason.

“Oh gracious no. I was married before him, you know?” she replied, sitting up straighter. “I was only a slip of a thing. He was lovely and he was going off to war. He never came back.”

“You married again though?” Callum asked. He couldn’t believe that the lady had been though two losses in her lifetime.

“Well, I was still only young. A girlfriend of mine, Lizzie, wanted me to go dancing with her and her young man. He was a bit of a rogue you see, a real reputation he carried and he always strutted about like he owned the place. Her family wouldn’t let her see him without a chaperone though,” she recalled. “Well, I refused initially. I didn’t want to play gooseberry all evening. I always was a soft touch though, so I agreed in the end. Lizzie had even found a date for me so I wouldn’t feel left out.”

“That’s the night you met Mr Goodwin?” Callum asked with a smile.

“Indeed,” she replied. “All four of us danced the night away. He really was the loveliest young man, such a sweet smile and just the happiest eyes you’ve ever seen. He was an absolute perfect gentleman, walked me to my door and not even a kiss on the cheek.

“That’s romantic, “Callum said, thinking how it reminded him of when he and Whitney first dated.

“So, off I went to bed and the next thing I know I hear a banging at the door,” she said, her eyes glazing to one side as if transporting herself back to the moment. “I answer it and there standing in front of me, three sheets to the wind, was my friend Lizzie’s boyfriend.”

“What did he want?” Callum asked, enthralled by the story.

“Well, he stood up straight, gave me the most arrogant smirk you’ve ever seen and said ‘Mary Nichols, I’m going to marry you one day.’ Well, it was the most preposterous thing I’d ever heard, so I responded ‘Richard Goodwin, I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth.’ Then I slammed the door in his face.”

Callum’s mind was catching up with the story. “Wait, so Mr Goodwin was the arrogant fella you didn’t like? The one that was seeing your friend?”

“Well, I may have left some parts out of the story,” she said, almost shyly. “I kept noticing his behaviour because I kept noticing him. All the posturing was just an act, eventually I saw underneath that bravado. He’d been at war too; he came back, unlike my first husband, but you can’t unsee some things. They stay with you forever.”

Callum understood that more than most. “You helped him,” he stated quietly.

Mrs Goodwin smiled wistfully. “I like to think we helped each other.”

“What about your friend, Lizzie, did she ever forgive you?” Callum asked.

“We didn’t speak for a long time,” she responded regretfully. “But we ran into each other now and then, occasionally having tea and cake. I think she understood in the end. You can’t choose love, it will find you whether you like it or not. It’s not all about who should be right. It’s about what feels right.”

Before Callum could ask anymore, Jay returned with a box containing Mr Goodwin’s ashes. It felt strange suddenly, sadder, the fact that he’d heard about this impulsive, brash young man determined to win over this reserved young love. He understood now. Mrs Goodwin’s grief wasn’t getting better. How could it? She was just trying to breathe.

When he came back to the flat, he couldn’t help but keep the elderly lady in his mind. He knew she didn’t have very many family and friends in the area, so he wrote his mobile number on the back of a business card in case she needed anything. There was no way he could let her get the bus, so he called a taxi and gave the driver 20 quid to make sure he’d help her out when she got home. Now, all he wanted to do was sit down on the sofa and watch some mindless movie, the conversation with the widow earlier plaguing his thoughts.

Not a moment after he’d settled in his seat, the door burst open, a giggly gaggle stumbling into the flat. Whitney was laughing so much that she didn’t even realise Callum was there at first.

“Alright, babe,” she said, once she saw him in the darkened living room. Her hands were laden with bags. “Dark in here, ain’t it? Tiff, get the lights.”

Following Whitney with even more bags was Tiffany, who dutifully slammed on the overhead light, taking Callum out of his sequestered retreat. He now saw a third person in the group, Chantelle, who seemed to be carrying enough for an around the world holiday.

“Just because you work with dead stiffs, Callum, doesn’t mean you have to sit around in the dark,” Tiffany replied, frowning towards him. “Even vampires can have a lamp on.”

“Tiff!” Whitney exclaimed, giving her sister a little slap on the arm. “Callum’s been working hard all day to pay for the wedding. I’m sure he’s got a good reason, ain’t you?”

She didn’t get it. Why should she? She didn’t understand the need to just stop, to try and breathe. “I was just about to turn a film on. The lamp makes a glare on the telly,” he explained, hating to have to reason his actions, just because he just wanted some peace and for all the noise to stop.

“See?” Whitney said, nudging Tiffany. “Smart mouth. Vampires ain’t even dead, are they?”

Chantelle looked at her worryingly. “Of course they’re dead! They’re immortal bloodsuckers without a pulse,”

“Well you could say the same about Ian Beale!” Whitney responded through laughter and the other two girls chuckled along.

“So are we going to have some wine to go along with our fashion show!” Tiff asked, giving her sweetest smile. “It is a special occasion. Only one week till the big day!”

Callum really didn’t need reminding. Every day for the past few weeks, he’d had a running countdown from every face he met, ticking away the moments.

Whitney squinted her eyes towards her little sister. “Only a little! I don’t want you throwing up over my veil! Are you staying in tonight, babe? We’ll go into the bedroom if you want to start watching your film.”

Callum just wanted some quiet; he couldn’t bear the thought of listening to the continue shrieks and cackles of the women in the other room. He felt guilty just thinking it and he really couldn’t deny Whitney the pleasure of having a great time. The thought of them preparing for the wedding, their wedding, just left him feeling sick. He needed to get away from it, not have a running commentary through the door.

“I might pop down the Vic,” he replied, trying to sound casual and not as though his whole body was buzzing with the thought of just getting to the door. “You don’t want me getting in your way.”

Whitney tilted her head to the side, her eyes going wide, and approached him with open arms. “See, this is why I’m marrying you,” she said, squeezing him tightly.  “You’re just the kindest, most considerate man I have ever met.”

“I think I’m gonna vomit even without the wine.”

“Tiffany!” Whitney screeched, quickly letting Callum go. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to take back that bridesmaid dress and get you one that’s got more lace than one of Dot’s doilies.”

As the two girls launched into affectionate banter, Callum was soon forgotten. He grabbed his keys, phone and jacket and left the flat without another word. The air outside sliced through his cheeks and his chest became less constricted. There was no one in the night he had to lie to out here. Apart from a few stragglers, the street was empty and he could just relax and pretend he was good enough.

Almost without thinking, his legs carried him toward the Vic. In the back of his mind, he thought about heading towards The Prince Albert, the allure of it pulling him in. That was until he realised how awkward he would feel there, hiding in plain sight, trying to avoid the faces that would recognise him and look at him questioningly.

Swinging open the door, the bar looked empty, at least from this side. He waved a hello to Mick, calling out for a pint as he made his way towards the men’s room. A chat with the landlord would do him good. He was practically family and hearing about anything that wasn’t wedding related for an hour would be a welcome relief.

Once his hands were clean and dry, he turned around to go back out to the bar. Without warning, the bathroom door slammed open and a shape hurtled towards him with such force he stumbled back into the counter, bringing the figure with him.

“You’ve gotta be careful in pub loos. You never know what you’ll catch.”

Callum froze a little at the sound of the voice, before glancing down at the sight before him. Ben had one knee on the floor and the other leg was crouched below him. One arm clung on to the counter top, while the other had its fingertips on Callum’s hip, hooked in one of his belt loops.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Ben said, mockingly. He tried to stand up but when he eventually reached full height, he ended up staggering a few steps into the wall.

“You’re drunk,” Callum said, though it didn’t surprise him. Since their conversation a few weeks ago, the two men hadn’t spoken. They’d been in the pub on a few occasions at the same time as each other and passed wordlessly in the street once or twice. It had been a surprise to Callum that Ben had stuck to his request of staying away. He had expected it to turn back into their normal routine the next day, with Ben raining sarcasm and sass onto him constantly.

“I’m sorry, did you say something? You couldn’t possibly to talking to me, because you just want me to leave you alone, right?” Ben retorted, his eyelids heavy and a slight slur to his speech.

“Why don’t you go home?” Callum replied, shaking his head. This was not what he wanted tonight. He just wanted some peace and quiet; he wanted these demons in his head to hush, not get louder.

“Why don’t you?” Ben said with a haughty smile. “Wifey will have your dinner on the table by now won’t she? Go on, run along like a good little husband.”

“We’re not married yet,” Callum said, immediately wondering why he felt the need to point that out.

Ben grasped behind his back for the wall and slowly slid down it until he was sitting firmly on the floor with his head on his knees. “We should get one of those blue plaques in here. Maybe I’ll mention it to Shirl on the way out.”

Callum didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t just leave him here in this state. In truth, he didn’t want to. It was so easy to kid himself about whatever was going on when Ben wasn’t around. He could push down all those betraying thoughts and ignore everything that wasn’t directly in front of him. “What are you going on about?” he asked, not sure how coherent the other man would be.

“You know, those little plaques you see all around London? ‘So and So, some famous whatsit, lived in this house for three months.’ We should get one of those.”

Callum wasn’t quite following, but there was just something pulling him in, listening to Ben talk. He knew at any moment he could get bitten, but with Ben slouched down by the wall he just seemed so vulnerable and it hit Callum right in his heart. He almost hadn’t noticed that the noise in his head had stopped.

“What exactly would it say?” he asked, keeping his tone casual.

Ben looked like he was pondering the question for a moment, as if he hadn’t made the initial comment in the first place. “It would be right here,” he said, smacking the wall with such force that Callum worried he may have hurt his hand. “It would read ‘Ben Mitchell and Callum Highway. Sold their souls here for three months. 2019.’”

The implication of the comment was clear and it made a surge of frustration run through Callum’s veins. “You think I’ve sold out?” he asked, trying to keep the timbre of his voice calm.

“Mate, I think we both have,” Ben said, seemingly unaware of Callum’s distaste. “You’ve lied in here, you’ve begged in here, you’ve threatened in here and you’ve been groped in here. You’re like the seven deadly sins rolled into one.”

“Stop it,” Callum pleaded. His emotions were wrought today already. He couldn’t stand Ben trying to pick him apart.

“I’m not saying it negativerly…nagetively…I’m not saying it in a bad way,” Ben replied, his slur becoming more pronounced. “I’m not the rest of them that treat you like some giant teddy bear they can just carry about, cuddle one minute and use as a punching bag the next and expect it to keep a smile of its face. You’re human; flesh and blood and desires and yearnings. Fuck them, if they want to put you in a box.”

Ben went silent then and Callum felt like he should never be anywhere else but here. He sat down on the floor with his back against the counter mirroring Ben’s stance. “What about you?” he asked, almost in a whisper. “Why do you get to be on the plaque? What’s wrong with your soul?”

Ben lifted his head and gave a loud laugh. Callum stilled for a minute, worried that Mick would hear and come in to see what was going on. He honestly wasn’t sure what he would tell him if he did. “You are joking, right?” Ben asked incredulously. “Where have you been? Do you want me to list off all the reasons why people around here hate me? Do you want me to tell you all the awful things I’ve done?

Callum shrugged and hung his hands over his knees. “You’ve never done anything awful to me.”

He could see Ben’s eyes soften. “Okay, I take it back, you haven’t sold your soul, we’ll scratch your name off the plaque, or maybe just draw a little halo above it,” Ben responded, a little more lightness and humour back in his voice. “If you can look at me and think that, you really can see the best in everyone.”

“Not everyone. Only you.” For half a second Callum didn’t even know if he said that out loud. Ben’s face was frozen and he was holding his own breath. Ben looked as though he was going to move, his body flinching slightly, before he seemed to have second thoughts.

The corner of his lips lifted slightly as his eyes looked down and Callum took that moment to study him. For all his extroverted posturing at times, he couldn’t help but think that this was the real Ben. The one that perhaps only he got to see.

“The apple fell far from the tree with you, eh?” Ben muttered quietly.

“What d’ya mean?”

“Well, Daddy dearest is a homophobic arsehole. No, wait, scratch that. He’s an abandoning, homophobic arsehole. Psycho brother follows well and truly in his footsteps, only he’s lurking around every corner like your own personal skinhead stalker. Then, there’s you. How’d that happen?” Ben asked, looking at him curiously, like he was some gallery exhibit.

Callum shook his head in disagreement. “I know Stuart has his faults, but he’s not that bad. Not really.”

Ben sat up a little straighter now, seemingly sobering up some. “D’ya know what? You’re absolutely right. As he was kicking the ever-loving shit out of me, I remember thinking what a top notch bloke he really was.”

“What you talking about?” Callum asked, though pieces of a puzzle were now very quickly clicking together.

Ben couldn’t quite seem to look him in the eye. “Pride night,” he stated, “I got a text to meet you in the Arches, though when I got there I found a beady eyed baldie instead. Ain’t quite what I ordered.”

“Those bruises and cuts you had? They were from him?” He thought back to Ben’s face a few weeks back. Everyone had said it had been some fella he’d met up with and had a scrap. He knew something wasn’t quite right though. He should have ignored his head and listened to his heart. It always spoke the truth, even when he didn’t want to hear it.

“It was my fault,” Callum whispered slowly.

“It really wasn’t,” Ben said, scooching along the floor until he was sitting with his back against the counter as well.

“It was!” Callum said forcefully. “I told him. I told him about us.”

A little ripple of surprise hovered over Ben’s eyes. “Well, in case you weren’t sure, he didn’t take it well. I’m not sure I’ll be invited to be a part of the Highway family Christmas card just yet.”

Callum thought back to the discussion in the restaurant. In a way, there was such a wave of relief when he told Stuart about Ben. Just saying those words out loud made it seem real, not just some imaginary confusion in his head. He knew his brother wouldn’t be happy about it, but that’s why he was so insistent that he was going to marry Whitney.

Ben softly touched his arm in a way that he could barely feel between the layers of his clothes, but enough to know he was there. “He’s deluded. He thinks if I’m not around, you’re suddenly going to be pinning up pictures of playboy bunnies above your bed.” Ben said, the heavy feeling of his hand making Callum think there couldn’t possibly have been a time when the other man wasn’t in his life. “He thinks that he can punch out any feelings you have for me. He thinks he knows us.”

Callum was suddenly aware of his proximity to Ben. The whole one side of their bodies were now pressed up against each other. He turned his head and found Ben’s face so close that he could feel his warm breath on his cheek, the slight aroma of smoky bourbon tinging the air. There was silence all around, just the sound of their breathing in tandem. Ben’s eyes were soft, but still held that determined fire there and Callum thought he’d never be able to look away.

“There you are sunshine!” Mick exclaimed with annoyance, as he walked through the door. “I think you’ve spent enough time decorating my porcelain with the contents of your stomach, don’t you?”

Beside him, Ben shifted and pulled himself up by the counter. “I think that bit of pie Shirley served me was dodgy,” he said, still slightly wobbly on his legs. “She does have a slight whiff of Sweeney Todd about her.”

“Well, you’d be the lunch time special tomorrow if she heard that. Right, come on out you go. You too, Halfway,” he said beckoning them out of the toilets. “You don’t work ‘ere anymore, mush. You don’t have to look after the half-cut punters.”

They both followed Mick out into the bar. Ben precariously planted himself on a bar stool. Callum was just about to sit next to him, suddenly feeling brave about the direction their conversation was going in, when Linda appeared in front of him.

“I know what you’ve been up to,” she said, firmly. Callum felt like his heart had fallen to his stomach. His mind started racing with a thousand threads of electric wire pulsing damning thoughts into his brain. “Wh…what?” he said, the words stumbling out his mouth.

“You, hiding out in the gents to avoid all the wedding talk going on at home,” Linda replied, giving him a gentle swipe of the arm. “Don’t look so guilty, Mick practically lived in our toilet during the final preparations for our big day.”

“Right, yeah,” Callum squeaked out, hoping that the colour hadn’t completely dropped out of his face.

“Well, off you go home,” she said, shooing him towards the door. “I’ll have no part in your deception.”

Linda gave him a squeeze on the arm and the retreated back towards the bar to collect some glasses. Callum had one hand on the door. It would only take a second to walk back, to lean down and kiss Ben on the lips. They could sit in the bar all night and it wouldn’t matter if they got too drunk or if people raised their eyebrows at them or glared in their direction. He wouldn’t care, because they were there together and no one else could touch them.

In his chest, his heart was still pounding. The way he just felt when he thought Linda knew everything was horrific, like someone had smashed the world around him. He couldn’t go through that again, let alone all the repercussions of whatever fallout there would be if people definitely knew. He just wasn’t strong enough.

Before he could change his mind, he forcefully pushed the door open on to the street, the still air hitting him. He knew he should just keep going, stride back to Whitney and tolerate the wedding plans. He couldn’t help himself though, he had to look back.

Ben was spun around on his stool, propping his elbow on the bar and leaning on the palm of his hand. Callum had never seen his eyes look so empty, almost accepting. After a few seconds though, his whole demeaner changed and the last thing Callum remembered seeing before the door swung shut was a mischievous quirk of Ben’s lips.

Chapter Text

Callum realised that you never really get used to working with dead people, but a level of normalcy soon creeps in. The first few days of working at the undertakers left him feeling odd, like he was an intruder on other people’s pain. Now though, he realised the importance of his job. Every case was sad in its own way, especially when the person was young. However, he had learned to sympathise with their grief, not to let it slide into empathy. He could step back and not linger on the sorrow when he left for the day.

Staring sadly at the body in the casket that belonged to the elderly woman, he just couldn’t do it this time. It was only a mere few days ago that he and Mrs Goodwin were chatting about her life when she came to collect her husband’s ashes. Yes, she wasn’t young in years, but her mind was sharp and her health seemed good otherwise. A neighbour, who was the executor of her estate, had come into the funeral parlour to confirm all the arrangements. He told Callum that she hadn’t had any pre-existing illnesses that anyone had known about. He thought she died of a broken heart.

That had been early this morning, but it seemed like a year ago now. The shock of this lady, who he’d felt a connection to, suddenly be brought in by Big Nige had overwhelmed him. Callum had been sitting with her for a few hours now. He wasn’t even supposed to be working today, he just popped down because he left his jacket in the office. Then he discovered what had happened to Mrs Goodwin and he couldn’t bear to leave her alone. It gave him a little time to reflect on the week. It had just passed in a whirlwind.

Whitney was beside herself with the wedding plans. Every hour brought a new emergency, whether it was the florist not receiving their payment, a wrinkle that wouldn’t disappear from her wedding dress or the fact that the photographer was only driving down from Leeds on the morning of the day.

For every slight dilemma, Callum received a minute by minute commentary from his fiancé. He didn’t reply to every text sent and generally Whitney didn’t seem to mind that, she just continued her rants. Occasionally, he’d message her that everything would be alright and ask if he could do anything. She never took him up on his offer and for that he was grateful.

It wasn’t only Whitney either. Every single person he ran into had some comment or opinion about his nuptials. Whether is be sage advice from a long-married couple or mocking comments from his single mates, it was relentless, like a ripple of waves trying to drag him under when he was swimming back to shore.

He gently brushed the hair away from Mrs Goodwin’s face. “I’m so sorry this happened to you,” he said softly. “I hope wherever you are, he’s there too.”

All week, he had been so focused on forgetting everything and ploughing on with the wedding, trying to ignore that night in the Vic where his resolve with Ben nearly broke. There was that glimmer there that night, a light at the thought of getting away from the restrictions of what he had cursed himself to. It was a thrilling idea, to just sit with someone who seemed to know the real you, even just for a moment.

Everything had very quickly tumbled back to reality with Linda’s words. He wasn’t living in some far-fetched movie where everything ends up perfectly in the end. He was no story book hero. There was no fairy-tale ending. His happiness would be heartache for so many people, but he knew he was the one that deserved to suffer. He had to ignore what his heart wanted and go with what his brain was preaching at him.

On top of that, he had to deal with Stuart. He couldn’t just let everything carry on as normal once he found out that his brother had viciously attacked Ben on Pride, of all nights. The next day Callum had stormed round to Dot’s house to confront him, time only making him feel more and more anger at his actions. He’d felt guilty at not being more contrite to Ben, the thought of him having to keep taking beatings from his family. He didn’t deserve that and didn’t understand how he could be so strong through it. Why hadn’t he returned the favour and knocked Callum’s lights out?

Unfortunately, Sonia had told him that Stuart wasn’t there. He’d gone away for a few days, that she didn’t know much but he’d got himself involved in some situation with Max and Rainie. Callum felt at a loss, he’d built up all this frustration and needed to release it somehow. He found himself in a back alley, smacking his hands against a plastic wheelie bin until they were numb. A stinging pain gradually made its way back and he was shaking all over. Thankfully, he’d done little lasting damage, just a small bruise near his pinkie finger; the reminder of his actions.

As he made his way across the Square, he saw the door to number twenty-five swing shut. He had to give it another try. It was his stag night tonight and he just knew that Stuart would turn up to that. He couldn’t really have the conversation he wanted to have with his brother in front of half his neighbours.

Callum loudly rapped at the door, hoping that the returning figure wasn’t just Sonia coming back from a night shift. She didn’t seem in the best mood when he knocked repeatedly on the door the last time. However, when the door opened, there stood his brother, a beaming smile on his face. “There he is, the man of the hour,” Stuart called, happily. “Come in!”

Callum entered the house, carefully wiping his shoes on the mat before following his brother into the kitchen. “Where have you been?” he asked, his tone sounding cold to his ears.

“I’ve been caught up in a little bit of Branning bother,” he said, a little too vague for Callum’s liking. “That’s what you get for trying to help, eh? Missing out on your little brother’s wedding preparations.”

“You didn’t call,” Callum responded, not wanting to get drawn into any more of his brother’s troubles. He knew whatever Stuart had been involved in, it wasn’t purely altruistic.

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?” he said, turning his back to Callum and switching on the kettle. “Were you worried I was going to miss the big day?”

“No,” Callum answered directly, though he was sure Stuart perhaps misconstrued the meaning.

“You want a cuppa?” his brother asked. “We’ve got to line our stomachs for the big night tonight, eh? Don’t want you to look like you’ve just puked in a hedge in your wedding photos tomorrow.”

Stuart continued to get the milk out of the fridge and splash some into the mugs. “You ain’t coming,” Callum said firmly, after a little time.

Turning around and emitting a slight laugh, he brother looked incredulous. “Do what? Of course, I am! It would look a bit strange for the best man not to be there at the stag do, wouldn’t it?”

“You ain’t coming to the stag! You ain’t coming to the wedding and you ain’t gonna be my best man!” Callum replied, his voice getting louder and louder as he released the comments he’d been holding in all week.

Stuart looked at him, squinting his eyes like an eager vulture. His face fell from a jovial grin to a deadly grimace. “What’s he said?”

“Who?” Callum asked, needing to hear everything from his brother.

“You know who!” Sturt said, his tone and intent loud and critical. “Mitchell! Is he bothering you again? Has he been whispering in your ear with his perverted little ideas?”

“No!” Callum said, defiantly. “Perhaps that’s because he found it difficult to speak with half his teeth knocked out! Why did you do it?”

Stuart looked shocked at the question. “I did it for you, Callum. You’ve got too good a heart, you don’t notice the liars and scumbags out there looking to take advantage of you!”

“Ben hasn’t done anything wrong!” Callum shouted, guilt flooding over him. “I told you about me and him so you’d understand.”

“Oh, I understood alright,” Stuart replied, pacing around the kitchen. “There was nothing wrong with you before. You had a good bird and then along he comes. He manipulated you, Callum. That’s what people like him do!”

“People like him?” he asked, gritting his teeth.

Stuart held his hands up. “Look, I got no problem with his kind doing what they want with each other in the privacy of their own bedroom,” he started, the disdain in his voice clear. “But some of them don’t just do that. They try and recruit men like us, try and turn us to their ways. That’s what happened Callum. He knew you were a soft target; you’ve always been easily convinced.”

“I wasn’t talked into anything!” Callum wept, his head in his hands. “Everything I did happened because I wanted it to.”

Stuart vigorously shook his head. “You said to me that it was only Ben you’d…well, if you were like him then there would have been other fellas wouldn’t there? You’re not like that, Callum.”

“You don’t understand,” Callum said, gripping his hair in frustration. “I wanted him, I kissed him and he’s not the first bloke I’ve had thoughts about!”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Cal,” Stuart said, a pleading tone to his voice. “It’s wedding nerves, that’s all. Cold feet. Why would you ask Whitney to marry you if you didn’t love her, eh?”

He did love Whitney, so much, but then he loved Linda and Tina too. It wasn’t the passion of noticing someone, of having that person always meet your gaze in the room, of being with them even though it could cause trouble. It wasn’t that sort of love.

“I don’t want you there tonight,” Callum said firmly, and he shook his brother’s grip off. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

For some reason he thought Stuart would call him back or shout after him. There was only silence. It unnerved him. It wasn’t like his brother to let someone else have the last word.

On entering the pub, Callum wouldn’t exactly call the atmosphere celebratory. There was a wonky banner hanging across the bar that read ‘Welcome Stag Night’; the word ‘home’ had clearly been covered with some sugar paper lettering that had Tina’s handiwork all over it. There were a few balloons littered about, that he had bought at Christmas, and there was a table laden with enough sausage rolls and cheese and pineapple sticks to sink a battleship. The whole place screamed of a seven-year old’s birthday party.

There was the faint sound of some nineties pop record lingering in the background. In the corner, he could see Patrick and Ted, chatting and laughing over a few glasses of rum. Billy, Robbie, Kush and Martin were slowly supping pints at the bar. These were all people he liked. These were all people who didn’t know him.

“Halfway, my son!” a voice behind him called out. Mick sauntered up to him and slung a friendly arm around his shoulder. “Welcome to your last night of freedom. Let’s see you off in style!”

Callum let his gaze fall around the room once more. “Alright, it might not be the most lavish hale in the world, but we haven’t really got going yet.” Mick said, an apologetic tone to his voice. “Come have a sit down. Pint, is it?”

He let his head nod in agreement and decided to take a seat with Ted and Patrick. “There he is, the man in question! How you feeling?” Ted asked, jovially.

Callum wasn’t entirely sure he could answer that question, not in any honest way. For a start, he’d have to first know himself what was running through his brain. It was all going so fast that he couldn’t really pin it down. It was like trying to see the people on board a tube train as it raced through the station. You could see blurs and flashes of shapes and colours, but nothing tangible or easily identified. That’s what his mind felt like to him. He just wanted everything to slow down so he could see clearly.

“I’m alright, Ted,” he replied casually, giving the man a socially acceptable answer. Mick came over and slopped his pint on the table, before putting his own down and pulling up a bar stool. Tracey was manning the bar this evening, so the landlord was free to enjoy himself.

“Alright!” Patrick said mockingly. “This is the evening before the most important day of your life, man! We’ve all been there; we know that your knees are knockin’ and your stomach is twistin’!”

“Is it that obvious?” Callum asked, glad that for one day at least his demeanour could be explained and accepted, even if it wasn’t for the purpose that everyone thought. At least he didn’t have to hide and push down his emotions so much, even if it was just for one night. He was expected to be emotional.

“Nah, not me,” Mick said, sitting up straight and preening. “I knew it was meant to be with my Linda. Course we had been together over twenty years at that point, so took some of the suspense out of it.”

“I was a bundle of nerves the night before my wedding,” Ted added, smiling wistfully. “But excited in equal measure. The best decision I ever made in my life.”

“You can’t beat that feeling,” Patrick interjected, raising his glass. “Knowing you’re marrying someone that’s your whole world. To love!”

The older gentlemen clinked their glasses together in toast. Mick joined them, downing a big gulp of his pint soon after. Callum was so busy raising his own glass that he didn’t hear the door to the pub swing open.

“Christ! Is this a wake, or what? Bit of a busman’s holiday for you, Cal!”

Callum swung around to see Ben standing in the doorway. He had his hand tucked into the pockets of his dark leather jacket. His head was cocked to the side and he was looking at Callum with the same expression as he had when the door shut last week. It was one of determination and purpose.

Right behind Ben, were Keanu and Jay, who were looking around the room with barely hidden disdain.

“Nice banner,” Keanu said, unable to put enthusiasm into his tone. He was clearly trying to find something to like about the lowkey celebration.

“Shirley have the glitter glue out again?” Ben retorted with a smirk, looking up as one of the letters fluttered to the ground. He took his hands out of his pockets and clapped them together. “Right then! Jay, go put some half decent music on and turn it up. Tracey, two rounds of shots for me, Loverboy and anyone else young enough to have their own teeth. Michael, turn the lights down slightly will you, create a bit of atmosphere. I feel like I’m under the floodlights at The Den here!”

Callum still hadn’t moved from his seat, slightly shocked that Ben had turned up tonight. Although, with a little thought, perhaps it wasn’t much of a surprise at all. As Ben leaned against the bar, he quickly jolted up and went to stand next to him.

“What you doin’ here?” Callum asked in a panicked whisper, to the man next to him.

“Improving this pumpkin of a party, for one,” Ben answered, as the lights were dimmed slightly and upbeat music started to beat across the pub. “Cinders, you shall go to the ball! D’ya want to have a play with my magic wand?”

“Ben!” Callum hissed back. He was just starting to think he could get through the evening, happy to just enjoy a few pints with the older gentlemen and then head to bed. Whitney and most of the female residents of the square were out on a hen night at the club. He was staying at the Vic tonight and looked forward to sleeping on the sofa, uninterrupted by anyone. It would be bliss.

“Oh, relax, Callum,” Ben sighed, as Tracey put a line of shot glasses, full to the brim in front of him. “Have a drink.”

Ben pulled two of the shots out of the line, placing one in front of Callum and lifting the other up in his hands. “Now, what shall we drink to?”

Callum looked down at the drink, second guessing himself. Since Ben had come in the bar, the images driving through his brain seemed to slow enough just to take the edge off his nausea. The tension in his body began to calm and he felt his mood lighten. He picked up the glass and clinked it against Ben’s. “To selling our souls,” he said, looking directly into the other man’s eyes. He always forgot how intense they were, his emotions filling them up.

Ben clinked his glass back. “To saving them,” he said, knocking back the liquid quickly. Callum followed suit, hurling all the drink back in one go and squeezing his eyes shut. It burnt his throat momentarily, but it was a welcome feeling. When he opened his eyes, he noticed that his fingertips were almost brushing against Ben’s on the bar. He moved his pinkie finger over slightly and it just grazed against Ben’s thumb, the static beam coursing through him quickly, merging with the buzz of the alcohol that was swiftly affecting his body. One little movement and he could link their fingers, feeling the rough, warm skin there.

“Oh, don’t wait for me then,” Jay complained, approaching the bar. Callum quickly pulled his hand back and saw Ben furrow his brow at the action. “Is the music more to your liking now, Your Highness?”

“Well, your musical taste is slightly better than the choice of a bunch of OAPs, I’ll give you that,” Ben said, smiling at his brother and handing him a shot glass. He then passed another to Callum and took one for himself.

“What we drinking to?” Jay asked, knocking his glass against the other boys’ drinks.

“To saving my soul,” Ben replied, glancing at Callum.

Jay gave a snort. “Hah! You’d have to find it first!”

“I’ll have you know that it’s in very good hands,” Ben replied, lifting the glass to his lips as the other men did the same. Callum could feel his cheeks pink up as the drink hit the back of his throat again. Ben’s gaze was there when he lowered his head, looking at him questioningly. “I just hope they don’t drop it.”

Two hours later and music was still pumping out of the old speakers in the Vic. After a few rounds of drinks, Mick had pushed a few sets of tables together so all the men could sit around them, though at that moment Robbie and Martin were jumping up and down on one of the booth seats, dancing awfully to the music. As the song finished, they fell about laughing, returning back to their seats.

“If my Linda sees your trotter prints on her upholstery they’ll be ‘ell to pay,” Mick warned, pointing to the offending booth. “I ain’t taking the flack for you, I’ll send her right over to knock your heads together.”

“It’s for Callum’s stag night,” Martin explained, as if that would be an acceptable excuse. “Everyone loves him, don’t they? She won’t deny us giving him a decent send off!”

“It weren’t exactly a decent anything before we got here, was it?” Ben said, knocking back some of his drink. His bar stool was right next to Callum’s and because of the limited space, all the group were squashed around the table. Callum was very aware that his upper thigh was solidly pressed against Ben’s. Even through the layers of clothing, it felt like he could sense the other man’s warmth and the blood pulsing through his body.

“Frankly, we might as well have held it at the funeral parlour, chugged beer from a few of the urns. At least these two wouldn’t have had far to go,” Ben continued, signally towards Callum and Jay either side of him.

“Well you three should have been here from the start then, shouldn’t you,” Kush critiqued, waving his finger at the three latecomers and slightly swaying in his seat.  “Rather than swanning in and disapproving of the scotch eggs.”

“Um, I was ready on time, thank you,” Jay said defensively, pointing his finger back at the inebriated man. “It was Ben that spent thirty minutes in the bathroom doing his hair.”

“What can I say, perfection takes time,” Ben responded casually, shrugging slightly, the movement causing a slight friction between his and Callum’s legs. “I dress to impress.”

“Who exactly are you impressing?” Billy exclaimed. “It’s a stag night”

Jay rubbed his forehead slightly. “He’s gay and a stag night’s full of blokes.”

“I know that, smart alec!” Billy screeched back, scrunching up his face. “What I meant is we’re the only ones here. Not exactly anyone to impress is there!”

“I wouldn’t say that that,” Ben smirked. Callum’s body froze. “Robbie does look especially shaggable in that shade of green.”

Ben gave a wink for emphasis as the street cleaner’s mouth dropped out of its smile. “Oh, have a day off will you, Rob!” Jay exclaimed impatiently. “He’s only mucking about. He wouldn’t touch any one of us here with a barge pole.”

“Since when were you the oracle of my sexual preferences?” Ben asked teasingly, as he shuffled even closer to Callum so the whole side of their legs were touching.

“Since I’ve known you most of my life,” he retorted confidently. “Right, I’ll prove it to you. First off, I’m out cause we’re brothers and Billy’s family, so he’s excluded too.”

“Accepted,” Ben said, nodding his head. His attention was fully on Jay, but below the table his hand started to shift off his own leg and on to Callum’s thigh. The close proximity to the piece of furniture and the dim lighting helping to conceal the action.

“Keanu…” Jay started. “Perhaps, but he’d remind you too much of your dad.”

Both Ben and Keanu gave a little shiver and Ben crinkled his mouth up in distaste. “I’m not gonna get that imagine out my head for a while, cheers!”

“Okay, so Ted and Patrick, perhaps a little on the mature side for you,” Jay said kindly, nodding towards the two gentleman who were ably keeping up in drinking with the younger men.

“Correct,” Ben replied, swirling his index finger around a crease in Callum’s jeans. “No, offence fellas.”

“None taken,” Ted replied, raising his glass. “Although I did wear my best cardie just in case.”

“I don’t think you like ‘em to have more or better stubble than you, so that leaves Mick out.” Jay continued, the expression on his face showing the amount of thought he was putting into the predicament.

“Well he may have more, but I don’t concede on better, “Ben responded, one hand lifting his glass to have a drink and the other rhythmically squeezing Callum’s leg. “But you’re right. I’d prefer a slightly smoother surface.”

“Martin’s too tall,” Jay continued, catching the greengrocer’s attention.

“See, you’re wrong there,” Ben said disagreeing, as his hand moving even further up Callum’s thigh. “A bigger man usually means a bigger-“

“Yes!” Jay said, interrupting him. “We get it, but Martin’s just that bit too tall for you. Do you disagree?”

Ben squinted towards Martin, as if seriously thinking about it. The older man sat up straight, showing his full height, as if to prove a point. Ben slipped his fingers down to the seam of Callum’s jeans and began to run his fingers along the line. Callum could feel his breathing intensify and took a sip of his drink with a shaky hand.

“Nah, I don’t disagree,” Ben eventually replied. “Sorry, Mart.”

“Robbie’s…well Robbie,” Jay said, ignoring the man’s protest. “I’m sorry, Rob, but one withering comment from him and you’d burst into tears. Kush, now he seems an ideal prospect on paper…”

“Go on,” Ben said, motioning to Jay, as his fingers slid even further up Callum’s seam, brushing gently against the growing bulge he found there. Callum continued to sip at his drink, thankful it was so dark and hoping that the increasing glow of his cheeks and sweat on his brow could be explained by the alcohol.

“But you’re a slut and he’s a slut, so that would never work.” Jay explained, clearly.

“Hey!” both men cried in unison. “I’m not a slut, I’ve got a girlfriend.” Kush protested.

Jay looked back at him with scepticism. “Kush, you’re going out with Kat Slater. That’s not a relationship, that’s a break-up promise. And don’t play all high and mighty, before you went out with her there were times when I saw a different bird leave your flat every day of the week. It wouldn’t work with this one here; you’re too similar in that way.”

Jay looked towards Ben to seal his agreement. He quirked his lips and nodded, now palming Callum through his jeans.

“See!” Jay said, slamming his fist on the table in victory. “I was right. Obviously Halfway’s out as well. I told you there was no one here who-“

“Wait, what do you mean he’s out?” Ben said, removing his hand from Callum’s trousers and spinning around to face his brother, a look of confusion on his face.

“Well, he’s getting married in the morning, ain’t he!” Billy interjected.

Callum hoped that would stop the conversation that was hitting too close to home. He didn’t want to do this in front of everyone, he didn’t know if he could hide the truth. Ben gritted his teeth. “Yes, I know that, Bill. But Martin’s married and got three sprogs and I still had to give him the once over.”

Jay patted Ben reassuringly on the shoulder. “He’s just too good for you, ain’t he?”

Ben’s eyes opened wide at Jay’s comment. “Well, thank you brother, it’s nice to know you think I’m such a low standard.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Jay tutted, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t mean you weren’t good enough for him, although we might put a pin in that. I meant he’s ‘good’. All sweetness and light. You don’t like them that good.”

“Yeah, he’s got you there, sunshine,” Mick interjected, smiling at Callum. “A heart of gold that one. Not a bad or dishonest bone in his body.”

“I mean, no offence Callum,” Jay said, leaning forwards to address the man. “You’re just a little pure soul, aren’t ya? He’d eat you for breakfast.”

Ben stood up. “Well, now we’ve established that there’s no one who interests me around this table, I’m going to the kitchen to find some food that ain’t yellow, brown or made into a hedgehog.”

Callum watched as Ben slightly wavered on his first steps, but then marched purposefully towards the kitchen. Mick seemed content to let him wander around his pub so he’d clearly had quite a few too. The rest of the men weren’t any better, as their laughing and chatting became louder and more frenzied.

Sitting back a little, Callum could still feel the ghost of Ben’s hand. Perhaps it was the drink, or maybe it was just the man himself, but he never once thought about taking Ben’s hand off him even though they were surrounded by people. It felt too good, like a drop of rain in a drought.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a movement. Ben was standing in the doorway leading to the kitchen, waving towards him and pointing in the opposite direction. Callum gave a look around and saw that all his friends were too involved in conversations to notice the action. He slipped out of his seat, muttered something about the toilet and then made his way towards the gents.

As he rounded the corner, he saw Ben wait by the door, holding a cloth in his left hand. When the other man noticed him, he smiled and grabbed Callum’s hand pulling him into the bathroom. Ben carried on gripping his fingers, dragging him down to sit on the floor facing the wall.

“What are we doing?” Callum asked, taking the opportunity to play with the fingers on Ben’s hand, rubbing and caressing them gently.

“Well, you know that blue plaque thing?” Ben replied, with clear, blue eyes. Callum thought about how sweet he looked here, sitting crossed legged on the floor with a glow to his cheeks. “I looked into it and it’s a bit of a hassle, to be honest. Plus, we’d have to have an opening ceremony with a ribbon to cut and no one wants Shirley around a giant pair of scissors.”

Callum nodded agreeably, though he couldn’t really focus on what Ben was saying. Those thoughts round his head were slowing, releasing the pressure and all he could see was the man in front of him. He smiled at Ben and swallowed slightly when he dredged up the courage to place his other hand on Ben’s thigh.

“So, I thought, fuck a proper plaque and fuck a proper ceremony. Let’s just do it ourselves,” he proclaimed, as he undid the cloth in his hand to reveal two small vegetable knives.

Callum raised his eyebrows slightly. “You want us to write our names on the wall of the gents toilets?” he asked, with a laugh. It was insane, but he couldn’t stop grinning at the idea.

“Well, obviously not our full names,” Ben continued. “Just our initials. You do mine and I’ll do yours.”

Ben handed Callum one of the knives and then started to scrape at the paint on the wall. He bit his lip in concentration and Callum couldn’t help but stare, wanting to suck the reddened part.

“Stop checking me out and start carving,” Ben ordered teasingly. “Otherwise we’ll still be doing this when Robbie comes in for a whazz. Those Cuba libras go right through him.”

Callum rested the knife comfortably in his hand and started to pick at the wall, first lightly marking out the letter B, before digging his knife in deeper. In a way he felt like a kid; a teenager giggling with his first proper crush. That never happened for him though. That was someone else’s past. For him, this just felt blissful and true.

After several minutes, he sat back to admire his handiwork. He noticed Ben had finished his initials too and had scraped in the year. It now read ‘C.H + B.M  2019’. It didn’t escape his attention that Ben had also drawn a halo over the zero and turned the number nine into a devil’s tail.

“Linda is going to go spare when she finds this,” Callum said, leaning back and stretching his legs out slightly.

“I think Linda will be too preoccupied with Martin’s boot prints wedged into the seating and three cheese and pineapple cocktail sticks stuck in the ceiling to notice a few scratches in the gents,” Ben replied, mirroring Callum’s stance.

“Do you think people will know? That it’s us, I mean,” he asked quietly.

Ben shook his head confidently. “No, its in plain sight. People only see what they want to and what they expect to,” he said, looking at Callum and studying him intently. “Even if they painted over this, it would still be here, you’d still see it. Even if they plastered it over, it would still be there underneath. You can’t make it go away when something’s carved that deep.”

Without really thinking it through, Callum moved towards Ben, cupping his cheek in his hand and kissing him on his lips, gently at first and then more insistent, his mind going back to when he watched the other man bite his lips, mimicking the action. He forcefully sucked it, to alleviate the sting, eliciting a gruff moan from Ben.

Callum couldn’t get close enough, one hand twisting in Ben’s hair and the other placed on his chest. He could feel Ben’s hand rubbing slightly at his cheek, while the other pulled at his shirt to get him nearer. Callum swung a leg over and straddled Ben’s legs confidently.

He couldn’t help but roll his hips a little into Ben, the sensation feeling too good to resist. That was until Ben pushed him away quickly with his hand. “We can’t do this here,” he said breathlessly.

“Yes, we can, we can,” he said leaning down and capturing Ben’s mouth again.

After a few seconds, Ben pushed him away for a second time with a little chuckle. “That lot out there were really on the button about you, weren’t they?” he said, leaning up to give Callum a brief peck. “So pure and proper!”

Ben gently pulled on Callum’s arm until he swung off him and then got up to stand. He held his hand out to Callum and heaved the other man to his feet. Ben shuffled closer, putting his arms around Callum’s waist so there was no space between them, and then looked up with heavy eyes. “Let’s go somewhere else. There’s only so many times Ted can trip over us before even he smells a rat.”

“They’ll notice we’re gone,” Callum replied, putting his arms around Ben’s neck and leaning their foreheads together.

Ben smiled to himself. “That lot out there wouldn’t notice anything. Patrick’s been asleep for half an hour and Billy’s still pouring him drinks. C’mon let’s go,” he said with gentle persuasion, separating himself from Callum.

As they re-entered the bar, the music was turned up even louder this time and Kush and Martin were dancing on the bar, the latter continually hitting his head without much respite. They could hear the loud conversations and jokes of the other men and managed to slip out the door unnoticed.

It was cool again outside, the late summer bringing an unexpected chill to the air. It helped Callum sober up a little, rethink his choices now they were outside the intense bubble. He found his head less alcohol dazed but his emotions still as strong. He wanted so badly to take Ben’s hand as they walked, hold their fingers together and unite. Despite the late hour, there were still a few people walking the streets and he couldn’t get the courage up.

Callum was surprised when Ben seemed to be walking towards the Beale house. He quickly tapped him on his shoulder and nodded in that direction. “Won’t someone be in?”

“Nah, for once the house is empty. Ian’s decided to take Mum, Lola, Bobby and Lexie down to the seaside for the night. They’re staying over and coming back first thing. He promised them last week, but it was more expensive during the Bank Holiday, so he’s had his hand forced.”

“Why didn’t you go? How’d you get out of it?” Callum asked, as both men continued walking.

“Well, as much as I would’ve liked laying in the sun with a stick of rock in my hand, I just explained that I had my lover’s stag do to attend and it would just be rude not to go,” he said with a cheeky grin as he got the key in the door.

Callum couldn’t help but raise a smile that time and no sooner had the door been shut behind them, he pushed Ben against it harshly, kissing him messily and with conviction, just hearing the faint sound of metal as the keys dropped to the floor.

It reminded him a little of that time in the park, only this time his mind was even more certain of what he wanted and he felt his confidence build. He nipped kisses along Ben’s jaw and down to his collarbone, pausing to suck the tense skin there. One of his hands was tied in Ben’s short hair, twisting and pulling. The other was grazing down to his belt buckle, shakily undoing it the best he could.

He glanced up at Ben. He was unusually inactive, his hands gripping the flaky wood of the door, his head thrown back and his eyes blinking shut. His mouth was open slightly and Callum could feel the panting breaths he emitted. Callum thought that he looked heavenly. He still wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, but he knew he was doing something right.

Suddenly, Ben’s eyes shot open and seemed to dance in the dim light. He gave Callum a grin and pulled his head up to give him a long open-mouthed kiss. As this was happening, he could feel Ben turn him round slowly and eventually he felt the handle of the door at his back.

Ben gave him a few more light kisses and then lowered himself down off his tiptoes. Callum could feel the other man’s eyes as they ran up and down his body. It made a few butterflies in his stomach rise up with nerves, but overall it just thrilled him.

Ben gave him a small kiss at his neck and then started undoing the buttons of his shirt, trailing little kisses down Callum’s chest as he went. As he went lower, Callum placed his hand gently on the back of Ben’s neck, brushing the soft hair there, using the action to ground him and the rhythm to keep his breathing in check. His body felt on fire, like a phoenix being brought back to life from the ashes. He hadn’t even properly realised he had been dead.

Looking down, he noticed that Ben was now near his belly button and he plastered kisses around it and on the golden trail of hair there, before sinking fully onto his knees. He looked up sinfully at Callum as he started to undo the belt holding up his jeans. Ben’s expressive eyes seemed to be asking him something though. Callum didn’t really care what, the answer would be yes, so he nodded his head vigorously.

The clatter of the buckle being undone, and the metallic sound of his zip being lowered rendered Callum motionless. He thought maybe he should be doing something, rather than just clinging to the surface of the door handle with one hand and rubbing Ben’s neck with faster strokes to match his breathing. This was too pleasurable though and that made him selfish to his desires.

Tugging down his jeans slightly, Ben brought Callum’s briefs with them. The unrestricted senses of the air around him seemed to tingle his skin like it was alive. There was a roughness against his bum as he realised the splinters of coarse wood rubbed the door against his body. He could feel that he was half hard, he had been since Ben started stroking his leg in the pub, the blood rushing through him like the rapids in a river.

Ben put both hands behind Callum and ran them down the cheeks of his bum a few times, giving them a firm squeeze on the final time. He moved one hand to Callum’s hip, looked up at him with a quirk of the mouth before moving his other hand to his cock giving a confident few strokes. Callum felt himself go fully hard quickly and the sensation was so striking he couldn’t possibly imagine it getting any better.

Looking up at him suddenly, Callum couldn’t help but run his hand down the other man’s cheek, running the pad of his thumb across his lip. Ben placed a tiny kiss there before moving his head forward suddenly and doing the same action to Callum’s cock. There was no pausing in his actions as Ben took the head into his mouth, his hand still stoking up and down at the base with renewed vigour.

Callum let his head slam back against the door, feeling the clean coolness of the glass pulse through. The sensation of Ben, his clever hand and his quick mouth, was making his whole body reel like he’d never been touched before. The whole experience felt ethereal; the moonlight bursting through the window, the tinge of alcohol making him feel invincible. It was like they had left the planet and arrived at their own dimension; a reality where only they belonged.

Keeping his hand rubbing against the nape of Ben’s neck, Callum was able to mimic Ben’s pace, but he wasn’t really sure which one was setting the rhythm and who was following. As the tension in his belly built, he felt his hand move to the hair on the back of Ben’s head. He twisted his fingers around it, slighting pushing him forward wanting to disappear even more into his mouth.

When he looked down again, the sight was almost too much. Ben’s hair was a mess, his eyes were almost almond shaped and flicking into his eyelids. His talented lips were reddened and dutifully moving up and down Callum’s length. It was too much; it was too perfect. He grabbed Ben’s hand on his hip, by the wrist and pulled it up causing Ben to let him go with his mouth with a lurid slurp.

Pulling Ben up, Callum immediately attacked his mouth with a kiss, sucking on the tempting red lips. Ben opened his mouth further and their tongues danced. As they continued, Callum dropped his hands down and started to palm Ben through his trousers. He could feel him hard there and it spurred him on even further. With hands moving quickly, they were now pressed against so many parts of each other’s body that they felt as one.

Ben dropped his hands down and quickly undid his own jeans, pulling himself out. The two of them grinded together, moving hands all around their bodies, but never losing contact at their eyes. It was so intimate, so close and so right. He’d never felt closer to anyone in any way. He felt Ben speed up his grinding and Callum took him in his hand, matching the rhythm with his tongue before feeling Ben climax, spurting onto Callum’s fingers and stomach.

Slowing his movements, Ben rested his forehead onto Callum’s shoulder, his breathing still escaping in grunts. If he could stop time and stay in one particular moment forever, it would be now. Ben lifted his head up, gave a sloppy kiss onto the side of Callum’s chin, then dropped back down to his knees, taking him in his mouth again, even more purposefully this time. It wasn’t long before Callum released into Ben’s mouth, not even thinking about pulling away.

He felt frozen, his whole body spiking with pleasure beyond his control. He didn’t think it was possible to come down from this. A fear ran through him that perhaps his heart was going to stop. It was moving so fast that he couldn’t even determine each individual beat. There was a soft movement on his belly, causing his pulse to calm a little. He managed to move his head forward enough to see Ben, gently cleaning his stomach with some tissue, then taking his hand and wiping it.

As Ben, went to the bin, Callum had regained enough energy to pull his trousers back up and redo his belt. His muscles felt tired now and it was almost too much of an effort just to lean against the door. Ben took his hand and pulled, leading him into the lounge. It felt like a dream to Callum, this quiet in his head, just filled with a sensation of fulfilment and happiness.

Ben sat on the couch, swinging his legs around slightly and then pulled Callum down with him. He put his feet at one end of the sofa and lay his head on Ben’s chest, feeling his eyes go heavy. The other man started to lightly run his fingers through his hair, the sensation settling him even more.

“You should get back soon,” Ben said, quieter than Callum had ever heard him. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Callum answered, not sure if he was able to move even if he had to.

“Well, I might be wrong, but I don’t think Whit will be too happy about moving your wedding location to our front room. I mean I can always chuck a bit of bunting up, but there’s not really much of an aisle,” Ben responded, falling back into his usual humour.

Callum was silent for a moment. “What if I don’t want to get married?” he said, his body filling with hope at just saying the words out loud.

Ben stopped the movement of his hand for a movement. “Is that what you want? Really?” he asked, his tone unrecognisable.

“I want this,” he said, and was glad he wasn’t looking at Ben’s penetrable eyes when he said it.

Ben sat up straighter which forced Callum to sit up too. He turned to face him, taking one of his hands in his. “Callum,” he started, in a worrying tone. “I’m not Whitney. I’m a mess that often circles into disaster. I wouldn’t be easy. I damage everything I touch. Look at Paul-“

“I’m not Paul,” he replied forcefully. “I’m not perfect either. I’m broken too. You think I don’t recognise that?”

There was a slight smile on Ben’s face at Callum’s outburst. “Yeah, alright. I’m not sure your notion that we’re both fucked up means this is a good move, but I take your point. I don’t even really know what ‘this’ is.”

“Does it matter?” Callum responded, drawing Ben’s hands closer. “Let everyone else name it. I just like being with you.” There was a calmness when he was around him, he felt complete. He genuinely liked Ben as a person as well, through all his flaws, he interested him and excited him.

Ben looked at him in the eyes, squinting slightly and chewing at his lip again. “Okay,” he responded. “There is the obvious problem of tomorrow. It’s not exactly customary to bring a date to your own wedding.”

“I’ll go to her now and tell her,” Callum said, starting to jump up off the coach, feeling a serge of courage. The thought of not having this feeling anymore, to going back to the loss and despair that had plighted his life for just one more day, made him feel sick to his stomach. He wouldn’t be able to do it. He couldn’t live with that pain anymore.

“Woah!” Ben said, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down onto the sofa. “Are you really going to march up to Whitney, in front of all her friends and family? How’s that gonna go? ‘Hey Whit, just popping in to say that I can’t make our wedding tomorrow as I’m letting Ben suck me off again.’ You wouldn’t make it five steps before Bianca decapitated you with her handbag.”

“What do you suggest then?” Callum asked back, frustrated that he couldn’t just get it over with.

“Look, we want to make sure that we’re sure,” Ben said softly, cupping Callum’s cheek with his hand. “It’s an emotional evening, you’ve had a drink and your mind’s been blown, quite literally. I just don’t want you rushing into anything. Not for me. You need to do it for you.”

“I am,” Callum answered softly and he put his hand over Ben’s rubbing it gently.

“Okay,” Ben replied, a light twinkling in his eyes. “I’ll tell you what. Go back to the Vic and sleep on it. Then, in the morning at nine, meet me at the bench in the park. If you’re still sure, you can go to see Whitney. I’ll go with you if you like. That way you can talk to her alone and I’ll distract Bianca and Tiffany with a shiny bomber jacket. Deal? If you’re not at the bench in the morning, then I know you’ve had second thoughts.”

“What if you’re not at the bench?” Callum asked, hoping that wouldn’t be the case.

“I will be,” Ben smiled. “But Callum, if you’re not there, I can’t keep doing this. If you don’t turn up then you’ve made your choice and I’m not going to be someone’s second one. Okay?”

Callum answered Ben with a kiss, knowing that he could never let this feeling go. He was so focused on the man in front of him, he never even heard Bobby Beale creep back up the stairs and return to his room.

Chapter Text

Callum rapidly tapped his fingers on the table, the sound echoing harshly all around him. He was early, the dawning morning sun just veiling the park.

When he left Ben’s house last night, there was a sense of belief, confidence and purpose. He almost went over to Whitney there and then, but he had promised Ben and he didn’t want to let him down. He knew his feelings wouldn’t change in the morning, especially after the experiences of the night. They had just lay there for a while, looking into each other’s eyes, soft caresses and touches littering their bodies. Ben remained quiet. There was something unusual in it, most of the time he couldn’t stay quiet for more than a few seconds. It didn’t feel awkwardly silent though. He could still hear Ben loud and clear without any need for words.

Eventually, he knew he had to leave, giving Ben one more kiss on the lips before heading out the door. Callum had got back to the Vic and headed straight upstairs, though he could still hear some commotion from the bar. An hour later, Mick had come stumbling in through the lounge door, assisted by a frustrated Linda.

“Halfway!” he slurred, knocking carelessly against the couch. “It was a good old send off. All we was missing was the stag!”

“Yeah, sorry Mick,” he replied apologetically, though he wasn’t sure he was entirely missed. “I just wanted to be fresh for tomorrow.”

“See!” Linda said, harshly, manoeuvring her husband to sit down. “You’re in your forties with four kids and can barely stand. This is Callum’s last night of freedom and he’s still able to get up!”

If the lights hadn’t been on low, he was sure the couple would have seen the pink tint of guilt flood his cheeks. He tried to just play along and smiled as Linda dragged Mick out the room while her husband serenaded her with a tuneless song.

Laying down on the sofa, sleep didn’t come easily to Callum. He imagined that no one got a lot of rest of the eve of their wedding. However, he highly doubted it was due to the excitement of dumping their bride on the happiest day of their life to run off with the local bad boy.

Just the suggestion of it sounded ridiculous to his ears. How did he get here? He’d only know Ben for six months. Of course, he’d heard about him. Jay had talked about him quite a bit and he knew he was Phil’s son. There had been stories, tales of manipulation and lies. It was nothing like the reality though. They didn’t see the real him.  They had him wrong.

It wasn’t like they were suddenly going to move in together. They weren’t even in a relationship. Callum just liked being around him, whatever that meant. Calling off the wedding wasn’t for Ben, he just made him want to do it for himself. When he was around Ben, it made him feel like he didn’t deserve to just settle. Not that Whitney wasn’t a great girl, she was the best. He honestly wanted her in his life. Callum just started to understand that he couldn’t be the best he could be when he was in a relationship with her. It wasn’t fair on either of them.

He knew how he felt when he was with Ben. He knew how the other man was with him too. The passion and intensity that fizzed between them was undeniable and inescapable. He wanted Whitney to have that with someone too. She couldn’t possibly be content with what he was giving her.

Staring up at the ceiling, he could still faintly smell Ben’s aftershave in the air and clinging to his skin. It was comforting, something tangible and evidential that proved the whole thing was true and not just a daydream in his mind. In a way, he was glad that he didn't tell Whitney tonight. Everyone involved would have been drinking excessively and he wouldn’t have been able to get his words out properly. He never could. It wouldn’t come out right and she wouldn’t understand he was doing it for both their sakes. 

Though, if he had told Whitney, he could be laying in Ben’s arm’s right now rather than just feeling the ghost touch linger on his body. It didn’t really compare. Would he be content knowing the pain Whitney could be in right now had he taken the other path? The guilt crept up his gullet again, sweeping away the moment of imagined happiness with a sly laugh. As much as he knew he wasn’t right for her, there was going to have to be pain. He could deal with receiving that; he had lived with it long enough for it to feel like a glaring twin. It just wasn’t in his nature to dish it out though. The thought of his actions making someone else’s life crumble sent a twang of disgust through his whole body.

It had been a few hours before he had eventually dropped off to sleep, checking his phone at least ten times to ensure his alarm was set. Not that it mattered, he woke with the birds, a dim warmth bleeding through the Carter’s curtains warning him of the day to come. Padding softly through the hall, he took a quick shower. The trailing water was a comfort and woke his body but there was a part of him that felt he was washing away Ben’s touch. When he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine him there. The moment in the Beale’s kitchen was the most out of control he had ever felt in his life. His body had taken over, forcing his mind to relinquish control.

He had always been awkward, or felt it at least. Certainly, it was a critique that had circled him his whole life. The idea of being intimate with someone had always terrified him when he was younger, thinking back perhaps because the ones he imagined himself with weren’t going to be accepted by his family. He had never felt like he wanted to sleep with girls and he couldn’t want to sleep with boys. There were so many voices, telling him, teasing him, goading him and frightening him into intimacy that in the end he ignored all of them.

That was before Whitney. She had been so lovely and understanding, not wanting to rush him. He knew a little of her past and understood there was a part of her that didn’t want to be pressurised either. They suited each other that way, so when they did have sex, it was nice. They got through it together. It wasn’t so bad; he had survived it and seeing Whitney’s sweet smile made him happy.

It was nothing like that with Ben.  It felt like his soul was trying to scratch its way out of his body, unable to stand being in it’s limited corporeal form any longer. The high was so intense and his senses were eagerly lapping up all the prizes around them. The sounds Ben was making; harsh grunts and laboured breathing, dirty curses and painless moans were thundering into his ears. Callum remembered pressing his nose against his hair, the tinge of nutty shampoo just lingering there. He could still taste his tongue, kissed with whiskey, intoxicating his mouth. There were slight fingertip bruises on his right hip, the memory of grasping and tugging breaching his thoughts.

It had been the sight of Ben though that had really sent him crying to the edge of pleasure. There was something so sexily immoral about his wry smirk and wicked lips that sent Callum’s pulse racing through the sky every time. There was a touch of danger and unpredictability there that intrigued and delighted him. It was Ben’s eyes though that made Callum knew his life had changed. They twinkled in the dark like a rough, rebellious sea; full of life and full of mischief. However, hidden underneath, beneath the waves, his soul whispered out with soft caresses, pure words and an honesty that made Callum feel like he had come home.

If anyone were to ever see the two of them alone together, they would say that he was someone else when he was around Ben; that he wasn’t quite himself. They wouldn’t have been more wrong. He felt truly alive, every part of him awakened and vibrant, like he’d cracked through the glass casing finally and had someone who finally saw all he could be.

After his shower, Callum had quickly dressed. He couldn’t bear to eat anything, the mere suggestion to his mind sending his stomach into anxious quivers. No one else was up yet, the escapades from the night before clearly taking its toll.

He glanced at his watch again. It had been over an hour since he came to the park and it was now only five minutes away from the time that he was due to meet Ben. His leg kept knocking against the bench frame, unable to keep the jiggling still. Callum started to wonder whether they had woken up at the Vic yet. Were they missing him? He looked towards his phone, seeing no new messages there. He was so tempted to call Ben, not sure he could stand the last few jittering minutes before seeing him.

When he’d first arrived, the park was deserted, just a few birds tweeting in their nests and the early morning dew coating the grass. It was starting to get busier now, not excessively so, just a few mums with toddlers and an elderly couple on a morning stroll. Squinting his eyes to a hedge over the other side of the park, he thought he could make out Bobby Beale, but he seemed to disappear as soon as he saw him. It was probably his mind playing tricks on him, visualising anyone that had even a vague connection to Ben.

There was a harsh knocking coursing around the area and he realised it was his hand now slapping the table harshly, getting a disapproving look from a young woman bouncing a toddler on her knee. He checked his watch again. It was now quarter past nine. Callum told himself that this was Ben and there wasn’t an entrance available that he didn’t like to dramatically make. Something was creeping in his mind though. He pushed it away.

The young mother had gone now, replaced by an old man sipping at a cup of tea, the blowing steam escaping from the polystyrene cup. Ben was now half an hour overdue, but Callum thought he would have a good reason. Perhaps he got stopped by someone to have a chat, his mum or Jay. He might not have been able to get away easily. The creature gnawing at his brain got louder.

The elderly man threw the cup in the bin and slouched out of the park. It was now ten o’clock and Callum’s movements had stilled. He kept staring at his phone screen, willing a message to come through, explaining why he was sitting here alone. There was still hope; Ben had promised. It wasn’t some drunken lip service; he knew that he meant it. He could see it in his eyes and they didn’t lie even if Ben sometimes did. He would be here.

Fifteen minutes later and Callum still couldn’t move. It wasn’t by accident that he chose this bench, the memory of that night remaining so vivid in his mind. It was special to him. He thought it had been special to Ben to. He thought he had seen a glimmer of connection there. He was wrong. That had been another lie.

Harshly invading the air, his phone beeped insistently. Callum’s heart jumped into action in his chest but quickly deflated when he saw the message was from Mick. The residents of the Vic had clearly started to wake and the landlord wanted to know where he was and if he could pick up some bacon on his way back. Callum slammed the phone down, the screen cracking in two as he did. He cursed loudly, getting another disapproving look from a middle age woman walking her dog.

It had been a good dream, but it was still an illusion none the less. He had now woken up and realised that it wasn’t real. All that hope of happiness and contentment, that wasn’t his life! When had that ever happened for him? It wasn’t about to start now. Those things happened to other people, where everything seemed to click into place for them. He’d had a few moments where he foolishly thought he was one of him, leaving him ashamed and embarrassed at his self-importance.

Standing up, his legs clicked back into place, restless from the lack of movement. He shook his phone hopelessly, rolling his eyes at his stupidity. Now, he couldn’t even call Ben, ask him where he was. He immediately threw that thought out. If Ben wanted him, then he would have to come and get him. If there really was a good reason why he hadn’t turned up, then that would make itself clear.

------

Honey gave him a big grin when he entered the Minute Mart, but he could only offer a slight forced smile in return. As he walked back from the park, he realised that he was now hurtling towards his wedding. The choice had been put back in his hands again, but he felt helpless.

Instantly recognising the body standing by the bacon, he froze. This was the last person he wanted to see at the moment, especially with his emotions all over the place. Callum thought that maybe he could retreat out the shop without anyone noticing, but before he could Stuart turned around.

“Alright?” his brother asked tentatively, switching a pint of milk from one hand to the other.

“Yeah,” Callum replied, not willing or wanting to have a conversation when his mind was racing and crashing. “Just need to get some bacon.”

“Look, can we talk?” Stuart asked, taking a step towards his brother. “Please, just five minutes.”

Everything in Callum was screaming at him to say no, but a part of him did want to hear what Stuart had to say. At least his brother was here. His presence must at least show he cared.

They walked in silence across to the café, Callum ordering tea for them both. He nodded towards the corner table, taking a seat opposite his brother.

“I’m sorry,” Stuart said immediately, leaning across the table at him.

It wasn’t anything that Callum hadn’t heard before. His life had been filled with a million apologies. “For what?” he asked harshly, fearing that it would just be another vitriolic rant from his brother.

“For what I did to Ben,” Stuart whispered. “I know how that must have upset you and I know it wasn’t the right way to handle things.”

Callum squinted towards the other man. He did seem genuinely sorry and he knew his big brother was only out to protect him. “It was an awful thing to do. You owe him an apology.”

“I’ll apologise for what I did when I see him next,” Stuart said, genuinely. “I’ll let him know that it ain’t nothing personal, I’m just looking out for my little brother.”

“He ain’t someone you gotta protect me from!” Callum responded. “It weren’t his fault.”

“I just know how much you love Whitney,” Stuart continued. “And how much she loves you. It would break that girl’s heart if she found out. I know you don’t want that, do you?”

“Course I don’t,” Callum responded, gently shaking his head.

“Look, I know what you said yesterday about not coming to the wedding,” Stuart started, glancing down. “And I know I’m not good enough to be your best man, but please, let me see my baby brother be married.”

Callum nodded, though he knew his decision making seemed to be off at the moment. He didn’t know who to trust and who to believe. They were all full of so many promises, distracting all the lies they were covering. There was only one person he could trust and that was Whitney. She had never broken a promise or gone behind his back on anything significant. He knew where he stood with her and there was some comfort and stability in that.

----------

“I swear Robbie’s gonna be horizontal on Dot’s lap if he slips down his seat any further,” Mick commented, straining his neck to look around at the congregation. It seemed like most of the Square had turned out.

Callum gave him a slight smile and adjusted his tie again, the item feeling restrictive around his neck. His friends who had been at the Stag party last night did walk into the location slightly worse for wear, all bleary eyed and rough voiced.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be here,” Mick said, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. This was the second time today that Callum was now waiting on someone to turn up. In truth though, this time he wouldn’t really mind if he was stood up. He could play at disappointment and there would be comments, but it would mean an escape.

“It wouldn’t be the first wedding around here where someone was jilted,” Shirley added from behind the pair.

“Yes, all right, thank you Mother, would you mind cutting it back a bit. We’re shitting bricks here,” Mick called back behind him.

“She’ll be here,” Ian added sagely. “Whitney and weddings are like a moth to a flame.”

“Oi! She’s only been wed once,” Stacey screeched from the other side of the aisle. “You’re one to talk anyway. You’ve had marriages last less time than we’ve been sitting here

Ian made a disagreeable face. “You still can’t deny she’s had a few men. All of them disasters.”

“Excuse me!” Linda said, clearly offended. “What about my Lee? He weren’t a bad’un…it just didn’t work out.”

“We know,” Denise consoled. “But I mean, she replaced him with that other fella, that dopey barman, quite quickly didn’t she? Then Halfway wasn’t much later,” she continued, as though Callum wasn’t three rows in front.

“You are a bit like her own personal dating app, Linda.” Kat cackled. “I heard she tried to have a crack at your Johnny too. Talk about keeping it in the family.”

Callum could sense Mick still a little next to him, unusually quiet. He had lived in the Square long enough to be used to the dirty laundry being aired, the secrets being shouted and the gossip being traded.

“She tried with Johnny? Ha!” Kim hooted, the sound echoing in the church. “How long did it take her to figure that out?”

“It wasn’t anything really!” Stacey tutted, “She’s not gonna properly go for someone who’s gay, is she? I think she’d know!”

“Here, Kath,” Kim called, leaning forward. “She ain’t ever got her claws into your Ben, has she?”

“Are you joking?” Kathy answered with a huff. “He’d have to stop long enough for that to happen.”

“Not the only reason, is it?” Ian grumbled. “I might as well put a revolving door in, the amount of strange men that stumble in and out of our house. And now you’ve opened that bar, it’s like his own personal take away.”

Callum felt a sting to his eyes. Jealousy reared up through his body, clenching at his teeth. He wasn’t so naïve that he believed Ben had been celibate since their first time together. The double standard didn’t go unnoticed by him. Getting married was cheating on two levels he supposed; emotionally and physically, so it’s not like he could blame Ben. Though, the thought of him with other men made Callum’s skin crawl. The idea of Ben’s hands and mouth trailing over some stranger the way they had with him last night sent his blood rushing. They wouldn’t understand him. They wouldn’t know what was happening behind his eyes.

Where was he though? He’d promised. Callum kept biting at his bottom lip, the thought that perhaps he didn’t know Ben as well as he thought ringing through his head. He’d promised. It wasn’t just a matter of turning up late, he wasn’t here at all. He knew what was happening, he knew the wedding was today. Perhaps he was fine for Callum to just get married now he’d had his fun with him. He’d promised.

“Where is he anyway?” Jay asked from behind him. “Last I saw him was at the stag, trying to get Callum drunk.”

“Typical! He probably wanted Callum to miss his own wedding day. Get a right laugh out of it,” Stacey complained, the congregation still talking like he wasn’t in the room. Callum was used to not getting noticed, but now he’d experienced being under Ben’s eyes, it was hard to retreat back.

“You didn’t get back till late either, he weren’t responsible for that as well, was he?” Stacey asked, nudging her husband. “Martin!”

With a loud snort, Martin jolted awake. The purple bags underneath his eyes and his yellowish complexion suggesting his hangover was far from over.

“Well, he was at ours this morning,” Kathy replied to Jay. “Staring at his phone as usual. I reminded him to get ready and he just said that he was off to meet a bit of totty and wouldn’t be available for the rest of the day.”

Callum couldn’t breathe. He had promised. He had lied. All that talk last night, it was just hot air, manipulations to force Callum to make a fool out of himself. Ben must have just done it for his own amusement, see how far he could lure Callum towards him. He probably made a bet with himself, to see if the closet case would actually ditch his wedding for him. He felt so foolish, to believe that someone like Ben would actually be interested in someone like him.

He didn’t realise his hands were shaking until Mick placed his gentle grip on them. “It’s alright, Halfway. She’ll be here. Whitney would never let you down.”

There was never a truer word spoken. She was his rock, always there by his side and he had almost thrown that away for a lie. Ben would be out with some guy that had taken his fancy on an app, probably laughing over Callum’s inexperienced fumbling last night. He now knew why Ben hadn’t wanted him to speak to Whitney last night. It has nothing to do with compassion, he just didn’t want to be a part of the fall out.

Crashing through the door, he saw a figure all dressed in dark out of the corner of his eye. His romantic fool of a heart leapt for a second, hoping it was Ben, while his mind chastised it for its ridiculous notions. Both of them settled when he turned around and saw Stuart enter, smiling happily and giving a little wave towards his brother.

A few seconds later, the music swelled up, signalling his bride was here. Mick gave him a little nudge and a knowing smile as they stood up. This was it; his choice had been made for him. Ben had been a fanciful dream, a phantom lover that showed Callum the darkness and pain if he followed and listened to his heart. Whitney was a good woman, she loved him and cared for them. She would always be there for him.

As he turned around and welcomed his bride with a smile, he tried not to ignore to the aching shriek of his heart.

--------

“What is in that pie, Shirl?” Jay exclaimed, spitting his mouthful into a napkin.

“It’s pancetta with earth truffles,” Shirley replied, expressionless “It’s artisan.”

Jay squinted slightly in her direction. “You mean bacon and mushroom?”

“Alright Gordon Ramsey! It was all we had left in the fridge! Shove it in your cake hole or shut your cake hole,” she shouted back at him.

“It tastes burnt,” Billy said, happily tucking in to his second piece.

“Well some nutter had taken half the knives from the kitchen and I forgot it was in the oven this morning, while I was looking for them, ” she tutted, leaning against the bar of the Vic. “Mick sent Halfway out for some more bacon, but he came back with out any. Shocker.”

Callum was sitting in a booth, watching Whitney dance with her family. The wedding had happened a few hours ago without incident. He had surprised himself how easily he had said his vows. They weren’t really lies. He did love her and he would make sure he was faithful from her from now on. It would be nice, to have someone to come home to every night for the rest of his life. She would be good for him.

“Has anyone seen Ben yet?” Jay asked again, crunching on a handful of crisps. “Has he returned from his day of debauchery?”

“Nah,” Ian replied, rolling his eyes. “Probably on to the next one by now.”

“Not like him to miss a free knees-up though, is it?” Jay replied. “Shall I give him a call?

“He left his phone on the side this morning,” Ian replied, “So unless he’s come back to get it, you won’t get a response.”

“That’s Bobby’s phone,” Kathy replied shaking her head. “Ben took his with him.”

“No,” Ian said disagreeing. “Bobby’s is a different colour. Ben had it with him early this morning. He was fiddling with it and whistling.”

“Oh,” Kathy replied, confused. “Not like him to leave his phone. I swore I saw Bobby on it before we left.” She craned her head towards the bar where Bobby was chatting to Bernie. “Bobby? When’d you last see Ben?”

The young Beale looked around with a deadpan face. “I saw him leave the house at about quarter to nine. I gave him a wave from my window then I fell back to sleep for an hour.”

Callum realised that his mind had been playing tricks on him that morning. It couldn’t possibly have been Bobby he saw. Ben had been going out, probably heading in to town for breakfast before meeting up with some stranger. He couldn’teven wait twenty four hours. He couldn’t even have strolled past the park to tell Callum that it was all a game to him. It would have hurt, but it would have been a sharp, quick pain, not this dull ache that stayed in his stomach.

Looking around the bar, he saw Whitney still dancing with the Slater girls, swishing her large skirt around. She turned and blew him a little kiss, turning back to her family straight after. The Beales were behind him, joined by Martin, who had sobered up long enough to start sipping at pints again. Mick had his hands around Linda’s waist, dropping kisses on her neck as she smiled up at him.

Callum rose quickly from his seat, the air in the room stifling. It was all too much, the reverberation from the speakers screeching through the bar, the rustling colours of formal wear gouging at his eyes and the stench of over salted snacks littering the air made his breath catch on his throat. He headed to the bathroom door, trying to force a smile to all the people that smacked him on the arm and raised their glasses as they went.

The respite of the gent’s toilets brought down the banging in his head. He stepped over to the basin, pressing his hands down on the surface, helping to relieve some of the tension in his body. He tried to get a predictable rhythm back to his breathing, staring in the mirror to focus his attention. The sight of his face in front of him, looking haggard and pained, was too much so he moved his gaze towards the right, putting himself out of focus. The reflection in the mirror revealed something on the wall he didn’t want to see.

Slowly he turned around, then walked over to the wall, sinking quickly down onto his knees. He lifted his fingers and traced along the raised, rough lettering there. It seemed like a life time ago. It had seemed so real at the time. Ben had seemed so genuine, the masquerade being so strong and convincing, his mask hadn’t slipped once. That was truly a machiavellian talent.

The salty flavour tinged his lips, and it wasn’t until that moment that he realised he was crying, the tears falling with such ease. The sight of the broken vow in front of him, making them hot with a rage. He hadn’t known that his fist had hit the wall until his hand started to sting. The initials remained in tact and he started to hit and beat the wall again, hoping the letters would just fade away like the mirage they were. They stayed unchanged, mocking his attempts.

Standing up, he went to run his hand under the tap. The door swung open and Stuart walked in. Callum quickly wiped his eyes and sniffed, though he knew his face betrayed his emotions.

“Alright, little brother?” Stuart asked, his voice conveying his uncertainty.

“Yeah,” Callum replied, putting his smile back on. “Emotional day, eh? Whitney looked beautiful, didn’t she?

“You’re a lucky man,” his brother replied, seemingly pleased with Callum’s response. “Look, mate, I just want to apologise again, yeah? I know I was out of order.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I know you’re only looking out for me,” Callum answered.

“I want to make it up to you,” Stuart said nervously, fiddling with some paper in his hands. “I’ve booked a little honeymoon for you and Whit.”

“What?” Callum said, not quite expecting the offer.

“It’s an all expenses paid trip to the Canaries for three weeks,” Stuart said, practically bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. He passed the paper eagerly to Callum.

“This says we leave tonight!” he exclaimed, unsure how they were supposed to make it in time.

“It’s all sorted,” Stuart confirmed. “I’ve squared it with Jay so you’ve got the time off from work. Tiff and Linda were round at yours today and packed your cases.”

Callum stiffened a little at that. Perhaps it was silly for someone who had never really lived alone, but he was a private person and a panic set in at the thought of anyone touching his things without his knowledge.

“So, all you need is a couple of bottles of factor thirty and your new missus! What d’ya say?”

What could he say? In truth, the last thing he wanted was to go anywhere now. A part of him wanted to stay and confront Ben when he finally showed his face, to get closure and answers. He knew the rational thing would be to accept Stuarts offer. That’s what a normal husband would do, right?

“Cheers, mate,” he said, feigning enthusiasm in his voice. “Whit’ll be made up.”

He wasn’t wrong. When he went back into the bar, Stuart in tow, to reveal to his wife where they were going, the room filled with shrieks from Whitney and her family. There were hugs and kisses all around and it seemed almost immediately they were bundled into the back of a cab, swerving around the square, their friends and family waving goodbye.

If Callum had only looked back at that moment, if only for a few seconds, he would have noticed Ben Mitchell standing at the back of the crowd, his face full of thunder.

Chapter Text

“Cheers, Mate,” Callum said, as he tipped the driver, hauling the bags out of the cab. The air was cool on his arms, his body not yet used to the lack of humidity in the air.

Swinging one bag over his shoulder and pulling the other along behind him, he headed towards the door of their flat while Whitney stopped to chat to one of the girls on the market, chirping happily about white beaches and late night sangria. Fumbling into his pocket, he pulled out his key and slipped it into the lock, the task seeming stiff with absence.

The door banged and bounced against the wall as he kicked his way in, unable to release his hands. He was halfway upstairs when he heard a shriek behind him.

“Callum!” Whitney hissed, a tone of annoyance ringing out. She was now standing at the door at the bottom of the stairs with her hands on her hips. “Haven’t you forgotten something?”

He curiously looked around him, counting the bags, confirming they were all there. He patted down his pockets, checking his phone and wallet were with him. Looking back at Whitney, he gave a confused shrug. “What?”

Whitney tutted and rolled her eyes, with a little laugh. “You’re supposed to carry me over the threshold, ya wally. It’s tradition, ain’t it?” she replied, with a shake of her head.

“Oh, right,” Callum replied, half-heartedly. To be honest, he just wanted to get upstairs and into a shower, his body and mind feeling weary to excess. He understood how important this tradition was to Whitney though. Striding down a few stairs, he realised that the bags were still in the middle of the path he was to carry her through, so he jumped back up and moved them to the side so they were balanced precariously on one stair.

When he reached downstairs, he saw Whitney smiling at him expectantly. She put her arm around his neck and squealed with delight when he bent down, lifting her legs off the ground with ease. Heading towards the doorway, a flash of a leather jacket caught his eye, a wave of feeling washing through him. Turning his head quickly, his body eased when he realised he didn’t recognise the owner.

“Oww! Callum!” Whitney cried, as her head hit the frame of the door.

“Sorry!” he apologised, correcting his stance and navigating his wife safely through the entrance. She was rubbing her head vigorously, causing his grip to slip slightly. As he was readjusting her in his arms, he didn’t notice the hazardously placed suitcase finally topple over and down the stairs until it knocked into his thigh, sending them both careening into a wall.

“I think I’ll just walk up,” Whitney announced, stepping over the case. She looked back and gave Callum a small smile. “C’mon. What a way to start our marriage, eh?”

Water coursed over his shoulders, the temperate heat feeling luxurious to his muscles. The shower in Tenerife was nothing more than either a cool trickle or a burning blast, no matter how you turned the dial. It left Callum feeling either freezing or sweltering for the entire time. He just couldn’t get his temperature right once in the whole three weeks they were there, the sensation clawing at him constantly.

Now though, he could just put his head back and relax, able to stay under the water for as long as he wanted. Their bathroom at the hotel didn’t have a lock on it so Whitney could just stroll in and out whenever she liked. He knew that he should be alright with that; they were married after all. It just made him on edge, he couldn’t truly be alone with his thoughts.

That was perhaps for the best. Getting married apparently didn’t automatically erase Ben from his brain the way he hoped it would. He felt bitter and misled, by that, like signing a bit of paper should have rid his head of thoughts of anything but Whitney. Nothing had changed. Part of him hated Ben for standing him up and forcing him to go through with the marriage when he had shown him a glimpse of a sweet other option.

There was still a fragment of Callum that wanted the other man though, that couldn’t get his image and touch out of his head. On that second night at the hotel, when Whitney had emerged from the bathroom in a silk black negligée and nothing else, it was Ben’s face he pictured. He ignored what his hands and body felt; he just scrunched up his eyes and took his mind back to strong but gentle fingertips and messy kisses.

Betrayal was what he experienced afterwards. He struggled to look Whitney in the eye, but that was often the case with her after they’d had sex, so she probably didn’t notice anything unusual. She just thought him embarrassed by the situation. A shy man who wasn’t overtly sexual. It wasn’t like that with Ben; he couldn’t stop looking him in the eye, he couldn’t stop his hands from moving and his mouth from searching.

Callum tentatively ran his hand down his body, trying to mirror Ben’s touch. The warm water encouraged him, cheered him on to go further. He swept his thumb around the sensitive skin of his upper thigh, remembering how Ben’s hand had lingered and tickled there, the sensation flipping all the way to his stomach. It didn’t feel quite the same when he did it, but it was more turned on than he’d felt for the last few weeks.

With shaking hands, he moved his hand and reached around the base of his dick, his hand stilling for a moment before moving for a few strokes. He squeezed his eyes shut and let his head fall back  against the tile, the dropping water feeling like fingertips and soft lips over his body. He leaned back slightly, imagining that Ben was in there with him, the water dripping off his head onto those sinful lips that were poised by Callum’s cock.

“Babe!” Whitney’s muffled voice called through the door. “You alright? You ain’t drowned in there, have you?”

Callum’s eyes popped open and his hand dropped immediately. The fantasy was over and he was transported quickly back to the reality of being in the flat he shared with his wife. “Nah, I’ll be out in a minute,” he called out with a shaky voice.

“Alright,” she hollered back impatiently. “Hurry up ‘cause I want to pop over the Vic soon.”

Turning the temperature control harshly, he huffed out a harsh breath as the cold water hit his skin, ridding him of all calmness and shaking him back to lucidity. Swiftly grabbing a towel, he rubbed himself down, taking one last big breath before unlocking the bathroom door.

There was no fanfare when they opened the door to the Queen Victoria. Whitney clutched a little cuddly parrot she’d bought for Ollie, grinning from ear to ear as they entered the pub.

“There they are!” a voice shrieked, and all he saw was a sea of pink rush towards him. “Blimey, Halfway, did you stay in a bunker? You ain’t got a tan at all.”

“Slathered himself in factor fifty and sat under an umbrella by the pool the whole time, didn’t he?” Whitney commented to Linda, who leaned up to give Callum a kiss on the cheek.

“I burn easily,” Callum explained, but neither women were listening. They were both cooing over the soft toy.

“How cute!” Linda exclaimed, hugging it close. “I’m sure Ollie will love it. And how about you Whit? Got a little Highway in there yet?” she said patting the other woman’s tummy.

Whitney giggled and shook her head. “No, not yet. We’re gonna wait a while, ain’t we?” she reasoned, looking towards Callum.

“Yeah, we just want to enjoy being married for a bit,” he replied, turning his mouth into a smile. That was the plan anyway. Get married, spend a year or two saving, buy a place of their own, have a kid, then have another kid, retire and then die. All his life laid out for him. Safe and predictable. That’s what he has chosen. That’s what made his heart constantly feel like it was pumping its way out of his chest and blocking the exhale of his breath.

“Aww, well don’t wait too long,” Linda replied. “It’ll be the best thing you ever do. Go sit down, I’ll bring you over a drink.”

They chose the corner booth and Linda quickly set down a pint in front of him. Whitney pulled out her phone and started to scroll through the pictures of the honeymoon, producing a running commentary to Callum like he hadn’t been there. Nodding along, he tried to look happy, but it wasn’t a time he wanted to remember. It was the worst few weeks of his life and he didn’t want to look over snapshots that just jolted back memories of his emotions at that moment.

Whitney was just talking him through the dinner they had on night five, when the door of the Vic slammed open and Jay walked in. Following casually behind was Ben. Callum almost felt his eyes well up, but he used all his energy to push it down, clenching his fist and pressing his nails into the palm of his hand. He didn’t know what this emotion was. It felt like all the possible ones available were screeching and howling their way through his body. There was part of him that just wanted to rush off his chair and push him to the ground. Whether he would punch him or kiss him there, he wasn’t entirely sure.

“Hey, you alright! Back at last?” Jay called, turning around from the bar to see the couple.

“Well, if it ain’t the golden couple of Walford. Good trip? You went to Egypt didn’t you?” Ben asked, taking a step towards their table.

“What? No,” Whitney replied, shaking her head. “The honeymoon was in the Canaries.”

“Oh really?” Ben replied, deliberately with fake confusion. He slowly dragged a bar stool over, the screech of the wood polluting the air, and placed it too close to where Callum was sitting. He slowly took a seat, their legs practically touching. “Cause I heard Callum was in ‘de Nile.”

Turning his head slightly, Callum finally held Ben’s gaze. He was a little surprised that there was no hint of apology there for standing him up. In fact, it seemed the opposite; his blue eyes were filled with a fire and pain. “Nahh,” Whitney replied in all seriousness. “We were in Tenerife.”

“Ahh, my mistake,” Ben replied holding his hands up as Jay came and took a seat at the table. “Hearing aid’s been playing up recently. It makes it seem that people are telling me one thing and doing another.”

“Aww,” Whitney said sympathetically. Callum just pursed his lips at the veiled comment. They were coming thick and fast now, though he was frustrated that Ben presumed he wouldn’t get married when he was the one that ditched him. “Do you want to see a few snaps from the holiday?”

Callum thought he saw Ben’s face fall out of its smile for a second, just for a moment so brief that most people wouldn’t notice. “Why not?” Ben said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s start with the kinky ones.”

“Um, no thanks,” Jay replied, sipping at his beer. “I don’t really want to have to gouge my eyes out with a plastic spork in my lunch hour.”

“Like I’d have dirty photos on my phone anyway!” Whitney replied. “I don’t need a photo, I’ve got my man right here,” she answered openly, leaning towards Callum.

“I’m not expecting a close up of your tan lines,” Ben remarked. “Just photos of all the different places you did it. Think of it like a Sex Tour of Tenerife. I might need some recommendations if I go.”

“What’s wrong with you today? I’m trying to eat my chilli here. D’ya mind?” Jay said, tucking into the lunch Linda had brought over. “I don’t need to think about where me mates got their jollies off, do I?”

“Here ya are,” Whitney said cheerfully, showing Ben a photo. “That’s our hotel room. Nice, ain’t it?”

Ben darted his eyes at Callum, clearly putting on this whole performance was his benefit. “What? That’s it? No poolside fumbles or getting your rocks off by the beach. What was the matter, Cal? The view not do it for you?”

“He’s a gentleman is all!” Whitney replied. “Not all men are like you, acting like a teenager on heat. We’re not about to go rutting on park benches or in the middle of a club. He’s too lovely for that, ain’t you babe?”

“Yeah,” Callum choked out, not missing the little shake of Ben’s head that told him he knew different.

“Leave him alone, would you, Ben,” Jay protested. “We’re not all as brazen as you. He’s just a bit shy about things like that.”

“Is he?” Ben asked, widening his eyes. “Well you know what they say about the quiet ones, don’t you? They’re the ones you need to watch. Keep your eye out, Whit. You don’t want him straying.”

Callum kicked Ben harshly under the table then while Whitney tutted. “I’ve had enough frogs in my time, Ben,” She answered impatiently, waving her finger slightly for emphasis. “Trust me, he ain’t goin’ anywhere else. I give you all you need, don’t I babe?”

“Course,” he mumbled, turning to Ben, wanting to give him some of his own medicine. “That’s why I married her.”

“No, you’re right of course,” Ben said nodding like he agreed. “I don’t think Callum would ever leave you for another woman.”

Callum was just about to give the other man another swift kick when his wife  thankfully change the course of the discussion. “How ‘bout you, Ben?” Whitney asked curiously. “You found anyone you want to spend more than five minutes with yet?”

Ben shook his head as Callum’s ears pricked up. “You know me Whit. Why stick with one flavour when you can experience them all?”

“What about that fella you were talking about?” Jay asked, scraping the last of the chilli of his plate.

“Which one?” Ben replied casually. “I try and tell you about a lot of guys but you usually don’t listen.”

“This one was different though. Not that I wanted the gory details, but you gave them anyway. Something about the earth moving, stars colliding that sort of thing,” Jay replied, as Ben ducked his head slightly.

“Well, I never put it like that. I ain’t a teenage girl writing a song for my school talent show,“ he said, and Callum could tell he was a little flustered that Jay had turned the conversation back on him. “Anyway, that’s the last time I tell you anything in confidence.”

“Oh, so it’s alright to try and get all the details of their sex life, but we’re not allowed to talk about your love life?” Jay asked, turning towards his brother.

“Hmm, I think you’ll find love and sex are very different things,” Ben said, taking the final swig of his drink.

“Not always,” Callum blurted out, almost unintentionally. Ben just looked at him then, almost as if trying to figure out a puzzle that didn’t quite fit.

“Where were you on our wedding day then? With one of your flavours?” Whitney enquired.

“Just a bit tied up,” Ben smiled. “I’m sure it was marvellous, apologies and all that. I did make sure that I got Callum off to bed the night before though.”

“Anyone want another drink?” Callum asked, standing up quickly.

Ben looked at him, questioningly again, before he nodded his head towards Whitney. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

“No, we’re not having anything, “Jay responded with a huff, standing up and stretching his arms. “I’ve got to get back to work and you’ve got to get back to the carlot.”

“Oh, we’ve got a little souvenir back at the flat for Lexi. It’s just a little something,” Whitney said to Ben. “Do you want to pop in and get it at some point?”

“Nah, Callum can give it to me.” Ben remarked pointedly grinning down at the man.

He gave a nod to the couple and then followed his brother out of the pub. “That was weird, weren’t it?” Whitney said, rolling her eyes towards the door. “I think we need to find him a proper fella, you know. Calm him down a bit.”

Callum drained the last of his beer. “I’m not sure he’ll ever change.”

----------------------------------------------

Looking back towards the gate, Callum was considering just going. He’d given a loud knock at the Beale’s back door but felt awkward standing on the porch waiting for someone to open it.

Whitney had insisted he take Lexi’s present round today as it had been sitting on the sideboard for over a week. Part of him hoped it was Kathy or Ian who answered the door, that way he could just pass the little bag over and leave. Hidden deep down though, he knew he hoped that it would be Ben who came to the door. There were still so many questions that needed answered, including his peculiar behaviour at the pub last week. He didn’t understand why Ben seemed so angry with him.

The door clattered open and his heart beat a little faster. When Ben raised his eyebrows, he realised he had been standing there for several moments and had failed to say anything yet. He held out the bag in front of him. “For Lexi.”

Ben cocked his head to the side. His hair was slightly wet at the temples, probably still drying from a shower and Callum wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through it, putting it back in place.

Opening the door wide, Ben stepped back motioning for Callum to come in. He hesitantly entered, closing the door behind him. “Be careful with the knob,” Ben stated with a grin. “It’s a bit wobbly. We think it took a bit of a bang a few weeks back.”

Callum quickly released his hand from the handle, the memory of the last time he gripped it appearing in his mind, turning his cheeks pink. Ben clearly knew too, smirking as he entered the lounge. “Lex, Callum’s got something for you.”

On the floor of the lounge lay the young girl, surrounded by a wall of pillows and cushions, not moving at all. “What’s she doing?” Callum asked, when she continued to be still.

“They’re doing Romans as a topic in school,” Ben explained. “She’s pretending she’s some tribal queen that’s defending her land. She’s been like that for two hours now. Dramatic, ain’t she?

“Wonder where she gets that from?” Callum commented, sharing a brief smile with Ben, before both men remembered the events that had passed and looked away. He gazed towards the tower of cushions and saw two eyes peaking through a crack. It was the sort of thing he did when he was a kid, build a fort for himself and lock the whole world out. Create his own world where he could be whoever he wanted to be.

Callum bent down on his knees, shuffling a little closer. “Queen Lexi, may I please beg a moment of you time?”

“Who goes there?” a little voice squeaked from behind a pillow. “You’re not a Roman, are you?”

“I am your loyal subject sent to help defend your land,” he answered, pulling the gift out of the bag. “I have brought you the last dragon remaining in all the kingdoms, Your Majesty.”

He held out the little stuffed blue dragon that they had picked up at a market in Tenerife. There was no sound or movement for a moment before suddenly all the cushions scattered everywhere as Lexi appeared out of her fort with a wide smile. She took the toy out of his hand and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you, my prince!”

“Just doing my duty, My Grace,” he said, giving her hair a stroke.

“Look Daddy, look!” Lexi squealed as she showed Ben the dragon.

“You’re a lucky girl, eh? Why don’t you take him upstairs while Daddy has a chat with the knight in shining armour here?” Ben replied. Lexi gladly complied, giving shouts of ‘Kill the Romans!’ as she marched up the stairs.

“I should be getting back,” Callum said, feeling nervous now that they were alone.

“You been boxsetting Game of Thrones with Whitney?” Ben asked, starting to clear the pillows off the floor and ignoring Callum’s comment. He knew he couldn’t leave now. The comment was Ben’s way of saying he wanted the conversation; he wanted the attention. “How romantic!”

“Why are you so angry with me?” Callum asked, bending down to help Ben pick up the cushions.

“I ain’t angry at no one,” Ben said through gritted teeth. “Why would I be?”

Callum threw down one of the pillows. “Exactly,” he replied harshly, trying to keep his voice down. “If anything, I should be angry at you.”

“For what exactly?” Ben replied, his voice booming though the lounge. “For forcing you to marry Whitney and sail off into the sunset? That was all on you, soldier.”

“Keep your voice down, Lexi’s upstairs,” Callum scolded, placing the final pillow on the sofa, then turning towards Ben.  “What was I supposed to do? Sit at a park bench forever, waiting for you?”

Ben stilled then and Callum thought he saw a hint of regret cross his face for the first time. “You turned up then,” Ben muttered, his voice quiet this time.

“Yeah, I did,” Callum said, holding his head high. “I made a promise.”

Ben huffed a laugh.  “That’s why you did it, was it? A sense of duty? Cause you made Whit a promise when you stuck that ring on her finger, and all. You were just making vows left, right and centre.”

“I turned up because I meant what I said that night,” Callum said taking a step closer. “You were the one that didn’t turn up.”

Ben turned his back and walked back towards the sofa, his fists balling up by his sides. “Well, clearly you were cut up about it! You were heading out on your honeymoon twelve hours later. Not exactly bereft, were you?”

“What could I do?” Callum answered, and he could hear his voice crack a little and his eyes water. “I didn’t know what else to do! You promised me you’d be there!”

“And why’d you think I weren’t?!” Ben shouted. “Did you even stop to think about why I weren’t there? Did you even bother to try and find out? Or did it just make the choice easy for you?”

Callum looked down guiltily. Thinking back, he knew he should have gone and looked for Ben straight away. He felt so embarrassed though, the feeling that all the things he’d said and done with the other man were all a lie and all in his head. Then when people started to make comments at the wedding, he felt even more ashamed. “Your family said you were out with some fella,” Callum answered quietly.

“That’s what you think of me is it?” Ben replied, a darkness in his eyes that unsettled him. “That I’d just fall into bed with someone the day after we…”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve slept with two guys on two different days, would it?” Callum hissed harshly, remembering all the frustration and pain he had felt in the last few weeks, sitting by the pool, going over and over it in his head. Thinking someone had seen the real him and not run away, but embraced it. Thinking about how wrong he was, knowing that he really hadn’t been good enough.

“It’s different with you,” Ben said quietly, as if he was hoping Callum wouldn’t hear him. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Then why didn’t you turn up?” Callum pleaded, tears now filling his eyes.

“I was walking across the Square, next thing I know I’m waking up in a shed in the allotment,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I’ve got a bump on my head, I feel like I’ve downed thirteen shots of tequila and I’m laying on a bunch of carrots!”

“What happened?” Callum asked, the shame of not going to look for Ben coming back stronger than ever.

“Ain’t got a clue,” Ben said, shrugging his shoulders. “All I know is that I staggered back to the square just in time to see you drive off on your honeymoon like you didn’t have a care in the world.”

Callum approached Ben and put his hand on his cheek, rubbing softly there. “Ben, I’m so sorry.”

Ben closed his eyes and seemed to lean into Callum’s touch, before lifting his own hand to remove the fingers from his face. “I told you I wouldn’t be your second choice. This stops, Cal.”

“I thought you didn’t want me,” Callum said the tears falling onto his cheeks. “I thought you didn’t mean the things you said.”

“I did mean them,” Ben said with a wry smile. “I don’t anymore. You’ve reminded me why I don’t do second times or second chances.”

With that, Ben stepped aside, making a clear path to the kitchen. It was evident he didn’t want to talk any further today. Callum brushed away his tears with his arm and headed towards the door, surprised when Ben grabbed his wrist, causing him to stop in his tracks. “Callum, you are worth it. You just have to be the one to realise it.”

Callum held back a sob until the back door had closed.

--------------------------------- 

Mick was doing a deal on drinks in the pub, so it was heaving when he and Whitney stepped up to the bar.

“A pint and a gin and tonic, please Linda,” Callum requested over the noise of the bar.

“Can I interest you in our special offer?” Linda replied with a smile, pointing to a jug of drink on the bar. “Two glasses of Blue Lagoon for a fiver?”

Callum stared at the alcohol in front of him. “It’s pink,” he replied. He didn’t have an endless knowledge of cocktails, but he was sure this one wasn’t meant to be this shade.

“We had a little mix up with the delivery,” Linda whispered conspiratorially.  “We forgot to order the curacao. And the lemonade’s running low so we had to use cranberry.”

“So, it’s just a jug of vodka and cranberry?” Whitney asked, raising her eyebrows.

“It’s got some little umbrellas in it,” Linda added in, hoping to sway her customers.

“A pint and a gin and tonic, please Linda,” Callum repeated with a smile.

They managed to find a clear table, quickly sitting down as people got up to leave. When the door of the pub swung open, he wasn’t surprised to see Ben walk in, followed in tow by Lola and Jay. It had been a week since the argument at the Beale’s and he had been replaying it in his head ever since. What he didn’t expect was a strange man to be accompanying them into the bar.

“A bit of luck, innit?” Jay said taking a seat at Callum and Whitney’s booth. “Didn’t think we’d get a table.”

 “Chocker in here, ain’t it?” Lola added.  “I thought we’d have to all sit on Ted and Patrick’s laps!”

“Well I’ve been on worse,” Ben replied, straddling a bar stool opposite Callum.

“There ain’t much you ain’t been on,” Jay quipped back. Callum was finding it hard to smile at the right times though, too distracted with the man who sat to Ben’s left. He was about their age and his blonde hair hung in loose curls over his forehead. Currently, he was wearing a fitted black t-shirt and Ben’s hand on his thigh.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your…friend,” Whitney asked inquisitively.

Ben rubbed his hand up and down his companion’s thigh. “This is Shep; we met the other night,” he said with a smile. “Shep, this is Callum and Whitney, love’s young dream.

“Nice to meet you, Shep,” Whitney said, briefly holding out her hand and then retreating it, when she didn’t get a response. “That’s unusual, ain’t it? Never met a Shep before.”

“Believe me, he’s definitely not usual,” Ben said salaciously, leaning over and kissing him on the neck. Shep responded by pulling Ben up and placing a long kiss on his mouth.

“Urggh,” Lola said pulling a face towards the couple. “Do ya have to?”

Ben pulled away from Shep, looking pointedly at his friend. “Oh, it’s fine for other people to have PDAs but not me and him?”

“It ain’t nothin’ to do with that,” Jay intercepted. “It’s the fact you’ve only known him two days and none of us have heard him speak a word of English yet. I mean, not understanding the blather that comes from your gob is probably a blessing, but it does make you wonder how deep your connection goes.”

Shep just nodded along unhelpfully. “Oh, it goes deep. You don’t need words for what we’ve been doing,” Ben added, looking across the table. “We don’t make you uncomfortable, do we Cal?

Everyone was now staring across at Callum, including Shep who seemed to be looking him up and down admiringly. “Nah, do what you want to do. You always do anyway,” he replied, trying to keep his tone neutral. He stood up and headed to the gents before he had to witness Shep’s tongue disappearing down Ben’s throat again.

Pushing at the door harshly, he just missed knocking into Kush. He gave the other man an apologetic nod before entering the gents. He didn’t even put up a pretence of going to the toilet or washing his hands. He just leaned against the wall with his arms folded, waiting. Sure enough, the door soon swung open.

“We need some sort of code, Callum,” Ben quipped when he was in the room. “And possibly a different meeting place, I think Shirley’s convinced I’ve got a problem with my waterworks, I’m in here so much.”

“What are you playing at?” Callum asked harshly, lifting himself off the wall to stand closer to Ben.

Ben’s smirk grew, but no lightness reached his eyes. “You must know about me by now, Callum. I don’t play at anything. Games are for amateurs.”

“That’s not what I’m seeing,” Callum replied. “You’re playing with that guy to punish me.”

“My world don’t revolve around you,” Ben spat out, his tone not quite matching his words. “Besides, I think he was more interested in you than me. You got an admirer.”

“Why you got to be like that?” Callum asked, quietly. “Bringing him in and kissing him in front of me.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Ben said, nodding with over-the-top agreement. “I should have just married him, that would have been much gentler on your feelings that a peck on the lips! Do you hear yourself?”

“That’s different,” Callum said shaking his head. “I’m not deliberately parading Whitney around in front of you. She’s got nothing to do with you and me.”

Ben gave a loud laugh then. “I gave you a fumbled hand job in the park and the next day you proposed to her! I blow you in my kitchen and twelve hours later you were marrying her! The poor cow’s whole world is built on our sex life and she ain’t got a fucking clue!”

“I don’t know what to do,” Callum said tearfully. “I never wanted to hurt anyone.”

“I know you didn’t,” Ben replied softly now, his temper calming almost immediately.

“I just know I can’t stand seeing you with these blokes,” he sniffed, knowing that what he was asking was impossible. “The way I feel about you, I…”

“You what?” Ben asked, coming nearer to him.

“I don’t know,” Callum replied, not willing to reveal any more of his feelings than he wanted to. Ben was standing in front of him and all he wanted to do was fall into his arms. “I just feel different when I’m with you. Then I see you with these fellas and realise I’m not all that special after all.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ben practically whispered. “You’re one of a kind, you. The last dragon.”

They both smiled a little, but Callum was aware that Ben was purposefully keeping his touch away from him. “I don’t know what to do,” he repeated again.

Ben gave a small sigh and moved away, opening the door and motioning to leave. “I know you don’t. Come back to me when you do.”

After he left, Callum took a few minutes to splash some water on his face. He just felt like everything was becoming even messier. There was no escaping Ben, they lived in the same place, they shared friends and drank at the same pub. He spent every waking moment craving him with his entire body and that was just when he wasn’t around the other man. He couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t live like this.  He had to tell Whitney. She would scream and shout and be upset, but she would get over it. Callum didn’t think he could get over Ben. He’d tried, god knows he had, but the feeling just wasn’t going away.

Kneeling down, he rubbed his fingers over the lettering of the initials. Things didn’t just disappear because you wanted them too. Some things are just carved too deep. He would be brave. He would tell Whitney tonight.

When he left the bathroom, he glanced over and saw Ben and Shep had left. He was so busy looking over at the table, he almost failed to notice Whitney right by the door of the gent’s toilet. Looking down, he could see her face was distraught, with tears rolling down her cheeks and her voice coming out in panicked snuffles.

“I can’t believe it!” she cried, sobbing uncontrollably.

Chapter Text

“I can do it if you want, mate, I mean you don’t look thrilled with the idea.”

Callum looked down at the two boxes in front of him, shaking his head at Jay’s suggestion. This was his responsibility. He had felt so powerless in the last week, he needed to take ownership of something.

“Alright, well I’m gonna head off,” Jay said, putting on his coat and grabbing some keys. “Lock up before you leave, yeah?”

Callum smiled in his direction as his friend gave him a pat on the shoulder, before heading towards the exit of the undertakers.

Now he was finally alone, he could let go a little. He loosened his black tie and leaned against the wall, eventually sliding down to sit on the floor. The two boxes were perched on chairs in front of him; there really was no getting away from them.

There was not much point hurrying to get back home, upstairs to the flat. Whitney was gone, it would just be cold and dark from being empty all day. It had been seven days since she had left tearfully, throwing as many things into a bag as she could before quickly getting into a black cab.

It had been the second time that Callum had reached enough courage to tell her the truth and for the second time something had got in his way. That night in the pub, he’d found her outside the toilets in such a state. She’d quickly fallen into his arms, unable to get out the reason for her breakdown.

Linda had appeared hurriedly by their side. “She’s just had a phone call,” the landlady whispered quietly. “Bianca’s been in a car accident. She’s…well it’s not looking too good.”

To be honest, it had been the last thing he had been expecting. In a way, he almost felt guilty about Bianca’s accident, like the earth had done something in order to prevent him telling Whitney the truth about him and Ben. He’d tried to comfort her the best he could, taking her back to the flat and helping her pack. He even half-heartedly offered to go with her, though he was grateful when she shook her head, telling him that he needed to stay and work.

Thankfully, Bianca was through the worst of it. She was still in intensive care, but her condition was stable. Whitney called him every day with an update, thanking him for being the most supportive husband in the world. It made him think, if Bianca had got into that accident an hour later, then he may have already told Whitney. She would have had to deal with losing her husband, and possibly losing the closest thing she had to a mum, all on the same day. It would have crushed her completely.

In that moment, he hated himself, disgusted at what he had become. There was so much lying, there was so much pain and so much loss that the weight of it on his shoulders was becoming unbearable. He felt like he just kept on letting people down. Now, he couldn’t even do the one thing someone had asked of him; he just staring at the boxes hoping an answer would come into his head. How could it? There was no space up there anymore, too filled up by the monsters cackling and biting. The tears came again, trying to escape the noises in there, freeing themselves onto his eyelashes.

“Right, you know it’s the punters that are supposed to be in mourning, not you?”

Callum lifted his head up suddenly to see Ben standing at the door, looking down at him with a wry smile and a furrowed forehead.  He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and sniffed loudly. “Probably not the best look for business. What you doin’ here?”

“I saw Jay on the square, asked him if he wanted a drink with me and Lo,” Ben replied, walking further into the room. “He said you were in a bit of a state and he was gonna come back for you. I said I’d see to you.”

“Thanks,” Callum muttered, unsure what else to say. They hadn’t really talked since that night in the Vic, but the atmosphere didn’t feel uncomfortable. Ben looked at the chairs curiously, then came and sat down on the floor next to Callum.

“So, is there a reason we’re here after closing, staring at some boxes and crying?” Ben said after a very short moment. He pulled his face into a grimace. “There ain’t heads in them, are there?”

“No!” Callum said tutting and knocking Ben with his elbow. “This is Richard and Mary Goodwin, well it was when they were alive; this is their ashes.”

“Right,” Ben said slowly and Callum could tell he was trying to be on his best behaviour; the snarky comments swimming around his head must have been unbearable. “Is there a reason why they get a comfy chair and my arse now has the imprint of a skirting board on it?

To be fair to Ben, he had tried, Callum could see that. “They’re dead!” he replied, assuming that would be an acceptable answer.

“Exactly!” Ben replied. “I can’t see them kicking up much of a fuss if you shoved them on the floor. Look, they got their own little comfy box and everything. Snug as a bug in rug. Well, one that has been doused in petrol and set alight, anyway.”

“Ben!” Callum said, rubbing his forehead.

“Alright! I’ll be good, scout’s honour,” he said, holding his hand up, manoeuvring his fingers into a gesture.

“That’s the Star Trek hand thingy and you was never a scout!” Callum replied, a small smile escaping to his face.

“True,” Ben replied wistfully. “Pretty tricky to keep up with your needlework badge when you’re in and out of nick. I think I would have liked all those camping trips though. All those teenage hormones flying around. A bit of dib dabbing here and there. I bet you were a scout, weren’t you?

“Nah,” Callum said shaking his head. “I was in the cadets.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Ben said, thinking it through with a nod. “You would have looked cute with your little uniform on. Oh! That raises a good point, have you still got your old army uniform or has Whitney fashioned it into some god awful sweater vest yet?”

Callum wrinkled his brow, turning to Ben in confusion. “Yeah, I’ve got it. Why?”

Ben’s face turned into a huge grin and his eyes looked Callum up and down. “For reasons,” he smirked.

“I’m not wearing my uniform for you,” Callum exclaimed, though he felt a bit of lightness creep back into his body.

Ben leaned in and whispered conspiratorially with a smirk. “That’s ok. You don’t have to wear anything.”

The silence in the air was thick and Callum couldn’t help to think back to last week. Ben hadn’t wanted to do this with him. For some reason though, he couldn’t stay away.

“So why exactly are we spending a Friday night with the Goodwins? I mean, I’m not a fan of double dates at the best of times anyway. Do you think they want a drink?”

“I’m supposed to take care of them,” Callum revealed quietly, looking down at his hands.

Ben looked back at the boxes. “Well, I think they seem alright, so how about we go and join Jay for a swift half. We’ve got one of Lexi’s old baby monitors back at the house, if you’re really worried.”

“It’s not funny,” Callum replied, the emotion in his voice clear. “Mrs Goodwin, when she died, she asked that I dispose of her ashes.”

“Where?”

Callum shrugged. “I don’t know. She never had time to scatter her husband’s before she passed, so now I’ve got both of them. She didn’t even have money for a proper urn; she said they scrimped all their lives, never went abroad together, just two weeks down in Hastings every summer. They lived in the same flat all their lives. They didn’t have any kids, just a few friendly neighbours at the end.”

“Surely, this must happen though? People with no one else. There must be some place to put them?” Ben asked.

“Yeah, there’s a place at the crematorium. They’ll be put in with everyone else and no one will ever remember they were here at all,” Callum answered sadly. He’d told her that if she needed anything she just had to ask. She’d only asked one thing of him and he couldn’t even do that well. He’d just have to throw her away with all the other lost souls.

Ben stood up suddenly with a clap of his hands. “Right, you take her and I’ll take him,” he said picking up the box of Richard Goodwin’s ashes.

Callum stayed sitting, not sure what was happening. “What are you doing?”

“Well I’m not going to take them for a drink at the Vic, am I? Though they’d probably be more fun than some of the regulars,” Ben said, heading for the door. “Would you hurry up, Callum!”

Jumping to his feet, he picked up the second box of ashes, grabbed his phone and keys and followed Ben out, remembering to lock up as he went.

He had to walk at quite a pace to keep up, as Ben was marching purposefully through the Square. “Where we goin’?” he called out, stumbling a little bit on the kerb and just managing to regain his composure.

Ben quickly spun around. “I swear to God, Cal, you drop her and that’s it. I’m not spending my weekend scooping up millions of bits of old lady from outside the laundrette.”

“I won’t drop her,” Callum replied, still unsure of what was happening. His heart rate had sped up and he felt alive though. He did around Ben. He was such a live wire, you never knew what would happen.

They both approached the car lot and Ben deposited the box he was carrying on the bonnet of the closest car, before disappearing into the portacabin. Callum looked around at the Square, it seemed quiet for a Friday night. He noticed Habiba was just strolling past so he gave her a small wave. She didn’t seem to want to be seen though, keeping her head down. He felt awkward here, standing outside the car lot holding a box of ashes. He always felt like a he was caught in a tidal wave when he was with Ben, being thrust along to an unknown destination.

Soon after, Ben left the portacabin, carrying a few things in his hands, including a set of keys. He went to the car with the box on the bonnet and unlocked the back door. “I’ll put Dick in first,” he said smirking, while Callum rolled his eyes.

“We’re going in this car?” he asked as he placed the other box in backseat too, slightly screwing his nose up as the car that was at least as old as he was. It had clearly seen better days and non of them were in recent memory.

“Yes, Callum,” Ben said, a little bit of annoyance in his voice as he opened the passenger door, nodding towards it. He then walked around, getting in the driver’s side. “Because if we get stopped by the plod, I want to be able to say that this is at least legit.”

“You think we’ll be stopped by the police?” Callum asked with a concerned voice, as he put his seat belt on.

“Well, there’s no reason we should be,” Ben said, revving up the engine a little, before pulling out into the road. “But knowing our luck, I wouldn’t be surprised. If the car ain’t hooky, then maybe they won’t notice that I’ve got two dead people in the back!”

“Where are we going?” Callum asked again. Ben chucked some papers at him and he turned them over to discover a map of East Sussex.

“The Sat Nav on my phone is on the blink, so you’ll have to navigate, soldier boy,” Ben explained, turning out of the Square. “I figured no one would go back to Hastings year after year unless it was special to them.”

“They couldn’t afford to go anywhere else,” Callum replied.

“They could have gone to Brighton or Margate. Or Southend or a dozen other places for the same amount of cash. They chose to go to Hastings time and again. That ain’t going on holiday. That’s going somewhere that has meaning,” Ben explained, one hand on the steering wheel and the other propped against the window. 

Callum knew he was right. They had to have gone there fifty times at least during their life together. He can’t believe he didn’t think of it. Looking towards Ben, he gave a small smile. He’d automatically known where the couple’s ashes should go. For some reason, Ben let a lot of people only see the one side of him; this brash, dynamic, smart mouth who manipulated and schemed. He knew this one here was the real Ben though; one that understood loss and pain. One that would just drop everything on a Friday night and drive to Hastings.

--- 

They were out of London now, speeding down the motorway. The sun’s light had all but disappeared, but the moon was bright. The beams hit Ben’s face softly as his concentration was focused on the road. Callum wanted to put his hand out and trace down his features, brushing at the soft hair on his head and running his fingers down his light stubble.

“If you need a distraction, shove the radio on,” Ben said glancing over. “Undressing me with your eyes is making me lose focus and this twat in front keeps on swerving and breaking late.”

The was a slight thud from the back seat as they changed lanes. “Dick is sliding into Mary,” Ben smirked, giving a quick look.

“Did you let Jay know where you were?” Callum asked, aware his boss was worried about him.

“I text him before we left. I told him that I tucked you off to bed, and went to meet someone in town,” Ben replied, glancing at Callum when he got no response. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he replied, gazing out the window.

“What did you want me to tell the truth?” Ben asked accusingly. “Not the best idea. ‘Hey bruv, just popping down to the coast to chuck a few ashes around the beach. Don’t worry, I’m with Callum who I’ve been fumbling about with for the past few months.’”

“Is that what we are then?” Callum asked, turning to face him. “Just two people who been fumbling about?”

Ben gave a long sigh and gripped the steering wheel tighter. “How’s Whitney?” he asked, his tone full of bite.

“I was going to tell her!” Callum said insistently. “That night at the Vic but then she heard about Bianca and I didn’t get the chance.”

“No, you’re right,” Ben said sardonically. “You would have definitely told her that night. You only had months of opportunity before then.” Callum looked down, folding and unfolding the map. Ben gave a sigh and lowered his tone. “Look, I’m not going to force you to tell her. I told you that. This is your choice, Cal.”

“I’m going to tell her,” Callum replied firmly. “When she gets back from taking care of Bianca.”

Ben nodded his head. To Callum’s eyes he didn’t look entirely convinced. He was tired of wanting and waiting. He stretched his hand out and ran the back of his fingers down Ben’s cheek, pleased when the other man’s lips quirked and eyes started to shine. Feeling brave he ran his hand down Ben’s chest and settled it on his thigh, gently rubbing there.

“Shit!” Ben exclaimed as he pressed down quickly on the brakes. A loud thud rebounded from the back seat. “That absolute cock womble in front! I swear I’m going to get out and give him a slap to wake up a bit!”

“It’s fine,” Callum said returning his hand to Ben’s thigh and stroking his leg gently. He was pleased when Ben lowered his left hand and linked their fingers together.

Calming down, Ben nodded to the back seat. “Dick’s banged Mary,” he said, squeezing Callum’s hand.

“You know that stopped being funny the first time?” he replied, rubbing Ben’s hand with his thumb.

“Oh, let me have some fun,” Ben said smiling. “I didn’t even suggest Dick damaged Marys box!”

------

“I’m starting to think you were never in the army at all,” Ben exclaimed, trying to reverse turn in the middle of the street.

“I weren’t in charge of maps!” Callum retorted back, twisting and turning the paper in his hands. “These are about as old as the car anyway, there’s been new builds since then.”

“Will you stop moaning about the car?” Ben said zooming down the road. Drops of rain started to appear from above. “You spend most your days stuck in a hearse with a stiff in the back!”

“Yeah, that’s for work,” Callum responded, trying to squint at the road names. “It’s not my vehicle of choice.”

“Well maybe you should get your own car instead of knocking mine,” Ben said cursing when the windscreen wipers didn’t work.

“Funny that, I bought a van a few months ago.” Callum replied pointedly.

Ben looked over at him with a guilty grin. “Touche. Well, I made it worth your while, didn’t I?” he said with a wink.

Callum blushed slightly before pointing to a road up ahead. “Here, take a left.”

“Why do you get so shy when I talk about sex? You’re not like that during it,” Ben questioned, one hand on the steering wheel.

“Why are you doing 45 down a road with a 30 mile speed limit?” Callum asked, deflecting the question.

“This place is deader than the remains perched on our back seat, you really think anyone will notice?” Ben said, roaring into the next road.

“Yeah, if the police are about,” he said clearly. “The streets are empty, they’re going to notice a car from a different century flying over the speed bumps!”

“Well if we’re stopped I’ll just let them listen to my boyfriend try to read a map for five minutes. I’m sure they’ll take pity on me and let us off,” Ben exclaimed loudly.

Callum stilled for a second, he wasn’t even sure if Ben had noticed what he had said in his rant until he looked up and saw the other man was now very silently chewing at his cheek.

“That just came out,” Ben said quietly. “Slip of the tongue.”

“I know,” Callum replied, unsure what to say, the air filling awkwardly around them. “We’re here now look, the pier’s just down there.”

Ben pulled into a space and shut off the engine. He was still and silent for a moment and Callum could tell that his comment was torturing him a little.

“It’s quiet, ain’t it?” Callum said, wanting to get Ben out of his head quickly.

“It’s a dark, wet night in November, Callum,” Ben said bruskly, motioning to get out of the car. “People aren’t really going to be flocking down to the beach with their bucket and spades.

The collected the boxes from the car and headed off down the pier. There were very few lights on, only a few street lamps and all the businesses had shut for the day or for the winter. “You’re sure we don’t need a permit for this?” Ben asked, his steps tapping lightly on the wooden slats of the pier.

“I don’t think so,” Callum said, keeping pace with him. “You don’t need one for scattering at sea, and it’s right there ain’t it? Anyway, since when did you care about permits?”

“I just want to know what I need to plead guilty to in front of the judge,” he responded with a smirk. Callum was happy that he seemed to have jolted back to his normal self.

They reached the end of the pier, the railings there barely protecting them from the rough, hungry waves. The rain was starting to get heavier and there was a howl to the wind. “I don’t suppose we can just chuck the boxes over the side and make a run for it?” Ben asked, running a hand through his ever-dampening hair.

“I said I’d help her,” Callum whispered quietly. He was unsure if Ben heard him over the weather, but he seemed to be able to read his face, so he sat down and leaned against the barrier, hanging his legs over the side of the pier.

Callum followed his example, his legs hanging heavily in the air over the choppy water. “Should we say something?” he asked, turning towards Ben, who was already removing the lid from the box.

“You think I know any prayers?” Ben scoffed, rolling his eyes. “What about you? You were certainly muttering a few holy words in my ear that night at the park.”

“I was thinking more like a eulogy,” Callum replied, ignoring the comment. “Say a few words and that.”

Ben widened his eyes. “You want me to do it?” he enquired, surprise evident in his tone. “I’ve only met them in dust form!”

“You’re better than words than I am,” Callum replied softly. “I’ll only mess it up.”

Ben put down the lid to the box and shuffled closer so their legs were touching. He reached out and grabbed Callum’s hand, turning to face him. “You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself, Callum. It’s just going to keep eating away at you. You need to be happy with who you are. You need to see what I see.”

Ben moved forward so their foreheads were touching. Their hands were still gripped together, though the relentless rain was making them slippery. Callum could feel the drops fall from his sopping hair onto both him and Ben. He closed his eyes and could feel Ben’s nose gently nudging his. The air all around them was numbingly cold, but he could feel Ben’s warm breath on his lips. Only an inch further and they would be touching.

A heavy rustle broke their focus, and he opened his eyes just in time to see the box lid flutter away, being dragged by the wind. “Well, I’m certainly not running after that, so there’s no going back now,” Ben said, shuffling back a little and grabbing the lid-less box. “Come on then, it’s just me, Dick and Mary here and we all like you, despite your poor navigation skills.”

Callum took a deep breath. “Um, Richard and Mary Goodwin. I know I didn’t know you well, but I know you had pain and loss in your life. I know you found each other and fixed each other. I know you loved.”

Looking over at Ben, he could see him smile gently back at him, his eyes soft and warm. They both carefully took the bags from the boxes, held them over the barrier and started scattering. “I think we can be thankful for a northerly wind. The other way and we would have had Dick fly down our throats.”

Callum gave him a shove, not able to hold back his laugh. “That’s the last time, I swear!” Ben replied, straightening up and chuckling along with Callum who was still giggling. “That’s better. You’re beautiful when you laugh.”

“Oh fuck,” Callum said suddenly, remembering something he wanted to do. He started to search in his pockets.

“Well that’s lovely language for the occasion!” Ben commented. Callum looked at his phone with frustration, waving it around a little. He put it back in his pocket and then started to pull at Ben’s leather jacket, putting his hand in and feeling for his inside pocket. “Give me your phone,” he commanded, after a few moments when he couldn’t find it.

Ben was still smirking as he reached into his back jeans pocket and pulled out his mobile. Callum grabbed it quickly, then reached for Ben’s hand, pressing his finger down roughly to unlock it. “You’re so hot when you’re like this,” he chuckled, biting down on his lip. “Makes me want to screw you right here.”

“That’s lovely language for the occasion,” Callum parroted back, scrolling though Ben’s phone. He sighed loudly. “I can’t find the right song. It was the one playing at Mr Goodwin’s funeral”

Ben grabbed his phone back, sitting on his haunches. “What are you looking for? If you tell me it’s ‘Sex on Fire,’ my level of respect for Dick will rise even further.”

“It’s Ella Fitzgerald,” Callum said, looking over his shoulder. “I can’t remember the name though. There! That one! Dream a Little Dream of Me!”

Ben turned up the volume on his phone, turned the empty ashes box upside down and placed it on top. The song started to ring out loudly, as the wind and rain died down a little. They both finished scattering the ashes into the water, watching them sink down and travel on into the depths together, merging as one. Ben shuffled back slightly and lay down on the pier and closed his eyes. Callum gazed curiously at him until he realised that Ben had lifted his arm up. Recognising the gesture, he laid down on his back with his head on Ben’s chest. He closed his eyes as he felt the arm close around his chest with a hand covering his heart.

They lay there for the few minutes as the song played. The sweet melancholic voice ringing out into the night, the poignant lyrics saying a fond goodbye. Callum still recognised the raindrops beating down on them, but it had become part of the atmosphere now. “Do you think they listened to this song here?” Callum whispered softly, moving his hand to cover Ben’s where it lay on his chest.

“Maybe,” Ben mused, linking their fingers together. “An important place and an important song. We just don’t know why they were so special. That stays between them.”

Silence filled the air; the song had finished. Ben patted Callum on the chest, moving to sit up. They both looked at each other with amusement; they were soaked though. “We should get going,” he said softly.

“One more thing,” Ben replied, as he reached into his pocket, pulling out his keys. He shuffled to the edge of the pier and started scraping into the wood there. Callum looked curiously over his shoulder, until he could see what had been written; ‘Richard and Mary’.

“What’s with you and carving names into everything?” Callum asked with a chuckle, as Ben continued to grate at the wood.

“How else will people remember they were here? They shouldn’t be forgotten,” Ben replied, vigorously carving.

Callum thought for a second back to the bathroom at the Vic. “How come they get their full names and not just their initials?” he enquired.

“They weren’t scared,” Ben said, finishing up his second line of writing. “They didn’t hide and they didn’t change.” Underneath their names it read ‘They loved here’.

Callum looked Ben in the eye and then grabbed his keys to quickly scrape a third line right underneath the other two, knowing that a set of eyes were watching him curiously.

“Ben and Callum,” he whispered, tracing the letters when he was done.

Ben looked at him with his head cocked, as if trying to figure something out. “Right, come on then,” he said jumping up and shaking the excess water off. “If you’re lucky, I may even stretch to buying you a bag of chips.”

------------------

“It says vacancies,” he said, pointing to the window.

“I can see the sign, Callum,” Ben replied, exasperatedly. “It’s hardly peak season, of course there’s going to be room. My problem is that it makes Bates Motel look like the Ritz.”

When they had left the pier, they had run along the promenade as the rain picked up again, pelting down on them. Callum slowed down as they approached the car, but Ben had simply doubled back and grabbed his hand. They sprinted down the street holding on to each other, trying not to slip.

Ben pulled him into a lit Fish and Chip shop and they doubled over laughing and gasping for breath. The owner of the chippy looked at them strangely, seemingly concerned about the puddle they were creating on her floor. The ordered a bag of chips between them, slathered them in salt and vinegar and sat on the floor eating them as the server brought out a ‘wet floor’ sign to place in front of them.

Callum licked his fingers, blushing slightly when he realised Ben was watching him with intent eyes. “On the count of three,” Ben whispered, his eyes moving towards the server behind the counter.

“What?” Callum questioned curiously. He felt like he was missing something.

“One…Two,” Ben started, and Callum could see a grin start to form on his face that he recognised meant trouble. “Three!”

On his last count, Ben jumped up pulling Callum with him with one hand and grabbing the sign with the other, charging out with such speed that they barely kept their balance. They careened down the road, Ben shrieking and hollering and Callum gasping with laughter.

They had decided to stay the night in Hastings, Ben making a comment that if they tried to go back in the darkness with just the maps, they’d end up in Scotland. They’d now found a little Bed and Breakfast. It was getting late and despite Ben’s reservations, they pushed open the door.

The lobby had animal print wallpaper that was half peeling off and three dead plants that stood in the corner. A wonky bookcase was the only other bit of furniture, and was painted bright pink.

“Kat and Linda haven’t opened an interior design business, have they?” Ben whispered.

There was a sound coming from the reception desk and they could see a middle aged man with his feet up, watching something on a laptop. Callum blushed as he realised what the sounds were, but Ben only smirked further and started striding forward.

“Good evening, we’d like a room for the night please,” he requested as the attendant quickly shut up the lid of his laptop, shifting slightly in his seat.

Callum shuffled forward to stand next to Ben who was waiting expectantly. The man looked them up and down and scowled. “You’re making a mess of my floor,” he grumbled, glaring particularly at Callum, who was sure his suit was ruined for good, the amount of water that was cascading off it.

Without missing a beat, Ben flicked his wrist causing the ‘wet floor’ sign in his hand to clatter open. He then delicately placed it in front of him. “Always best to come prepared,” he said with a dry smile, his eyes willing the man to challenge him again.

The man glared at him right in the eye for a moment, taking in their demeanour and lack of bags. Then he seemed to relent, turning around to grab a key. “Thirty pound for the night,” he grimaced in a repulsed tone. “This is number four, it’s a twin. If I hear anything I don’t like, then you’ll be out on your ears. I’ll keep the sign.”

Callum looked towards Ben. He wanted to just take his arm and guide him out of there. He knew how he could get when he was challenged. He was hot headed and could spin out of control at a moment’s notice.

Ben simply smiled back at the man, chucking some notes on to the counter. “Well, I can’t make any promises, I am a bit of a screamer, but if you turn the porn up loud enough, it’ll probably drown us out,” he said pointing to the screen. “Though it seems you aren’t that averse to a little man on man action. We’ll take a double and the sign comes with us. It’s ours.”

Reaching around, the attendant grabbed another key and threw it towards Ben. “Number 3,” he gruffed in their direction. “Be out by ten in the morning.”

Without losing eye contact with the man, Ben picked up the sign with the hand holding the keys and grabbed Callum’s fingers with the other hand. He roughly pushed the door with the sign, sending it flying against the wall with a bang, glaring back at the attendant with the same ferocity.

“You shouldn’t antagonise people like that,” Callum warned as they headed down the hallway towards the room. “You don’t know what he could do.”

“What, you afraid he’s in the same WhatsApp group as Whitney?” Ben replied with gritted teeth, marching along the hallway.

Callum let go of his hand and stopped walking. A little further ahead, Ben stopped too and he could see his shoulders drop, a little bit of the tension falling out of his body. Callum watched as the other man turned around and leaned against the nearest wall, dropping his chin against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Ben muttered. “It just drives me mad. If you and Whit had walked in together you wouldn’t have had that shit. Why should we have to put up with it?”

Callum shook his head and shrugged. He wished he had an answer for him. He wished he could just say it was a fluke and everything would be ok. He wished.

Ben held out his hand and waggled his fingers, a calmer smile now appearing on his face. Callum smiled back, glad that the mood had passed. He took a few steps and gently linked their fingers together again.

The door groaned loudly as it creaked open. Stepping into the room, Callum could see it wasn’t exactly a five star hotel. It was certainly cramped in the small space, yet it lacked any decorative touches. The large double bed took up most of the room, with just a small bedside table and a dresser with a tv on it making up the rest of the furniture.

Ben put down his sign and entered the bathroom attached to the room. Callum heard a littering of curses and mutterings before the sound of running water filled his ears.

Exiting the bathroom with a smile, Ben stepped over to Callum. “Well, we’ve got water and it’s hot, which considering I’m about five minutes away from hypothermia is definitely a plus.” He removed his leather jacket, placing it on the dresser before reaching up to take Callum’s suit jacket. “We’ll try to hang it up later,” he said frowning at the offending item in his hands, dripping water onto the floor.

Ben reached up and started to undo Callum’s shirt. “I haven’t got anything to change into,” he stated, watching as quick fingers nipped through the buttons.

“Oh no, what ever will we do?” Ben replied smirking happily as he rolled Callum’s shirt off his arms. “If only we had your army uniform.” His eyes twinkled as he leaned forward and placed a brief kiss against Callum’s chest, running his hands upwards and onto his shoulders. He continued to litter kisses there, moving one hand down to Callum’s trousers.

The air had changed now, and Callum felt he didn’t need words anymore. He pulled Ben’s head up leaning their foreheads together as he started to unbutton the other man’s shirt, his fingers trembling slightly and finding the task tricky. He decided to just pull at the buttons, the clothing easily opening and raising a low chuckle from Ben.

Pushing the shirt off his arms into a puddle on the floor, Ben looked up at him expectantly, his eyes dancing lustfully. Before Callum could think twice, he strode forward catching Ben by the lips. The emotion of the day was hitting him, causing him to press closer, relishing in the friction of their chests rubbing softly. He felt Ben’s mouth open, his tongue dancing next to his.

Without warning he felt himself being pushed back, fingers tugging at his trousers. His own hands were busy, brushing clumsily through Ben’s hair, twisting the damp strands. The air around them was steamy as he realised he’d been walked into the bathroom. Ben broke the kiss with two short pecks, before pushing Callum’s remaining clothes down and motioning for him to get into the shower.

The water was warming against his skin, but he realised that he hadn’t felt cold. This whole night, despite being soaked in the rain in November, he’d never once felt a chill come over his body.  He always felt like that was when he was with Ben. He thought perhaps it was the fire in him radiating out, warming Callum’s soul.

Through the steam, Ben entered the shower, now devoid of all his clothes. He looked at Callum for just a second before claiming his lips again. Callum ran his hands down his body as the kiss deepened, the water making it slippery and unable to get a proper grip. Persevering, he grappled more, moving his fingers around Ben’s body pressing into him with force. He felt a secure hand grasp his cock as he nipped down Ben’s neck sucking harshly at the skin there, his ears filling with staggered breaths.

---------

Ben quirked his lips up on one side and Callum gently brushed the hair away from his forehead. After the shower, they had dried off, Ben leaning over to speckle kisses on his cheek every few minutes. Callum thought about how sweet he was and wondered how many people actually knew that. He’d dropped everything on a Friday night to make him happy, driving all the way here. There was a softeness in Ben that perhaps only he was allowed to see. It made him feel special and wanted.

They had both crawled into bed and cuddled under the covers, Ben complaining about the lack of heating in the hotel. Clinging to each other, the continued to kiss, slowly this time, the movement of their hands round their bodies purposeful and languid.

“That thing I said earlier,” Ben started, leaning into Callum’s touch.

“What thing?” Callum asked, tracing his fingers down Ben’s cheek. He leaned forward and gave a kiss there, only barely tickling the skin.

“The thing,” Ben said more forcefully, huffing slightly as he took Callum’s hand and brought it to his mouth.

“Ben, you never shut up, how am I supposed to know what?” Callum answered, slightly distracted as Ben kissed his way down his fingers.

With pursed lips, Ben looked Callum in the eyes, as if willing him to understand. “In the car, when we got lost. That thing.” He repeated, carefully emphasising every word.

“Oh. That thing,” he replied, looking away from his gaze. Callum now understood. He wasn’t sure if Ben would bring up the fact that he’d called him his boyfriend. He didn’t want to push the matter, knowing how the other man could react. “I’m married.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Yes, thank you for that little nugget of information, Callum. I mean, I didn’t frame my embossed invitation to your wedding, but it did give me a big clue.”

“What I meant was, I…I don’t know,” he confessed, his words getting muddled.

“Did you mean what you said?” Ben asked, pressing a comforting hand to his face. “About telling Whitney when she comes back?”

“Yeah, course,” he replied, enjoying the feel of Ben’s thumb stroking his cheek.

“I don’t want to have an affair,” Ben said forcefully. “I don’t want that for you. So, if you’re going to tell her as soon as she gets back, then it’s over with her, right?”

Callum nodded his head, though in the back of his mind he knew the flaws in that argument. He knew Ben recognised them too. It probably wasn’t wise to ignore those voices, but with Ben’s body pressed against his, they just didn’t seem important. “Does that mean I’m your boyfriend then?” he asked, a smile appearing on his face.

Ben’s eyes lit up too. “Yes, you are my boyfriend,” he said, pressing kisses to Callum’s neck. “I will have to suffer the shame of being in a relationship with someone who can’t read street signs.”

Sinking into his pillow, he enjoyed the sensation of Ben kissing his way down his body, pausing to suck on the sensitive skin of his thighs. Something was gnawing on Callum’s brain and he stilled, removing his hand from Ben’s hair.

“What you thinking about?” Ben said, raising his head, his lips reddened and hair whisping in the air.

“Bobby,” Callum responded, sitting up a little.

Ben raised his eyebrows. “Do you usually think about my family during sex? Cause I might now be having second thoughts about being together, if that’s what gets you off,” Ben said with a chuckle as he crawled back up the bed to settle next to Callum.

“Did you wave to him when you left the house? The day of my wedding, did you see him as you left?” he asked, turning on his side to face Ben.

Ben glanced to the side, looking like he was thinking back to that day. “No,” he replied with a shake of his head. “I didn’t see him that morning at all.”

“Did you leave your phone at home that day?” Callum asked. He felt like he was trying to put pieces of a puzzle together without seeing the picture on the box.

“Nah,” Ben replied. “I took it with me, I must have dropped it when I got the knock on the head though cause I didn’t have it with me when I woke up.”

“You found it at home though, yeah?” Callum asked, trying to make sense of it all.

“Have you been boxsetting Miss Marple repeats, Cal?” Ben asked with a smile. “You don’t think Bobby had something to do with it do you?”

“I don’t know,” Callum replied. “Something just wasn’t right about that day. I could have sworn I saw Bobby at the park that morning.”

Ben smiled at him and brushed his hair to one side. “I’ll keep my eyes peeled for any lead piping in the library, if it’ll put your mind at ease. You worry too much. Let me take that away,” he whispered softly as he slid down Callum’s body.

As he lay his head back, Callum knew he should keep questioning these niggling thoughts; something was telling him it wasn’t over. But when Ben took him in his mouth, everything else left his mind.

Chapter Text

“So, Big Nigel is trying to stop the mistress from throwing herself into the grave, the widow’s screaming blue murder while chucking lumps of dirt at her and the daughters are having an argument about the will!”

Jay had just returned from an eventful funeral and was regaling Callum with stories of the service. He sat completing paperwork at the desk, smiling along, while his boss was trying to shake soil out of his shoe.

“Meanwhile, the vicar’s just ploughing on with the reading, cause he’s got a christening in quarter of an hour and needs to get back up to the church! Imagine going to your husband’s funeral and having his bit on the side turn up?” Jay continued, banging his shoe on the side of the desk. “The geezer in the coffin probably had a better day than anyone; he had two on the go and never had to deal with the consequences.”

Callum looked back down at the invoice he was completing, unsure how to address Jay’s comments. He was hardly in a position to criticise the man. What would happen if something happened to him suddenly? Whitney would be consoled and comforted as the grieving widow and take pride of place at his funeral. Callum couldn’t help but wonder if it would stay that way. The truth of him and Ben just buried out of site, the world never knowing. He wouldn’t be remembered for who he was, just who they thought he should be.

Of course, knowing Ben, he would probably rock up to the funeral, half a bottle of whiskey in hand and blurt everything out. No one would believe him though; it would sound preposterous to everyone’s ears. Sweet, kind and devoted Callum having an affair with the loud, brash and manipulative Ben Mitchell. Only Stuart would know it was true, but he wouldn’t say anything. He’d betray Callum’s truth to keep up the image of his little brother that he accepted.

“I swear, I’m going to be picking lumps of dirt out my toenails for the next three weeks,” Jay complained, putting his sock back on. “You’re quiet.”

“Am I?” he responded, though there wasn’t much denial in his voice. Imagining your own funeral probably wasn’t the best level of engagement during a conversation, but his place of work didn’t help. It was hard not to think about your own mortality when you had to deal with other people’s all day.

“You missing Whitney?” Jay guessed, tying his shoelace back up.

“Yeah, just wished she was back,” Callum replied honestly. That was the truth, he did want her to return, but probably not for the reason that Jay was implying. He’d promised Ben he’d tell Whitney the truth when she came back from caring for Bianca. The wait kept plaguing on his mind, knowing it was going to happen, but not being able to do it yet. It was eating him up, this mixture of nerves, worry and a dash of excitement. That’s not to say he was looking forward to hurting her; he just knew that it was inevitable. He also knew that she would recover and could get on with her life.

From her daily phone calls, he knew that Bianca was on the mend. She was still in hospital, but she was awake and her injuries were healing well. Whitney was going to stay on a few weeks longer than she had planned to, maybe even over Christmas, to make sure she could give all the help she could.

With each passing day, the wait became more excruciating. He felt like a caged bird that saw a hand come to open the door. He wasn’t out yet, the restriction that limited his wingspan and the risk of making his escape causing him to flitter and flutter anxiously. The hope was there though, that one day the cage would be opened and the world would be his to glide through happily. He clung on to that.

“You need to enjoy a bit of your bachelor lifestyle, mate,” Jay laughed. “Lounging on the sofa playing video games without anyone making you stop to do the washing up! Watching the footie instead of having to sit through some awful reality show; it won’t last forever!”

He couldn’t let Jay know that he had been enjoying it. He’d been in his flat most nights; he just wasn’t always alone. On Monday, Ben had come over. Callum had answered the door to see him leaning against the frame with a six pack in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. Ben walked into the flat, not even breaking his stride to lean up and kiss Callum on the lips, before strolling to the kitchen and placing the food and drink down.

“This is becoming a habit by the way,” Ben said, smirking as he popped out two cans and put the rest in the fridge. “I’ve bought you dinner again. I’m starting to think you’re just with me for my money.”

“It’s a bag of chips and your brother owns the shop,” Callum replied with a smile. Moving to the kitchen he gave Ben a kiss on the forehead while reaching to the cupboard for the plates. “I doubt you even paid for them. I think we’re a long way from repaying me for the van, aren’t we?

“I pay you in other ways,” Ben said, giving a waggle of his eyebrows as he opened a beer and passed it to Callum.

“I’m not accepting that as payment!” he replied, taking a swig of his drink.

“I’ll make it up to you somehow,” Ben muttered quietly, emptying the chips out on the plate.

“I know,” Callum responded softly, picking at the ring pull of his can. He didn’t mean it really; he didn’t care about the van at all. That moment came at a time where the whole world seemed like it was spiralling. The money, the police and all the trouble it had caused seemed like a long distant memory. It had brought him and Ben together and that’s what counted. He was only teasing when he brought it up and he didn’t want to make Ben feel guilty about it.

“Besides, you did buy it for Whitney and I suspect that in the near future we’ll be grateful she doesn’t have something she can run us over with,” Ben said, rolling up the chip paper into a ball. He squinted into the distance and raised his hand, throwing the paper at the waste bin in the lounge. He raised his hands in triumph, grinning gleefully from ear to ear, when it bounced in.

“Easy shot,” Callum remarked, putting his drink on the counter and stealing a chip from the plate.

“Oh, we’ve got a heckler from the crowd,” Ben announced dramatically. He rolled up another piece of paper and handed it to Callum. “C’mon then, sunshine. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

An hour later, they were staggering around laughing, the floor now littered with various pieces of scrap paper. Four cans now lay scattered on the counter and the empty plate was leaning against the side of the sink.

“That paper was definitely larger than the one I had,” Ben shouted, trying to pull it from Callum’s hands. “That was not a fair shot!”

“I think it was more than fair considering you pinched my bum when I was about to throw,” Callum said, gripping hold of his paper protectively. “That was definitely sabotage.”

“You’re way more competitive than I am!” Ben complained. “For your information, I grabbed your arse because I like it. It was pure coincidence that you were taking your shot at the time.”

As if to prove his point, Ben put his arms around Callum’s waist and slid his hands over his back jean pockets, giving a long, firm squeeze.

Callum leant down and gently kissed Ben, the hoppy taste of the ale mixing with the sting of salt and vinegar; he found it moorish and addictive. He deepened the kiss and he could feel Ben try and move his body even closer. “We’ll call it a draw shall we,” Ben said, his voice low. The game had been abandoned.

Last night, Ben had joined him again. There was a match on TV that Callum really wanted to see, and while not overjoyed at the prospect, Ben happily lay on the couch with his head resting in his lap. He had a trying day, by all accounts.

“Fifteen minutes we spent talking about a job Keanu did on a Range Rover,” Ben complained. It had been a big family lunch at the Mitchell’s, something Callum knew always caused Ben some stress. “He’s not even that great a mechanic; I’m much better with my hands.”

He rubbed Callum’s thigh gently then, as if trying to prove something. “I know,” he whispered back gently, stroking Ben’s hair. As far as he was concerned, Ben didn’t have to provide evidence of this. He knew he was much better than any of his family. He just wished Ben believed the same thing.

“It’s not like I could even have a drink,” he continued with a sigh. “What with half the table being kids, Dad being tee-total and Louise and Sharon about to drop the sprogs, alcohol definitely wasn’t present. If it weren’t for Lexi, I’d have got up and walked. There’s only so long I could sit there and listen to how long Sharon basted the beef, while my Dad coos over the expectant couple like they’re Mary and Joseph. I wish you’d been there.”

“I know,” Callum repeated, quietly. He knew that Ben just wanted someone to listen to him that understood how hard it was being the black sheep in the family. They both knew that feeling. They carried on watching the game, staying in the same place, Callum lazily moving his fingers through Ben’s hair and softly caressing his face. He’d thought Ben had dozed off to sleep until he spoke again.

“Which one d’ya think’s hotter from the team that’s winning; number nine or number five?” he asked in a drowsy voice.

“I’m not sure,” Callum replied, stroking the soft hair on the nape of Ben’s neck. “I’m just enjoying the game.”

Ben turned his head round to frown up at him then. “Callum, there’s no one else around. You’re not in a packed pub filled with brainless thugs. You can like the match and appreciate the goalkeeper’s thighs.”

“I like you,” Callum said with a shrug.

Ben gave a small chuckle. “Well as sweet as that is, I really don’t mind you thinking someone else is attractive,” he replied with amusement, reaching up to give Callum’s cheek a stroke. “I’m really not paranoid that you’re gonna run off with the England centre half. Not after you tell them that you’ve got a wife and a boyfriend already.”

Callum was quiet then and Ben soon gave up, turning his head to face the television again. There was a tang of guilt in Callum’s body. He didn’t want Ben to feel like he couldn’t be open or that he was keeping his feelings from him. This was all so new to him. He’d only ever been with Whitney, and he had so many layers of secrets built up, he knew their relationship was just a shadow of one. He didn’t want that to be the case between him and Ben. “If I had to…” Callum started.

Ben quickly swung his head back around with a large grin. “I mean, I doubt anyone would need to hold a gun to your head, but sure.”

“If I had to, then number ten for the team in white,” Callum said nodding to the tv, watching as Ben sat up quickly, squinting his eyes at the tv. “He’s got the best body out of all of them.”

“Really?” the younger man replied.  Callum watched as Ben studied the screen intently, chewing his thumb on one hand in concentration. His other hand continued to settle on Callum’s thigh. “I can’t see him,” Ben replied with a sigh and a disappointed tone.

“He was the one that got a red card about twenty minutes ago,” Callum said, getting an eye roll from Ben. He knew he probably should have mentioned that first. “Getting a red card means-“

“I know what a red card means!” Ben replied haughtily. Suddenly, his expression changed and he turned to face his whole body towards Callum grinning in delight. “Oh my god! You’ve got such a bad boy kink!”

“What?” Callum said, shaking his head and turning to look back at the screen

“You’re attracted to guys who get into trouble,” he said elbowing Callum, until he got his attention again.

“Oh, shut up,” he said refusing to turn around. “I like you, don’t I?”

“You don’t think I fit in that category? You can’t spit in this town without getting gob on someone who thinks I’m the scum of the earth,” Ben replied. “I’ve been to prison, Callum. It wasn’t exactly cadet camp.”

“So? They don’t know you like I do. You’re not bad, Ben. We’ve both known bad men and that ain’t you,” he answered insistently. “Anyway, Martin’s been to prison and last week you called him ‘a beige carpet in human form’.”

“Only to his face,” Ben commented with a smirk. He put his arms around Callum’s neck and leaned his head on his shoulder. “Hmm, I’m clearly going to have to up my game if I’ve got to compete with number ten. Don’t want you running off with just anyone.”

Callum leaned his head closer to Ben. “I think I’ll just keep you for now.”

They’d fallen asleep soon after that, curled up in each other, the sound of the television merging into the background. Callum woke in the morning stretched out along the couch with his arms around Ben who was spooned in front of him. His face looked so young when he was sleeping, his eyelashes fluttering every now and then to show he was still deep in a dream. He hoped it was a happy one. Callum couldn’t help but enjoy the domesticated feeling, like this was their life together and no one else was involved. He hushed the voice in the back of his head that piped up with a warning.

A loud beeping broke him out of his daydream and he tentatively sat up to reach for his phone. Opening the message, he sighed a little. Big Nigel was off sick and Jay wanted him to look after the undertakers while he attended a high paying funeral. He’d left Ben this morning, sleepy and dishevelled, giving him a kiss and making him promise to lock the door when he left.

Callum hadn’t been able to focus properly all morning, too caught up with thoughts of Ben, but thankfully business had been quiet. Jay had returned around half an hour ago, covered in dirt and vowing to start invoicing for dry cleaning bills.

They carried on working in silence, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. He enjoyed working with Jay; he was a good mate and he knew he would always stick up for him. He was a fair boss and they got on well together. In all honesty, he couldn’t say that being an undertaker was his dream career, but the pay was decent, the hours good and there was a peacefulness to it that he relished.

“Ho! Ho! Hoes! How goes it at the Grim Reapers workshop?”

Callum looked up to see Ben standing in the doorway, looking much more awake than he had left him this morning, with a bright red Santa hat perched merrily on his head.

“It’s the twenty sixth of November, you might want to reign in your Christmas cheer for a few more weeks,” Jay replied irritably. “Especially here, I’m not so sure jolliness is what people go for when they pick us to bury their loved ones. Where’d you get the hat?”

“Mo acquired a job lot of trees a bit earlier than anyone would like or need,” Ben replied, taking off the hat and throwing it towards Jay. “Martin’s trying to flog as many as he can on the stall. Not even December yet; he’s such a rebel!”

Callum was still looking down at the invoice, but he knew Ben was looking towards him then with a smirk. When they were in public, Callum tried as best as possible not to look towards the other man. The feelings there were too strong, he felt that surely everyone around them would notice. They never seemed to though, missing even the clearest of signs.

“Come to take me on a romantic lunch date for two, have you?” Jay asked sarcastically.

“It’ll have to be purely platonic, I’m afraid. I’m a taken man,” Ben replied with a smooth smile.

Jay scoffed, huffing his breath out. “Taken by what? Little green men? An alien lobotomy would explain a large part of your personality, though,” he suggested, getting up and putting on his jacket. “C’mon then, St Nick.”

Ben stilled at the door. “What, you’re not letting Bob Cratchit come?” he asked, nodding towards Callum. “You will let me know if you’re visited by three spirits tonight, won’t you bruv?”

“Please, the only spirits you know are vodka, gin and whiskey, and you get a visit from those on most nights,” Jay answered with a roll of his eyes. “I’m not a slave driver! Someone’s got to stay and look after the place! Unless of course you want to take him out instead of me?”

“And miss out on some quality time with my brother?” Ben replied, opening his mouth in mock shock. “Sorry, Cal, we’ll have to save the threesome for another time.”

Callum chuckled gently to himself as Jay jostled Ben out the door, chastising him and hitting him with the hat. There was a little jealousy there; it was so different to the relationship he had with Stuart. He knew Ben and Jay weren’t real brothers, but the strength of bond was there. They could tell each other anything and forgive more.

Without warning, Ben appeared at the doorway, looking back over his shoulder, “Give me two seconds,” he shouted back to Jay “I’ve just left my phone.”

He thundered into the room, and before he knew it Callum was being pulled to his feet and backed up against the wall. Ben had thrown his hands around his neck and leaned up to kiss him with force, knocking him further into the surface. Callum’s hands gripped Ben’s hips harshly, pulling them into him while their mouths still collided together.

“Are you coming?” Jay called out from the front door.

Ben gave a throaty laugh before releasing Callum’s mouth. He stepped back slightly, running the back of his hand across his mouth, swallowing deeply and then quickly sliding his fingers through his hair to tame it. “To be continued,” Ben whispered, not losing eye contact until he went out the door.

Callum leant his head back against the wall and shut his eyes, his breathing coming out in harsh pants. He wondered if it would always be like this between them. The unpredictability was addictive and thrilling. He never knew from one minute to the next if they would be slowly caressing or frantically rutting. Trying to get the thought out of his head, he sat back down at his desk to complete his work.

A few minutes later, a buzzing came from his mobile that was stacked on some paperwork. He wondered if it was Whitney. As well as daily phone calls, she would often text throughout the day. Picking up his phone, he was surprised to see a message from Ben.

The Grinch has given in. Come over to the Vic x.

Callum smiled, knowing that Ben had maybe guilted Jay into letting him leave the business unmanned. He grabbed his keys from the desk and made sure he locked the door. Stepping outside, he breathed deeply. The air was fresh in his lungs, filling and fuelling them comfortably. The day seemed young and inviting, the feel of it plumping up his cheeks with pink tinges.

As he strolled calmly through the square, he could see Kush and Martin trying to pick up a whole group of christmas trees that had toppled over, Kat and Stacey cackling wildly in the background. He almost bumped into Big Mo, who was marching quickly in the opposite direction, looking behind her cautiously.

Karen was standing outside the launderette, chatting to Honey, her voice carrying merrily on the breeze. There were screams of delight as Billy came down the road, a gaggle of Mitchell children with him, playing and chasing joyfully. Callum let the sun beat on his face, feeling lighter than it ever had before. Eagerly, he pushed open the door of the Vic.

The bar was almost empty, but that wasn’t unusual for a lunchtime on a Wednesday. It did however very quickly draw his attention to Jay and Ben, especially as sitting in a seat at their table was a large Christmas tree with a Santa hat resting on the top.

He approached the table with a smile, hearing Christmas songs ring out in the background. “This looks festive,” Callum commented, taking the empty seat. Ben shuffled up slightly, causing Jay to move closer to the tree.

“Don’t you bloody start,” his boss said, chastising him. “I’ve now got pine needles sticking into my socks from this one forcing me to drag it in here.”

“I didn’t say you had to,” Ben replied brightly. “I just mentioned that if it didn’t come in here it might somehow find its way to your bed.”

“Well, it would have been the only thing finding its way in there, the way I stink,” Jay said sniffing his suit arm and then glaring angrily at the tree. “I’m not exactly sure why I need to share my lunch with this thing here.”

“It’s your work’s Christmas Lunch,” Ben exclaimed, as if it was obvious. “You can’t have that without a few decorations and a bit of music.”

“It’s the twenty sixth of November!” Jay shouted, sneezing when he got too close to the tree. “Linda’s still got a few pumpkins hanging around from Halloween. You don’t even work with us, anyway!”

“Exactly,” Ben replied, holding his hands out to make a point. “That’s why we had to invite Callum. Otherwise it would have just been you. And having only the boss turn up to a work do is just sad.”

“This is just your excuse to get a free meal and a couple of drinks out of us, ain’t it?” Jay replied, trying to bat a branch out of his face.

“I pay for my own meals thank you very much. I’ve even been known to pay for someone else’s if I can get into their pants after,” he replied with a salacious grin.

“It’s all about the romance with you, ain’t it?” Jay replied mockingly. He turned to his employee. “What do you think?”

Callum took in Ben’s delighted face. He looked so beautiful, grinning from ear to ear. “Merry Christmas,” he toasted, raising the pint glass Mick had put in front of him.

Jay gave a long sigh, followed by a cough from inhaling the pine. “Right, well you two can try your luck at ordering me a turkey dinner with trimmings. Best we’re gonna get is some leftover pork pie.” he announced before standing up and heading off to the toilets.

Ben looked over at Callum with a smile, putting his elbow on the table and leaning his head in hand.

“I tried to get some mistletoe as well, but it was just some fake plastic stuff that Martin was trying to flog from last year. Do you like it?” Ben said, gesturing to the faux festive atmosphere he had tried to create.

“This is for me?” Callum replied, a little surprised.

“Course,” he said uncharacteristically bashful, lowering his eyes slightly to the table. “I mean, what with Bianca still on the mend, I figured we probably wouldn’t get to have Christmas together. You’ll probably have to go up there won’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Callum replied. He honestly hadn’t thought about it. That was half the trouble at the moment. He was creating this life with Ben, when his old life hadn’t gone anywhere. He’d tucked it away in a box, hoping it wouldn’t escape too soon. It could all break at any moment, this life he had created, so he was just living for the now. Thinking it through, of course he would be expected to go to Milton Keynes for Christmas. He would be off work so Whitney would assume he would come up for the day. “I’ll be here Christmas Eve,” he replied softly.

“Perfect. That’s the best day anyway,” Ben replied, very briefly touching his hand to Callum’s. “Mick, turn up the music a bit would you,” he called out. “It’s only us here, it’s hardly going to drive away customers.”

Mick sauntered up the bar to where they were. “Is there a reason I’ve got Noddy Holder in my earhole and a giant car air freshener sitting in my pub?

“It’s for Jay,” Ben replied sincerely. “Trying to cheer him up due to his lack of love life.”

“Oi, I heard that!” Jay grumbled, sitting back down. “I’ve just talked Tracey into shoving some chicken and cocktail sausages onto a plate. She’s even agreed to chuck some gravy onto some chips. That’s as Christmassy as we’re going to get though.”

“See, I knew you’d fall into the spirt of the day,” Ben said, leaning over and giving him a hug.

“It’s the twenty sixth of November!” Jay said, pushing him off. “Besides, you’re in no condition to criticise my love life. Just because you have a different guy every night, don’t make you better than me.”

“You don’t know that I’ve seen anyone,” Ben replied proudly. “You said, and I quote, ‘I’d rather have my ears ripped out my head than hear about some randomer who’s had his di-“

“Yes! Alright! I know what I said!” Jay replied quickly. “There’s a bit of a difference between telling me you’re seeing someone and having a detailed recreation while I’m having my cornflakes. Besides, you ain’t been going home a lot of nights.”

“How’d you know that?” Ben questioned. “Oh, let me guess, Lola? It’s like living with two mothers sometimes. Well, three if you count Ian.”

“She’s just mentioned that you been stayin’ out all night and not getting home until morning a lot recently,” Jay replied calmly. “They’re all worried. He’s got to look after himself, ain’t he, Cal.

“Yeah he does,” Callum replied. There was something sweet with how Jay looked out for his brother.

“This is meant to be a celebratory meal, not an intervention.” Ben replied sharply. “I’m perfectly happy with my love life.”

The door rattled open and Kush put his head around. “Here, Jay,” he called out. “Some old lady is lingering around your work in a right state. When will you be back?”

Callum rose to go find out what was wrong, he was supposed to be working after all, when Jay put his hand out in front of him. “No, you stay. I’ve had enough of his waffle for one lunchtime. I’ll be right there, Kush.”

Jay made his way out, leaving the two men alone. There was silence for a minute, before Callum felt Ben’s foot gently rub his ankle. “We’ll do this properly on Christmas Eve,” Ben whispered, his eyes darting to Mick at the bar. “Just you and me.”

“Not including all the different men you have every night then?” Callum teased, playfully swiping Ben with his foot.

“Don’t be stupid,” Ben said, kicking him back. “You know there’s no one else. I don’t need anyone but you. I can barely handle you when you get going” he said in a hushed tone, gently rubbing his thumb across his lips.

 Callum was transfixed on Ben’s mouth and he couldn’t help but think of the kiss from earlier. He moved his gaze up to his eyes and recognised the look there. He wanted him now.

With shaking legs, Callum got up and headed towards the gents, the excitement coursing through him. He swung the door open and paced a little, the seconds feeling like hours. As soon as the door opened again, he grabbed Ben by the arm and walked him fiercely into the wall, the plaster hitting his back with a grunt. He placed their foreheads together, keeping his eyes open so he could see the lust build in Ben’s. They were both breathing heavily now and he could feel hands cling on to him.

Unable to bear the wait any longer, Callum pressed his lips down on Ben, putting his head between his hands to pull him even closer. The kisses were fast and furious, dirty and opened mouthed causing both men to illicit audible moans. Callum couldn’t help but grind his hips into Ben with force and pace.

The layers of clothing were creating a friction, but Callum still felt a barrier to Ben. He wanted to be under his skin so his hands clawed down towards his belt. He stopped to rub Ben through his trousers, the sensation causing Ben to throw his head back with a thud against the wall. Callum undid the belt with speed, feeling more nibble than usual. He quickly pulled down his zip, slipping his hand underneath the restrictive clothing, sliding his fingers up and down the length of Ben.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!”

A foreign voice caused Ben to freeze and Callum to swing his face around to view the speaker. Jay was standing by the door with his head down and his hand covering his eyes. “Right, car lot in five minutes!” he ordered, before disappearing out of the bathroom.

“Oops,” Ben muttered, putting his head back against the wall with a laugh. “I guess we don’t have time to finish up?”

Callum jumped back, adjusting his clothes and running his hands through his hair. “What are we going to do?” he asked Ben nervously, the panic hitting his eyes.

Ben zipped himself back up, then moved to the sink, turning the tap on. He brushed some water on his face, looking at Callum through the mirror’s reflection. “What do you mean?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

“What are we gonna tell him? Should we deny it?” he responded. He’d been dreading this moment for months. He was used to just him and Ben knowing; for someone else to have that information just made it seem more real.

“You had your fingers around my dick, Callum. I’m not sure we can pass it off as a friendly handshake,” Ben retorted, with a roll of the eyes.

“I meant, should we just say it was a spur of the moment thing?” Callum asked tensely, leaning against the wall.

Looking at his reflection, he could see Ben look down and purse his lips. “Well that’s really up to you, isn’t it?” he answered, his tone vacant. He turned around and headed towards the door. “C’mon, better not keep him waiting.”

Callum couldn’t seem to move his feet. The sheer tonnage of the situation deemed to slam down on his body. Would Jay tell Whitney? Would he sack him from his job? He liked his boss, he didn’t want him to disapprove. He felt the bubble that he and Ben had hidden themselves in for the past few weeks had suddenly been burst.

Ben seemed to sense the tension in his face and his whole demeaner changed. He came up to Callum and gripped his hand. “C’mon, it’ll be alright,” he said quirking a smile. “If he kicks off too much, I’ll just chuck that Christmas tree in his bed.”

Callum couldn’t help but force a smile. He held Ben’s hand tight, as if the mere touch would ground his body and mind. Looking into his eyes, he could see them soft and light. It always centred him, made him feel that everything could be alright. It gave him faith.

As they approached the door to the portacabin, Callum took a deep breath to try and relive the pressure at his chest. He was a little confused when Ben knocked loudly on the door. Jay quickly opened it, annoyance clearly on his face.

“Why are you knocking on your own door?” he answered with a scowl.

“Well, it’s just good manners to knock before walking in,” Ben answered sarcastically. “I didn’t want to disturb your privacy.”

Jay started to shake his head and pointed his finger in their direction. “I wasn’t getting wanked off in the middle of a public toilet!” he hissed, trying to keep his voice down. “Would you both get in here?”

Callum gave a little smile to Jay as he walked past him into the cabin, but his friend remained steely faced. Ben dropped down casually onto his couch, resting one arm along the back. “Well, this is cosy.”

Jay ignored the comment to slam the door. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” he asked his brother, waving his arm towards Callum. “Anyone could have walked in!”

“Well that’s half the fun, ain’t it?” Ben replied, winking at Callum. “I must say, you don’t sound surprised.”

He was right, Callum thought. Jay hadn’t seemed to show any reaction apart from annoyance. “Did you know?” he asked quietly.

“Not for certain, but you two aren’t exactly the most subtle people in the world at the best of times!” Jay replied frankly. “I had my doubts but walking in and seeing you grinding into him was a bit of a giveaway, yeah!”

“You’re hurting my feelings, bruv!” Ben replied, dramatically holding his hand to his heart. “I thought we were doing so well.”

“You were worse than him!” Jay replied, pointing towards Callum. “Every time we go to the Vic, you flutter after him into the gents. There’s only so many times you can stick Honey next to me and get her to talk about her new wallpaper choices before I notice you’ve both been gone for twenty minutes. You can’t fool me. You both wanted to get caught.”

Callum closed his eyes for a second. There was perhaps part of him that wanted everything to be out in the open quickly; to be ripped away like a plaster. That really wasn’t the motivation behind his actions in the toilets though. He was so used to having to keep away from Ben in public, that when they were alone he was just drawn to him. It was like being in a hypnotic state, all rhyme and reason seemed to slip from his mind.

“When did this start anyway?” Jay asked, perching on the desk. His mood seemed to have calmed a little.

“You remember that van he bought off me?” Ben reminded him, scratching lazily at the back of his head.

“Since then?” he questioned, shock evident on his face. “You’d barely been back five minutes!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands to his face. He turned towards Callum. “He stole your money and got you nicked and your response was to jump into bed with him?”

“He likes a bad boy,” Ben said smirking. “And it wasn’t quite a bed-“

“Ben, shut up,” Callum replied, waving a dismissive hand at him. He turned towards Jay, willing him to understand. “It wasn’t that easy. I don’t really know how it happened, or even why, but it did. We just got into each other’s heads.”

“So, is this just a thrill thing?” Jay asked, curiously. “You’re just getting your jollies off from sneaking around?”

“No,” Callum replied forcefully. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Ben smiled at him from the couch and folded his arms as if earning a small victory. “Really?” Jay replied slowly. “Cause I could have sworn I attended your wedding to a woman. It’s not genuinely considered acceptable to have a wife and a boyfriend at the same time.”

“I’m telling Whit,” he replied quickly, wanting to make Jay understand that he was serious. “As soon as Bianca’s better. I’m gonna sit her down and tell her.”

Jay turned to Ben. “Anyway, what about you? What you got to say for yourself?”

“Can we go yet?” he responded with a grin. “Cause you sorta caught us in the middle of something.”

“How you thought you could hide this from me, I’ll never know,” Jay said shaking his head at his brother. “You never leave him alone. You’re like a vulture flapping around a rotting carcass. No offence, Callum.”

Callum waved off his objection and couldn’t help feel a little lighter. Someone else knowing and seeing how different Ben was around him gave him a renewed confidence. He knew what Ben told him and showed him how he felt, but hearing it from a third party just made everything seem that little bit more tangible.

 “You’re never interested in anyone that much apart from yourself. You turned up at the undertakers so often, Big Nigel thinks you’re into necrophillia.”

“I was visiting my man!” Ben replied proudly. “Big Nigel thinks one of the stiffs is gonna become a zombie one day; he wouldn’t have the sense to notice us. No one else but you did.”

“Yet,” Jay said warningly. “But it’s only a matter of time before Lola, Ian and Kathy start to notice that when you’re staying out all night, you’re coming home smelling of soap and wearing a healthy glow, rather than stinking of whiskey and vomit. You’re practically a poster boy for healthy living recently.”

“It won’t be much longer,” Callum said, Jay’s words of caution punching him in the gut. He was right. They could be caught out at any time, or they would just have to keep going on in silence. Callum would have to continue hiding, looking around every corner, letting the voices in his head wriggle and fester, screeching at him about his lack of worth. He felt the lump in his throat form and a sting to his eyes. “I can’t live like this. It’s killing me.”

He knew his voice broke a little when he made the comment, his honesty stilling any lightness that was in the room. “Ben, sod off outside for minute.” Jay ordered forcefully.

For once, Ben did what he was told the first time, clambering off the sofa. He walked over to Callum, brought his hand to his face and leaned up to give a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll wait for you,” he whispered tenderly, stroking Callum’s cheek with his thumb.

When the door shut, Callum let out a short sob and leaned back against the wall. He realised that he’d been burying this fear further and further down the last few weeks and ignoring it. Being with Ben made it easy to forget it was there; he managed to quieten the voices, but not slay them. They still tried to creep their ugly heads out, whispering their words of failure and disappointment in his ear.

“So, what about Whitney?” Jay asked. His tone had noticeably softened. “Do you love her?”

“Yeah,” Callum replied nodding his head. He never wanted to hurt her; she was the sweetest girl he’d ever known. “I care about her so much.”

“But do you love her?” he repeated. Callum recognised that Jay was trying to understand. “I mean are you bi or-“

“I’m gay,” he responded, the words flying free from his mouth before he had even realised they had escaped. He felt warm tears throw themselves from his eyes. That was the first time he said it out loud. He hadn’t even said it to Ben.

He looked up at Jay to see his reactions “Well you don’t do things by half, do you?” he said with a dry laugh. “I’m proud of you mate, I am, but you’ve got to tell Whit mate, as soon as possible.”

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” Callum asked hopefully.

“Of course not, no, of course I wouldn’t. You’re my mate,” Jay replied comfortingly. “But Callum. Ben’s my brother.”

Callum recognised his change of voice on his last words. It was a warning against him. He may be Jay’s friend, but Ben was his family.

“Ben will give it ‘the big I am’, but he’s vulnerable underneath all that patter,” Jay replied. “I like you a lot, but if you hurt him you’ll have me to deal with.”

Callum nodded. “I wouldn’t, Jay. I won’t.” he vowed. “I get him, I do.”

Jay smiled. “Right little pair, ain’t cha?” he said shaking his head in disbelief. “No one will get this, why the two of you are together, you know that? It’ll make absolutely no sense to them.”

“I get it and so does he. That’s all that matters,” Callum answered. He knew that the truth was going to raise more than a few eyebrows; there would be harsh words and cold comments.

“You ain’t so different in some ways.” Jay replied, looking like he was thinking it through. “Yeah, I get it, if that helps at all.”

“It does,” Callum responded sincerely. To just have one person understand and not look at him and them like they were crazy would surely be something he would need.

“Right, well now I’ve done my big brother speech,” he said clapping Callum on the shoulder. “Just please try to not get it on in the gents. Someone’s going to catch you eventually. I mean, literally anyone could have come in and caught you today. You didn’t even notice I was there, what if someone had come in and wandered out? They could have told anyone. Well, perhaps if Big Mo had come in to clean the carsey you’d have got away with it. She’d have probably just shoved you out the way with a bottle of bleach.”

“Cheers, Jay,” Callum replied, with a genuine smile. “It was good having someone to talk to. Someone else, I mean,” he said, gesturing towards Ben outside.

“Well, if you get fed up of sarky bollocks out there giving you back chat, you can always come and talk to me,” he replied. “Go on, take the rest of the day off. I can’t stand an afternoon of listening to him tell passive aggressive knock, knock jokes.”

“Really?” Callum asked, lighting up. “Thanks, mate. I’ll come in early tomorrow to polish the hearses.”

“No problem, mate,” Jay said shaking his head with resignation. “Though, you just tell him if I find one tiny needle of that bloody tree anywhere near my bed, I’ll bribe Lexie to sing him Christmas carols at five am every morning for the next six months,” he replied insistently.

Callum smiled and nodded as he headed towards the door to find Ben. He knew he couldn’t keep sliding his problems under the surface and pretending they weren’t happening, but for now at least he could enjoy their time together. It was only one month until Christmas. He could tell Whitney after that. One month until they could be together, and he could finally be himself.

Chapter Text

“Will you just go please, before he comes over here and starts repeatedly singing the Twelve Days of Christmas?”

Callum smiled and finished tidying the desk, making sure every bit of paperwork was carefully put away. As it was Christmas Eve, Jay gave him permission to leave at lunchtime. He wanted to make sure everything was organised before he left though, so his boss didn’t have to stay late either.

“He’s just bloody text me again,” Jay complained, scowling at his phone. “He’s photoshopped my head onto a picture of the Grinch, this time!”

Callum had been receiving messages all morning too. Ben had been trying to convince Jay to let Callum have the whole day off, without much success. He knew why he was doing it; Callum was going to drive up to Milton Keynes that evening and he’d promised to spend the rest of Christmas Eve with Ben. For every minute he spent here, it would be one less moment together.

The last month had been some of the happiest times of Callum’s life. Though they couldn’t spend every night together, the anticipation on the evenings he knew Ben would be coming over was a dizzy high that always made him pace the floor while waiting for the knock at the door. He kept popping into the bathroom to adjust his hair or repeatedly checking his phone for messages.  Part of him knew that this feeling wouldn’t last; that one day seeing Ben wouldn’t make his heart skip so, but for now he relished in it. He couldn’t believe he had lived so long without being alive.

Since Jay had found out about them, it had settled his conscience a little. At least at work, he could relax, knowing that he could talk about Ben without it seeming suspicious or he could look at him without anyone think it was strange. The funeral parlour was like living in an alternate reality, where he could do and say all the things he couldn’t on the rest of the square.

Ben had sauntered in bright and early that morning. “Well he’s made his list and checked it twice. I think we know what side I fall down on, but I’ve come to collect the nicer half.”

“It’s twenty to nine, Ben. We’ve only been at work for ten minutes,” Jay explained with a huff. “We’ve got Mrs Charles being brought in soon. He’s not going anywhere.”

Ben let out a long, dramatic exhale and started to walk over to where Callum was sitting, bending down to give him a long kiss.

‘Uh, excuse me, what’s rule number two?” Jay interrupted, slamming his pen down on the desk.

“Right, rule number one of Undertaker’s Club is don’t talk about Undertaker’s Club, as generally it creeps people out. Rule number two…is that the one where we have to ignore the fact you give the bodies nicknames?” Ben replied with a grin, perching on the desk with his arm around Callum’s shoulders.

“Did you tell him that?” Jay asked with wide eyes, looking at Callum accusingly.

Callum held his hands up in surrender. “It might have slipped out,” he confessed.

“It did slip out…and then he told me,” Ben added, jumping up preemptively to avoid the swipe of Callum’s hand.

“Rule number one,” Jay started, clearly not willing to get involved. “No mentioning your sex life during work; he’s my brother, you’re my friend and employee. It’s just weird”

“I’ve stuck to that one,” Callum said, raising his hand and smirking at Ben.

“Alright, teacher’s pet,” Ben replied, shoving Callum gently on the shoulder.

“Rule number two,” Jay carried on. “No public displays of affection in the office. I don’t want to have to watch you two going at it, while I’m on the phone with a grieving widow. You want to do that, then you go elsewhere on your own time.”

“Where? There’s here or upstairs,” Ben commented. “You know we can’t go anywhere else yet.”

“Well you can, you just choose not to!” Jay cried, clearly a little exasperated. “Sorry, Callum, but you could have told Whit at any point.”

“What was he supposed to do, pop up to Milton Keynes and try and shout it over the sound of Bianca’s ventilator? ‘Oh, sorry about your mum, Whit, just stopping by to let you know I’ve shacked up with Ben now. I brought you some grapes and a couple of magazines though to help you through this tough time.” Ben replied with sarcasm, back to his brother. Callum couldn’t help but feel proud. He knew that Ben ultimately did disagree with how he hadn’t told Whitney yet, but the fact that he was defending him out loud meant a lot.

“I just couldn’t cause her anymore pain, Jay,” Callum explained. “Not knowing if Bianca would pull through or not. I’m going up later and telling her on Boxing Day. That way she’ll have all her family around her. I know it’ll hurt, but Bianca’s almost better now, so she don’t have that to worry about that anymore at least.

“Well, if Bianca’s on the mend, you better get out of that house pretty sharpish or it really will be Boxing Day for you,” Jay said with a sigh. Callum could tell his temporary annoyance had disappeared. “Alright! I understand, but we’ve still got work to do today and I’m not having him singing ‘Here it is Merry Christmas, everybody’s having fun,’ when I’m showing Mr Charles coffin options. So, hop it, out you go.”

Ben held his arms up in defeat. “Come over when Ebeneezer finally frees you from your shackles, Cal, alright?” He then quickly dashed across the room to Jay’s desk, bending down to give him a long kiss on the cheek. “Breaking rule number two Jay, not a good example for your employees,” he called out, laughing and running away quickly as Jay threw paper clips at him.

Callum went to help his boss retrieve the littered stationary. Jay kept shaking his head in disbelief, then took a deep breath and sat down on the floor, his arms resting on his knees in front of him. He motioned for Callum to do the same. “I know you don’t want to worry him, but you can tell me you know. It’s not going to be as easy as just sitting Whit down.”

Nodding in agreement, Callum knew Jay was right. He’d tried to make it sound so easy to Ben. That he’d tell Whitney and then just come back and everything would be alright. The prospect of the situation had kept him awake the last few nights though. He’d spent most of the time in the bathroom, nausea weaving over him, resting his head against the coolness of the bathtub.

“I know,” Callum said, pulling apart a paperclip in his hands.  “I can picture the words coming out of my mouth, but when I’ve practised saying them, nothing happens.” He’d been trying it out the last few days. He’d rehearsed it in his head and even written it down, but then he tried to repeat it out loud and it just wasn’t coming out of his mouth properly, even when reading the words.

“You married her, mate,” Jay reminded him. “It’s not like you’re dumping her at the school disco; she vowed to spend the rest of her life with you.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” Callum replied, honestly. “I just thought if I could be with the best girl I could find, have our own place to live and a good job to provide for her, then I’d be happy. I mean, that’s what everyone wants, ain’t it?”

“It may be what some people want,” Jay started with a shrug. “But clearly not you. It’s alright to be different mate. You can’t feel guilty about it. You’ve just got to be honest with her as quickly as possible though. I wouldn’t wait until Boxing Day. Do it tonight, as soon as you get there.”

Callum had considered that. The thought of trying to spend the day tomorrow celebrating with Whitney’s family, knowing that he was going to break her heart the day after, just felt cruel. However, the family had been through so much and deserved to have a lovely day without him spoiling it.

“She’s going to be devastated, Jay,” Callum admitted. “I care about her. I don’t want to see her like that.”

“It’s gonna happen at some point though, mate,” he said. “You had to know that. It’s either gonna be her or Ben whose heart you break.”

“I know,” Callum replied. Even if it was a fair fight, he wouldn’t be able to break Ben’s heart. “But in a few days, it’ll be over and we can all get on with our lives.” By the look of Jay’s face, he wasn’t sure he had convinced him. In truth, her wasn’t sure it would be so easy himself.

They both turned their heads as they heard the door open in the background. “That’ll be Mrs Charles. C’mon then, Casanova, let’s get back to work.”

The rest of the morning had passed quickly as they tried their best to fulfil the client’s final wishes. Now, Callum had tidied and ensured he’d left everything in the right place. “Merry Christmas, Jay,” he said, pulling on his jacket.

“Happy Christmas, mate,” Jay replied cheerfully. “Make sure you leave him in a good mood, eh? I don’t fancy looking at his forlorn face over my Brussel sprouts tomorrow.”

Callum blushed pink a little and widened his eyes. Jay suddenly realised the implication of his words. “No, I didn’t mean you’d have to do that! Although, knowing you two…I meant just have a good afternoon! Jesus, why do I end up more involved in your sex life than my own?!”

Callum chuckled at his boss, waving goodbye as he headed out the door. He got a few steps down the road, when he remembered he had to grab something back at the flat. He didn’t want to leave Ben waiting, but he couldn’t go without it. Turning around quickly, he stilled when he saw Stuart waiting outside his door.

In all honesty, he had been avoiding his brother for the last couple of months. Stuart had been caught up in the Branning drama with Rainie, so his attention seemed to be away from Callum recently. They still saw each other around the square, but it was casual and comfortable. Stuart seemed to be content that Callum was happily married and that Ben was in his past.

“You alright, little brother?” Stuart called, happily. “Haven’t seen you too much recently so I thought we could have a Christmas drink together.”

Callum checked his watch. It was still early, but he didn’t want to keep Ben waiting. If he didn’t agree though, Stuart would want to know why and he wasn’t sure he could convince him of a lie if he saw Callum heading to Ben’s house.

“Maybe just a quick half, eh?” he replied, as his brother grinned eagerly. They decided to head towards The Vic. On entering, Mick gave them both a cautious look. Callum’s hopes were raised a little. Perhaps they wouldn’t be allowed to stay and then he could make his way towards the Beale’s with a clear conscience.

Stuart didn’t seem to show any reluctance though and went to take a seat while Callum went to the bar. “As it’s Christmas,” Mick said grudgingly, pulling down a couple of glasses. “A quick drink with no bother, yeah Halfway?

“Course,” he said, nodding towards Mick. As the beer was being poured, Callum carefully checked over his shoulder to see if his brother was looking. When he saw Stuart’s attention was elsewhere, he got his phone out. He quickly tapped out a message to Ben saying he’d only be ten minutes. Before he could put his mobile back in his pocket, it vibrated loudly.

Any longer and I’ll start without you x

Callum huffed a laugh and then tucked his phone in his pocket. “Cheers, Mick,” he said, nodding gratefully towards the landlord as he picked up the two glasses. Stuart gave him another smile as he reached the table and put the pints down.

“Why the hurry?” he asked, as Callum checked his watch again. “You need to get back to work?”

Callum shook his head; he knew he couldn’t pass that off as a lie in case Stuart dropped into the parlour. “I’m going up to Milton Keynes later, to spend Christmas with Whit. Need to get ready and go before it gets too busy.”

“That’s great,” Stuart said, with a genuine smile. “You must be missing her.”

“Yeah, course,” he replied. It wasn’t technically a lie. Whitney was great, he loved having her in his life and he genuinely wanted to keep her in it. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing her.”

Stuart leaned in then. “So, everything’s been ok between you two,” he asked, a clear implication in his voice. “No distractions?”

Callum knew he was asking about Ben. This could be the time that he admitted everything to his brother. He could just blurt out that he was finishing with Whitney; that he was with Ben and they were great together. With just a few simple words, he could explain that he was the happiest he had ever been and he just wanted his brother to accept it and be glad for him, because he wasn’t going to change his mind, even if that were a possibility.

He’d trusted his brother before though, during Pride, he’d told Stuart about Ben, hoping he’d understand. Perhaps it was his own fault for holding back on the whole truth, but Stuart had misconstrued everything he had said. His brother had blamed Ben for leading him astray, as he couldn’t deal with the fact that the feelings Callum had were all his own and burst through even though he’d tried to stop them.

He couldn’t risk telling Stuart now. His brother was too unpredictable, he wasn’t sure what would happen. Especially as he’d be leaving Ben alone for a few days, he wanted to make sure he was in one piece by the time he got back.

Nah,” Callum said, shaking off any accusation. “It’s just been hard with Whit away taking care of Bianca.”

“So, you haven’t seen him then,” Stuart said, not even able to mention Bens name. That wasn’t lost on Callum. There was disgust in his brother’s tone, even though he had claimed to be sorry for attacking Ben at pride.

“He’s Jay’s brother,” Callum replied with a sigh. “Of course, I’ve seen him. He’s still my friend.”

“What type of friend is he?” Stuart said, trying to press further.

“A friend!” Callum said, louder than he would have liked, which caused Mick to look over. The landlord cocked his head in question. Callum waved his hand to relieve his fear.

“Alright,” Stuart hissed. “You can’t blame me for asking, can you? Not with what he did to you last time and what he almost made you do.”

“Can we stop talking about this, please?” Callum pleaded, not wanting the conversation to go on any further.

“No, you’re right. Best left in the past, eh?” Stuart relented, sitting back and gulping down his drink. “First Christmas at your in laws. Talk about being outnumbered!”

“I know them a little,” he replied. “From the wedding, and Tiff will be there and all.”

“Course, course,” Stuart said, nodding his head in agreement. “Not the same as your own family though is it?”

Callum stilled a little. He knew what his brother was going to say. There was no possible way he would be able to agree to it though.

“How about I come along with you?” Stuart asked hopefully. “We could phone Whit; I’m sure she wouldn’t say no. I could drive us up now, miss the traffic. I’ll sleep in the car if there’s no room in the house.”

Callum couldn’t say yes. For one, Ben was waiting for him and he had promised him a month ago that they’d spend Christmas Eve together. If he agreed that Stuart could come to Milton Keynes then he would want to leave straight away, stop for a spot of lunch on the way. He wasn’t about to let Ben down.

There was the added consideration of the reason he was going to Bianca’s in the first place; to tell Whitney that he was leaving her. He wasn’t sure he could deal with a tearful wife, a screaming family and an irate brother as well.

“I’m not sure, Stu,” he replied quietly, and he started to see his brother’s face fall. “I think it’s best if I just go. Especially with them having a bit of a bad time recently.”

Stuart’s face clearly showed hurt at the rejection, he recognised that in his brother. Callum took comfort in the fact that he knew he would spend the day at Dot’s. He wouldn’t be alone on the day. “Next year, yeah?” Callum responded, with a smile. He meant it as well, but that ball would be in his brother’s court. As far as he was concerned, he’d be spending next Christmas with Ben. His brother was welcome, but only if he accepted them together.

“Well, I better let you get off then, little brother,” he said standing up and finishing his pint. “I’m gonna help Dot peel some spuds, anyway. Merry Christmas, Callum. I’m happy everything’s worked out.”

Callum felt like the comment was a little cryptic, but he stood up and gave his brother a hug, waving as Stuart disappeared out the pub door. He picked up the pint glasses and put them onto the bar. “Cheers, Mick,” he said gratefully to the barman. “I appreciate that.”

“Everything alright, Halfway?” Mick replied, squinting slightly as if looking for a clue. Callum felt a buzz in his pocket.

“Yeah. It’s all good,” he said with a smile, as he opened his message.

I’m writing a list of all the things you can do to me to make up for being late x

Callum smiled at that, knowing that he still had to pop back and fetch something from the flat. He wanted to get changed as well, not quite feeling comfortable in his work suit.

I’ll be ten more minutes. Promise. I’ll let you pick anything from the list. x

“I’ll see you later, Mick,” he called out, as the landlord raised his hand goodbye. Callum dashed out the pub and headed quickly back to his flat, the time pressure now causing his body to tense up slightly. When he got in and closed the front door, he stopped and rested his hands on the table taking a few deep breaths.

His head was spinning with his change of mood today. At some points he felt so happy and excited at seeing Ben this afternoon, and the fact that in a few days they could be out in the open. At other times, he felt like he was drowning, unable to keep up with the unrelenting waves pouring over his head.  There was a solid pressure on his chest, pushing down making his breathing a fight for every gulp of air he took. His hands tingled constantly, making him want to fidget and continually move, staying still being an extra challenge. His mood would plummet down and all he could see was everything ending in disaster; a big black hole where he was lost forever.

Shaking his head and taking a few short breaths, he stood back up. He didn’t have time for this, he’d just push it down and deal with it later. Ben was waiting and he wasn’t about to let him down. Callum quickly got changed, stopping by the mirror to run his hands through his hair. He grabbed the bag he’d left on the table that morning and set out the door.

The jumble in his stomach was rocking as he picked up his stride. He realised he hadn’t eaten anything yet today. Jay had offered to get him a sticky bun earlier from the caff, but he’d turned him down. The twists and tangles of the feeling in his belly would make it impossible to keep anything in there.

He reached the Beale’s front door and gave a short sharp knock, looking around him slightly to see if anyone was looking. For some reason, he felt eyes on him, like lasers targeting him, but he shook off the fear when he realised that no one was staring.

The door swiftly opened, and he smiled when he saw Ben. This growling monster in Callum never really went away, but when he was with Ben it could be caged. He didn’t really truly understand why or how one person could do that. Perhaps it was because he knew it was there; the other man could tame it, calm it and caress it off to sleep. More than likely though, it was because Ben had his own creature eating away at his insides.

“What are you doing?” Ben asked, annoyance on his face. Callum’s heart almost stopped. It was later than he’d promised he’d be here, and his worry crept in. Perhaps Ben grew tired of waiting and thought he wasn’t worth the effort. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

Ben rolled his eyes and then grabbed his hand, pulling him roughly in the door before kicking it firmly shut with his foot. He continued to take Callum by the hand, dragging him into the living room. He had to be careful not to stumble over a chair by the dining table that was left out of place, but still Ben didn’t relent on his pace. Finally, he opened the back door and pushed Callum out of it, slamming it firmly closed behind him.

Callum stood there for a moment, confused at what was happening. If Ben was that mad at him, surely he would have just slammed the front door in his face. He looked around again, thankful that the back gate was closed, or he would definitely got some strange looks from the market traders. He was sure he could hear Mick’s voice in the distance. Was he just supposed to leave and walk out to all the suspicious faces out there?

“You’re supposed to knock, Callum,” Ben’s muffled voice called through the door with continued annoyance.

He gave the same sharp rap as he had a few moments ago and the door flew open instantaneously. This time Ben stood there was a soft smile and Callum grinned back, relieved that his fears weren’t justified this time. He was a little unnerved though when the other man didn’t seem to step aside. After a moment, he noticed Ben's eyes kept glancing up.

Bending his neck back slightly, he looked at the frame above the door. Tied to a rusty nail was a fresh and healthy piece of mistletoe. Callum smirked at the realisation of why he needed to use this door. He looked back down to see Ben cocking his head to the side and smirking expectantly.

Callum didn’t waste any more time, he stepped forward and met Ben’s lips, letting his eyes flutter shut, so the sensation felt heightened and focused. Ben was kissing him back eagerly, his hand pulling him forward and through the doorway. As he lowered his lips to Ben’s neck, he heard the door shut behind him with a clatter.

“This seems familiar,” Ben chuckled through heavy breaths, as Callum continued to suck and nip at the skin below his jaw. The smell of soap hit his palate as he realised Ben must have had a shower between now and when he saw him this morning. “Let’s go in the other room though so I don’t have another three months of Ian complaining about the door handle.”

Ben loosely linked their fingers and walked leisurely into the lounge. “Where is everyone?” Callum asked. They usually met at his flat, knowing with Whitney away the place would be empty and they would be largely undisturbed. He was a little surprised when Ben was so insistent that he come round to the Beale’s house on Christmas Eve.

“Ian and mum have taken Lexi to some Christmas show in town for the day,” Ben said, leading Callum to the sofa. “Lola’s gone up west to do some last minute present shopping and Bobby is god knows where, but he took his backpack with him and he don’t usually come back for hours once he does his Houdini act.”

Ben gave Callum a quick kiss to the lips then continued with a path across his cheek and under his ear, while his hand was moving to the buttons of his shirt.

“Where does he go though?” Callum asked curiously. It was hard to focus on his question when Ben returned his mouth to his lips and began to kiss him with some force, causing Callum to fall further back on the couch.

Ben leaned back and looked at him accusingly. “First, you’re late and now you’re more interested in my lump of a nephew than where my mouth could possibly go at this moment. When you get back from Milton Keynes, I’m not going to let you out of bed for a week!”

Callum ran his fingers through Ben’s hair affectionately, giving his cheek a kiss and closing the gap between them. “Aren’t you curious though. Especially with what happened on my wedding day?”

Ben leaned into Callum so his head was resting on his shoulder. “Well, yeah, but he’s a right little covert operative,” he replied, stroking his hand up and down Callum’s thigh. “I tried sneaking into his room to have a look about but he caught me and went off on one.”

“He’s not here now,” Callum replied, placing a kiss in Ben’s hair as he continued to softly stroke it. “We could go have a look?”

Ben turned his head sharply around to look up at him with harder eyes. “You really want to spend our Christmas playing Cagney and Lacey in my nephew's bedroom when my mouth could have been around your cock by now?”

“I just worry,” Callum said, stroking Ben's face to calm him down. “It’s probably nothing; you’re right. Some teenage drama.”

“You can’t worry about everyone and everything, Cal,” Ben replied tenderly, resting his head back on Callum’s chest. “There’s only so many things in this world that you can control. I genuinely thought you were going to have a heart attack when an orchard load of apples rolled off Martin’s stall the other day.”

“Someone needed to help him pick them up,” Callum explained. “Especially when Robbie slipped on one and knocked himself out with his broom.”

Ben was clearly trying to stifle a laugh. “Yeah, that day was the gift that kept on giving. Poor old Rob didn’t know what hit him!”

Callum jumped up suddenly. “Gift!” he said looking around, before spotting the bag he’d brought with him strewn on the table. He went to pick it up and brought it back to the sofa, shyly sitting back down next to Ben. He pulled a small box out of the bag first, handing it to Ben.

“This one’s for Lexi,” he offered with a slight hesitation. He wasn’t sure what the procedure was for buying your secret boyfriend’s daughter a present, but he saw it and thought of her, so he just went with it.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Ben replied, with a smile that pleased Callum. He gave the box a little shake. “What is it?”

“None of your business,” Callum replied and pulled Ben’s arm down to stop its movement. “Will you stop shaking it, please?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Clearly, I don’t want to break the fine china vase you’ve bought a seven-year-old,” he replied mockingly. “It ain’t even rattling; so no harm done.”

Ben lent down and tucked it under the large Christmas tree resting in the corner of the Beale’s lounge.  He scanned the rest of the presents there, before picking up a bag with snowflakes on. Excitedly, he came and sat back on the couch and handed Callum the bag, reaching up to put a hand on his cheek and then pressing a kiss to his lips. Ben lent up and pressed their foreheads together. “Happy first Christmas,” he whispered.

As Ben pulled back, Callum could see his eyes were lightly watering, but he tried to hide it by looking down and reached out to lightly scratch the back of his head. “You put this under the tree?” Callum asked curiously, knowing the Beale’s could have spotted it.

Ben rolled his eyes. “Well I didn’t put ‘To My Big, Gay Boyfriend Callum Highway’ on the tag, so I think we’ve dodged the bullet.”

Callum looked eagerly at the bag and saw there were two presents in there. “You stuck to the rules?” he asked.

“You know you’re spending too much time with Jay, don’t you?” Ben replied laughing. “Yes, sir. Absolutely no more than twenty pounds spent and absolutely no vouchers in exchange for sex. Though I think you missed a trick with that one. I would have literally done anything you asked,” he responded seductively, and he reached over and placed a messy kiss to Callum’s chin.

“You’d do whatever I asked anyway,” Callum replied confidently with a grin, as he got out the first present. Ben gave him a wink of confirmation and then got up off the couch, prowling into the kitchen.

He returned a few seconds later with a couple of bags of crisps, throwing one in Callum’s direction. “Eat,” he commanded, leaning over and opening the packet for him.

Callum took a few crisps and tossed them into his mouth, crunching away as he ripped the paper on the first gift. It had been wrapped well and with obvious care.

When he removed the last of the paper, he could see Ben biting down on his lip nervously. Callum pulled out a miniature model of a blue van. “Told you I’d pay you back somehow. Might be a bit tricky to drive though,” Ben suggested grinning. “Do you like it? Look in the back.”

Callum pulled the little door open at the back and a small metal object dropped out. He could see that it was attached to a keyring. Looking at it closely, he saw that there was a photo on either side of it. The first picture was of the carving of their initials that was on the wall of the Queen Victoria men’s toilets. Callum ran his finger over it’ the same way he did to the actual carving whenever he went to the Vic. He’d only been caught doing that once in there and thankfully it was by Jay, who muttered something about being ‘twelve-year-old girls’ before leaving.

On the other side was a picture of the writing they had keyed into the pier in Hastings. “Richard and Mary. They loved here. Ben and Callum.’ Callum looked up at Ben questioningly. He’d didn’t see the other man take a picture of it when they were there.

Ben recognised the confusion on his face. “I had a little day trip down to the coast,” he said, smiling and taking Callum’s hand in his. “Thought I’d pop in and see how our favourite dearly departed couple were doing on their eternal underwater holiday. Dick’s making sure Mary stays wet, so at least she’s happy.”

Callum went to give him a little kick to the shin, but just ended up rubbing Ben’s ankle gently with his foot. He couldn’t believe that Ben had driven all that way just to take a photo for his Christmas present. He put the van and keyring down in his lap and put his arms around Ben’s neck and pressed their noses together in an affectionate rub. “It’s amazing,” he replied quietly. “I love it.”

They stayed that way for at least a minute, they’re eyes talking with words their mouths couldn’t yet form. Ben was the first to pull back, gesturing to the gift bag again. “You’ve still got something to open.”

Pulling out the flat parcel, he immediately started ripping it open. “You know Lexi unwraps presents better than you. Might as well take it to the laundrette and let Karen put in on a spin cycle; it would be more delicate,” Ben said, leaning back and grinning.

“Oh, shut up,” Callum replied with humour, as he removed the last of the paper. He immediately recognised the vinyl record.

“I thought we could listen to it. It would help to remember them. I thought you’d like that,” Ben said as Callum traced the title of ‘Dream a Little Dream of Me’.

“I don’t have a record player though. You ain’t either, do you?” he questioned, though he loved the gift and knew it couldn’t have been an easy find.

“I was on a twenty pound budget that someone set!” Ben remarked, grinning. “I’ll get us one after Christmas when I can’t be accused of any rule breaking!”

Callum couldn’t help but focus on Ben’s words, reminding him that after the next few days they would officially be ‘us’. It was all he wanted in the world, and he wish he could click his fingers and they would be there, laying in bed listening to this song. The next few days didn’t make it feel achievable, the chasm on the road ahead looked too large to jump, the rope bridge destroyed and no one but him to try and reach the other side.

“Hey,” Ben said softly, cradling Callum’s head in his hands. “If you don’t like it, I can always swap it for Sex on Fire.”

Reaching up to cover one of Bens hands in his own, he smiled. He couldn’t believe he had someone who would do anything to make him happy. “It’s perfect,” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”

“Well, that’s what I tell myself,” Ben joked, bashfully looking down. “I’m not sure Martin felt the same way when he was throwing apples at my head the other day.”

“Well, you were trying to juggle what was left on the stall while we were crawling around picking them up,” Callum explained, taking a few more handfuls of crisps that Ben passed over to him. He licked his fingers and then passed Ben the bag he had brought over.

Ben looked eagerly in the bag and brought out the small rectangular present in there. He started to slowly pull open the paper, peeling off the tape carefully. Callum thought he was never going to finish, but eventually all the paper fell off the gift.

He saw Ben furrow his brow slightly as he looked at the present. “It’s phone case,” he announced, his eyes wide as he turned it back and forth. “Thanks, I’m always dropping mine,” he replied, leaning to give Callum a kiss on his cheek.

Callum grinned as he realised Ben hadn’t figured it out. “Do you know what’s on it?” he asked, pointing to the case.

Ben gave it another glance. “Well, it’s stars,” he replied. “Am I supposed to know their names? Astronomy ain’t on my top ten list of hobbies, I must admit.”

Callum gave a huff and then waved the gift bag back in Ben’s face. “Perhaps you’ve missed something.”

Ben looked suspiciously at Callum and then rifled around the bottom of the bag, pulling out some papers. He started to read them and Callum was pleased to see his face soften as the realisation dawned. “You got me a star?”

Pointing to the writing on the papers, Callum tapped on the part he wanted Ben to see. “I named a star for us, see,” he said, bringing Ben’s attention to where it said their names. “I know how much you like to scratch names onto things and if I could go up to the sky and carve out our initials, I would. This seemed like the next best thing. We’re written up there forever. It can’t be covered up or painted over,” he said, repeating Ben’s words back to him. “That way if the Vic catches fire or the pier gets destroyed, we’re always together somewhere.”

Callum cleared his throat a little. He knew it was a lot, the whole idea seeming of a greater magnitude than maybe their relationship was. With Whitney, he always bought her lovely gifts but they always seemed a bit generic; spa vouchers, meaningless jewellery or creams and lotions from the brand she liked. Anything else would be more practical, something she needed like her sewing machine. He’d never even considered getting her something sentimental.

That’s where his mind had immediately gone to with Ben though. There was just this urge to buy him something that could encapsulate everything he felt. Perhaps it was because Callum was so inexperienced in love and relationships, that he went with something a little corny. It’s what he felt though. He just hoped that Ben would take it the same way. He had panicking about it all week, on top of the other pressures.

“I mean you could have just got me a bottle of vodka,” Ben said, staring at the gift and then looking up at Callum’s horrified face. “I’m joking, Callum! This is the mind blowing. You are the most gorgeous man and you don’t even know it. Is this our star?”

Ben help up the phone case, and pointed at the picture on it. “Yeah,” Callum replied, a little bit of tension leaving his body. “It’s so you can see it even in the day.”

Leaning over to kiss him, he could see that Ben was smiling, which he took as a good sign. “Okay, mind blown even further. I love it. I…” he started, before leaning back and taking a breath. “I am so going to blow your mind in return later.”

They cleared away the discarded wrapping paper and stacked the presents in one bag. Callum asked Ben to keep his safe until he got back from Milton Keynes, though he put the keyring into his pocket.

“Right, come on then,” Ben said holding out his hand. “If I’m not gonna get any for another three days, I need to make the most of you now.”

Callum was led upstairs and into Ben’s room. As soon as he entered, he noticed the ‘wet floor’ sign hanging by a hook on the wall. It made him chuckle how sentimental Ben was. He spent most of his day going around snarking and sassing everyone in his path, doing dodgy deals and just barely staying out of trouble. But, he had the biggest heart of anyone Callum had ever met. Ben was just very selective who he opened it to.

“Does no one question why you’ve got this hanging here?” he asked, staring at the sign, the memory of running down the road and laughing, dispensing joy through his body.

“It’s one of the less bizarre acts anyone in this family have done,” Ben replied, pressing his body to Callum’s back and putting his arms around his waist. “I’d have to have a corpse nailed to the wall before any eyebrows were raised in this household.”

 Callum leant back a little as he felt kisses being trailed on the back of his neck; it prickled his skin and sent a spark through his whole body. He ran his hands up and down Ben’s arms, urging him on more until the other man was sucking harshly at his neck and one of his hands had moved lower to try and rub Callum through his jeans.

The angle was awkward, so Callum reluctantly released himself from the grip. He took Ben’s hand and led him towards the bed. “Lay down,” he directed, nodding towards the mess of blankets.

“You’re so demanding,” Ben replied with a smirk as he pushed back onto the bed.

“Told you I could get you to do what I wanted,” Callum retorted confidently, as he climbed on to the bed and hovered over him.

Ben reached up and harshly pulled Callum down for a kiss, their bodies eventually manoeuvring to fit comfortably. All distractions were out of Callum’s head now and all he could focus on was Ben’s hands moving over him and their bodies grinding together.

Callum checked his watch for the third time in the last five minutes.

“Time’s not just going to stop because you glare at it,” Ben muttered gruffly into his shoulder. He started to give a few kisses there, but Callum knew he couldn’t let him go on further.

“I’ve got to go now,” he said, giving Ben’s head a stroke to encourage him to move. They had been in bed for the last few hours. Callum felt like if he didn’t leave now, then he would just be content to stay here, curled up naked with Ben, their bodies intertwined under the blanket.

“I don’t give permission for that,” Ben said lifting his head and looking at him with heavy eyes. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

To make his point, he crawled up over Callum’s body and kissed him hard, as if their lips connecting meant the other man couldn’t leave. Callum settled into the embrace for a minute and then harshly gave Ben a shove, causing the other man to scowl at him. “I have to leave now, or I won’t get to Milton Keynes until late. Your family will be back soon anyway, and if that happens, I’m not sure how I’m going to explain the fact I’m creeping down from your bedroom.”

Ben gave an annoyed groan of submission and lay down with his hands behind his head, signalling to Callum that he could leave the bed. Callum crawled over him gently and tried to locate all his items of clothes, glaring at Ben when he wolf-whistled as he bent over to pick up his shirt.

Once he was dressed, Callum went to perch gently on the edge of the bed. Ben was still laying back and Callum could read disappointment in his face. “Two more days,” he quietly stated, leaning down to quickly peck at Ben’s lips.

“It’s two days too long,” Ben grumbled, but his face mellowed a little and he linked his fingers with Callum’s. “I’ll miss you.”

“You’ll be fine,” Callum replied. “A day of Ian shouting in the kitchen, your mum getting drunk on the brandy and Lola and Jay bickering. It’ll pass before you know it.”

Callum gave Ben one last long kiss and headed towards the door. He didn’t look back, he daren’t or he knew he just might never leave. He couldn’t stop the lump in his throat trying to choke out the tears that were threatening to form in his eyes. As he walked down the stairs, he tried to steady his breath, his whole body ordering to run back up to where he felt safe and calm. Callum knew he had to be brave though, if not for himself, then for Ben.

The air had turned crisper and he put his hands into his pockets after he shut the Beale’s back door, the handle wobbling slightly in his grip. His fingers brushed against cold metal and he brought out the keyring with a smile, bringing it to his lips. It was a reminder and a prompt to keep on going.

The gate squeaked as Callum continued to trace the words on his keyring while walking through it. He shut it firmly behind him and started to walk the route back to his flat, all his thoughts focused on what his future could be. Unexpectedly, he felt someone grip his shoulder. He smiled at the touch, knowing that Ben was finding it tricky to let him leave.

Turning around ready to give his boyfriend a final kiss goodbye, he was shocked at the person he found before him.

“Surprise!” Whitney squealed, as she threw her arms around him.

Chapter Text

“Are you gonna pull ya cracker, Halfway?”

“He’s already done that Mick, ain’t he? He’s punched well above with our Whit!” Bianca shrieked out, giving his hair an affectionate rub.

Callum smiled back at the comment, putting his hair back into place as laughter echoed down the length of the table. He didn’t think it would be possible to fit so many people in one room for Christmas lunch, but the Carters had pushed tables together in the length of the Vic, ensuring everyone was able to squeeze in.

It was a loud and boisterous meal with laughter, song and booming voices filling his ears. Callum could barely get a word spoken before someone interrupted him, not that he wanted to add much to the conversation. The loudness was suffocating and he had felt restricted and constrained since the previous evening.

Last night, he got the shock of his life when he turned around and saw Whitney. All his thoughts had been of Ben after spending the afternoon together and her sudden appearance in his view had felt strangely intrusive. She’d thrown her arms around him and it took him a moment to respond. Trying to react naturally, he gently put his hands on her back.

“What are you doing ‘ere?” he asked nervously, giving her a little squeeze.

“We decided to come to Walford for Christmas!” Whitney exclaimed excitedly. “What were you doing at Ian’s?”

Briefly, Callum’s mind tried to convince him to tell her now, right here in the middle of the Square. To just let the truth slide coolly from his lips. He soon shook off the thought, a million excuses filling his head as to why the time wasn’t right at the minute. Instead, he fell back to his usual routine of a half truth. “I brought a little present round for Lexi.”

“Aww, aren’t you the sweetest!” she said, leaning up to press a kiss against his lips. It felt strange and foreign and his whole body was rejecting it. Her lips were slippery and pressing, not at all what he had grown used to. “Did she like it?”

“Yeah,” he said nodding, putting an arm around Whitney’s shoulders to keep her from kissing him again. “She loved it.”

“You ain’t been there the whole time though, have you?” she questioned, as they started walking along the street. “We’ve been back at the flat for hours and Jay said you left work ages ago. He said you’d gone to do a bit of shopping.”

“I had a drink with Stuart,” he answered honestly. “I didn’t know you were coming back, I was just about to head up to Milton Keynes. You should have called and I’d have come home.”

“I tried to, ya wally!” she replied with a laugh. “But you left your phone, didn’t ya? It’s back at the flat. Didn’t you notice that it wasn’t with you?”

He actually hadn’t noticed at all. When he was with Ben, he didn’t care about anything else, nothing seemed to matter but the two of them. He must have left it when he went home to get changed and get Ben’s presents. A terrifying thought jumped into his head. What if Ben tried to ring or message him now? If Bianca was back at the flat, then she might see it come up on the screen.

“Probably had one too many,” he concluded, picking up the pace. “As it’s Christmas, I just got carried away and thought I had it with me.”

“It’s alright! I weren’t having a go!” Whitney replied, squeezing him tightly. “I’ve found you now anyway and I’m not going to let you go!”

When they reached their flat, Callum’s eyes naturally searched for his phone, trying to remember where he had placed it that morning. Before he could track it down, he was engulfed by an arm around his neck. “There he is!” Bianca exclaimed loudly, pulling him into a big bear hug. “We thought you’d done a runner, didn’t we Morgan?”

The teenager barely raised his eyebrows up from his screen, typing furiously away on his phone as he slouched on the sofa. “How you feeling?” Callum asked, hoping to get the conversation away from his location.

“Good as new!” she replied, spinning slowly around to display her rejuvenated health. “Probably an even better version than before, all thanks to this diamond.”

Bianca gave Whitney a big squeeze, the affection between the pair obvious. “Well, it weren’t all me!” Whitney stated brightly. “I wouldn’t have been able to spend as much time away if it weren’t for Callum being so understanding.”

“Well, I’ve finally returned your new bride to you Cal,” Bianca explained, pulling him in again. “Ain’t right, is it? You’d barely been married when I had to go and drag her away from you. Bet you got a lot of catching up to do. Don’t’ worry though, I brought my ear plugs!”

Both women launched into a cackle then and Callum tried to smile along. Bianca had brought up a significant point though. Tonight, he would be expected to climb into bed with Whitney, to kiss and cuddle her, to run his hands down her body and let her touch him wherever she pleased. The thought terrified him. It had been so long since he had to put up with it, thinking back to the feeling of dread in his body around the time of his wedding.

He could still smell the scent of Ben lightly on his clothing; he hadn’t showered before leaving the Beale’s house and the ghost of their actions covered his body. How could he possibly erase that and replace it with Whitney’s touch? It would feel like the ultimate betrayal.

Callum realised the ridiculousness of his thoughts. There couldn’t be many men out there that felt guilty for sleeping with their wife. It was his own fault; with Whitney out of sight, he’d pretended he wasn’t married. It was as if she was just a forgotten thought as he’d set up a life with Ben. True, they couldn’t be themselves out and about and that did cause him heartache. However, he spent most of his time at work or at the flat, the two locations that he could relish in being with the other man. They built this own little world around themselves that just caused them to fall deeper and deeper.

There was a vibrating noise from the kitchen counter and Callum practically leapt across the room to grab his phone when he recognised the alert. “You getting calls from your mistress, Cal?” Bianca joked, laughing along with Whitney at the suggestion.

“Nah,” he replied and tucked his phone into his pocket, eager to change the subject. “How come you’ve come to the Square for Christmas.”

“Well, Terry’s mum not too good. She moved to Scotland a few years ago, so he’s gone up there to be with her,” Whitney replied sensitively. “Liam wanted to stay in Milton Keynes, but Bee thought it’d be nice to come back here.”

“Rather that than spend it with Terry’s mum, the miserable old cow,” Bianca muttered unsympathetically, as Whitney tutted. “She’s never liked me, she’s probably only gonna snuff it so she can outdo my accident! Besides I’ve got my girls here, Sonia and Rob of course, and Morgan’s come along. A proper lovely family Christmas we’re gonna have.”

Callum was a little taken aback when Whitney suddenly broke down into tears. “I’m so sorry,” she sputtered out, as Bianca took her in her arms. “It’s just been a really rough couple of months. I can’t believe I’m finally here with my family and my husband. I just don’t want anything to spoil this day.”

“It won’t, Whit. We’re gonna give her a day she’ll never forget, eh Callum?” Bianca prompted to reassure her daughter. “It don’t matter about the turkey or presents. We’ll all be together and that’s all that matters.”

Callum felt like he was intruding on the moment. He knew that he should comfort his wife, but it would just be another lie to add to the pile. He excused himself to go to the bathroom. Once he shut the door behind him, he pulled out his phone and checked for messages.

I take it you’re not going to Milton Keynes then x

Callum realised that Ben must have gone to the back window to watch him as he was leaving. Part of him felt happy that he couldn’t let him go so easily, but then he realised that Ben must have seen Whitney hug and kiss him, as well as watch them walk off with their arms wrapped around each other.

Ben liked to cover things up and pretend he didn’t care, but that must have felt awful for him. Callum thought about how he would feel if it was him watching Ben walk away in someone else’s arms. He couldn’t stand the thought of sharing him, he’d want to run down and rip them apart. He quickly tapped out a message.

Whitney’s brought Bianca back to stay for Christmas x

He wasn’t really sure what else to say apart from that. They had both made peace with Callum going to Milton Keynes for Christmas. Whitney being back on the square was different though; it had smashed through their bubble of isolation. His phone vibrated insistently.

Sounds fun. What are you gonna do? x

Callum sensed the meaning behind the question. Ben had been very supportive about Callum’s suggestion that he tell Whitney about them after Christmas Day rather than sooner. However, Callum sensed he didn’t fully agree with the idea and he had second thoughts himself. It was different now though. Ben hadn’t been here to see Whitney break down just now. If he was going to break her heart it just couldn’t be now when she was so happy

I’m still gonna tell her on Boxing Day. x

Callum tapped his foot impatiently. He could see Ben was writing a reply, but after a few minutes it still hadn’t been sent. After a while, his message finally came through.

Okay x

Now he knew for certain, Ben didn’t agree with how he was handling things. He was clearly biting his tongue and trusting in Callum. After another short time, another message came through.

I miss you x

Callum’s whole body fluttered. All he wanted was to go over there and be there with Ben, to hold his hand and stroke his wrist, to rest his head on his shoulder and place kisses on his neck. Feeling bereft at the empty space beside him, Callum got the key ring he received out of his pocket and put it to his lips. An intrusive knock at the door forced him out of his moment. He knew he’s been in there too long than was probably socially acceptable. He quickly typed out a last message to Ben.

Miss you too. Soon x

Callum opened the bathroom door stepping back into the flat. The place felt alien to him, like he was in someone else’s home having to mind his manners and gain approval. He’d got so used to it just being him and Ben here, it was a place of safety and warmth. Other people being in here put him on edge.

“There he is!” Bianca said, popping the cork off a bottle. “We thought you’d fallen in!”

“Come and have a drink,” Whitney called out to him affectionately. “If we can’t celebrate today, when can we?”

There was no way he could tell Whitney now. He’d have to go with his original plan. Ben and Jay were wrong; Boxing Day would be the best time to do it. Nothing good would come from telling her here in front of her family.

After sharing a few bottles of prosecco, Bianca decided it was time to call it a night. She was going to take the spare room and Morgan would use the sofa. She gave them all a sloppy kiss on the cheek and then stumbled into the bedroom door, laughing all the way.

Callum gave Whitney’s brother some spare blankets and pillows, and then started to clear up the kitchen, wiping down the spilled drops of alcohol and piling up the recycling. As he was putting the glasses in the sink, he felt arms creep around his waist, causing all his muscles to tense.

“Leave that, we’ll do it in the morning,” Whitney slurred, rubbing his stomach muscles roughly. “Come to bed.”

“You go on,” he replied, trying to sound casual. “I’ll finish this.”

Whitney pouted slightly, but then gave him a lazy wink. “I’ll get the bed warmed up,” she smirked. “Don’t be too long.”

He took as much time as possible to thoroughly wash each glass, giving them a good wipe down with a tea towel before stacking them carefully back in the cupboard. He gave the side another clean down, scrubbing the surface. At this point Morgan had turned the lounge light off and Callum knew he couldn’t stay in the kitchen any longer.

Creeping over to the bedroom door, he quietly pushed it open. He hoped that with the arduous journey and the copious amount of wine, Whitney would be fast asleep by now. However, when he entered the room, he saw that she was very much awake. The lamp was on dimly and he could see the bed was covered with different sheets than he left this morning.  Whitney must have done that.  He felt angry then, knowing he had woken this morning wrapped in the sheets that he and Ben spent time in and now they’d been so easily replaced.

Sitting in the middle of the bed, in just her underwear, was his wife. She crawled up the bed motioning for him to come towards her. He couldn’t move, his feet feeling like they were cemented to the ground, his whole body feeling like it was being drained of blood and replaced with a spiked viscous liquid that gushed through his veins.

Unrelentingly, Whitney slid off the bed with a frown. She came towards Callum and took his hand, smiling up at him. Looking down, he took in her loving face. He cared about her, she was the loveliest girl and he didn’t want to let her down.  He’d made a vow to her. He didn’t want to do this, every fibre of his being wanted to run away. She encouraged him to take his clothes off until he was just left in his underwear.

Callum walked towards the bed and sat down as Whitney started to kiss his neck. He put a cautious hand on her back and focused his gaze on a hairbrush sitting on the dressing table. He started to try and identify the individual bristles, counting them over and over again so he wouldn’t leap off the bed and out the room. The repetitive task grounded him, kept him as calm as his body would allow.

“Are you alright?” Whitney asked, leaning back a little from where she was lavishing him with affection. “Shall I…”

She lowered her gaze down to his underwear. “No,” he answered quickly. “I’ll do it.” Callum inserted his thumbs underneath the material and pulled the clothing down, kicking them off onto the floor. Whitney was still kneeling on the bed waiting, but it was clear that she had seen he wasn’t aroused at all.

Staring back at the hairbrush and clearing his mind, he took his cock in his hand, stroking himself roughly to try and get himself going. It wasn’t working; he wasn’t the least bit hard, the dryness of his hand just becoming frustrating and uncomfortable as arousal wasn’t even threatening to appear in his body.

At the back of his mind an image came into his head, one that he knew would help him harden. He pushed it away and just focused on his hand, trying to find a rhythm that suited him. He wasn’t going to use him here. It wouldn’t be fair or right to do that anymore.

“What’s wrong?” Whitney asked insistently. She started to move her hand towards his. “Here, let me-“

“No!” he cautioned loudly. He hoped Bianca didn’t hear him shout and end up running in here. This wasn’t an image or moment he wanted to share with anyone. “Let’s just go to sleep, Whit.”

He bent down and picked up his underwear, pulling them back on his legs. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?” Whitney begged, raising her voice.

“Nothin’s wrong!” he exclaimed, as he got off the edge off the bed and moved around to his side. ”I’m tired; I’ve just been working hard. We’ve had a drink and all, ain’t we? It don’t help that your mum’s in the next room either. I just want to go to bed.”

With his outburst, Whitney climbed off the bed and reached into a drawer for a large t-shirt. She pulled it over her head and scrambled into bed, not turning back to look at him once. Callum switched off the lamp and got into his side of the bed, picking up his t-shirt from the floor as he went. He turned to face the bedside table, shuffling up right to the edge of the bed.

Eventually, he heard Whitney’s breath settle into a steady rhythm signalling she had finally dropped off to sleep. Callum let out an exhale that he didn’t know he was holding and dug his face into the pillow. It smelt of chemicalised flowers, the softness itching and rubbing on his face. He wanted his sheets back from the morning. He clung onto his t-shirt and brought it up to his nose. He wasn’t the same, but he could just make out a whisper that reminded him of Ben.

A cry started in his throat and ended up at his eyes. He just felt so guilty over his behaviour with Whitney. He felt awful for how he treated his wife, knowing that it spoilt the perfect evening she had planned. He’d made her feel unwanted and knew she must be confused. Her husband should be wanting to tear her clothes off her as soon as she walked through the door, after not sleeping together for months. What must she think of him?

It wasn’t just his wife he felt he was betraying either. How was he supposed to tell Ben that he’d almost slept with Whitney? He wouldn’t understand that he hadn’t wanted to; that he was just trying to get through the next day, so they could be together. He’d promised him that he wouldn’t be with her in that way again. And he hadn’t, his own body being the one to recognise and shout the truth.

He wished he were in bed with Ben now, having the other man crawl onto his body and settle his head on his chest. He wanted to run his fingers through Ben’s hair and sooth him to sleep like he usually did. Callum wanted to feel their legs tangled together, knowing that he could be brave and himself when they were one.

When Callum woke up the next morning, he smelt the sugary smoke of caramelised bacon. There was music ringing out, the clanging of the seasonal bells bashing through the wall. He looked over at the empty space in the bed next to him. He hadn’t heard her wake up. He was too caught up in a mess of tangled dreams, his subconscious shielding him from reality.

Callum hurled himself up and threw his legs off the bed. The shirt he had been holding last night was squashed like a pressed flower into the bed. He picked up the item and shook it out, the creases remaining unmoved. He took a deep breath and pulled it on.

After he pulled up his jeans, he made his way towards the door, slipping his phone in his pocket. Turning the metal handle and opening the bedroom door, the noises got louder, the sizzle of the frying pan thumping his ears.

“It’s emerged from its pit then,” Tiffany commented, giving Callum a dirty look from where she lazed on his sofa.

“Tiffany!” Bianca screeched from the kitchen, waving a spatula at her daughter. “This ain’t our flat, will you show some manners!

“Merry Christmas,” he muttered quietly, as Morgan lifted his hand in what he thought was a greeting. “Where’s Whit?”

“She’s just popped over to the Slaters to drop off some presents,” Bianca explained, the sharp ting of the metal utensil scraping loudly along the oily frying pan. “She said not to wake you, sleepy head.”

Callum just nodded, unsure what else to say. It was Christmas morning and he was surrounded by virtual strangers. “I’m just gonna grab a quick shower,” he said, pointing towards the bathroom, but no one seemed to be listening. Tiffany and Morgan were transfixed by their phones on the sofa and Bianca was singing along to The Pogues while flipping bacon, taking large gulps of Bucks Fizz between verses.

Closing and locking the bathroom door may not have shut out all the sound, but it felt comforting to be sealed away in a place that no one could reach him. He flipped the dial on the shower, the water immediately filling the air, the sound shushing his anxious heart. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and was surprised to see a message appear from Ben. It must have come through when he was still asleep.

He opened the message eagerly to find a picture of Ben and Lexi, smiling brightly at the camera. The little girl was holding the blue dragon that Callum had brought her back from Tenerife in one hand. In the other, she was holding a new red dragon. Callum read the message that accompanied the picture.

Lex loves her gift. She's happy that her dragon will never be lonely x

There was a bitter-sweet feeling running through him. He was so happy that Lexi was pleased and it was just a beautiful picture of them both. They looked like they were having a wonderful Christmas morning. He thought back to his own childhood Christmases. They were quite fuzzy when he was very small; he sometimes recalled his mum being there, but usually not. He remembered always feeling excited, the infectious feeling rolling into his body from the enthusiastic chatter of his mates. He knew it was a thrilling time; stockings on the fireplace, laughing, happy families and mountains of delicious food everywhere. He was drawn into the magic of the season.

That was never his experience though, especially when he was old enough to remember the day vividly. Stuart sometimes got him a present, a few toy soldiers or a little model car. The rest of the day wasn’t quite what he knew his friends from school were experiencing. His dad would stay out late on Christmas Eve, coming back in the early hours, barely able to stand. He’d sleep it off until at least midday. Some years Stuart was around in the morning, but sometimes he wasn’t around at all. Callum used to get up early and sit and watch Christmas films on the telly, making himself some cereal to snack on. He would sit so close to the screen that the images used to blur, but he daren’t turn the sound up too loud for fear of waking Jonno before he was ready.

At some point during the early afternoon, his dad would stagger downstairs. On a good year, he’d make him and Callum a fry up, the bacon filling the room with smoke. They’d eat their food on their laps, watching some comedy show that was on the box. Even on those years, the peace never lasted long. Jonno soon opened a new bottle of whisky. He started to get louder then, more critical of the personalities on tv; more critical of Callum. 

Stuart always said that Callum did his best to please and placate their father and that’s why he never got hit. His brother was happy to take the beatings, glad to mouth off and tell Jonno what he really thought of him. Stuart wasn’t always there though; he didn’t see everything that happened in the house. Callum was content to let his brother think the best.

There was one Christmas that stood out more than the rest. Jonno had got up earlier than he had in past years and he seemed in an unusually good mood, even encouraging them both to sing some Christmas songs as they made their fry-up. That morning, he’d found Callum downstairs, playing with some of his army figures, the superhero figures Stuart had got him that year and a little toy rabbit that Mrs Sutter, a lady down the road, had dropped in for him. He helped her with her shopping sometimes, when he was sitting on their front wall and he saw her struggling as she went past. She had popped in a few days ago, when his dad was down the pub, and said Callum could open the carefully wrapped parcel at once. He hugged the cuddly toy to him, naming the rabbit Patches and promising Mrs Sutter he’d take good care of him.

That morning, Jonno had created a real feast; bacon, eggs, sausages, tomato, beans and fried slice. Callum had eaten it eagerly and barely gave a glance as his dad quickly downed his first two beers of the day. They’d fallen into their usual routine after that. The telly was on and Jonno replaced the beers with spirits, swigging the whiskey from the bottle. This time though, instead of joining his dad on the sofa, he carried on happily playing with his toys on the ground.

The afternoon continued on, and Jonno had gradually become more and more of a slave to the alcohol, his comments aimed at the television becoming louder and littered with language that made Callum feel uncomfortable. He didn’t understand what all of it meant, but he knew it wasn’t anything nice. His favourite teacher at school always encouraged them to be kind and never say anything nasty about anyone else. Callum liked this approach, but he knew not all his friends did and certainly his family didn’t.

He ignored his father’s increasingly distasteful comments, content to keep on playing on the carpet. It was so long ago, he couldn’t remember what story he had made up that his toys were acting out, but he did recall the last part. One of his army men had done something heroic and his new Superman figure came to give him a hug to thank him. Before he really knew what was happening, he was being hoisted in the air by his arm, so forcefully that Callum thought his shoulder would come out of its socket.

Thinking back, he remembered the stock laughter ringing out from some sitcom on the telly as his father dragged him into the kitchen, his fingers digging deeply into Callum’s arm. Jonno had kept his hand there, squeezing tightly, while he threw the discarded plates from their breakfast out of the sink. He put the plug in, turning on the taps ferociously. Callum remembered that he kept apologising to his dad, not really sure what he’d done, but it hadn’t worked this time. His father just littered out a string of insults, telling him that he wouldn’t let his son turn into one of them.

The sink had filled up with water, the bubbles of the washing up liquid floating like pure, white clouds on top. His father had then pulled a chair closer to the sink and roughly hurled him up on it. Callum could just barely have time to take in the artificial, floral smell before he felt his head being plunged into the sink.

They had gone swimming with school a few times, and Callum remembered that the teacher had taught them to hold their breath and put their head under the water, counting to twenty to keep them focused. This felt completely different to that experience. He hadn’t been ready and the water spluttered harshly into his airways. It felt like his chest was being filled, the pressure willing his lungs to stop their work. He tried to gulp breaths, but nothing was happening, the hold on his head to hard to be able to escape. There was a tiny speck of bacon floating in front of him, and Callum stared at it, counting his way to twenty.

This wasn’t the only time in his life that Callum thought he was going to die; but it was the first. He was almost surprised when he felt his head being pulled out, water flooding down his face in cascades. He fell to floor spluttering and coughing. It was like the water would never leave his body, that it would continue drowning him little by little. Rubbing his eyes just made them worse, they stung viciously with the harshness of the innocent looking bubbles.

After a few moments, his father appeared back at the kitchen door, his arms full of Callum’s toys. It was all the action figures and soft toys that he’d received over the years. “Only pansies play with dolls,” his father had said, stepping on the pedal bin to open the lid. He carelessly threw all the toys in there, the lid slamming shut when he released his foot. Jonno strode back through the kitchen, sitting back on the sofa to take another long sip of whiskey. Callum remembered sitting curled up on the kitchen floor for ages, just staring at one floppy rabbit ear that hung over the side of the bin.

It must have been a year that Stuart was around, as when his brother returned later, Callum was waiting for him, sitting on the bottom stair, football in hand. He hoped the act would please his father, maybe even let him take his toys out the bin, but by that point in the day Jonno had drunk so much that he was practically passed out and didn’t even raise an eyelid when Callum said he and Stuart were going to have a kick about in the park. He never told his brother what his dad did and when Stuart clapped him on the shoulder later to congratulate him on a goal, he smiled through the grimace of pain.

Bringing himself back to the bathroom, Callum continued to look at the photo he was sent. Ben was so beautiful. It made him miss the other man more and just want to be in his arms. He knew if things were different, he would be in that photo, not sitting here in the bathroom while his flat was being overtaken by strangers. It could be different though. All Callum had to do was get through this day. He took a deep breath and started to undress for the shower.

After he showered and dressed, he rummaged in his pocket, pulling out the keyring that Ben had given him. He kissed it twice, holding it to his face for a moment before slipping it back in his jeans. He opened his phone and typed a quick message back to Ben.

She’s got two dragons to watch over her now. You look amazing. I miss you x

Opening the door, he immediately saw that Whitney was back, standing at the counter laughing with Bianca. They both continued chuckling when they saw him, but he noticed the twinkle leave his wife’s eyes a little.

“Did you marry a mermaid, Whit?” Bianca joked. “He spends more time in that bathroom than he does out of it. You want a bacon sandwich, Cal? I shoved some in the oven for you.”

Callum shook his head. “No, thanks,” he replied, walking towards the bedroom. “I’ll just have some cereal in a bit.”

When he got to the bedroom, he started to pull out some fresh clothes. He didn’t feel comfortable walking through the lounge in just a towel, so had just dressed back into his outfit from yesterday. As he was pulling off his t-shirt, Whitney came through the door.

“Alright?” she asked, cautiously. He could tell she was being careful around him, not knowing how to act after last night.

“Yeah, your mum’s been cooking up a storm, I see?” he replied trying to bring lightness back. He didn’t want to focus on what happened, he just wanted to give her a good day.

“Almost burning down the flat, more like it!” Whitney laughed, and the tension between them started to thin. “About last night-“

“I’m sorry,” Callum interrupted, not wanting to get into a fight right now. “It was such a long day. I think everything just got on top of me.”

“It’s alright,” Whitney said, coming to give him a cuddle. He accepted, giving her a tight squeeze, pleased she wasn’t pressing him too much on the matter. “I had a good chat to Stace this morning. I’ve got to remember you’re not like all the other blokes. I know you were probably a bit shy with other people in the flat. You’re decent, it’s not about sex with you; you care about me.”

Callum smiled back at her. What could he possibly say? That he did like sex. That he loved it. That sometimes all he thought about when he was stuck at work were the things he wanted Ben to do when he got home at night. There was a part of him that cringed at the thought of the two women discussing him and their love life. In the end though, he just tried to stick to the truth, or at least a version on it. “Of course I care about you,” he replied, giving her a small kiss to the cheek.

“We got plenty of time, ain’t we?” she replied with a big grin. “Now that I’m back for good. We don’t need to force things.”

Callum gave her a final squeeze and then picked his clothes off the floor, placing them into the laundry basket. “What we gonna do for lunch then?” Callum asked. “I’m not sure I’ve got much in the fridge.”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Whitney said, making the bed. “Bee and I bought a load of shopping with us yesterday. Well, we ran into Linda on the way here and decided we’d all have dinner together.  They can cook it all in their ovens. There’s all our lot and their lot. I did ask about Stuart, but apparently, he’s staying with Dot and some people from her church for a bit of lunch! Weird that, eh?”

“At least he won’t be alone,” Callum replied, helping tidy up the bedroom.

“Yeah, well Mick’s agreed that he can come over for a drink with Dot in the evening if we’re still there,” Whitney explained. “As long as he keeps his nose clean, but I can’t see him causing trouble on Christmas can you?”

Callum could see that happening, but he didn’t want to reveal that. They would just have a nice lunch at the Vic and then a quick drink with everyone. He could bring Whitney back first, he wouldn’t have to wait until tomorrow. He could tell her everything tonight while they were alone.

A few hours later, they were sitting in the Queen Victoria tucking into a delicious lunch. Callum wasn’t really feeling hungry, moving his turkey around his plate a little so no one noticed his lack of appetite. Everyone was in good spirits, eagerly swallowing down wine and piling their plates full.

Callum smiled along with the rest of them, politely answering questions when talked to and made sure a grin was fixed onto his face. He couldn’t face the food, his stomach churning at the thought of filling it. He did sip constantly at his champagne though, the feeling giving him a slight buzz and taking away the tension in his body.

After they had all eaten lunch, everything was cleared away. He was more than happy to help tidy up rather than sit with Whitney’s family any longer. He liked them well enough and they clearly loved his wife, he just couldn’t manage their demanding presence today.  He stood in the Vic’s kitchen, cleaning and hosing off the plates, ready to go in the dishwasher.

“That boy of Bianca’s can sure put it away, can’t he?” Mick said, bringing the final few dishes in from the bar. “It’s a good job they bought half the grub otherwise he would have eaten me out of house and home. Leave that Halfway, come have a drink.”

“No, it’s alright, Mick. I’ll get it finished,” he replied, not looking at the man but continuing to clear off the plates and stack them up.  “I’ll be out in a minute.”

The landlord didn’t leave though, just simply leaned against the counter with his arms folded. He was still wearing the hat from his Christmas cracker, the item sitting slightly wonkily on his head. “Anything the matter son?” he asked. “You just don’t seem yourself.”

Callum kept up the rhythm of clearing a plate and stacking, focusing on the task and not the lump in his throat that built. He daren’t look up, knowing that if he did, he’d just blurt everything out. He knew he could trust Mick, but he just had to keep everything in for a few more hours.

“I’m fine, Mick,” he answered. “It’s just been a long few months, that’s all.”

There was silence from the other man and Callum could tell that Mick still didn’t believe him. “I think there’s been something bothering you longer than that,” he started, and for a minute Callum was worried that he was going to keep on pushing him to talk. “I’m always here for you, Halfway, even if no one else is.”

“I know, Mick,” he replied, continuing to hose down the plates. “I’ll be out in a second, I promise. Get me a pint in, yeah?”

Mick clapped him on the shoulder before leaving, causing Callum to drop the plate he was holding, the sound clanging in the sink briefly. He liked it in here, it was quiet, but he knew he had to return to the bar soon or someone else would come and find him. Stacking up the final plates, he took a large breath and walked out of the kitchen.

Around half an hour ago, Linda and Mick had opened up the doors and other residents of the square had started drifting in. The atmosphere was merry and spirited, most of the punters having spent a large portion of the day already drinking. Callum didn’t want to sit still for too long, so he helped out collecting glasses and pulling a few pints.

“I’m just saying we could have made a lot of money today,” he heard Ian exclaim. “A three course set menu; we could have charged a fortune for it with very little outgoing cost!”

“It ain’t just about the money, Ian,” Max replied forcefully to his business partner. “Other things are more important about today. It’s a day for family.”

“I’m as much about family as anyone!” Ian argues. “Who do you think would have been serving?”

The rest of the table all groaned. “Where is the rest of your family then?” Whitney asked, coming to perch on a chair the end of the table.

“Bobby’s over there talking to your sister, against my better judgement,” Ian said, scowling in Tiffany’s direction. “Lola’s just nipped to the loo, but Lexi is with Karen’s oldest girl and her kids.”

“That against your better judgement as well, is it?” Whitney asked critically, noticing the man’s tone.

“All I pointed out to Lola was that Lexi had a long day yesterday, and spending the evening with the Taylors wasn’t going to do her any good,” Ian explained, as most of the table shook their heads. “Being stuck on the tube until nine o’clock last night with me mum and a seven-year-old, after being dragged around London all day, wasn’t exactly a calming experience for me either!”

“Yeah you’re right,” Jack pointed out with a roll of his eyes. “You’re all about family you! Where is Kathy anyway?”

“She’ll be over soon. I left her, Ben and Jay to do the washing up,” Ian explained. “It shouldn’t take her too long.”

“You left your mum to do all the tidying up?” Linda asked, catching on to the conversation as she walked past. “Charming!”

“I left Jay and Ben there too!” Ian said, defending himself. “I was the one that did all the cooking.”

“Jay left to go change his clothes. He weren’t exactly looking his best,” Lola intercepted, re-joining the table. “And you really think Ben’s going to be washing up? How’s he supposed to do that with his phone permanently glued to his hand?”

Callum smiled a little at Lola’s comment. About fifteen minutes ago, he’d snuck upstairs and locked himself in the Carter’s bathroom to check his mobile. He daren’t get it out over dinner, not wanting anyone to see a text or photo that could give anything away. He was pleased to see a few text messages from Ben that had come through.

I miss you so much. Ian’s not laughing at any of my stuffing comments x

My mum’s had a few too many. She’s telling me she just wants me to find a nice young man that will give me hugs. I’ve hold off telling her I’ve already got one that gives hugs and shags me senseless. Maybe after another drink ;) x

Jay’s just spilt gravy all down himself. I may have accidently just scrolled by that photo I took of you last week when showing him a picture of Lexi. Probably not for anyone elses viewing. Highlight of my day so far. x

Jay’s created a rule three ;) x

Will be over at the Vic soon, mum’s just finishing washing up. I’ll help once it becomes less funny trying to see her put on rubber gloves while half cut. X

That was the last message he had received. Callum brought back up the picture of Ben and Lexi he was sent that morning. It seemed so far away behind the glass screen, so inaccessible. He shook that thought out of his head. Ben would be over at the pub soon, and though they still couldn’t be open, they could probably nip away for five minutes together. Then, he could take Whitney home and tell her. Seeing Ben would give him the confidence he needed to do that.

Hearing Ian say that the rest of his family would be there soon, gave his mood a little lightness. Ben would be here and he would help him confirm what he could say to Whitney. Callum didn’t want to wait too much longer; Bianca was downing drinks and he wasn’t sure how much more she could handle before she needed to go home.

Sure enough, his mother-in-law had just stumbled her way to the bar, sitting down, putting her arm around Tiffany and shouting out for Tracey to serve her. “Bee,” Whitney called out. “Let’s go home, eh? We can all have another drink there and watch some telly.”

“Just one more drink, Whit,” she replied, and Callum’s heart sank. How was he going to get Whitney home and confess everything to her in that time? Ben wasn’t even here yet and there was no way that Whitney would leave her mum in this state. Conceding defeat, he decided to go back to his plan of telling his wife in the morning.

Tracey put down a glass of fizz onto the bar, after receiving confirmation from Linda. It was Christmas and in truth most of the punters had drunk more than they usually would. The atmosphere was still light and pleasant, so the landlords didn’t object to serving people who were slightly worse for wear.

Bianca, glass in hand, tried to get off her bar stool. Callum thought maybe he should go help and in hindsight he wished he had. She seemed steady enough at first, but then whirled around into the first body that was behind her, her glass flying up and her drink soaking her dress. “Bobby!” she shrieked. “Look what you’ve done!”

“I didn’t do anything!” the young man insisted, holding his hands up. “You tripped.”

“Typical!” Bianca slurred back at him. “It’s not the first time you’ve used that excuse, is it?”

“You get more and more like your father every day, Bianca,” Ian declared from his seat. “You’ve got the worst of your mother as well. Not a surprise your family is the way it is.”

“Oi!” Whitney called back. “Leave her alone! There’s nothing wrong with our family. Take a look in the mirror, why don’t ya!”

“There’s nothing wrong with mine either!” Ian retorted.

“Once a murderer always a murderer!” Bianca replied, pointing towards Bobby. “He ain’t the only one either in your ‘ouse! Sleep with one eye open, do ya Ian?”

“We’ve paid for all our mistakes,” Bobby said, more confidently than Callum had ever heard him. Usually he slunk around, barely looking up from the ground. “We don’t pretend to be perfect.”

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” Whitney asked angrily, getting up and approaching Bobby.

“Leave him alone, Whit!” Tiffany said, defending her friend.

“No, I won’t,” Whitney replied, waving a hand at her in dismissal. “I’m not having our family being insulted by a liar like him.”

“I’m the liar?” Bobby asked incredulously. “Perhaps you should aim that at your husband, Whitney. He’s the one that’s cheated on you.”

Callum felt all eyes turn towards him.

Chapter Text

Callum’s ears began to buzz and hum as Bobby’s words echoed in them. He wanted to rip all the letters out one by one and force them back down the boy’s throat. He carried on staring at the glass he had just collected, moving his hand slightly so the remnants of the pale amber liquid swirled in the bottom. His skin pricked and burnt as he felt stares and glares lasering into his back. He tried to pretend they weren’t there, that if he didn’t look up then none of it was really happening.

The quiet didn’t last for long though as angry voices soon spoke up. “Oh, that’s it,” Bianca started screaming again. “More lies!

“I think you need to go home Bianca,” Mick said quietly, leaning across the bar to get her attention.

Instead of heeding the landlord’s advice, she carried on her protests. “I’m not going anywhere until he apologises to my family!” she announced, getting in Bobby’s face.

There was a loud scoff of rejection from the table. “He’s not apologising for anything,” Ian remarked, though wisely choosing not to approach his hysterical niece. This caused voices from all over the pub to speak up, most of them choosing to criticise the young Beale for what they believed were callous comments. The loudest voice of all belonged to Bianca who was still screeching, slurring her insults.

“Tiffany, would you take your mother to slap some water on her boat, please,” Mick asked, frustratedly waving his hand towards the woman. The atmosphere in the pub had changed dramatically in just a few moments, spoiling the festive environment. The young girl nodded and took Bianca by the arm.

“Come on, mum,” Tiffany said, practically holding the older woman up. “Let’s get some air.”

“I’m not finished with you yet!” Bianca said, as she staggered past Bobby.

Ian gave Bianca a look of disgust as she stumbled out of the bar. “Give her three minutes, she’ll be passed out in her own vomit,” he remarked, cowardly waiting until she couldn’t hear him.

Max scowled at his business partner, clearly not being happy about sitting with him when things were calmer, but now looking at him with noticeable disdain. “Why don’t you just call it a day, Ian, eh? Take your son home.”

Ian folded his arms in disagreement. “We haven’t done anything wrong!” he stated back to the man. “Have we Bobby?”

However, when looking around Ian couldn’t see his son anywhere. “Oh fantastic! Your lot have now scared off a 16 year old boy. Proud of yourselves, are you?”

With Bianca gone there wasn’t a loud response, but Whitney was still in earshot and clearly still in a defensive mode. “How dare you! We ain’t done nothing. It’s you that’s been insulting our family.”

“I did not!” Ian protested. “Just because Bianca’s brain claps out before her mouth, there’s no point in taking it out on us.”

“Oh yeah, you’re really holding back on the insults, aren’t you?” Stacey called out from the other side of the bar.

Martin started shaking his head, clearly not wanting to be caught in the middle. “Stace, lay off.”

Stacey turned to him wide eyed. “Are you actually defending him? Ian’s been constantly picking at them and Bobby accused Callum of having an affair. I know they’re your family, but they’re not coming out of this smelling of roses, are they?”

Ian gave a large sigh, picking up his drink as if nothing had happened. “All that’s happened is Bianca’s got leathered, spilt her drink on herself and then taken it out on Bobby. You can’t blame a kid for answering back a bit when accused of something he didn’t do.”

“Whit,” Callum said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

His wife didn’t seem to be paying attention though, her focus still on Ian. “Yeah, well he needs to be more careful on what his says. You do and all,” she replied conciliatorily, calming the tension down a little. “I know Bee was out of order, but there’s no need to start throwing lies about. Callum’s never done nothing to him.”

“I’m so sorry,” Callum repeated, a little louder this time.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up to see who it belonged to. Mick shook his head at him. “Halfway, not here,” the landlord warned quietly.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, Callum,” Whitney said, still looking towards Ian. “I expect to see Bobby over at ours tomorrow for a full apology.”

Ian sighed in defeat. “I’ll send him over in the morning, but I expect Bianca to apologise to him too,” he replied insistently, not wanting anyone else to gain the upper hand. “Happy?”

Whitney turned towards Callum then. “That’s alright with you, yeah babe?” she said running an affectionate hand down his arm.

No one had listened. Bobby had announced to the whole pub that he had cheated on Whitney and no one had believed it. They couldn’t see it in him; they didn’t think it possible. He was Whitney’s fella who smiled happily and did as he was told. They didn’t look at him as one of them; someone capable of being humanly flawed. They otherised him as someone who was dispensable to the gathering or conversation, never adding anything of substance or importance. He could stay in that zone that they placed him now if he wanted. Everyone was denying it for him anyway, like they knew him so well. He could stay safe and let the rumours disappear into the background.

He thought of Ben then. Not just in his feelings for him, but how he was as a person. They’d talked a lot over the last few months. Ben speaking about his experiences of coming out. They would lay in bed, eyes half closed and Ben would kiss his head and speak to him in a whisper, like pulling the memory was easier the quieter it was said. There was such a softness in his voice, but also a deep regret.

“I understand you know,” he would say, pressing their bodies together. “I know it’s not easy. You’re brave, Callum. You are.”

“I’m not like you,” he would answer. He would mean it. Ben was so audacious in his eyes, so unapologetic for who he was, ready to take on anyone who thought otherwise. There was no way Callum could ever be like that.

Ben would quirk a smile then. “Most people would think that a good thing. They don’t see me as anything worth being.”

“That’s because they’re not looking properly,” he would say, nuzzling into Ben’s neck. “They don’t see me at all. You make me feel that I can be anyone I want to be.”

Holding on to those moments, he remembered the words Ben would always whisper. “You are brave.” He never really believed him; how could he possibly look courageous in his eyes. Now though, standing here with the truth looming over, ready to be free, it was something he wanted to be. He needed to. He wanted to make Ben proud and show him that he could be all the things he saw in him.

Turning towards Whitney, he suddenly moved his hand to grip her wrist, making sure she was looking him in the eyes. “I’m so sorry, Whit.”

It was his first proper look at the crowd in the Vic since Bobby had spoken his words. There were no harsh glances in his direction. No one was really paying attention to him at all, except for Mick. The landlord was squinting towards him, his expression similar to his stance in the kitchen earlier. He never could fool Mick, not even when he was little, not even when he could convince Stuart. His brother’s friend still watched him like he knew something was wrong.

 He looked back at Whitney, willing to make her understand, but she just frowned at him, confused by his words. “What are you on about? It’s not your fault my mum can’t handle her drink or that their lot kicked off, is it?”

Callum wondered why she couldn’t see it. Why she couldn’t pick up on the pain on his face. Why couldn’t she see him? The rest of the pub he could understand, but she had married him and still didn’t notice. Callum just clung on to the sleeve of her dress as she tried to move back, not willing to let this moment pass. “Callum, what are you doing?” she asked finally, tutting at him.

“Why don’t you two go upstairs, eh?” Mick said, overseeing what was happening. It was then that Callum was certain that the landlord knew. He wasn’t sure if it was for months, weeks or just the last few minutes, but he knew the truth.

“For what?” Whitney said, her voice getting louder. “Callum what is wrong with you? Don’t be upset by what Bobby said, no one’s going to believe it!”

“Whit maybe you should go upstairs and talk,” Mick continued, emphasising the words in the hopes she would listen. “I think Halfway wants a word.”

Whitney pulled her sleeve away then. “About what? I don’t get it,” she exclaimed. “Callum, what exactly do you need to talk to me about?”

Callum could feel his whole body shaking, he knew there was no going back now. He could have denied what had been said, but now it was out, there was a small part of him that was relived. He was still struggling with the words though, despite all the times he spent rehearsing, going over and over it in his head. It was never like this though, in front of other people that would judge and despise him. A voice entered his mind. Be brave. You are brave.

“Bobby,” he answered, the words catching in his throat. “He ain’t a liar.”

“Why you saying that?” Whitney said, shaking her head. “I know you like to see the best in people, but he accused you of cheating on me, Callum.”

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated. He didn’t understand why he had to say any more. It was so easy with Ben, he didn’t even have to mutter a word and the other man would know how he was feeling. He’d use his expressive words and just be able to articulate all the thoughts that swam around Callum’s head. Why didn’t she understand?

As if his thoughts finally penetrated her mind, Whitney started to shake her head, backing a little away. “No,” she said the shaky vibration in her voice defying her denial. “You never. Not you.”

“Halfway, you ain’t!” Linda added, following the conversation.  Mick moved to shush her, putting his hand on her arm to make sure she didn’t say anything further.

Whitney was looking at him, studying him as if he’d just transformed his body into someone else.

“Blimey, I never saw that one coming,” Kat called from the other side of the bar. “Turns out even Prince Charming gets his leg over on the side.”

“Tell me it ain’t true,” Whitney pleaded. “I’ll believe you, I swear, just tell me it’s not true.”

She was giving him a way out. Most men would dream of this if they’d cheated on their wife. That they could so easily have a lie be believed. He didn’t want to continue with the deception anymore. “I can’t Whit!”

“I’ll hold off sending Bobby around for that apology, shall I?” a voice mocked from behind them.

“Ian, lay off for a minute, would you?” Max complained. “You can see she’s distraught.” That word stabbed through Callum; it wasn’t all about him and how he felt. Whitney must be in so much pain.

“Well I should have known you’d take his side,” Ian said with a dig. “Having a Christmas off from stealing someone’s wife are you? Got your understudy to stand in?”

“What did Bobby mean then?” Whitney said suddenly, squinting her eyes in confusion. “You cheated on me? You kissed someone else, is that it? You were out one night and snogged some bird who grabbed you.”

That’s what people would expect. If he confirmed it, then they’d all believe him. Just a stupid drunken snog that Callum didn’t even realise was happening with some drunk girl in E20. They’d all shake their heads at him a little, he’d possibly even go up in some people’s estimation, but it would be forgotten by the end of the week. He wasn’t going back.

“It weren’t that,” Callum replied. He didn’t know what else to say. How could he possibly sum up his and Ben’s relationship in one sentence? He couldn’t even call it cheating, though he knew that’s what it was when it came down to it. He didn’t share the same things with Ben as he did with Whitney, so it didn’t feel like he was betraying anyone.

“Well you didn’t sleep with someone else,” Whitney replied confidently. “That ain’t you. I know you and you wouldn’t just go and shag some random bird that was holding up the bar. You ain’t slept with someone else.”

Callum was silent. Her expectations were so high for him. She thought the sun shone from every fibre of his being and he was perfect. That was such a high expectation to behold. He was so tired of doing everything to please everyone.  It had been that way since he was a kid. If he could just make sure the house was clean and he didn’t get in the way, then his dad wouldn’t get angry. If he just kept Jonno’s behaviour to himself, the Stuart wouldn’t kick off. If he could just laugh along with his mates from school, then they wouldn’t notice he fancied them more than their girlfriends. If he just did as he was told in the army, then he could forget how much he loathed himself. If he just married Whitney, then he could ignore his feelings for Ben.

He had presented this image of himself to everyone, in the hopes they wouldn’t see his flaws. He was ashamed on them, protective of them. They were open weeping wounds and ugly, scrabbled scars that needed covering up. Ben had seen them though, he’d seen right through him from the start without even really trying.

Sometimes he thought that was one of the reasons he liked being with Ben. He couldn’t hide up who he truly was even if he wanted to, so it was just easier to be himself. Callum felt like he never had to be subservient and fade into the background when he was Ben. He let himself be helped, he let himself be taken care of by the other man, in ways he didn’t really notice at the time. He would feel showered with affection. He didn’t have expectations, only that he wanted them to be together. He sometimes felt guilty when he was with Ben; maybe he was too demanding, but he realised the other man liked to make him feel special.

Looking into Whitney’s eyes now, he saw what he’d seen in so many others. The realisation of how useless he really was. Disgust in his flawed character that was hidden behind his rotting mask.

“Whit, go upstairs yeah,” Linda said, insistently. “Ollie’s asleep though, so keep the noise down.”

Callum was expecting Whitney to refuse and carry on the conversation in front of everyone. He never liked to stand in front of a lot of people and speak, and he especially wasn’t happy talking about himself. Thankfully, Whitney must have felt the same. She didn’t say anything more, but turned and headed towards the door leading upstairs.

As she walked through the bar, a few people patted her on the arm and gave her a sympathetic smile. It almost made him laugh at how quickly the crowd could turn. Only a few moments ago, they were playing the part of his friends, slapping him on the back and having a laugh and joke. Now they looked at him with contempt, as if his life were anything to do with them. It only solidified his suspicions that they didn’t care about him; he was just part of the scenery that was there to serve them.

He went after Whitney, catching Mick’s eye on the way. There was disappointment, he could see that clearly, but also a softness which Callum knew meant he would keep his word about being there for him. Of all the people in here, he had one that actually knew him a little. It was probably one more than he deserved. As he made his way to the door, his ears couldn’t help but catch the conversations that started.

“Well clearly he could perform for someone,” he heard a voice screech vindictively. “I thought maybe he was called Halfway because he struggled to it all the way up!”

“Kat will you be quiet, Whitney told me that in confidence!” he heard Stacey try to whisper, but it was clear that both ladies’ voices bounced around the bar.

“Well perhaps he should have kept the his stiff locked in the morgue, if he didn’t want everyone to know!” Mo replied, equally as loud.

Thankfully the door shut behind him then. He hated everyone knowing his business. When he was a kid at school, those that knew his family would make sympathetic faces or ones of disgust. Comments were made but never to his face, always whispered in corners. They would never dream of saying it directly to him in case it got back to Stuart. He would always approach people with a smile, not wanting to draw any sympathy or attention.

Callum followed Whitney into the Carter’s lounge. It felt strange to suddenly inhabit the space when they lived here for so long. The location bringing back the feelings and memories that were created here. Most were happy, but the others, well they always bled through in the end.

Whitney sat down on the sofa and dropped her head into her hands. Callum didn’t understand why she was so quiet. He would prefer it if she shouted and screamed. He could take that. It was quiet anger that always feared him most. When he knew the person was furious with him, and he just had to wait until they exploded.

“You’ve slept with someone else,” she stated, as if challenging him to deny it again.

Callum had gone far past the point of denial. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Whitney spat out, sending his word back at him. “I’ve just accused you of breaking our wedding vows and you give an answer as if I asked if you wanted chicken for tea!”

“I just want to be honest with you Whit,” he replied. It was true, that’s what he wanted to do. The words were still scrolling and whirling around his head though. They were going too fast for him to catch and release through his mouth.

“Well you ain’t been honest, have you Callum?” Whitney replied. “The only reason we’re sitting here is because Bobby Beale announced it in a room full of my friends and family. How do you think that made me feel?”

Deep down, he knew how it made her feel, because that’s why he didn’t want to tell her in the first place.  He understood the pain of rejection, he’d known it his whole life. He’d just never been on this side of it before. “I never wanted to hurt you, Whit.”

“Well you should have thought about that before you went and shagged someone else when you was married!” she snarled back, before turning her head towards him quickly. “Was it while we were married?”

Callum nodded his head, the only response he could seem to get out. He knew it was only part of the story though. How could he tell her that it all started the day before he proposed?

 “We’ve only been married a few months! Maybe I could understand if it was when we were first going out, before we really settled, you know?”

“You were my first proper relationship, Whit. You know that,” he clarified, not wanting to make her feel that he went out looking for someone better.

“I don’t know what I know anymore! Were you a virgin or was that a lie too?”

It had taken a lot to confess that to Whitney, how inexperienced he was. Sex had been such a confusing concept when growing up. When he’d reached his teens, his friends would talk about girls and what they wanted to do with them. They used to pass around magazines or images and Callum would mimic the other boy’s responses, so he didn’t stand out. He’d sometimes lie when asked about his preferences with girls, remembering what the other boys had said and changing his answers just enough so he wouldn’t be challenged.

At the end of the school year, they had a disco. They’d put up some cheap decorations in the assembly hall and forgettable upbeat music rattled out of the twenty-year-old sound system. He kissed a girl on the lips that night. Her name was Jenn and he’d heard the rumours for months about how much she fancied him. There was only so long he could pretend not to hear or change the subject before his mate Harry dragged him over to the corner where she stood with a group of giggling girls. She approached him and put her arms around him leaning up expectantly. It didn’t feel like they described in the movies. He thought it would grow on him, so he kissed her a few more times during high school. It wasn’t her lips he thought about at night though; it was Harry’s.

It was easy then, a few awkward kisses with a few girls but nothing was expected of him so there wasn’t much to lie about. None of his mates were that experienced, they all talked about it in terms of hope and desire. A few years later though and things began to change. Some of his mates got steady girlfriends while others played the field a bit. That’s when the lies really came in.

Callum knew his mates would start to notice. Having a girlfriend wasn’t something he could lie about though. Instead, at parties he’d pick a girl to chat to all night. Sometimes he’d kiss them, but not if he could get away without doing it. Then when his mates asked him about the girl, he wouldn’t say anything, but he wouldn’t disagree when they assumed he’d gone off and slept with her. In truth, he usually walked the girl home, giving her a quick peck on the cheek to say goodnight.

Lying became second nature, though no one ever accused him of it. He was always just ‘honest, sweet Callum’ and his friends accepted that he wouldn’t bawdily discuss who he slept with. There weren’t any questions about him getting a serious girlfriend, as one by one his friends disappeared out of his social circle, and new ones came in. He was never that close to any one of them, never had a best friend. That would lead to too many questions, too many secrets and he couldn’t imagine trusting anyone enough with those.

Callum knew his Dad and Stuart suspected though, even if it was just an underlying fear more than anything else. He sometimes brought home a girl for dinner, but it was never the same girl and it would just be a friend. His family would never say anything though, as if speaking their fears out loud would make them true. Jonno would just laugh about him sowing his wild oats, but Stuart got a look in his eye that told him he wasn’t so easily convinced.

When he joined the army, in a way it was to get away from the questioning of his love life. It wouldn’t be expected or encouraged of him to find a girlfriend while he was serving. When the other lads had discussions about their wives or partners at home, he could just nod along with the rest of the boys that were single. No one was going to check up on the fact there was a girl called Jenn from home that he described as his ex-girlfriend. He shared the story of the one girl who had broken his heart so often that he almost started to believe it himself.

The alarm bells that had started ringing all those years ago, got louder as the years passed. Having sex with a girl just didn’t interest him. There wasn’t anything coursing through his veins when he thought about a naked woman. He could admit to their beauty but nothing else.

Ben had said something to him, when he confronted him the Beale’s all those months ago. He said that Callum must have loved the army. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Of course aspects of it he enjoyed immensely, but using it to run away wasn’t the answer, it just deepened his pain.

His whole life, sex had been this confusing jumbled enigma. It seemed so easy to some people; they saw someone they fancied and slept with them. For Callum though, it was this shadow chasing him his whole life, this mystery that everyone else seemed to know the answer to but him. He wanted to, but not with anyone he was supposed to.

He hadn’t wanted to with Whitney that first time either, but he explained to himself that he was so set in his ways that he could live without it. They’d slept together and it had been fine. He’d lost his virginity and nothing bad had happened. It felt good. A year later in the park, he’d first been with Ben and he understood the difference. There wasn’t the cliched fireworks and cupid’s arrows flying about all over the place. It had just felt wholly better to any experience he had with Whitney. Sex had been like eating without any taste buds. It took away the hunger and served a functional purpose. With Ben that night, it was like they had suddenly started working and the sensations were overwhelming on his palate. He didn’t have to take him mind to a different place. To be there alone with someone, fully focused on them was an intensity he didn’t know he was capable of having.

“No, you were my first. You were also the only person who I ever told about that. I didn’t lie,” he confided to her.

“Well then, you’re going to have to make it really clear for me Callum,” she said, starting to wander around the room with frustration. “You waited until well into your twenties to have sex for the first time, but couldn’t make it six months into our marriage until you went and got it somewhere else.”

“Whit, if we could just sit down and I’ll explain,” Callum begged. If he could just get her to be quiet and stop with the questions, he knew he could explain it properly. He wished Ben was here to sit next to him. He patted his pocket to feel for the keyring, needing to have him close in some way. It wasn’t there.

“Is it me? Do you think there’s more attractive girls out there?” she asked, tearing up. “Is it that I’m not good enough in bed and you wanted to try out another girl to see if it could be better?

Callum ran his hands through his hair, making it fall out of place, but he couldn’t think about that now. “No, please, it’s not that at all. You’re the best woman I’ve ever known.”

“Did you just get too pissed and not know what you were doing?” she suggested, like she wanted that to be the answer. Callum wondered what men who had got into that position would say. When confronted by their wife or girlfriend, how did they explain making that mistake. He couldn’t relate to it; what he and Ben had that was never a mistake. Even that first time in the park, there wasn’t any part of him that regretted it.

Sighing at her relentless wandering and questions, he just wished she would sit down so he could say what he needed to. Perhaps all those times he rehearsed would help and he’d be able to get all his thoughts out in one in a way she could understand. “I knew what I was doing.”

“So, you just deliberately went out one night knowing that you were going to cheat,” she said accusingly. It wasn’t like that either. That night in the park, he’d been more frightened that Ben was going to out him than the thought of anything else. He couldn’t say he hadn’t wanted to, that week before when he had Ben pressed up against the door, the fire and pride radiating from the other man’s whole body, Callum couldn’t help but be pulled in for a second, as much as he tried to resist. That moment of weakness, that second of lust was ultimately what led them all here.

“Please just sit down, Whit,” he pleaded again. The pacing, the relentless pacing, always came before the anger. Before the shouting, before the striking, before the words of contempt.

“You’re just going to admit that one day you decided you weren’t getting what you needed with me, so you went out knowingly to shag some other bird,” she said, stopping for a moment to pick at an ornament on the Carter’s Christmas tree. The decorations cluttering the room seemed ridiculous, all glitter and gold while he was in the process of breaking a heart.

“I didn’t know it was going to happen,” he answered quietly. He didn’t, not till the moment Ben put his hand on his cheek and then he’d never wanted anything more. He wouldn’t have been able to stop himself even if he had been able to.

“Oh, make up your mind Callum. First, you said you didn’t know what you were doing and now-“

“Just stop Whit!” he shouted, causing her to knock an ornament off the tree. It shattered as it hit the floor. “Stop, please!” His head couldn’t take it any longer; he thought it would be easy once he’d taken the first step to tell her, but it was so much harder. Every moment was like jumping over a ravine with sharp fanged monsters waiting hungrily beneath.

She sat down on the floor, tears falling freely, as she picked up the pieces of the broken decoration. Callum hadn’t meant to shout at her, he didn’t want to become that person he knew too well. He tentatively went to sit by her, picking at one of the pine needles on the lower branches.

He heard Whitney take a few big breaths, trying to control her sobs enough to get her words out. “We can get through this,” she said quietly, brushing the tears from her face, leaving a ghosted river where her make-up had run. “It’s not going to be easy and frankly I don’t want to see you right now. We can get past it though. It was one mistake.”

There was silence in the room then. Outside he could hear a few fireworks in the distance and the cheering and singing of a few people making their way home for the evening. Strangely enough, this was the first moment of the day where it actually felt like Christmas for him. Sitting in the dark, listening to other people’s merriment.

“It weren’t just once,” he said, correcting her.

Whitney gave a groan of disgust. “I don’t want to hear the details! You think I’m really interested in home many times you screwed some tart in one night?”

“It weren’t just one night,”” Callum said quietly.

“It happened more than once? With the same person?” she asked slowly, as if he’d confused her. Callum nodded. “But you said that it was just some girl you met on a night out.”

“No, you said that,” Callum replied. This was the thing about Whitney, she could just build a whole world in her head and ignore everything falling down around her. He supposed they were similar in that way.

She started to pick pieces of broken plastic out of the carpet harshly with her fingers. “How many times then?” she asked, her voice veiled with anger.

“I don’t know,” he replied, though he knew that wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

“Well, what was it? Two? Five? Ten?” she asked, standing back up. “How many nights did you spend in someone else’s bed?”

“I don’t know!” he replied, loudly. “I lost count.”

Callum had counted at the beginning, though he would never reveal that to Ben. Every time felt special and something that should be observed and remembered. Eventually though, it all blurred into one, even when they were apart, he was thinking about what they had done or what he wanted them to do. It wasn’t a set of separate events. They were interlinked to become their life.

Realisation began to finally dawn on Whitney and tears began to fall again at her eyes. “This weren’t some stupid mistake you regretted, was it?” she said, her voice muffled by the sobs. “This was an affair.”

Callum nodded, though he hated that word. An affair to him was lewd and emotionless. He didn’t want to call it that.   “I’m sorry, Whit I wanted to-“

“Stop saying you’re sorry!” she shouted, clearly frustrated at the new revelation. “You obviously ain’t sorry if you can’t even remember how many times it happened!! You didn’t repeatedly fall over on top of her!”

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” he clarified, pleased to finally say the words. That was one regret he did have. It would have been a lot easier if he’d told her all those months ago.

“Is it over?” she asked. Callum could almost read a hint of optimism in her voice, like perhaps there could still be hope for them after all.

Callum looked at her, not wanting her to have any doubt or give her any more false hope. “No, it’s not.”

Whitney looked at him with her bloodshot eyes and gave an unexpected wry chuckle. “Well at least I know why you couldn’t get it up with me, you’ve been wearing yourself out while I’ve been away caring for my mother.”

“That’s not it,” Callum replied. He needed to tell her about Ben, he needed to make her understand that it was nothing she was missing or had done wrong. That it was all him.

“Wait a second, if it ain’t some random tart, then is it someone I know?” Whitney asked, a realisation suddenly dawning on her face.

Callum’s silence was all the confirmation she needed. He tried to say the words, but nothing was coming out.

“It all falls into place now!” she said, starting to pace again. “You don’t even have to tell me. I knew there was something up when you came from Ian’s yesterday! It didn’t click when he said it earlier, but they took Lexi out all day. She wouldn’t have been there. I can’t believe I was so blind.”

Before Callum could respond, Whitney got up and left the room, striding purposefully back downstairs. He ran after her, calling her name, but she just continued on. He didn’t like this; he didn’t know what she was going to do and say.

As they got further downstairs, he could hear the bustle of the bar again. Clearly the outburst from earlier hadn’t made much of a difference to the atmosphere, only possibly fuelled it even further.

Whitney burst through into the pub, the door almost hitting Calum on the rebound. He wasn’t sure where she was going or why she suddenly stormed down here rather than continue to question him. As they entered the bar, he saw everyone stop, glasses being lowered and the chatter quieting down. There was some party song ringing out, a Christmas number one from years before he was even born.

“You alright, Whit?” Stacey asked, standing and putting a hand on her shoulder as the other woman stopped at the bar. Everyone could clearly see she had been crying.

Whitney started to glance around the pub, stopping when something caught her eye. “I need a drink,” she replied calmly, tapping on the bar. Callum didn’t know what to do. He just hovered at the doorway and tried to ignore the dirty looks he was getting. He noticed a few people had already gone. Max and Jack weren’t sitting at the table any longer and Shrimpy wasn’t propping up the bar. Perhaps it was over for the night. Maybe Whitney had heard enough and just wanted to spend a few moments with her friends. He was thankful that Bianca wasn’t back in the bar, knowing what she was capable of doing.

“Linda,” Kat called, signalling to the woman behind the bar. “Get a G&T for Whit.”

The landlady nodded cautiously and started to pour the drink. Whitney just stood by the Slaters calmly, not looking at anyone or anything. There was an uneasiness in the room again.

“We should probably get off, soon,” Jean said, the awkwardness of the silence clearly unnerving her, as she started to pull her coat on. “That James Bond film starts in a few minutes. I’ll never know what happens if I miss the start.”

“The same that happens in all of them,” Mo replied knowingly, motioning to stand up. “He jumps off or out of something and then has a go at some bird in a bikini. It ain’t rocket science, Jean.”            

“Cheers, Linda,” Whitney said, as she was passed the drink. Callum expected her to down it, maybe to help with the shock, but instead she started to walk over to the other side of the pub. Her face wasn’t revealing anything as she stopped in front on one of the tables. He was startled when she swiftly lifted her arm and deposited the drink on the person in front of her.

“What the hell did you do that for?” Lola exclaimed, as she tried to wipe the drops out of her eyes.

Whitney slammed the glass back on the bar. “I thought you might need cooling down a bit, seems as you’ve spent the last few months fucking my husband.”

“Sit back down, Jean, Daniel Craig can wait,” Mo said, ushering her relative back in her seat.

“What are you on about, Whit? I mean, I know you’ve had a shock, but that don’t mean I won’t drag you out of here by your hair!” Lola gritted out, getting up to face the other lady.

“You really going to stand there and deny it?” she called back, sizing up the younger woman. “That peroxide affected your memory as well as your morals has it?”

Lola scoffed out a laugh. “You really think I’d look twice at him? What would I want your knock offs for?”

Callum wasn’t quite sure why Lola was now suffering at the hand of his wife, but he knew he had to stop Whitney. She clearly wasn’t going to believe Lola and this could only escalate.

“Whit, would you stop?” he said, walking to the table and motioning to grab her arm before she threw anything else about.

“Oh, that’s right,” Whitney responded resentfully. “Defend your girlfriend. I can’t say much for your taste. You might as well picked someone up from a street corner. Less chance of catching something.”

“Just leave them, Whit,” Stacey replied. “If he’s foolish enough to give you up for someone like her, then he’s welcome.”

“Thanks for that Stace,” Lola shouted back. “Did Martin have the same attitude when you started screwing around with Max.”

“Oh please,” Kat replied with disdain. “We ain’t saints, but it’s clear what you’re doing. You’re just looking for a new dad for your kid and thought he was a soft touch.”

“From what we heard he often is!” Mo cackled.

Callum tried to approach Whitney while the Slaters had taken over with their catcalling. He felt like a supporting character in his own story. Everyone was talking about him like he wasn’t in the room. People always did that, treated him like he wasn’t there because they knew he’d never bite back.

“Whit, it ain’t Lola!” he shouted out over the sound of the voices. The bar went quiet then, the surprise of hearing his voice so loud confounding most people into silence.

Turning around Whitney, looked at him in disbelief, like she was confused about why he was still telling her lies. “I ain’t thick, Callum. You’ve been having an affair for months and then I see you coming from her house yesterday. I know you were lying.”

“I weren’t even in yesterday, you daft cow!” Lola spluttered out, as Linda slid her a towel. Her hair was dripping wet and making a puddle on the floor

“Its true, Whit, it weren’t her,” Callum begged. The guilt hit him again as now another person’s reputation was suffering at his hand.

“You weren’t round there delivering Christmas presents, Callum. Ian was out with Lexi all day. So, who else is there? Have you been at it with Kathy?” she asked flippantly.

Callum rolled his eyes, knowing she was just lashing out. “Of course not, don’t be stupid. Can we just go somewhere else, please Whit? I’ll explain everything. It’s not Lola, just leave her alone please.”

Whitney seemed to relent then, and he could see a hint of acceptance in her eyes, turning towards him. “Well, what am I supposed to think, when you strutted out of there and lied? It would make sense that Bobby saw you and her together, he does live in the same house. How else could he know you cheated? Why else would you be round at theirs yesterday when they were all out? The only other person that lives there is Ben. You shagging him are you?” she asked sarcastically.

Callum was silent then and he immediately knew that was the wrong response. He couldn’t hold her eyes any longer, looking down at his feet, as he scuffled them lightly at the floor. The sounds of the bar rang through his ears, though quiet enough that he could still make out the gulps of drinks and the scratching of the chairs along the ground. He just couldn’t raise his eyes.

“Callum,” he heard Whitney’s voice say cautiously. “Tell me I’m being stupid.”

He couldn’t even raise his head, just carried on looking at his shoes, the frayed edges of the laces catching his eye as he tried to count the threads there. He got to twenty and then started over again. He felt a pressure on his hand and he realised Whitney was holding it. He pulled enough courage out of his body to look up.

She was smiling, but it looked strange. Her lips were upturned but with clear pain in her eyes. “C’mon, tell me I’m being ridiculous and then we can go home and talk, yeah?” she said softly, squeezing his hand.

“It’s Ben,” he muttered out, not willing to lie to her. It was like a deflation of air left his body, all the tension and secrets coming out. Finally.

“Right, time ladies and gents,” Mick called out loudly, to his relief. “Let’s all get you home to your turkey sandwiches.”

“You won’t get this is James Bond, Jean,” Kat blurted out. “Halfway could have had Pussy Galore in front of him and he still wouldn’t have risen to the challenge!”

Stacey tutted and shushed her. “Who’s that one with all the thingymabobs and pens that turn into cars?” Jean asked. “I think he and James would make a nice couple. I mean he’s not found a woman to settle down with, has he? They’d be good on Dragon’s Den together.”

No one looked like they were moving to leave. “C’mon please,” Linda called out, ringing the bell. “You’ve all got homes to go to. Don’t make me chuck you out.”

Callum noticed that Whitney still had her fingers encased in his, her hand had slackened though. Her face was still, like she had a million thoughts running through her head that wouldn’t quite come into focus. A few people started to move, slowly though as if they were waiting for an eruption.

There was singing from outside ringing in the distance, the pub still being quiet enough to hear the noise from the Square. The voice started to get closer and closer, until the door to the pub swung open.

“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, but the very next day you gave it away. This year to save me from tears I’ll give it to someone special," Kathy sang as she danced through the door, a piece of tinsel festively hanging around her neck. She was clearly quite inebriated and enjoying the day. “Blimey, it’s quiet in here!”

Although making a spectacle of herself, no one in the pub had their eyes on her, instead choosing to focus on the person standing to her right whose smile quickly dropped when they saw the scene in front of them.

Whitney’s grasp slipped from Callum’s fingers and her face hardened as she and Ben glared at each other.

Chapter Text

The whole bar watched closely as Whitney strolled over to where Ben was standing. All around there was silence as people watched in anticipation of what was about to unfold. There was a sense of voyeurism to it; everyone poised and salivating at the jaws to see someone’s life fall apart. Whitney didn’t disappoint. She raised her hand to strike Ben’s cheek so quickly that a whipping sound echoed through the air.

Before her fingers could make contact, Ben’s hand shot up to tightly grip her wrist. “Now, now, Whit. That is a temper. Someone not get a kiss under the mistletoe?” he replied with a smirk, narrowing his eyes at her.

Whitney heaved her hand out of his grasp, continuing to glare at him, but still not uttering a word.

“What you doin’ that for?” Kathy asked, stumbling closer and turning to face her son. “What you done to her?”

“Oh, she’s not the one I’ve done anything to,” Ben clarified. “It’s what I’ve been doing to someone else that’s got her mad. Ain’t that right, Whit?

Mick started ringing the bell loudly, rubbing his forehead with a large exhale. “Right, last time of asking. Hop it, all of you!”

It felt like the moment was frozen in time for Callum. Whitney’s stillness unnerved him. He knew her well enough to know her moods. She could be incessant sometimes, continually asking if everything was ok, explaining that she only wanted to help. Every time just served as a reminder to Callum that she didn’t understand him enough though to recognise that he’d never respond to that method. There had been a few occasions though, when he knew she was really upset with him. She would say nothing, force him out and ignore him until he could work out a way to make it up to her with a lie.

Callum took in Ben’s demeanour too. He was smirking with a grin that didn’t reach the rest of his face. His eyes were narrowed and his hands were firmly in the pockets of his jacket. Callum knew this attitude too. He was annoyed and revved up. Looking for a fight, or at least receptive to one.

The crowds in the Vic were shuffling out slowly, hoping to see some more action before they were forced out the door. Ben and Whitney weren’t giving them what they wanted though, standing opposite each other like they were two gunslingers waiting for high noon. Callum could only watch, remaining with one hand on the bar as if it would provide him with protection.

Soon only a few of the Slaters, Ian and Kathy remained. “Will someone please tell me what’s goin' on here?” Kathy asked, confused about the situation she had stumbled onto.

“Ian, take ya mother home, yeah?” Mick pleaded, leaning against the wall with his head in his hands.

“I ain’t leaving!” Kathy remarked stubbornly. “I’m not leaving my son here so she can try and claw him again!"

Ben looked towards his mother then, his face softening. He walked towards her and put a gentle arm around her shoulders. “Go with Ian, yeah? Help Lola put Lexi to bed, Mum. Give her a kiss from me and tell her I’ll be home soon.”

Her son’s response seemed to placate Kathy and she started to stagger out of the pub, Ian following her shaking his head.

When the door slammed shut, Mick signalled towards the Slaters. “You and all Kat. Off you pop, darlin’!’” he ordered.

Kat pulled a face of disagreement and put her hands on her hips. “No, I’m not goin nowhere!” she cried. “We ain’t leaving her here alone.”

“Stacey can stay,” Linda said quickly. Callum looked towards her, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes.  “It don’t need both of you.”

As if to force the situation, Mick went and opened the door, looking towards Kat as if silently willing her to leave. She seemed to sense that she wasn’t going to win the argument. Kat strutted towards the door, giving Whitney a stroke of the arm and throwing a snarl at Callum. She purposefully knocked into Ben as she flounced past him, but he barely even flinched from his position. Once she had exited the door, Mick loudly bolted it behind her.

“Right Stace, there’s a vegetable knife with your name on it, sweetheart,” Mick said clapping his hands together. “How about giving us a hand to prep some of the grub for tomorrow. Elle, you’ve been demoted to sous chef, my darling.”

“I really think we should stay here, Mick,” Linda replied, unsubtly gesturing towards the standoff. “I’d like to have some of the pub left standing before the night’s through!”

“I’ll tell you what, any major destruction and I’ll invoice them,” he replied, leading his wife by the shoulders towards the kitchen. “C’mon Stace, those spuds won’t peel themselves!”

When the three of them left the bar, there was still no movement. Ben and Whitney seemed to be waiting for the other to strike first. Callum didn’t know how they could bear it and he certainly couldn’t stand it for a moment longer.

“Whit-“ Callum whispered, trying to get her attention.

“How’d you do it?” she asked suddenly, aiming her question towards Ben. “What did you do to him that forced him into your bed?”

Ben didn’t answer at first, he just strolled further in the pub, pulled off his jacket and took a seat at a table calmly. Then he turned towards Callum, his eyes wide and jaw set. “Is that what you told her? That I forced you to shag me?”

“He ain’t said anything yet,” Whitney hissed, taking a seat opposite Ben. “I want to hear it from you.”

Ben hadn’t moved his eyes, he was still looking towards him and for a minute Callum thought he could see the pretence drop, a frown of concern and worry covering his face. It didn’t last for long though, the mask well and truly layering Ben’s expression as he twisted towards Whitney. Callum hadn’t wanted everything to turn out like this. He had just wanted to sit his wife down so he could explain it properly.

“Bit sadistic, isn’t it?” Ben replied. “Wanting to hear all the ways I’ve had your husband. I’m not one to judge if that rattles your chains, but I ain’t about to jump in for a threesome. I don’t do birds. Oh, and neither does Callum by the way.”

“He ain’t gay,” Whitney replied confidently, shaking her head in disgust at the comments.

“Ain’t he?” Ben asked mockingly. “Oh well that’s cleared that one up. I guess he gives all his male mates a hug while being start naked with a boner, does he?”

“We have slept together too you know,” Whitney replied. “We are married. Just because you’ve got your dirty claws into him, it don’t change the fact that he stood up in front of a group of people and promised to be with me forever. It don’t change the fact he’s been sleeping with me for the past year and a half.”

“It don’t change the fact he was thinking about cock when he was doing it,” Ben retorted back spitefully.

“Ben!” Callum scolded. He’d told that to Ben in confidence. It was never meant to be used as a weapon against Whitney

Once night, he could see Ben was getting jealous, looking at the bed in Callum’s flat with a hurt in his eyes. He understood how hard it must be for him sometimes, having to contain himself and not be open when he’d spent so long overcoming that. Ben would have to listen to everyone comment on how much Callum must be missing Whitney and how they were a perfect couple.

That evening he’d pulled Ben down on the bed eagerly, pressing their bodies together and covering every inch of the other man’s with his mouth. When Callum reached his ear, he littered whispers of how it was only Ben that could make him feel like this and confessed how he always thought of him when he was with Whitney. They were both drunk, and the situation could have gone the other way if Ben’s temper had flared up. That night though, fuelled by whisky it seemed to spur him on and he encouraged Callum to whisper out all the fantasies he had to help him in his marriage bed.

“What about before me?” Ben had asked, once they were laying still, Callum’s head resting on his chest.

“I don’t remember my life before you,” Callum had answered. It wasn’t just words. He tried to think of moments when he didn’t know him, but they felt like snapshots and photographs with no feelings and emotions attached.

“Sentimental prick!” Ben had replied, tugging at Callum’s hair before returning to stroke his fingers through it. “Seriously though, did you just lie back and think of Britain? Serving Queen and country and all that.”

He’d confided in Ben then. He’d told him that he had always thought of men when he and Whitney had sex. He told him that he’d never been able to sleep with women before. All the secrets he had kept, he confided in the other man. It felt luxurious to have a confident who understood, who didn’t make him ashamed or feel different.

“Well, he was with me last night, weren’t he? He didn’t choose to spend the evening with you, it was me he was kissing,” Whitney replied, trying to get the upper hand.

“Do you want to know where his mouth was an hour before it was on your lips?” Ben quipped with a laugh.

“Ben!” Callum shouted again. He didn’t want this to end up with their relationship being thrown in Whitney’s face. It wasn’t fair on her and he didn’t want his and Ben’s connection to be cheapened to a series of retorts. That wasn’t what it was.

“What Callum?! What?” Ben spat out in his direction. “Cause I’m not hearing you rush to my defence here. In fact, you ain’t saying a lot at all!”

“Stop having a go at her,” Callum replied insistently, knowing the words came out wrong as soon as they left his lips. He just wanted the back biting to stop and he knew Ben was trying to deliberately rile them both. That’s what he did; he pushed and pushed until someone shoved back.

“Me having a go at her?” Ben asked incredulously. “She’s the one that’s accused me of forcing myself into you.”

“She ain’t done nothing wrong!” he replied. He couldn’t sit here and criticise Whitney when he’d been lying to her for months and humiliated her in front of her family.

“Oh and I have, is that it?” Ben replied standing up. “She’s the pure young bride while I’m your dirty bit on the side?”

“That ain’t what I meant,” Callum said, shaking his head. “I just want you to stop getting on at her; it’s not helping.” He just wanted Ben to calm down. He was like a wounded animal that would just keep lashing out. Callum didn’t understand it. Whitney knew and they could be together. There was no need to rub it in her face.

“No, you’re absolutely right,” Ben replied irately. He sat back down on his seat. “I’m not letting her speak. C’mon then Whit, you wanted to question me. Ask away.”

“Maybe if I could explain?” Callum started. He didn’t think any good could come from the two of them talking to each other any more. It was his life, his feelings that needed to be spoken about. Instead they were just being shoved aside like they had the rest of his life.

“No, I’ve heard enough from you at the moment,” Whitney interrupted, pointing at Callum but still turning all her attention towards Ben. “Why him?”

Ben lent back then, folding his arms. “You just don’t get it, do you?” he laughed. “I didn’t hunt him down. There’s loads of other men I could have with a swipe of my finger.”

Callum’s heart dropped at that, the comment feeling like he’d been hit in the gut. Almost instinctively Ben realised the intonation of his words and turned towards him. There wasn’t any softness in his voice though. “I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it!”

Whitney gave a wry chuckle and looked back between them both. “This ain’t real, you know that right? You can’t even be in the same room for two seconds without arguing with each other.” She leaned back, taking the same stance as Ben. “Do ya know what, I think I understand.”

“Oh yeah?” Ben said turning his attention back to the woman. “Care to share your wisdom with the whole class?

“He’s been under a lot of pressure, what with everything to do with army and all that trouble with Stuart last year. Not to mention his dad coming back. Then with all the chaos of the wedding and me going off to Bianca. It’s obvious, ain’t it?”

“Whit that weren’t-“ Callum started, trying to correct her assessment. He’d felt this way for a long time, longer than he’d been on the square or in the army.

 “What’s obvious?” Ben said interrupting him and chewing at his lip a little. Callum knew that meant he was feeling defensive.

“This ain’t anything meaningful. He’s just been struggling. I’m the one that understands and is there for him. He’s not known what to do when I’ve been gone,” Whitney replied confidently, tilting her body forward to get closer. “You’re a just a distraction, darling.”

Ben leaned back across the table. “No, you’re a beard, sweetheart.”

“C’mon, he’s got well into his twenties and managed to never fall for a guy. Do you think you’re so irresistible that he just couldn’t wait to drop his trousers? He’s been struggling mentally, and I didn’t see it and this is how it shows itself. He couldn’t cope when I was gone.”

“Could we just maybe go upstairs-“ Callum started again.  He wanted her to understand that he had always struggled because of his attraction to men, not the other way around.

Ben opened his eyes wide. “Really? That’s what he told you is it? That it started when you went away?”

“Yeah,” replied Whitney, eyeing him suspiciously. “That’s what you said, ain’t it Callum?”

“No!” he shouted. He was getting annoyed that they were just controlling the conversation and his motives without consulting him. He’d had too much of his life being spoken about as if he wasn’t there. Now it was happening with the two people he was closest to in the world. “You weren’t listening!”

“Oh great! Another lie,” Whitney muttered, with a roll of her eyes. “You’re really full of them, aren’t you? When was it then?”

“Before we got engaged,” he muttered, knowing how it sounded. There was no covering or making excuses. He cheated on her, and worse he used her to run away and hide from his own feelings.

“And when he says ‘before’, he ain’t being vague,” Ben added. “It was the night before. I must have knocked some sense into him. Or would that be banged it out of him?”

“Ben, would you just go please!” Callum shouted out, stilling the conversation. A little bit of intrigue leapt into Whitney’s eye and he couldn’t help but feel sickened by the situation. They were both so busy bickering and fighting, trying to score points.

Ben looked at him then, the hurt in his eyes not even slightly veiled anymore. “What?” he asked, as if checking he heard the right thing.

“I think you should just leave for now,” he suggested, softer this time, but it didn’t make any difference. He may well have punched Ben in the gut by the look on his face. It wasn’t that Callum didn’t want him here, he just couldn’t say what he needed to when the other man was in this mood. He needed Whitney to listen and hear him, not try and fight his way through scathing barbs.

Ben got up from the seat silently, pulling on his leather jacket. “Yeah, of course. I wouldn’t want to be a third wheel between you and your wife,” he muttered, not even looking at Callum as he headed towards the door.

“Ben,” Callum called, but he already had his back turned to him and was walking away.

“Try not to steal anyone else’s husband on the thirty-foot walk to your door!” Whitney called out. The fact that Ben didn’t respond worried Callum. He would always want the last word, especially in a situation like this. He just unlocked the bolt on the door and quietly left.

The bar was silent for a minute, though he thought he could hear Linda and Stacey’s voices from the kitchen. Knots formed in his stomach just thinking about it; he assumed he would be the subject of that conversation. It made his skin scuttle and crawl to think of people trying to get into his head. Perhaps Linda may even be protecting him a little, but how could she really? What he had done was indefensible.

“You disappeared that night,” Whitney said, breaking the silence and cracking into his thoughts. “We were all at the club and then Ben went, and then me and Rubes were having cocktails. I turned around to look but I couldn’t see you.”

“Yeah,” he replied curtly. It had been risky, to disappear that night. He just knew he had to talk to Ben alone. When Callum had sent the message, he was a little surprised when Ben immediately got up and went to the door. He thought he would text back some snarky comment, or just slip his phone back in his pocket and carry on his drink, throwing Callum a look of rejection.

Ben had caught his eye as he went to the door, a little nod of acknowledgement sent his way, Callum remembered how his body felt then, excitement and lust filling and pulling from just a look.  He was making a habit of this; there was something about Ben that just meant it was harder to hide. He had quickly turned his head around and looked at Jay, but his friend was paying attention to his drink and didn’t seem to notice anything.

Callum had made his excuses about ten minutes later. It had taken him that long to get up the courage to actually leave the club. He’d been weighing everything up in his head, unsure about what he was going to say when he got there. Ben being so understanding and open when they were standing at the bar had unnerved him a little. He kept seeing of these different sides of him. It was playing with his head.

A wash of anger had rushed over him when he saw Ben standing in the park, thinking about how easily one word muttered by Ben in the wrong direction could blow his life apart. He just wanted it all to stop. It was like have a pipe with a leak in it and he kept on patching it up, but the water would still spring from elsewhere. It panicked him, how much he was struggling to keep his secrets recently. It had always been hard, but now it was becoming impossible.

The anger had quickly receded when Ben started talking. Callum didn’t quite understand why the other man kept being so open with him about his feelings. They had practically been strangers just a week before. Why was he telling him about his life? It was infectious though, this trust that Ben put in him and he couldn’t help but let slip his own secrets, ones he’d never told anyone.

Ben hadn’t reacted the way he thought he would. He expected a biting comment or the roll of the eyes, especially after Callum had basically threatened him. Suddenly though, he had seen a hand appear by his cheek; soft, inviting and accepting.

“So you were with him?” Whitney asked, biting her lip. He knew she was trying to keep herself from crying again. “Where?”

“I met him in the park,” Callum replied. He knew his answers were never going to be ones she accepted. He could never tell her what she wanted to hear.

“I meant where did you go to humiliate me behind my back?” Whitney asked. That wasn’t what Callum wanted her to think. That night was special; it hadn’t been about anyone else. “Creep off to our flat did you? Or try and sneak past Kathy and Ian watching cooking shows on the sofa?”

“No, we stayed at the park,” he clarified. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, but it was like being caught up in a tornado. He couldn’t have stopped and gone anywhere else. Thinking back, it had been risky, anyone could have walked by. It wasn’t something that had worried him at that moment. It was as if all the fear, the hiding, the secrets and the lies had just dropped away.

He could tell that wasn’t an answer that Whitney liked. “You won’t even sleep with me on top of the covers, but you’re happy to cheat on me in a public park with Ben Mitchell?”

“It weren’t like that,” Callum replied, trying to explain. “It weren’t planned, it just happened.”

“Right, so every time we sleep together you’re so disgusted by the thought that you have to prepare yourself for it,” she said, offended by the thought. “That what happened last night?”

“I’m sorry about that,” he replied. He genuinely didn’t want to upset her, it just felt like a betrayal if he were to sleep with her. “I didn’t want to ruin Christmas.”

Whitney threw her head back and laughed, the sound harsh with sobs and tears. “Good job on that! You really think I’m going to be able to spend any Christmas now without remembering this day? You know I thought I had terrible taste in men, but Ben? Really?”

Callum knew that’s what the whole square were thinking around now. They would be full of theories and speculation. As much as he hated that, he didn’t want to correct them. What they had was between them, it was no one else’s business. “I just really like him, Whit,” he replied, hoping it would be enough.

“You ain’t been here long enough, Callum!” Whitney said, more than a hint of condescension. “You’ve been taken in by him. He’s strolled back here a few months ago with his witty comebacks and making a show of being the doting dad to Lexie, but it’s all an act.”

“I know him,” he replied confidently.

“No you don’t,” she said forcefully. “Did you know he’s been inside twice? First for battering a boy when he was just a kid, and then for killing Shirley’ best mate?”

“Yeah, of course,” he confirmed. Ben had spoken to him about what he’d done, but of course he’d heard about it first. Callum never asked him why, because he didn’t need to. He understood what had led him to those actions. It wasn’t like he excused them, he just understood what it was like to be in such a dark place that you lash out before thinking through the consequences. It wasn’t like he was a saint himself. He’d shot Mick, and perhaps that had come from fear and fright more than temper, but the reasons behind it were the same. He never meant to hurt him. If the gun had been angled a little differently then he may have ended up inside too.

“Did he tell you what he did to poor Abi, stringing her along, then humiliating her? Although I suppose you can relate to that one,” Whitney muttered coldly. Ben had told him about Max’s daughter too. He had told him about how he wasn’t proud of that time in his life. Callum had understood a little, it wasn’t a million miles away from what he had been doing, but he had honestly convinced himself that he wanted to be with Whitney. He was almost able to fool himself as well as everyone else.

“Did he tell you about Abi sleeping with Lee and what happened?” she said tearing up. She couldn’t hide it this time and drops fell in quick succession onto her cheeks. He wanted to comfort her then, put his arm around her and tell her everything would be ok. That would be another lie though. Nothing could make right what happened with Lee. Ben had some responsibility in that as well but Callum knew he was lost then. He knew how that felt. Even if he did try and comfort Whitney, he wasn’t sure she’d accept, and he really wouldn’t blame her.

“I know about everything,” he confessed. Nothing could be kept a secret in this neighbourhood, he’d heard all sorts of mutterings when working behind the bar at the Vic.

“Then how could you have been with him. He’s evil!” she shouted. “He might not look it, swaggering around here like he owns half the square, but he’s rotten on the inside!”

“No, he ain’t!” Callum replied. “He’s messed up, maybe, but so am I!  You just didn’t see it, Whit. You didn’t want to.”

Whitney drew back then, folding her arms. “So now its my fault you dropped to your knees for the local murderer?”

“No, none of this is your fault,” he said softly. “I do love you. Just not in the way you want me to. I didn’t mean to fall for Ben. I tried not to, but I couldn’t help it.”

“What about us?” she asked. “You’re not going to fight for us so we can get past this?”

“I will always fight for you to be in my life,” he answered, meaning every word. “But I don’t want to get past Ben. I want to be with him.”

“You know, of all the fellas that have broken my heart, and there’s been more than a few, this hurts the most. Do you know why?” Whitney asked. “Because you’re the one that everyone said never would.”

Callum nodded then not knowing what to say. He couldn’t deny it. He knew that people would have told her that no matter what else, he would be stable and loyal, like some loving labrador. That’s what Whitney wanted most of all and he understood that. The need to have a loving relationship and family, something stable, especially after her past. However, just because you want something bad enough it doesn’t make it true. It’ll just slip out of your hands, turning into a pile sand.

“Stace!” Whitney called out suddenly. “I’m ready to go!”

Callum wondered if he should stop her, get her to talk some more, make her understand his point of view. Then he realised. All these months he was hoping for something that wasn’t going to happen. There never had been a way to tell her that would end happily. His ridiculous mind had just hoped it would if he went through enough scenarios. Like all those Christmas ago, he always wanted it to be different; wishing that he’d have a day like his mates did, with presents and laughter. That never happened, though year after year he still foolishly hoped.

“You alright, Whit?” Stacey enquired, coming back into the bar. She fiercely stared at Callum, enough to make him drop his stare to his hands. “Need me to do anything?”

There was a slight edge to Stacey’s voice that suggested he could have sixty kilos of Slater flying at him within the next few seconds. “No, I just wannna go home, Stace.”

Callum didn’t look up as both women made their way towards the door. He didn’t say goodbye and neither did she. It would be a hollow phrase after everything that had happened.  To just finish two years of history, a relationship, a marriage, a life and the potential of so much more, with just one word seemed petty and insignificant.

It felt surreal, that he’d actually told her, that she knew and it was done. It didn’t seem like he had expected. There was a little less weight hanging off his shoulders, a few of the monsters within him were defeated. Their disappearance was barely noticeable over the introduction of the new creatures attacking his insides. The evening hadn’t gone as planned, to say the least.

A glass of whisky suddenly appeared on the table in front of him. “Here ya are. Get that down your neck,” Mick said, taking the seat Whitney had just vacated, placing his own glass down too.

Callum didn’t realise how much his hands were shaking until he picked the drink up and the amber liquid started rocking in the glass. He took a long sip, the liquid warming his throat and falling into his empty stomach. “I’m sorry, Mick.”

“Well I’ve just had to spend half my Christmas night stuck in a kitchen with two women stabbing knives into a bit of broccoli like a scene from Psycho, but I’ll forgive ya lad.” The landlord leaned back and folded his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me? You know I’m always here for you.”

“I didn’t know how,” Callum confessed. There hadn’t been some handbook on coming out to your nearest or dearest. He was constantly second guessing himself, wondering what people would think. For every time he thought about telling Mick and it going well, there were a dozen more thoughts of rejection and disgust. “Did you know?”

“I knew something was up with you, Halfway,” he replied, nodding. “I’ve known you for too long. You always had the same look as a kid as well, when you was hiding something. I had my suspicions about it. I went through the same thing with Johnny.”

“But you didn’t know for sure?” Callum asked, curiously.

“It all clicked together when Bobby opened his gob. You wandering around for months like you got ten tonne of brick on your shoulders. All that gaff with the army. The fact that Ben Mitchell follows you around like the sun shines from your backside,” Mick replied. “Oh and the bit of carved artwork currently gracing the bogs that’s got your initials on it; that was a bit of a scooby, ya donut!”

Callum huffed a laugh then. They thought nobody would notice. They weren’t as good as hiding as they thought. “I’ve messed everything up, Mick.”

“You don’t want to worry about the raff around here,” Mick replied. “They’ll give ya a few butchers for a couple a days then they’ll move on to the next drama. Whitney won’t hate you forever.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Callum admitted. He couldn’t see her wanting to sit down with him for a drink anytime soon.

“What about your boy? Where’d he go off to?” Mick asked, taking a sip of his own drink.

“Well I messed things up there too,” Callum sighed. Now Whitney had gone, the guilt over how he had spoken to Ben seemed to increase.

“Nahh,” Mick replied confidently. “Give him some time to cool off, he’ll be sweet by the morning.”

“I hope so,” he confessed. He swirled the contents of the glass around and then downed it quickly into his throat. “Mick, would it be okay if…I mean if it’s alright with Linda…”

“You’re family Halfway,” he said shaking his head and motioning to stand up. “You can stay as long as you like. Don’t be up too late. Get some kip, yeah? Been a long day. There’s a bit of turkey goin’ in the fridge if you get peckish. I wouldn’t touch any of the hacked up veg though. You don’t want to eat a plate of Stacey’s anger.”

He smiled back at his friend. “I’m good, Mick. Thanks.”

The landlord gave him a grin and an affectionate rub of his hair before making his way through the bar. Callum heard his steps plod up the stairs. Linda must have gone to bed already. Tina and Shirley had disappeared after lunch, going out for the night. He was alone now.

He looked around at the emptiness of the bar, the location where his life seemed to implode. He never thought it would be here. The house where he grew up, overseas with the army, the registry office where they got married. There were many times in those places that he thought everything in his life would fall apart. The façade would drop for everyone to see. He never thought it would be here. This is where it all led back to though. Where the Carters first brought him in, where he lived with Whitney and where he met Ben.

There wasn’t any possibility of him going to bed now. His mind was buzzing and scrolling through memories and mistakes. Callum walked round the bar and poured himself another whisky, downing it with ease, before putting another shot in the glass. He leaned forward on the bar, resting his elbows on the polished surface and watching the lights swirling through the frosted glass of the door.

It was hypnotising, the brightness and hopefulness of the light. It didn’t quite reach him though, it was still stuck behind a layer, just the hint of peaking through. He’d had enough of watching it and stood up wandering to the door behind the bar.

The lights were on in the men’s bathroom and it was littered with glasses and half empty bottles. With everything that happened, he realised the Carters hadn’t had the opportunity to tidy up the bar properly. Another thing he could feel guilty for.

Lumbering to the ground, he put his empty hand on the floor to steady himself, as caramel liquid slipped from the glass on to his fingers in the other hand. He shuffled closer to the wall, his eyes drawn to the carving there. He traced his finger over the letters of Ben’s initials once, then again and again, as if the action would cause the man to appear in front of him.

Reaching to his pocket, he stopped halfway before realising that he didn’t have the keyring Ben had given him in there. It wasn’t there when he looked for it earlier. He didn’t have a picture of their names written together. Gulping down the rest of the whisky, he reached into his other pocket. His eyes stung and watered, perhaps due to the alcohol, but certainly absence played a part.

As reckless tear fell, he swiped it away. Callum clasped the key in his hand tightly and started scratching at the wall with harsh strokes until both his and Ben’s names appeared on the surface under the initials. He thought it would make him feel better, but as another tear fell he realised it was just a mark on a wall. It didn’t mean anything without the memories there to create it.

Mick had told him to wait until the morning, to let Whitney and Ben calm down and for things to settle. It just wasn’t something Callum wanted to do. Where had waiting got him in the past? It had just led to anger and heartbreak for everyone else. He staggered up slowly, leaning briefly against the wall. He’d made up his mind.

The Square had started to quieten down now. With people starting their drinking early in the day, most had reached the point where they were passed out of their sofas somewhere, their bellies bulging with the richness of decadent food and drink. The cool breeze sobered up Callum a little, but standing in the night air looking toward the building, he was still adamant that he was making the right decision.

Just before he took his step, a voice rang out. “Bruv!” Stuart called as he made his way across the road. “You would not believe the day I had!”

Callum felt his chest tense. His brother seemed in good spirits and clearly hadn’t heard about the incident in the Vic. “You alright Stu?” he asked, gingerly.

“You wouldn’t think it to look at them, but those old church ladies can certainly put on a meal!” he said, happily patting his stomach. “I ate so much I went for a kip and didn’t wake up till bout half hour ago! Thought I’d come for a walk to work off some that Christmas pud!”

Callum realised that when he heard his brother’s voice, he had been scared that Stuart would find out. That was almost his default reaction; to quickly think up some lie or untruth to divert people’s thoughts. He had spent so much time and effort hiding from the people in front of him. He was exhausted. “Whit…” he started, unsure what to say. “She knows about me and Ben.”

The smile disappeared quickly from Stuart’s face. “How?” he questioned, his mouth contorting into a grimace. “Do you tell her? Did he?”

“No,” Callum answered simply, before nodding to his brother, signalling his goodbye, and motioning to turn towards his destination.

“Where are you going now?” Stuart asked, grabbing Callum by the shoulder. 

“I need to apologise,” he explained, hoping that would be enough. There was only so much he wanted to let his brother know tonight. He couldn’t deal with any more anguish today.

Stuart nodded and then ran a smoothing hand down Callum’s shirt. “Yeah, course. You know where to find me if you need me, yeah? I can always help explain things to Whit.”

Callum thanked his brother with a reluctant smile and then slowly started walking. He didn’t increase his pace until he saw Stuart disappear around the corner. Striding quickly, he didn’t stop until he was standing right in front of the familiar door.

Knocking rapidly on the wooden surface, he couldn’t see any light coming through the glass. He knocked again, wanting to be certain that no one was in. Eventually, he heard the lock crack and the door open slightly, two eyes peaking out at him angrily. Before the door could slam back in his face, he put a hand out to keep it open.

“Please, Jay,” he begged the man in front of him. “I need to see him.”

His boss stared at him for a moment, before relenting and opening the door, moving aside to let Callum in. He wiped his feet on the mat before entering the dimly lit house, walking into the lounge area. He had to think carefully about where he would find Ben, but something just told him he would be with Jay. Someone who wouldn’t judge him and who understood the dynamic of their relationship.

Taking a quick look around, he took a seat on the sofa. Briefly, he wondered if Ben was really here or if Jay was just trying to distract him. Then he saw a familiar looking leather jacket resting on the arm of the couch. He reached and took the sleeve in between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing the smooth material there.

“I warned you this would happen, didn’t I?” Jay said, perching on the arm of a chair. “You two were carrying on like Whit didn’t exist. Everything was balanced on a house of cards and it’s all come crashing down!”

“I was gonna tell her tomorrow,” Callum reminded him. That had been the plan.

“There’s been a hundred tomorrows though, ain’t there?” Jay questioned, referencing the time he and Ben had spent together. “And you still didn’t tell her.”

“I was going to, Jay, I swear. I couldn’t go on any longer, anyway” Callum said. It had been eating him up every day. “I weren’t to know that Bobby would blurt it out.”

“Well, it couldn’t have been too much of a surprise, with both of you rutting around the square like you’re on heat,” Jay pointed out. “I told you that you’d be caught. I also told you not to break his heart either.”

“I haven’t!” Callum replied, though deep down he knew it had to be a little bruised.

“How do you think he feels having the whole square pointing the finger at him? He was so happy today at lunch; he wouldn’t stop looking at his phone waiting for a text from you,” Jay admitted. “If you were anyone else, I’d have walloped you by now.”

“I never wanted him or Whit to be hurt,” Callum explained.

“That’s the problem, Cal. You were trying to please everyone,” Jay replied. “Someone had to get hurt in this. You had to know that.”

“I wanted it to be me.”

Jay gave a sigh. “Well, it might turn out to be all three of you, at the very least. It ain’t been a happy Christmas for most. I got a jug of turkey gravy down my only clean pair of trousers, so tomorrow I’m going to have to meet with Mrs Charles’ children, who have driven a hundred miles to see their dearly departed mother, dressed in my trackie bottoms!” he explained. “Lola’s currently washing half a brewery out her barnet, Ian’s trying the wrench Bobby’s bedroom door off its hinges and Kathy’s passed out in a pile of drawl on the sofa. The only one who’s having a good time is Lexi. Karen shoved so much Haribo down her gob, she’s practically bouncing off the walls.”

“I don’t know what to do, Jay,” he admitted. The domino effect of his choices made the guilt rumble in his stomach even louder.

“Well you can start by talking to him, I suppose,” Jay said signalling towards his bedroom. “Go carefully though, Callum.”

“Cheers, mate,” he replied, wishing he could make it up to his friend. “I’ll go in tomorrow and meet with Mrs Charles’ family.”

Jay gave him a clap on the shoulder in thanks. Callum walked along the darkened hallway towards the closed door. He thought about knocking, but there was no point, he knew he wouldn’t get an answer. He slowly turned the door handle and stepped into the room.

There was a small lamp switched on which provided some light in the room, but it was dim, his eyes not adjusting straight away. The bed was empty, rumpled covers nestled in the centre.

“Just go away, Callum,” a voice called from the other side of the room, on the opposite side of the bed. He slowly walked around the furniture to see Ben leaning on the wall beside it. Ignoring his request, he sat on the bed, linking his hands. “Or come in and sit down anyway. What do you want?”

“I came to see if you’re alright,” he replied. “And apologise. I didn’t mean for it to sound like I didn’t want you there.”

“Well, apology not accepted, so run back home to your wife, would you?” he said, his fingers picking at the seem of a soft rabbit’s ear. Callum wasn’t sure who it belonged to, perhaps Lexi or Janet.

“Don’t be silly,” he said, trying to get some lightness in his voice. “It’s over Ben; she knows. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“What I wanted?” Ben repeated, finally looking up at Callum. He could see his eyes were red and there were still tears filling them. “You sound like her. Do you believe that I talked you into all of this too?”

Callum shook his head. “Of course, not. You know how I feel about you.”

Ben let out a chuckle and started picking with more vehemence at the thread holding the ear to the toy. “Do I really?”

“You know I want to be with you!” he insisted, wondering why Ben was choosing to ignore everything they had been through in the past few months. “I miss you when you’re not around. I know you do and all. You text me all the time saying you miss me.”

“Callum…” Ben started, shaking his head with disbelief.

“What?” he replied, confused at what was wrong with his words. He couldn’t believe that Ben was denying what they had. He knew he was angry, but it was just the two of them there.

“When I messaged you with ‘I miss you,’ it didn’t mean those actual words; you knew that right? All those times I said it, even when we were sitting in the same room?”

Callum shook his head. He didn’t understand.

“No? Why would you!” Ben spat out. “Whit was right, you know. I was just this distraction while you was waiting for her to get home. That’s why you put off telling her.”

Callum narrowed his eyes at the comment. “You agreed that we should wait to tell her.”

“I would have walked to Milton Keynes and tattooed it onto Bianca’s comatose forehead if it meant I could be with you a second sooner,” Ben replied, pulling at the rabbit’s ear now. “You’re the one who wanted to wait.”

“Whitney would have been hurt-“

“Whitney, Whitney, Whitney! All I’ve heard for months is how bloody Whitney would feel!” he shouted back, tears falling from his eyes freely. “You’ve put her high up on a golden pedestal, while you were happy to fuck me in the mud underneath.”

That wasn’t how Callum felt about him at all. “Ben-“

“I was thinking, about this guy earlier. He’s the last one I saw before you and me got together,” Ben started, sniffing loudly and wiping his eyes on his hand. “His name was Josh I think, or Jake, one or the other, can’t say I was that interested. I met him, we had a good shag and then he left. Nice and simple, satisfying and I got on with my life. What have I really got out of ‘us’ that’s been better for me than that? All you are is a pretty face with a load of broken promises.”

It felt like something had crawled into Callum’s heart and was tearing it to pieces, inch by inch. He wanted to fix everything but he didn’t know how. If only he could go back and change the past. He wished he could go back to the night before his wedding. He’d march over to Whitney and tell her about Ben.

“Maybe it was partly me, Whit could have been right there,” Ben continued. “Maybe I did pull you out of the closet before you were ready. Maybe I should have left you to become a sad, overweight, middle aged undertaker who has to suffer daily nagging from Whitney about leaving your socks on the floor while two spoiled little denim clad brats are crawling under your feet. You’d go home at night and lie about the twenty year old boy you just got to blow you down a back alley.”

Callum, felt his eyes hot and couldn’t avoid choking out a sob. “Why are you saying this?”

“Why are you doing this?” Ben shouted back. “Why are you with me when it’s clearly such a burden for you?”

“You know why. I want you and you want me,” he responded. He knew it had been hard. It had been emotional for both of them to finally get here.

Ben stood up then, throwing the rabbit onto the bed uncaringly. “I don’t want you.”

The words ricocheted into Callum’s body and he leapt up in front of Ben, grabbing on to his shoulders. “Take it back,” he begged. “You do. I know you do.”

“How would you know what I want?” Ben said, through gritted teeth, looking over to the far wall of the room.

“You’re lying,” Callum replied, gripping Ben’s shoulders tighter, as if he could fuse them to his hands.

Ben let out a snort of a laugh then. “Takes one to know one.”

Callum wanted to shake him, to make him put his hands on him, to pull him nearer and look him in the eye. He harshly pressed his forehead close to Ben’s, almost knocking them both backwards. The other man didn’t flinch away, but he didn’t move any closer to Callum either.

“Take it back, please take it back,” he pleaded and kissed Ben’s lips. There was still no response there, but he tried again. This time he felt Ben’s mouth open a little and he continued to plant messy kisses there until he felt him start to respond, pushing into Callum and moving his hands up to grasp his face.

Callum reached down pulling Ben’s shirt away from his waist, griping the flesh there eagerly and pulling him tighter into his body. Ben’s hand’s were on his arse, squeezing and gripping before moving around to pull at Callum’s buttons, his nail’s scraping harshly down his chest. As he kissed around Ben’s face, he could taste salt. Moving down to his neck, he licked and sucked there, wanting to remove any trace of his tears.

At some point they fell against the bed, landing on the mattress with a grunt. For Callum, it was a headier experience than any alcohol could offer as they ground their hips together, unwilling to stop for just a second to remove any of the restrictive clothing. Their hands were everywhere and it was the first time that day that Callum felt free. It took him a moment to realise that Ben had stopped moving.

“What’s wrong?” he asked tenderly, placing a small kiss to Ben’s cheek.

Ben’s eyes were laser focused towards the ceiling. It looked like he had a million thoughts running through his head. Without warning, he sat up, pushing Callum off him harshly and swinging his legs around to sit on the bed. “I can’t do this,” he said quietly.

Callum lifted his hand to brush Ben’s hair off his forehead. “That’s ok. We don’t have to now.”

Stopping Callum’s hand, Ben pushed it away from him. “No, I can’t do this. Us. Any of it,” he replied. “I said no second chances, Callum, and it’s been more than a few. Everyone in that pub tonight looked at me like I was some scabby perv who stole away the golden boy from his loving relationship.”

“I’ll tell them different,” Callum replied, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his emotions in check.

Ben sighed loudly then, clearly not believing his words. “You won’t, Callum. You’ll say you will and then bottle it.” he said, standing up. “I can’t be with someone who cares more about what people like Honey or Martin think than they do about their own relationship. We’re finished.”

Ben walked towards the door and Callum could only sit and watch him go. He grasped on to the little grey rabbit that lay on the bed, putting the ear back towards the head though he knew it wouldn’t stay. The seams had been unpicked and weren’t about to be easily fixed.

“Callum,” Ben’s voice said quietly. He turned his head to see the other man with his back to him, his hand resting on the door handle. “We never should have even started,” he continued, before disappearing into the darkness.

Chapter Text

Callum tapped his pen on the café table as he browsed through the page of the newspaper. After spending four nights sleeping on the Carter’s couch, he felt that perhaps he was overstaying his welcome. They would never mention it of course, but he had to be a burden to them. For his own reasons as well, he just wanted his own space where the only opportunity for isolation wasn’t on five foot of sofa at one am in the morning.

On Christmas Night, he’d sat on Jay’s bed for about ten minutes, his movements paralysed, just clutching the little grey rabbit in his hands. Eventually, the door swung open again, footsteps shuffling in quietly. He felt the mattress lower as Jay sat down next to him on the bed.

“You know what he’s like,” Jay started, in a whisper, as if he was talking to a cornered animal. “Give him a call tomorrow; he’ll have calmed down by then.”

Callum opened his mouth to speak, but that just caused the tears in his eyes to run and the cry in his throat was blocking his thoughts. “I’ve messed everything up,” he sobbed, once the words could form. “I couldn’t even do this right.”

Jay shuffled a little closer and swung his arm around Callum, squeezing comfortingly at his shoulder. “You’re being too hard on yourself,” he replied. “I mean, I won’t lie. You’ve stormed into this mess with the delicacy of a dinosaur falling down the stairs, but it’ll die down. You’re a good bloke. Apart from Bianca wanting your balls planted on a spike in the middle of the square, everyone else will forget in a few days.”

“Ben-“ he started, his voice starting to break again.

“I love him like a brother, but he’ll be mad if he let’s you go,” Jay replied knowingly. “He ain’t gonna do any better and he needs someone to keep him in check. I ain’t bloody doing it for the rest of my life! Right, c’mon, off you go before you snot anymore over my pillows.”

When he’d reached the Vic, everything was quiet. He’d borrowed a key on his way out, so he made sure he returned it to its hook before quietly creeping upstairs. Mick had left a spare duvet on the couch for him, as well as a t-shirt and some jogging bottoms. Quickly changing, he threw a couple of pillows up on the end of the sofa and lay down, pulling the blanket with him.

He looked expectantly at his phone, but there hadn’t been any texts. There weren’t many people who wanted to talk to him at the moment. He opened up his messages, scrolling through the ones he and Ben had sent to each other. He thought it would make him feel better, to remind him of everything they had. Instead he felt fruitless and unempowered, the feeling of wanting to go back in time and shake himself, to change what had happened or at least appreciate what he had while he had it. Instead he felt stuck in some terrifying limbo, where the possibility of anything getting better seemed too distant to be real, but the pain and despair of failure were an all too familiar friend.

His breathing had deepened as though he had just been for a 5K run, the air catching and expanding as tension swished and swayed through to every limb. All he wanted to do was smash open the lounge window and scream, bellow until all the toxic energy left his body, until his throat was raw and his hand bloody from gripping on to the cracked glass. After a few seconds the urge retreated a little, crawling back into the darkness of his belly to slumber until another day.

He knew he shouldn’t message Ben. It was stupid, he would not be in the mood and he wouldn’t respond. It would probably only increase his anger. For the first day in months though, he was isolated from him and he was the one person he wanted to talk to and the only one that could make Callum feel like he was understood. Before he could change his mind, he started typing.

I don’t deserve you and I know that. I miss you x

His finger lingered over the button, the thought of whether he should send the message running through his mind. Perhaps it was the alcohol or maybe it was the thought that he just didn’t have anything else to lose, but he jolted his finger forward onto the button, seeing the words move up into the conversation. He took a deep breath and then went back to the lock screen. It was a picture of him and Whitney that Bianca had taken that morning. She had insisted it was so lovely he had to have it where he could always see it, mocking him for having a picture of a football team instead. He pressed a few keys, wanting to remove the photo and the memory of today.

Shuffling down a bit, he lay his head on the pillow and put the phone facing him. He pressed a button and the screen lit up, a photo of Ben now appearing in front of him. He looked at it until the screen dimmed and the picture disappeared, encasing the room in darkness again. He waited a few seconds and then pressed the button again, the light shining into his face. Sleepily, he gave a small smile, before the image was snatched away from him for a second time. Callum didn’t remember falling asleep, but his dreams were pleasantly filled with the last face he saw.

It was an abrupt awakening the next morning and it took him several seconds to work out exactly what was going on. He must have snuggled deep under the covers during the night, as they were practically nestled over his head, with no light poking through. There was a sudden pressure on his chest though which shot his eyes open and caused him to sit up quickly.

“Halfway!” Shirley shouted, stumbling away from the sofa. The action caused him to flinch back at the sudden sound. “Why you bundled in a blanket on my sofa, you pillock?! You almost scared the ninth life out of me! Mick!”

Callum’s eyes squinted against the daylight peaking through the windows as Shirley made her way noisily out the lounge. His head felt heavy with the damage the whiskey had deposited in his body.

“Mick! What’s Halfway doing stinking up our lounge?” he heard Shirley call, as she entered the kitchen. He couldn’t hear the responses from the other Carters, just muffled murmurs of explanation. “He’s done what?”

Stomping footprints made their way back into the room. Now his eyes had adjusted, he could make out the woman standing before him clearly. She was wearing the same outfit as Callum had seen her in at yesterday lunchtime, but even more ruffled, if that was possible. Not long after, Mick came striding in, giving him a questioning smile and Linda came scuttling reluctantly after. Callum tried to meet her eyes, but she seemed to be looking everywhere but at him.

“Let’s just leave the lad alone until he’s woke up, shall we mother?” Mick asked. “He don’t need your dulcet tones screeching in his ear when he’s just got his minces open.”

Shirley seemed to ignore the request and turned towards him. “Is it true then?” she asked abruptly. “You’ve had it away with someone else and Snow White’s chucked you out?”

All Callum could do was nod in confirmation. His head was thumping and the horrid memories of yesterday came flooding back into his mind after the respite of his sweeter dreams.

“Well, who’d have thought, eh?” Shirley said, perching on the arm rest. “I was convinced you was like an Action man doll down there. Who is she then? This magical flower fairy who managed to lure you away from Little Miss Perfect?”

Callum saw Mick and Linda look at each other then. He couldn’t blame them. He could sometimes hardly believe it himself; the twists and turns his life had taken the last few months.

“I don’t think Halfway really wants to discuss this, Shirl,” Linda jumped in after a moment of quiet. “How bout I make us all a nice breakfast?”

“What you hiding?” Shirley asked, completely ignoring her daughter in law. “Who can be that bad that you ain’t telling me?”

Linda clapped her hands together. “Right, how about bacon sandwiches all around,” she offered cheerfully, before squinting towards the Christmas tree. “What’s happened to my Harrod’s crystal ornament?”

“Never mind your poxy bit of tat!” Shirely bellowed towards her. “I’m trying to get answers on who managed to get Sleeping Beauty here to drop her draws.”

There was a part of Callum that just wanted to ignore her, get up and go have a shower, telling her it was none of her business. He couldn’t run away from this though and he couldn’t hide. He didn’t want to. “It’s Ben.”

Callum waited then for the inevitable shouting, name calling and putdowns. There was silence in the room as Mick leant against the wall and folded his arms, and Linda was tactlessly checking the Christmas tree for any more missing decorations. Shirley looked at him with squinted eyes. He felt like an antelope that had just spotted a lioness prowling in the bushes.

“Are you alright?” Shirley asked softly, tilting her head to the side.

“Yeah,” he replied, surprised by her response. “I’m just, you know…”

“Well, I can’t say I’m not shocked,” she replied. “It’s a bit of a jump ain’t it? To go from princess perfect knickers to the artful dodger. Was it a one time thing?”

“No,” Callum replied. “It’s serious.” He kept the relationship in the present tense. He couldn’t bare to refer to them in the past, as if everything was over forever. He noticed Linda raise her eyebrows at his confession.

“You’ll be good for him,” Shirley replied, nodding. “Or you’ll both end up in nick! I’m not sure they’ll be much middle ground. Now get your arse off that sofa and go clean the bar!”

With that, she strutted out the room, Linda following quickly after her. It surprised him, how easy it had been and how few questions Shirley had asked. Mick had stayed behind, still leaning against the wall.

“How you feeling this morning, boy?” he asked, peering up at Callum, but not changing his stance. “I thought I heard the door late last night. How’d it go?”

“Well, I’m still here, aren’t I?” he commented, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice. He knew Mick wasn’t easily convinced. “I can’t seem to do anything right.”

“You’ll get there,” Mick said, moving up from the wall. “In the meantime, you can help me with the grub for later. Elle’s had an idea to do a pint and pie for a fiver, and we’ll have to pay the punters if my mother has a hand in making them.”

Callum took a deep breath when the other man left the room. He swung his legs round, pulling the duvet off himself. His mouth felt fuzzy, but his head was pounding even worse than before. His stomach shook and tried to restrict and throw its contents out. Luckily, nothing was filling it, so the contractions just punched harshly against his ribs. There was a beeping sound from underneath that helped distract his mind for a second.

Reaching beneath his covers, his body seemed to freeze for a moment as he realised his phone was signalling that he had a message. Everything seemed to drop down to earth though, as he read the name of the sender. Jay was reminding him to go and meet the Charles family later, saying he would leave the key under the mat if he didn’t have his. Callum didn’t have his key to the parlour; it was hanging on a hook at his flat. He didn’t think he’d need it when they left home yesterday.

Callum quickly composed a text back to Jay, acknowledging that he hadn’t forgotten. He wondered if he was with Ben. He looked back at the message he’d sent Ben last night. He’d received it, the screen confirmed, but there was no response. Callum took a little heart in the fact that his words had been seen but was upset with the lack of response. He knew he could just wait and hope for a reply, but he was tired of hope and its misleading lies, so he typed up another message.

I need to talk to you.  I miss you always x

Later that morning, Callum made his way to the undertakers, keeping his head low as he walked. He could sense people talking, pointing and whispering. Even if people weren’t in the pub last night, gossip spread fast and they would all be up to speed by now. He’d thrown on his trousers and shirt from yesterday, hoping they’d be appropriate enough for work. When he walked past the Beale’s house, he tried not to look up, holding his gaze at the road. Just as he was past it, his resolve faded sneaking a glance at building. There was no one there, no one at the window. No one.

He let himself in to the funeral parlour and slipped the key back under the mat. Callum relished the quiet of the office, but he couldn’t help but think of what was happening upstairs. Bianca would have surely sobered up enough by now to hear from Whitney. He was surprised that she hadn’t stormed around to the Vic and tried to rip his head off.

Callum set about preparing Mrs Charles for the viewing. There was a calmness and a peacefulness to the work, but sometimes it got to him. A life taken and just a shell left. Jay was trusting him with more responsibilities at work, but he didn’t know if he wanted to do the job forever. It was a good career and he did feel like he had a sense of purpose, but there was still something missing. He thought perhaps that was just him. Maybe he would never feel like he was completely whole.

As he was arranging some of the flowers around the room, he heard the front door click. Callum assumed that Jay had come in, not wanting him to deal with the family alone. He would be pleased to see him, and he could ask him about how Ben was. However, when he turned around he was shocked at the sight of the person in front of him.

“Hi,” Callum said uncertainly, trying to think of a reason why they would be here.

“Hi,” Bobby replied. “Is it ok if I talk to you for a second?”

Callum paused for a moment. He was all alone in here, but he wasn’t scared of the young boy. He wanted to hear what he had to say and still had so many questions that had bothered him. He’d almost placed them to the back of his mind for a while, content to just enjoy being with Ben. Now, though, he needed answers.

“Yeah,” Callum replied, and the younger man stepped further in the room. “Can’t say I was expecting to see you. How’d you get in?”

Bobby pointed back toward the door. “I saw you put the key back under the mat when you came in,” he replied. “I came to apologise for yesterday.”

Callum shook his head. “That weren’t your fault,” he replied. How could he blame someone for telling the truth when he’d been deceiving people he cared about for so long? “You were only telling it like is. I can’t say I’m happy about how it came out, but it weren’t nothing to do with you. It was my fault.”

The young man nodded then and seemed to pause, running through something in his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he confessed, as Callum looked at it with confusion.

That had been four days ago and Callum was still considering Bobby’s words in his mind. He hadn’t told anyone else, but it wasn’t his primary concern for now. He’d been nursing the same cup of tea for the last hour as he scrolled through his phone looking for a room to rent in the area. He hadn’t had any luck, so he was looking at the adverts in the Gazette, hoping something would stand out.

It was the first time he’d left the house in a few days, content to hide out in the kitchen in the Vic during the day. He could tell that Linda wasn’t happy with him being there; she clearly hadn’t agreed with what he had done and her disappointment was palpable. She was being civil, though frosty, which he knew was more than he would get if he stuck his face into the bar. Certainly, he’d face a tirade of whispers, and at worse a barrage of insults from the regulars.

Mick had gone around to the flat for him and picked up a few of his things. He was relieved that his possessions were still there and Whitney hadn’t thrown them out or burnt them. He’d asked Mick about how it went when he got back. He’d just given a shake of the head and told him not to worry, Whitney was going to box the rest of his things up and he’d go round to collect them at another time. The lack of response made him even further curious about the situation. He knew there was something that his friend wasn’t telling him.

Finally, this morning he’s gotten under Linda’s feet while she was trying to hoover, leading to the Christmas tree toppling over. Shirley suggested he go out for a while as he was starting to look like he was haunting the place. He didn’t want to go anywhere. There was a safety in the kitchen or sitting upstairs in the lounge.  There was starting to be a little bit of friction though and last night may have been everyone’s final straw.

He’d been sitting in the front room, messaging Ben again. He’d still not answered any of his texts, but Callum couldn’t stop sending them. It was cathartic really. Just because he wasn’t seeing him, it didn’t mean any of the feelings had muted. He missed talking to him, listening to his rants or his sweet words, and hearing his stories. He missed his voice. Most of all, he just missed being around the one person in the world who truly understood him.

Suddenly there was an influx into the room, disturbing his thoughts. Mick and Linda had come in first, chatting as they entered.

“I mean, seventeen cases of tonic over!” Linda complained, as she crossed through the doorway. “If it happens again, I’m going to threaten to change that supplier.”

“Yeah, that’ll really send a message.” Mick replied, sitting down on the sofa with a beer in his hand. “Giving them a bit of jip on the phone. Last time you did that, they sent us double rum and no vodka.”

Linda put her hands on her hips, annoyed at Mick insulting her negotiating methods. “I thought of a way to get rid of it, didn’t I?” she replied with a smug smile.

“Tryin’ to flog a Caribbean night in the middle of December in a boozer weren’t exactly a sure fire hit, was it?” Mick replied. “Even Patrick didn’t come and his blood’s ninety percent rum.”

“You try finding a palm tree during the Christmas period!” Linda replied defensively. “Plus putting your mother in a Hawaiian shirt didn’t exactly scream relaxing beach holiday! She stabbed Robbie in the arm with a cocktail umbrella!”

“I’ll get on the blower in the morning, alright? Let’s just watch this film you been going on about all afternoon,” he said motioning to her to sit down on the sofa. “Although it’s sixty years old if it’s a day and you’ve seen it a hundred times, so not sure what the hurry is.”

Linda didn’t move though, looking reluctantly at the space between her husband and Callum.

“I can move if-“ he started, sensing he was in the middle of a date evening. That wasn’t the only reason though. Linda was barely keeping eye contact with him these days, let alone wanting to sit next to him.

“No, you’re all right, Halfway,” Mick responded. “You stay put. Plenty of room for everyone. We can have a nice little sing along.”

Linda came to sit on the sofa, shuffling as far as she could up to Mick. “Well, this is romantic,” she remarked sarcastically, making Callum feel even guiltier. She gave him a slight glare with her eyes and then turned the television on with the remote.

Shirley entered the room at that moment and made her way over to Callum, looking at him expectantly. “Move, brainiac! I ain’t sitting in the floor after being on my feet all day.”

Callum slid to the carpet, taking his phone with him, trying to compose another message to Ben. “Why aren’t you helping Tracey in the bar?” Linda commented, squinting at the screen in confusion.

“Deader than a dodo in there. It don’t need two of us to refill Ted’s pint every hour,” she remarked, shoving Linda further along the sofa to make more room. “Tina! Are you coming with that sandwich?”

A few seconds later, her sister entered the room, carrying two plates. She handed one to Shirley and then plopped on the floor next to Callum. “What’d your last slave die of?” Tina asked, giving her sister a gentle elbow to the leg.

“I gave them a good kicking. This got tomato in it?” Shirley replied, taking a bite of her food.

“No and just a little mayonnaise. I do make food for a living you know! I can make a sandwich to order,” she replied, before moving closer to Callum and smiling up at him.

“Would you stop bothering him? Every time I’ve see him the past few days, he’s got you next to him grinning like a Cheshire Cat,” Shirley cried, a bit of crust falling back to her plate. “It’s like watching someone recruit for a cult!”

“Oh, shut up! He’s my friend. That’s what people do when they care about someone; they smile! Just because your mouth’s been set in a scowl since the late seventies, don’t take it out on the rest of us,” Tina replied, chewing on her own snack.

“Don’t listen to her Halfway,” Shirley commented towards him. “She’s just hoping you’ll cover some of her shifts at the Prince Albert now you’re skipping over the rainbow.”

“I’m not!” Tina replied, defensively. She looked at Callum and gave another large smile. “I’m really proud of him. But if he wanted to help out with the menu sometime, perhaps do a little bit of bar work, then I’m not going to say no.”

“He ain’t come out so you can go get off your nut of an evening, has he Tine? Give the fella some time to breath!” Mick replied. “Linda! You found that film yet? I could have gone down the Odeon and back in the time it’s taken you to scroll through your favourites list!”

“I just thought it might help him a bit, that’s all. Get him out and about,” Tina replied, as if he wasn’t sitting right next to her. “Plus, we get some really nice guys in all the time. He can have his pick!”

“He don’t want nice fellas, does he?” Shirley spat out. “He’s been hooking up with Walford’s low budget Byron for god knows how long, so clearly he ain’t gonna fall into the arms of a friendly, stable accountant! Leave him alone!”

“It’s not here!” Linda said, pressing buttons frantically on the remote control. “I set the film to record at three. There was nothing else recording at the time. Why ain’t it worked?”

Callum felt his stomach sink a little and turned to face the sofa. “I unplugged the tv at three,” he confessed. He was waiting and hoping that Ben would reply to his latest message and the battery was falling too low for his liking. “I needed to charge my phone and no one was using it. I’m sorry.”

He thought Linda was going to burst into tears on the spot, as her lips pursed and her eyes fluttered dramatically. Instead she meekly stood up, handing the remote control to Mick. “Well, you’ve already ruined one evening this week, what’s another one to add to the list? I don’t know why you need to charge your phone, anyway. He ain’t texting back.”

She walked out the room and into the kitchen, her words echoing in Callum’s ears. It hurt to hear someone say it out loud, that his pursuit was without victory, though it’s what he had been thinking constantly. He’d sent at least five messages a day, all of them read but none of them responded to.

“She don’t mean it, Halfway.” Mick explained, standing up. “She’s just upset. I’ll go have a word.”

Tina rubbed him gently on the shoulder. “It takes me weeks to reply to messages sometimes. He’s probably just not sure what to say,” she said sympathetically.

“That would be a first for Ben,” Shirley scoffed, before seeing the look on Callum’s face. “Don’t mean there’s not a first time for everything though!”

“I should go apologise,” Callum said, getting up and putting his phone in his back pocket. He made his way tentatively into the kitchen and saw Linda sitting at the table. She looked away and glowered when she saw him. He went and took a seat on the chair opposite her.

“I’m sorry, Linda,” he mumbled quietly. “I’ll make it up to you.”

Linda nodded, turning her eyes away. “You been saying that a lot recently, have you?” she responded, with bite in her voice.

“Elle,” Mick warned, piercing her with his eyes. It had helped a little these last few days; to have the landlord on his side.

“I’m sorry, Halfway. I’ve held my tongue long enough,” Linda replied, this time looking towards him. “I may never have been Whitney’s number one fan, but no one deserves what you did to her.”

Callum held his head lower. It was nothing he didn’t think himself anyway. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” he replied quietly “I do love Whitney, just not in that way. I just convinced myself I was something I weren’t. I know I was a coward. I know that.”

Linda’s face mellowed a little. “I don’t think that. You know I think you’re brave,” she said softly. “I just don’t get why you married her if you knew you were having feelings elsewhere.”

It was something that Callum had asked himself a million times. “I thought I could get over them. I tried to pack them away and pretend they didn’t exist. I didn’t want to be a disappointment to anyone.”

Linda reached over and grabbed his hand. “You are not a disappointment,” Mick said firmly. “You are the best of the best. You made a bit of a gaff, alright, who ain’t? But we’re your family, we love ya and we’re always gonna be here for you no matter what. Ain’t that right, Elle?”

She rubbed his hand tenderly. “Of course we are,” she said lovingly “You can stay as long as you need to. Don’t worry about that film. It’s only a musical I’ve seen thousands of times anyway. I wouldn’t have heard any of it with Shirley snoring away next to me!”

“Thanks, Linda,” he said squeezing her hand back. He hated the thought of disappointing her. “I’ll start looking for somewhere else anyway. It’ll probably take some time.”

“I’m sorry about what I said and all,” she admitted. “I’m sure he’ll text back if he’s got any sense. You might get something tonight!”

He hadn’t. Though he’d delayed sleep for long enough to wait and see. Finally, he sent Ben a good night text telling him he missed him before dropping off again. He had woken up to Linda hoovering around him, leading to the incident with the tree. Although they had made up, he didn’t want to push his luck, which is how he found himself in the café now.

As he was reading though the last of the adverts detailing flats for rent, he felt a hand touch his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Kathy smiling down at him, a fresh cup of tea in her hand. “Thought you might need a warmer one,” she said, giving his back a light rub, before setting the cup down in front on him.

He smiled gratefully as Kathy took the chair opposite. “Yeah, thanks,” he responded appreciatively, as he picked the tea up, taking a sip.

Kathy looked at him, opening her mouth slightly as if considering her words carefully. “He can lash out, when he’s hurt, but it doesn’t last forever,” she remarked calmly, and Callum was in no doubt whom she was referring to.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” he responded, setting the tea down carefully. By telling his mother, it somehow made Callum feel he was telling Ben in person. Besides, he wanted to make a good impression with her. “It’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

“I know, love,” she said, patting him on the hand. “Ben’s got a temper. You just need to give him a little time. He tends to push away if you get too close. He gets scared. It’s how he protects his heart. I’m as much to blame as anyone. That ain’t who he really is though, underneath, though the idiots around here won’t recognise that. Not everyone sees him like I do. Like you do.”

“He won’t even talk to me,” Callum replied. “I just wish I could speak to him. He won’t answer my messages, I tried calling and it goes straight to voicemail.”

“Everyone’s out the house today,” Kathy responded with a smile. “Why don’t you try going round? Do it face to face, the old fashioned way?”

“He won’t answer the door,” Callum said knowingly. “Not when he’s in this mood.”

Kathy paused and then reached into her pocket, pulling out a key. She slid it across the table to him. “This is for the back door. Be careful on the handle though, you’ve got to jiggle it; it’s been wobbly for months.”

Callum picked up the cold metal, gripping it in his hand. “Why?” he asked simply. He thought Kathy would be furious at him for upsetting her son.

“I haven’t ever seen him as happy as he’s been the last few months,” she replied, with a shrug of her shoulders “I wanted him to meet a nice boy. I’d rather it hadn’t been a married one, but no one’s perfect, eh?”

“Thank you,” he said, clutching onto the key. As she stood up, she gently leaned down and gave him a kiss on the forehead, before leaving him to his thoughts.

Turning the key around in his hand, he was in two minds. All he wanted to do was to storm over there, so he could see him; to have Ben tangibly in front of him again rather than some thought floating in his head that kept wisping away. Callum felt like a starving man who’d just been told where to find food. Then again, Ben hadn’t wanted to speak to him, not even a text to tell him to leave him alone or that he hated him and never wanted to talk to him again. How would he feel if Callum then turned up in his home?

Before he could change his mind, he stood up and marched out of the caff. He tried to ignore the glare that Martin was giving him as he made his way to the Beale’s back gate. Over the past few days, the thoughts of people criticising him hadn’t seemed as important as they once had. The gate slightly squeaked as Callum pushed it open and clattered a little as he carefully shut it behind him, closing the rest of the world out. There was no noise as he approached the back door, and he hoped that after all this, Ben would be there.

Callum gently put the key in the lock and turned the handle, careful not to damage it any further. He felt his breathing deepen as he opened the door and stepped into the Beale’s kitchen, trying to be quiet as the catch closed. He hadn’t been thrown out yet and had managed to at least step inside, so he knew Ben wasn’t in the kitchen. He wondered if he was upstairs, perhaps still in bed or in the shower. As he was considering whether he should wait down there or go up the stairs, something in the other room caught his eye.

Ben was sitting on the sofa, watching the tv and eating a bowl of cereal. He had to have heard someone come through the door and must have looked over and seen it was Callum. He was acting like he wasn’t even there, ignoring him, which made Callum’s heart sink. He could have taken shouting and screaming, but the quiet played with his head.

 Ben silent was an unusual and rare experience. It was something that Callum loved on occasion. When Ben was asleep, a calmness and youthfulness covered his face and Callum took the opportunity to watch him openly, tracing every little contour and mark with his eyes. After sex sometimes, Ben could also be still, his voice being purposefully absent, just looking into Callum’s eyes like he didn’t need the words to express his feelings.

This time though, Callum hated how silent Ben was; it felt unnatural, like the whole world was tilted. He moved into the lounge, taking slow steps. He could see some old movie on the tv that Ben was watching, the song ringing out into the room from the speakers. Callum pulled a chair out at the dining room table and sat down, watching as Ben ate another spoonful of cereal.

Callum leant down and rested his head on his arms, not taking his eyes off Ben who continued to watch the musical. They both sat that way for a few minutes, the only sounds being the clinking of the spoon against the bowl and the vocals of some actor who had probably died years before they were even born.

Without warning, Ben put his bowl down on the coffee table, stood up and made his way towards the kitchen. Callum didn’t dare shift his body but followed the movement with his eyes. He heard a banging from the kitchen and various cupboard doors being opened. A minute later Ben returned with another bowl, that had a spoon resting on the side. He put it down in front of Callum and then walked back to the sofa, picked his own breakfast back up and continued to eat and watch the film.

“What are you doing here, Callum?” Ben asked after a few minutes. It made him jump a little, the silence had become natural to his ears. Hearing Ben’s voice after so long was glorious though. It felt like he’d started to forget it; the tone and expression never quite sounding right when he tried to recreate it in his own mind.

“I needed to talk to you,” he replied, lifting his head off the table. “I needed to see you.”

Ben put his bowl down harshly this time, the spoon rattling fiercely against the bowl. He stood up and came to stand opposite the table, leaning on the sideboard. “What more can you have to say? I got the message loud and clear the other night,” Ben replied, gritting his teeth together.

“What message?” Callum asked.

“The fact that I’m alright for a bit of fun, but this ain’t serious for you,” Ben started. “You saw you and Whit as a proper relationship. That’s how you treated her. I don’t know what you see us as.”

“You’re my boyfriend,” Callum replied firmly.

Ben shook his head. “But what does that really mean to you? Because all this sneaking around, hiding and lying, that ain’t a relationship!” he explained loudly, before motioning to the bowl. “Eat your breakfast.”

Callum sighed, feeling he’d been through this before. “We couldn’t be open because of Whit-“

“I don’t want to hear about Whitney! This ain’t about her now. She knows, she’s gone. Right?” Ben asked, a hint of doubt in his voice. Callum nodded in confirmation. “This is about you and me. Will you just eat your cereal! It’ll go soggy if you leave it any longer and you won’t eat it at all!”

Callum looked at Ben strangely, unsure why it was so important for him to have breakfast while they were having the most important discussion of their relationship. He complied though and picked up his spoon, starting to mix the little pieces around in the milk. “That’s all I care about; you and me.”

“Is it? I had to stand there while she threw insult after insult at me and you didn’t say a word,” Ben said, with a break in his voice. “She tried to slice me with a gel nail and you was mute. We’re supposed to be there for each other over everything! Callum, will you stop swirling it around and eat the fucking thing!”

Callum threw the spoon down. “I’m trying to discuss us, why do you keep on about eating some cereal!”

“Because otherwise you won’t eat!” Ben shouted back at him, as if the floodgates had finally broken. “Because you’ve been carrying so much around with you day after day; all this guilt and all this anxiety, that you’ve barely been holding it together. It’s been consuming you from the inside out and there’s been nothing I could do about it!”

Callum thought over Ben’s words. “I thought you hadn’t noticed,” he said quietly. He believed he had been so good at hiding it.

“Of course, I noticed,” Ben said, and he walked around the table, kneeling in front of Callum, leaning his arm on his leg. “I’ve been there, remember? I’ve been doing my best just to keep you on track and I’ve been failing cause I’m no good at this sort of thing. Didn’t you think it was strange that you’re a cook, yet I’m the one that always makes us food?”

Callum thought back to the last few months, all the nights in and stolen moments. He nodded to the bowl on the table. “It’s cereal. There’s not really a lot of ‘making’ required.”

Ben smacked him on the leg. “Yeah, alright smart arse!” he said giving a little chuckle as he went to sit on the chair next to Callum. “That’s not the only thing I’ve done.”

“I think I’ve eaten more food from the chippy in the last few months than I have in my whole life,” he started to list, smiling back at Ben. “I can’t sit still for longer than ten seconds without you throwing a bag of crisps at me and you’ve made Jay cook us dinner three times in the last two weeks. Remind me what you’ve made again?”

“Do you know how much I’ve had to eat to make sure you weren’t going to collapse in some open grave at work?” Ben protested. “I’ve put on weight!”

“You look good to me,” Callum admitted as he placed his hand on Ben’s cheek, rubbing his thumb gently up and down. He felt Ben lean into his touch and watched as his eyes flutter shut. After a moment, they opened quickly, the realisation of their discussion seemingly coming back to him.

Ben lifted Callum’s hand off his cheek. “It don’t change anything though,” he said regretfully. “I care about you and I will always be here to help you. I just don’t know whether we should be together. I don’t know if it’s the healthiest thing for either of us.”

“Yes, you do!” Callum said insistently. “You know it is because you love me.”

Ben went wide eyed then, his mouth dropping open. “What?” he asked as if he hadn’t quite believed his ears.

“What you said the other night; when you say ‘I miss you,’. It doesn’t just mean that. It means that you love me,” he said slowly, unsure why Ben was confused,

“Callum!” Ben shouted, standing up with his head in his hands and moving closer to the sofa.

He got up as well, following Ben. “What?”

“You don’t tell someone else that they love you!” he said, removing his hands and looking exasperatedly at Callum. “I’m supposed to say it, not have you announce my feelings to me!”

“Does it matter?” he replied. Callum felt that the important past was they felt it, not the words. He’d realised his error on Christmas night when he was in bed scrolling through their messages.

“Yes, it matters!” Ben answered with frustration. “It’s supposed to happen in a romantic, significant moment by the person that feels it, not muttered out by you over a bowl of Frosties! Great, I have an absolute airhead for a boyfriend!”

Callum gave him a shove then, causing Ben to fall on to the couch with a laugh. “Oi! How am I supposed to know!” he asked. “I ain’t exactly done this a lot of times.”

“What and you think I have?” Ben said, pulling Callum’s hand so he fell down with him. “I weren’t exactly making declarations and life time commitments to every quick hook up I had.”

Ben was still gripping Callum’s hand at this point, stroking it with his fingers. “I am only messing, you know. To survive what you did growing up you had to be smart. To get through it. To be able to read people like you do. You’re smarter than me, that’s for sure, because I barely scraped through it to the other side. You not only came through but are the most beautiful human on the planet. And I love you.”

Callum smiled then at Ben’s admission. He was never good with words and wouldn’t be able to say something nearly as profound, so instead he leant forward and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you too,” he muttered in barely a whisper, before kissing Ben on the lips.

Ben gently rubbed his nose against Callum’s and then moved a little away. “Those things I said the other night. I was angry,” he admitted. “I felt second best. I was just protecting myself in case you changed your mind.”

“I’d never do that,” Callum replied. “Who else would bring me out of date sandwiches from the Minute Mart for lunch.”

“One time, it was a day out of date!” Ben protested, resting his head on Callum’s shoulder. “Well twice, but I gave that one to Jay when I realised. Right, that’s it from now on I expect you to make all my meals for me.”

“Well you’ll have to come over the Vic then, because they’ve got me cooking there now on my days off from the funeral parlour,” Callum suggested, leaning his head on top of Ben’s.

“Undertaker, chef, bartender soldier; see, you’re the most accomplished person on the square,” Ben said running his fingers up and down Callum’s thigh. “I’ll get Lo to teach you a bit of hairdressing and I’ll show you around a car and then you’ll be a proper little renaissance man. You seem to have a key now, so you’ve got now excuse for not coming round and responding to my every whim. Mum, I take it?”

Callum nodded. “I saw her this morning,” he admitted.

“Yeah, she’s been banging on for four days about what a lovely boy you are,” Ben replied, with a roll of his eyes. “Don’t worry though, I let her know you weren’t so nice when you had me bent over that table.”

“Ben!” Callum exclaimed, giving him a little shove.

“Alright, alright!” he replied, settling back into Callum’s side. “I didn’t quite say that! Although when Jay was singing your praises and telling me what an idiot I was being, I did tell him that you tried to shag me on his bed. You may not make employee of the month anymore!”

“Did you read them? My messages,” Callum asked, curious if his texting had made any difference.

Ben smiled at him. “You know I did. Persistent, ain’t cha?”

“I missed you,” Callum said. “I mean, genuinely missed you. I didn’t have anyone to talk to, not properly. Does this mean we’re not finished then?”

“I take it back! You’re an absolute ditzy bimbo and I’m only with you for your looks,” Ben replied as Callum lifted his head and scowled at him. “Of course we’re not! You really think I’m gonna let Tina drag you into The Prince Albert and let the first fella that sees you snap you up? Nah. You’re mine, I’m afraid, soldier boy.”

“So you missed me then?” Callum said smiling down at him.

“I always do, don’t I?” Ben replied, lifting his body up to kiss Callum’s lips, before snuggling back into his side again. “I can’t say it was a totally uneventful few days, but I’ll tell you about it later. Now, shush cause I want to finish watching this.”

There was silence in the room then, just the harmonic music ringing out from the television. Callum wasn’t focused on that though, instead looking down at Ben smiling at the film. There was no way on earth he would let him down again, the risk of losing him for good too much of a threat. Callum knew there was still a level of doubt in both their heads, but he would move mountains to try and prove himself to everyone. He wasn’t going to hide anymore.

Chapter Text

Callum felt the mattress stutter as a body bounced enthusiastically onto the bed. Annoyed at the interruption to his sleep, he kept his eyes tightly closed and snuggled face down further into the warm pillow.

“I know you’re awake,” the voice accused knowingly, as he felt a knee nudge into his ribs. ”Cal, c’mon wake up!”

Giving a groan, he slowly turned over, lifting his heavy eyelids and using all his strength to keep them open. There was a bright beam of light creeping through the curtain letting him know the day had long begun. Looking up, he could see Ben kneeling on the bed. He was just wearing a robe, looking down at Callum happily, his glasses propped on his nose. Smiling at the sight, Callum lifted his hand up and gently cupped his cheek, his fingers brushing at some damp hair by Ben’s ear.

“You’ve had a shower already,” Callum observed, running his hand down Ben’s neck, to where his dressing gown was open at his chest. He gently stroked the skin there, playing dot to dot with a few stray freckles.

Ben rolled his eyes. “Not giving Sherlock Holmes a run for his money, are you Callum?” he replied, leaning down and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “I’m showered because I’ve been up for hours while you’ve been half comatose in here.”

Callum lazily stretched a little before pulling himself up into a sitting position. His body immediately objected, and his head fell forward onto Ben’s shoulder, resting his cheek there and keeping him upright. “I was tired,” he complained, his words muffled as his mouth was covered in material.

Ben chuckled a little and reached up to stroke the back of Callum’s neck, placing a kiss on the top of his hair. “I’m not surprised. You ain’t been sleeping for months. On the plus side, I’ve finally met my objective of shagging you into oblivion. My work here is done.”

Callum slipped his hand beneath Ben’s robe giving his skin a little pinch by the hip, before rubbing the area softly with his hand.

“Anyway, you need to get out of bed, to get ready for tonight,” Ben replied, running his hand up and down Callum’s back.

Abruptly lifting his head, Callum squinted inquisitively at Ben. “What’s tonight?” he asked. His brain was still sleep addled, but as far as he was aware, they didn’t have any plans.

Ben quirked his lips as though he knew how the next sentence would be received. “We’re cooking dinner for my family,” he said with suspiciously cheery voice. “And when I say ‘we’, I mean you.”

A wave of nerves hit him then which seemed to chase all the sleep and calmness from his body. Callum had been practically living in the Beale house for a week, but he still felt an uneasiness about sitting around and having a meal he was responsible for producing, for with people he’d never even spent any time with.

The day he had let himself into Ben’s house and they made up, he’d made a promise not to hide anymore. It wasn’t going exactly to plan so far. That day they had both curled up on the sofa, the sound of the movie and the warmth of his boyfriend easing his mind and coaxing his body into slumber. At some point, in the back of his mind, he had heard a door open which had taken him out of his deep sleep, but he didn’t start to regain consciousness properly until he heard whispered tones.

“Oh sorry! I didn’t know you’d be downstairs or I would have stayed out longer,” a voice he immediately recognised as Kathy, remarked softly.

Callum felt the sofa move and a loss of heat by his side as Ben got up from the couch. “It’s fine; we were just watching a film,” he replied to his mother in a low voice.

“I love West Side Story,” she remarked enthusiastically. “I take it Callum’s not a fan?”

Ben chuckled slightly, the sound filling Callum’s ears. “I don’t think it’s quite his style, but he gave it a go for about two minutes before dropping off.”

“Bless him, he looks like he needs a good rest,” Kathy observed. “I’ve got to pop to the Prince Albert, so I’ll leave you alone. I’m so happy it’s worked out. He’s such a-“

“Nice boy! I know, you haven’t stopped telling me.” Ben remarked. There was a short moment of silence before he heard the sound of a kiss. “Thanks mum.”

As Callum heard the back door click shut, he let his eyes flutter open. Ben was leaning on the table, deep in thought, his face slightly pulled into a frown. “You ok?” Callum asked, worried that there were regrets forming from their conversation earlier.

The sound seemed to surprise Ben, and he quickly stood up straight and turned to Callum with a smile. “Finding it tricky to sleep over at The Vic are you? Linda’s wallpaper a bit too loud?”

“Sorry,” Callum replied apologetically. “I didn’t mean to drop off.”

Ben shook his head in dismissal and then came to sit back down on the sofa. He didn’t say anything, just used the remote to turn the television off. He leaned forward meeting Callum’s lips in gentle touch.

“You’ll miss the end of the film,” Callum remarked between kisses.

“It’s fine,” Ben replied solemnly. “The ending’s no good anyway.”

It seemed strange to be out on the Square, standing still and taking in the post-Christmas sights. Lights and decorations were slowly disappearing and the ones that remained had been tattered and weather worn. Over the last week, he’d only left the Beale’s house to go back to the Vic or quickly rush to work. He was still technically at the Carter’s and last time he was there, a pile of boxes littered the hallway that Mick had collected from the flat, as promised.

 In truth, Callum wasn’t quite sure where he belonged anymore. As much as it was a home he shared with Whitney, he had some good experiences at the flat, it was somewhere he could call his own at least. It wasn’t a place he could ever imagine being happy at again though or ever returning to. Then there was the Queen Victoria pub. He knew he would always have a place there; the people inhabiting the building were his family and they all welcomed him in their own way. It was still somewhere that was plagued with memories of Whitney though, and of someone else that carried his markings and features, but who was unrecognisable to him now.

That being said, he couldn’t feel comfortable enough to call the Beale’s his home either. He got on alright with Lola, and being around Lexi always cheered him up. Kathy was very supportive and always had a kind word. There was still an air of tension between him and Bobby, and he knew he’d have to deal with that situation at some point. It was Ian though, that made him the most uncomfortable and unwelcome. It wasn’t anything he really said, but he knew there were muttered comments and looks of disapproval that he could sense were aimed at him.

It was only Ben that kept him there and Callum felt a tranquillity and acceptance when he was in his bed. It felt like home. It was like he could trap everything else out and it just be them. He didn’t want anything else; only Ben. He made him happy, and felt like his anchor to this world, keeping him safe and grounded. Why should anything else matter?

Now though, Ben had announced that he would be making dinner for everyone at the house that evening and had packed him off to the shop to get the ingredients. He knew what Ben was doing, he could see the worry on his face when Callum would barely leave his room. This was his way of trying to get his confidence back.

Walking into the Minute Mart, he took a deep breath. It was relatively empty which made him calm down a little. Every time he took a step outside, he was afraid that he would run into Whitney, or Bianca or one of the various other people on the Square who wanted his guts for garters. He nodded towards Honey, who at least didn’t look like she wanted to cave his head in, before heading towards the fridge. He started to pick some of the items he wanted from it, before going to the back of the shop to gather some other components he needed.

“He’s gone and shacked up with him now, ain’t he,” he heard a voice say as they entered the shop.

Well, it’s not going to last is it?” a second voice responded. “Can you imagine Ben Mitchell putting up with anyone for more than a week? He’s not exactly his type either, is he? He’ll get bored of him and Callum will be cheated on and then get a taste of his own medicine. You alright, Honey? What you doing that with your eyes for?”

Callum’s cheeks were blistering as he stood in the back of the shop. He just wanted to throw everything down and run out. How could he possibly walk to the till now when they were all criticising and gossiping about him? He looked down at the food he was holding in his hands. If he went back without anything, he knew he’d disappoint Ben.

Gathering his thoughts together and trying to stand as tall as he could, he rounded the corner, placing the items on the counter. He could now see, as he suspected, that Karen and Denise were standing near the till, their faces slightly tinged with the embarrassment of being caught speaking about him. Their eyes still held judgement though and that was the overwhelming feeling.

“Cosy little night in with the missus is it?” Karen uttered, holding her head high. “Or is that for your bit on the side? You’ve got enough grub there, maybe you’ve got another on the go as well.”

“I just want to pay, please Honey. I don’t want any trouble,” Callum remarked to the lady serving him.

“No, well you should have thought about that before you break some nice girl’s heart, shouldn’t you?” Karen spat out. “I always thought you was a bit odd, but now I know you’re scum as well.”

Callum just continued to look down at the counter. Honey seemed to be in some sort of trance and was scanning the items at a snail’s pace.

“You want to repeat that again,” a voice behind him rang out daringly.

Turning around, he was a little surprised to see Stuart standing there. He hadn’t seen him since Christmas Night, though he’d been expecting him to turn up at any moment once he found out things were serious with Ben. Sitting above his right eye, was a large cut surrounded by bruising which Callum hadn’t seen when they met last.

“Yeah,” Karen responded, squaring up to his brother. “I said he’s scum. Seems to run in the family.”

“Say what you want about me,” Stuart answered, getting closer to the woman. “But my brother’s a good man. He made a mistake and you’re judging him for it! You lot? How much that come to, Hon?”

Honey had been transfixed by the situation, but soon cleared her head to read the amount on the till. “Nineteen pounds and five pence,” she said, placing everything carefully into to a bag.

Stuart threw a twenty pound note onto the counter. “Put that change into the charity box, yeah? C’mon bruv,” he said, gesturing for Callum to leave.

He grabbed the bag and gave a quick smile of thanks towards Honey. He could feel Karen’s scowl on the back of his neck as he made his way out of the restrictive shop and into the clear air of the street.

“Callum, can we talk?” Stuart asked in a softer voice, now they were away from the women.

As appreciative as he was of his brother getting him out of the situation, he didn’t want to spend time talking anything out at the minute. He had a lot to say to his brother and he was sure Stuart had a lot to say in return, but now wasn’t the time. “Another time, Stu, yeah?” he responded. “I’ve got to get back.”

Callum left his brother in the Square and didn’t look back. He had to get home to Ben and he was feeling nervous enough about tonight as it was. He would deal with his brother later.

The afternoon was spent preparing things in the kitchen. It was much more time than Callum would usually spend just making one meal for seven people, but he didn’t want anything to go wrong. Also, he knew Ian was out for the day and he could get a lot more done without the other man lingering over his shoulder, complaining about the damage he was doing to his kitchen utensils.

As he was organising everything, Lexi had twirled into the room. “You alright Lex?” he asked, as he was chopping vegetables.

The young girl started hopping on one foot to the other. “Is there anything ready to eat?” she asked hopefully.

“Nothing at the moment, sweetheart,” he responded. He saw her disappointed face and thought of a suggestion that might cheer her up. “I haven’t made anything for pudding yet. What shall I do?”

“Cupcakes, Callum! Make cupcakes, please!” she said, putting on a smile and linking her hands together to beg. Callum chuckled at the dramatic gesture.

“I don’t know, they’re tricky things,” he replied, shaking his head as he was playing along. “I’m not sure I can make them all by myself.”

Lexi started jumping up and down. “I know how to make them! I can help, I’ve made them with Nanny before!” she exclaimed excitedly. “Look a cupcake dance!”

Callum watched in amusement as the little girl circled and pirouetted around the kitchen. “Alright! Alright! Cupcakes it is. If her majesty would be so kind to get me the flour out from that cupboard.”

An hour later, and the kitchen was a little messier than it had been when Callum was in there alone. He didn’t mind though, as he and Lexi had managed to create something and she seemed to enjoy herself. They were just finishing icing the cakes together. She was singing him a song that she learnt at school and telling him that she always got house points for sitting beautifully and knowing all the words.

“There, all done,” he said, passing her the last cake to add sprinkles too. “I think those are the best cupcakes I’ve ever seen.”

“Wow, looks like a bakery exploded in here,” Ben said as he entered the kitchen. He hoisted himself up so he was sitting on the counter they were working at. He reached down, taking a cake and biting hungrily into it. He didn’t seem to notice the glares he was receiving from the other two people in the room

“Lexi had just finished making them; they’re for after dinner, not for you to stuff your face with now,” Callum told him, tilting his head to the side critically.

“What?” Ben said with a mouthful of cake, before turning his attention towards his daughter. “You don’t mind if Daddy has one of your cakes, do you darlin’?

“We’ve slaved for hours and hours over those! And even more hours!” Lexi replied, putting her hands on her hips and mirroring Callum’s stance.

“And they’re the best cakes I’ve ever had! The icing is especially fantastic,” Ben replied, putting his finger in the buttercream and then reaching across and wiping it on Callum’s cheek.

“Well maybe I could forgive you, if I have something in return,” Lexi commented, her eyes looking towards the cakes.

“She’s definitely your daughter,” Callum muttered, not being able to lean away in time as Ben dobbed another blob of icing on his cheek.

“Alright then,” Ben said, mocking a tone of submission. “There’s an apple in the fruit bowl. I suppose you can have that.”

The little girl opened her eyes and mouth wide in disapproval. “No Daddy! Please! You’ve had one!” she complained. “Callum, please!”

Callum leaned over and covered Ben’s eyes with his hand. “Absolutely not, Daddy’s right. I think you need to wait until after dinner,” he said as he gestured for her to take a cake with his other hand.

Lexi ran and grabbed a cupcake, then skipped out the door, giggling in delight. Callum removed his hand from Ben’s face. “I know! I’m a soft touch,” he admitted when he saw Ben’s expression.

Ben grabbed Callum’s arm and pulled him closer, leaning in and licking the icing off his cheek. “You’ve never been soft with me,” he muttered into Callum’s ear.

Callum leaned in closer angling his lips so they met Ben’s briefly. He leaned back, though Ben still had a firm grip on his arm. “I’ve got to make dinner.”

“Don’t stop,” Ben whispered pulling him back in and hooking his legs around Callum’s waist.

“You decided I was cooking tonight,” Callum taunted, pulling Ben down from the counter and manoeuvring him towards the door. He stepped behind him wrapping his arms around his neck and leaning his cheek against the back of Ben’s head. “You’ve brought this on yourself. Go set the table, make the napkins look nice or something.”

Ben turned his head round slightly to scowl as he was being marched out of the room. “It’s tea with my mum and my brother, Callum. It ain’t a State dinner for the Queen. I’m not going to turn bits of kitchen roll into swans.”

Callum gave him one final kiss on the cheek and then shooed him out the room, closing the door behind him. He took a big breath as he looked at the kitchen and began tidying so he could continue to prepare the meal.

A few hours later, they were all siting down around the table. Before everyone had arrived home, he’d checked the setting and changed the napkins to be just folded rather the slightly salacious shapes Ben had made. He’d put all the food out and everyone was eating. Ben gave his thigh a brief stroke under the table, keeping his hand there for a few moments for reassurance.

“This chicken’s amazing, Callum,” Lola offered, bringing her fork to her mouth. He gave her a smile in return.

“I love the veg,” Kathy commented. “Even Lexi’s tucking in and she usually leaves them till last. They’re good aren’t they, Ian?”

“I suppose it does suit the palate of a child,” Ian commented. “I try and add more of a complex flavour combination when I do mine. I’ll talk you through it one day, Callum.”

“He’s a chef,” Ben barked, glaring across the table. “He don’t need teaching.”

“It’s fine,” Callum replied, smiling reassuringly towards Ben. “I don’t know everything. I can always learn more.”

“See?” Ian replied, smirking haughtily back at his brother. “Don’t be so quick to criticise. Besides, I wouldn’t exactly call him a chef.”

“Uh, excuse me, he cooked in the army,” Ben retorted, waving his knife about. “He was cooking for hundreds of people, not fiddling about with a turkey burger during a lunchtime special.”

“It’s fine, Ben,” Callum said stroking him on the shoulder to let him know he didn’t have to defend him. All he wanted was to have a calm, uneventful meal. He was happy to just get through it with everyone still talking.

“No offence, Callum, but it’s hardly fine dining, is it?” Ian suggested between mouthfuls. “Sticking a couple of rations in a tin.”

Kathy put her knife and fork down loudly. “He weren’t in the trenches in World War One, Ian!” she exclaimed. “It’s all different now. They get qualifications and have to do things to a really high standard! Ain’t that right, love?”

Callum nodded in confirmation, hoping that would bring the conversation to an end. However, Ian had other ideas. “It couldn’t have been that wonderful if he didn’t go back there and instead is taking up space in someone else’s house.”

He wasn’t surprised when Ben’s cutlery clanged down on his plate. “He’s my guest, I pay my fair share in this house and I’ll have who I want round here,” he said in a quiet, low growl.

“I never said you can’t have people round!” Ian replied defensively. “There’s a difference between having a mate around for a beer and keeping someone in your room though, isn’t there?”

“What are you getting at?” Ben asked tensely, though by his face it was quite clear he understood what the implication was.

“I’m just saying you might need to be a little bit careful with Lexi around,” Ian responded with a shrug. “It’s a bit confusing to suddenly move in your…special friend.”

Lola shook her head in disbelief, while Kathy covered her face with her hands. Even Bobby, who had sat quietly through the whole conversation seemed to stop mid chew.

“It’s not like I’m against it!” Ian exclaimed protectively, when he saw the reactions from around the table. “I understand it and I’m perfectly fine with it! I’m just saying it’s tricky for a seven year old. How’s she supposed to know when what’s going on when all her other friends have mummies and daddies, and she has something, well, different.”

“Millie told me I was her best friend yesterday and she has a daddy, a mummy and her mummy has a boyfriend,” Lexi started to say, cramming the last of her dinner in her mouth. “I don’t know if I like her anymore though because she’s going to Jessica B’s party and Jessica B stole Amelia’s dolphin pencil sharpener, even though she told Mrs Carpenter than she never.”

“You know that Callum’s daddy’s boyfriend, don’t you, Lex?” Ben asked his daughter confidently.

“Yeah, that’s why you kiss on the lips,” Lexi replied quickly, annoyed that her story was interrupted. “So Jessica B’s mummies are throwing her a party at ‘Jump About’, but I don’t want to go anyway because it stinks of sick. Amelia’s Nanny said she had to go because it would be rude and Amelia doesn’t have a mummy or a daddy, so she has to do as her nan and grandad say. I don’t mind not going to the party though, because on the last day of term Mrs Peters brought in gingerbread for everyone. That’s who Jack W lives with, but she’s not his mummy. Jack W says she lots of children that live with her, but they just stay for a little while. Jessica B got a broken gingerbread man and I got one with a Santa hat on, so it served her right for stealing. Can I have a cupcake now?”

Lola smiled at her daughter. “Go on then, as you’ve eaten all your dinner. Why don’t you take it upstairs and finishing reading your book?” she said, as her daughter leapt up from her chair and stormed into the kitchen.

“See?” Ben said pointing towards the rush of blonde hair that was just sprinting up the stairs, cupcake firmly clasped in her hand. “Don’t bring my daughter into this; she’s fine as she is. If you’ve got a problem with Callum being here, then that’s your problem and you’re the only one with it.”

Ian held his hands up in submission. “Well it’s not only me that’s got a problem, is it?” he said knowingly. “Or have you forgotten about your run in last week?”

“What run in?” Callum asked, turning towards Ben. His boyfriend just waved his hand in dismissal.

“I’m talking about you! You’re my brother, I want you to be happy he’s here. I want you to be happy for me,” Ben confessed, keeping his focus on Ian.

“I am happy for you!” his brother confirmed. “I’m fine with you both being here, although your moods could do with some improving. I mean was it really necessary to throw the vacuum down the stairs the other day?”

“Was it really necessary to start cleaning the carpet at the time of night?” Ben questioned back.

“I was trying to drown out the noise coming from your room,” Ian muttered, folding his arms and leaning back as if he had won the argument.

“Well there weren’t much noise once you started a spring clean at nine o clock at night. I’m trying to get my leg over and there’s a hoover banging against my bedroom door!”

“Ben!” Kathy exclaimed, shaking her head in disappointment. “We’re at the dinner table! Excuse my son, Callum. Decorum ain’t his strong point.”

Callum smiled in her direction. “That’s ok, Mrs Beale,” he replied, his cheeks flushing pink.

“Oh, call me, Kathy, please,” she replied, giving him a warm grin in return.

“You can call me Mr Beale.”

“Ian!” his mother scolded. “I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do with you two. I apologise for both my sons, Callum. I’d hope they’d learn a few manners with you about. Your mother must-“

Kathy stopped midsentence as Ben shook his head at her. Callum looked down, lightly scraping his fork along his plate. “Well I’d be proud to have you as a son. Instead, I’m stuck with these two ill-mannered swines.”

Ben jumped out of his seat and went round to his mother, enveloping his arms around her and planting kisses on her head. “But just think about how uneventful your life would be without us,” he replied jokingly, giving her one last kiss before coming to sit down.

“She doesn’t have to imagine, does she?” Ian remarked as Kathy scowled towards him. “Anyway, you’ve got a nerve complaining about banging, I thought the ceiling was going to cave in the other day,” the older man grumbled. “It’s like living with a pair of rabbits.”

“Thanks for a lovely meal, Callum!” Lola said, looking awkwardly around the table. “Real conversation starter!”

“I mean that wasn’t an awful experience, was it?” Ben said with a smile, as he wiped up a plate. “Better than how most our meals go actually.”

Giving a small shrug, Callum didn't feel as content with how dinner had gone. “I’m not sure your brother wants me here,” he commented quietly.

“He don’t want any of us here!” Ben replied shrewdly. “I can’t count the number of times he’s shoved the ‘For Rent’ adverts under Lola’s nose at breakfast.”

Grabbing a spare tea towel, Callum started to dry the cutlery. “I can go back to The Vic more,” he offered.

“Well that sounds like fun,” Ben said, with a roll of his eyes. “You ain’t got a room there! How long do you think it’s gonna be until Linda walks in on us? We’d be hearing about upholstery stains for years!”

Putting the spoons away that he was drying, he turned his back to Ben. “I meant I could go alone. Not every night, but just a few days a week,” he said hesitantly, picking at a thread on the cloth.

A drawer behind him slammed with such ferocity that it made the rest of the plates on the draining board topple over with a crash. “Don’t start this again,” he heard Ben say with a darkness in his voice.

Callum took a deep breath and turned around to meet narrowed eyes. “I’m not starting anything, I just don’t want your family to feel uncomfortable with me here,” he replied with a sigh, trying to make him understand his predicament.

“You are starting it again,” Ben commented sharply. “You’re putting other people before what you want, which means you’re putting them before us.”

“That’s what most people do, Ben,” Callum said, raising his voice slightly. “They put other people before themselves.”

“No Callum, it ain’t at all!” Ben replied, getting closer to him and gesturing heavily. “People are selfish and self involved and needy. You just don’t get it, cause you’re not like that. You’ve always had to do what you think your family wanted you to do. You can’t please everybody. It don’t work.”

Sinking back into the counter he felt deflated, lowering his head down. “I don’t know where I belong. I’ve just been going along with what everyone tells me and hoping it’s the best thing.”

Ben came and stood closer to him, taking his hands to regain contact. “You belong with me, don’t you? I can be needy and selfish enough for both of us,” he replied, his face softening.

Callum linked their fingers tighter and then dropped his head to Ben’s shoulder. He hated arguing with him. Being with him was the only place he did feel like himself. He curled his arms around Ben’s neck and leaned into kiss him.

“Oh, don’t mind me, I just came to get a cake,” Lola said as she entered the kitchen. “You can go back to humping against Ian’s cupboards in a second.”

“Here Lo, you don’t mind having Callum here do you?” Ben asked, putting his hands tightly around Callum’s waist.

Lola picked up a cake and started to eat the frosting. “No,” she replied with a shrug. “I’d rather have him here than you if we’re picking who to chuck out. I’ll see ya later.”

When she left the kitchen, Ben continued to hold Callum tight. “See you’ve got to stay,” he replied softly. “Lola likes you, Mum loves you, Lexi adores you and I’m quite fond of you too.”

Callum smiled down, before a thought came back into his mind. “What did Ian mean earlier? About a run in?” he asked, curious as to why his question had been so quickly dismissed earlier.

Ben leaned back and walked towards the sink, picking up the cloth again. “It don’t matter now.”

Callum reached over and snatched the tea towel back. “Something happened,” he stated clearly. He didn’t want to just be fobbed off. “Ben, I want to know.”

Ben sighed, folded his arms and leaned against the sink. “A few days after Christmas, I dropped in on Jay at work. On my way out, I ran into Mick.”

Callum nodded. “Yeah, he went to pick up a few bits and pieces for me from the flat,” he replied, unsure of where this was heading.

“Well, he was also picking up a mouthful from Bianca,” Ben explained, raising his eyebrows. “Followed by Whitney, who was having a go at both of them.”

“What did you do?” Callum asked hesitantly, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

“I retained a curt dignity and walked by without saying a word,” he replied with a grin

With a sigh, Callum rubbed his hands on his face. “What did you do?” he repeated, more forcefully this time.

Ben tried to give him his best innocent look. “I might have given Bianca a few home truths and suggested we’d all be better off if that car she crashed had rolled over a few more times,” he confessed, as Callum put his head back into his hands. “What? Like I’m not going to defend my fella against her screeching wail! Did you know she cheated with her mum’s boyfriend? She’s hardly one to start throwing around accusations.”

Looking down and picking at his fingers, Callum thought about how much trouble he caused. All this anger and fighting, it was all his fault. He ruined so many lives. “You shouldn’t have done that. We weren’t together, you needn’t have got involved.”

“I was angry at you. That don’t mean we weren’t together. I love you, when are you going to start believing that?” Ben replied, his tone filled with exasperation. He came to stand next to him, but Callum still couldn’t look him in the eye. “I’m hardly going to walk by and let Mick try to trot through a sea of fire as Bianca chucked your socks at him.”

“He never said anything,” Callum said, confused as why the landlord hadn’t mentioned it when he asked. He thought Mick was hiding something from him at the time, but quickly dismissed it.

Ben scratched his chin and started to bend his head to try and meet Callum’s lowered eyes. “Yeah well we told him not to and he agreed,” he replied honestly.

Callum did raise his head that time and met the eyes in front of him. “Who’s we? You and Jay?” he asked, still not quite believing that he hadn’t heard about this sooner.

Ben shook his head and started to chew at his lip. “No, he stayed in the parlour. Probably using some corpse as a body shield,” he said with a small laugh. “Your brother came along.”

“Stuart?” Callum asked incredulously. “What did he do?”

“He stood in the way of me and Mick, while Bianca threw a lamp at him. Gave him a right wallop on the head. I can’t say I was entirely disappointed; it seemed to shut Bianca up and she and Whit retreated back,” he said. “We both thought it best not to tell you. It must be the first time I’ve ever agreed with that ball of sludge.”

“I don’t need protecting!” Callum shouted, before remembering where he was and lowering his tone slightly. “Why does everyone think they know what’s best for me? I can fight my own battles and I can make my own decisions!”

“Can you? Cause it seems to me your lack of decision making has got us all into this mess?” Ben hissed back. “It took long enough to choose between me and Whit, didn’t it?”

Callum could feel something inside him snap, like a band that had finally been stretched to far. “Well maybe I chose wrong on that and all!” he snarled out. He immediately regretted it. He didn’t know where those words came from, he just wanted to lash out at someone. Ben’s face had fallen, the anger being replaced with hurt as he swallowed and cleared his throat, looking down at his shoes. Callum immediately strode to him, putting his hands on his face to lift it up so he could look Ben in the eye. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. You have to believe, I didn’t mean that.”

Ben’s eyes flickered to the side and he could see tears had formed in there, though they were struggling not to fall. “I know,” Ben whispered quietly, though an underlying tone in his voice told Callum that he wasn’t entirely convinced.

Brushing Ben’s cheeks with his thumbs, he leant forward and kissed his forehead. “I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I just wish I hadn’t made a mess of things, and I’m taking it all out on you.”

Leaning in to him, Ben seemed to relax slightly. “Well, at least you’re not afraid of hurting my feelings. That’s a start I suppose,” he said dryly. “I just feel like for every step forward we take, we seem to stumble backwards, Callum. We’re going around in circles. We can’t keep doing this.”

They stood there holding each other for several moments. Callum was afraid if he let go then Ben would tell him it was over, that he wasn’t worth all the hassle. So, he just held on as tight as he could, hoping it would be enough.

The next morning, Callum was watching Ben sleep as the day broke through the window once more. They had gone to bed soon after their argument the night before, Ben drifting off to sleep quite quickly. Callum however, just dozed on and off, the monsters in his stomach had risen and were biting and cursing him once more.

Arguing with Ben was perhaps the worse feeling; it left doubt and uncertainty in his mind over whether the other man would want him around for much longer. They hadn’t gone to bed on bad terms, but Callum knew that Ben was still hurting from the comment he made. It felt ridiculous that something like that would come from his lips. He knew it was the demons within him wanting to take away his happiness, believing that he deserved the same pain and heartache that he had caused others.

The hurt in Ben’s face had shot through his heart like shrapnel. He knew that his boyfriend could be loud and brash and looked like nothing could ever bother him, but he wasn’t like that, not really. He was sweet and affectionate and when you were in his gaze, it was like nothing in the world was more important. Callum leaned over and gently brushed a piece of hair out of his face.

“It’s hard to sleep when you’re trying to backcomb my barnet,” Ben muttered through fluttered eyelashes. He cricked his head from side to side as he stretched out his body.

“Sorry, I thought you were asleep,” Callum said, retreating his hand back.

“Pervert,” Ben said with a grin which made Callum feel automatically better. “It’s not the part of my body I would have liked to have woken up to you stroking, I must admit.”

Ben leant up to place a kiss on Callum’s lips and brought one hand to the back of his neck to deepen the contact. He needn’t have bothered though as Callum moved down covering half of Ben’s body with his, kissing him ferociously, as if he’d disappear out of sight if he ever stopped.

He felt Ben moan into his mouth audibly and he was frantically writhing their bodies together, moving his hands down to Callum’s back to keep him in place. He couldn’t help but think how beautiful Ben looked, his eyes twinkled like blackened jewels; lustful and scandalous, and his lips were blossom pink from contact. Callum didn’t understand how he could ever want anything else apart from being here.

Ben grabbed Callum’s hand and lowered it to his groin. Callum gave a small laugh at his unsubtle hint and obliged by running his fingers slightly up and down the front of the garment, tracing the length there. There was a growl in his ear, Ben clearly not happy with his teasing and he placed his hand over Callum’ pressing down while his hips bucked up in an uneven rhythm.

“You’re so impatient,” Callum commented with a laugh, as he leant down and kissed and sucked on the soft skin of Ben’s neck. He eventually gave in to Ben’s demands as he pulled Ben’s underwear down as much as he could from his position and started to work a rhythm that made his boyfriend happier.

“I’ve got to be in this house, haven’t I? If we go too long then Ian will start shoving a feather duster under the door,” he commented, bringing his hand to the back of Callum’s neck to encourage him to keep the same rhythm with his mouth as he was with his hand. “Fuck! Yes! Wait, why you stopping?”

Callum had stilled his movements and sat up a little, taking his hand off Ben and bringing it around to rest on his elbows, seeing the thunderous look on Ben’s face. “I am sorry about last night. I would choose you over anyone in the world. I love you.”

Ben gave a sigh, lifting himself off the bed slightly so they could look each other in the eye. “I love you too and I know you didn’t mean it, I really do, Callum. But baby if you don’t put your hand back on my dick within the next ten seconds they you’ll be sleeping on Shirley’s bedroom floor for the next week. Actions speak louder than words in this case!” he replied, laying back down expectantly.

Callum couldn’t help but smile as he moved back over his boyfriend’s body. There was a strong element of truth in what Ben had said. He could use all the words in the world, but he needed to prove himself with his actions.

Later that morning, Ben had gone to the car lot, despite trying to convince Callum that they should spend the whole day in bed. As nice as the idea may be, there was something he needed to do today. There wasn’t any use putting it off any longer.

As he stepped on to the Square, it seemed less daunting than it had the day before. People were passing him without comment and he couldn’t see anyone glaring at him. The day was bright and he could hold his head higher than before. Everything seemed a little bit better. Just a little.

Knocking on the door, he had to wait a minute before he heard someone unlock it. They opened it, before very quickly going to slam it shut. Callum put his hand out to stop it.

“Sonia, please,” he begged, using all his force to keep the door open.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t slam this door in your face!” she snarled out. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to Whitney?”

“Yes,” he replied simply. He didn’t understand why everyone thought he would be so unaware of the pain caused. There wasn’t a way out. He couldn’t have stayed with her; he realised that now. It was always destined to end in heartbreak. He may be the architect of that, but it didn’t mean he didn’t think about the repercussions. “I just need to speak to my brother.”

Sonia was clearly mulling it over in her head, but eventually opened the door, her scowl still prominent on her face. “He’s in the kitchen,” she informed him.

He gave her a small nod of thanks as he entered through the door and wiped his feet on the mat. Making his way through the hall, he could see his brother sitting down at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. Stuart looked towards him when he heard footsteps, smiling as he saw Callum.

“Y’all right little brother?” he said happily. “I didn’t expect to see you here today.”

Callum didn’t respond, just took a seat opposite his brother. “I need to talk to you,” he said, getting straight to the point. “I need to talk to you about Ben.”

Callum could see Stuart’s face fall, but it had all been swept under the carpet for far too long. It was one of many conversations Callum had tried to bury away instead of facing it head on.

Stuart sniffed and lent back in his chair. “What about him?” he replied, his voice low and challenging.

“A lot actually,” he replied and that was probably more than an understatement. “But first I want to talk about my wedding day and what happened. Someone smacked him over the head.”

“Shame,” Stuart replied, his tone deadpan. “Hasn’t seemed to wipe the smile off it though, has it?”

Callum ignored the comment, choosing to carry on with what he wanted to say. “For the longest time, I thought it was you. I just assumed it was you who battered him, because you did it before.”

Stuart nodded his head. “And now?”

“I know it weren’t you who hit him. I know who it really was.”

Chapter Text

Callum waited as Stuart seemed to be contemplating his brother’s words in his head. He leisurely scratched his nose and quirked his mouth. “Well don’t keep me in suspense,” he replied with a nervous chuckle. “Who was it? Ben finally get over his bit of amnesia, did he?”

“Nahh,” Callum replied. “He still don’t have a clue. There was someone that was there though, who saw everything. They said they saw a man in his forties, dark hair, large tattoo of an arrow on his arm, and this bloke knocked Ben out.”

Stuart shrugged dismissively. “There you go then. Just some random attack. Happens all the time, we don’t exactly live in the leafy suburbs do we? No harm done though, was there? Mitchell lived to drain another day, didn’t he?”

Callum almost laughed at that. The amount of damage done was immeasurable. He sometimes spent hours during the night thinking about the path not travelled. He thought constantly about how if Ben had turned up at the park on that morning, then the pain would have been lessened. He knew that Whitney’s heart would have still been broken, there was no scenario or event that could have prevented that, but at least he wouldn’t have dragged her through a wedding. At least it wouldn’t have been revealed in public, making them both face humiliation. At least he and Ben could have started their relationship properly and there wouldn’t be this tension between them, these overhanging flames set to drop at any time.

“It was weird though,” Callum replied in response to his brother. “I remember when I was younger, sitting on the steps of the pub waiting for Dad to come out. Sometimes, when I was waiting, I used to run over to the shop, get a can of coke and a bag of sweets. I was only thinking of that a few weeks ago.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Stuart replied, confusion dogging his face.

Callum leaned his arms on the table, feeling a confidence that he didn’t know he had. He wasn’t sure if it was the threat of losing his relationship with Ben, but he had a desire to fight. “Well, I couldn’t remember where I got the money from. It weren’t like Dad cared enough to give me any. Then I thought back and there used to be this geezer that Dad drank with, ex-forces I think, and when he passed me on the steps he’d chuck us a quid to get something to eat.”

“Yeah, well, as much as I enjoy stepping through a highlights reel of our childhood, I still don’t get the point.”

“See this fella, this mate of Dad’s, he had this tattoo on his arm. Really unusual it was, an arrow with little birds all around it,” Callum said, as he pulled out an envelope from his pocket and shoved it on his table, pointing to the picture etched there. “It looked exactly like this.”

Stuart glanced at the picture. “I didn’t know you was such a talented artist, little brother,” he exclaimed, not adding anything more to the conversation.

“Well, like I said. I had a witness. This is what they showed me,” he said intently, pointing down at the picture.

“Did they now? Well, lots of people have the same tattoos don’t they?” Stuart replied, keeping his face even.

Callum shook his head, too much water had gone underneath the bridge for him to believe in coincidences now. “Nah, not like this. And it weren’t a fluke that he turned up and randomly attacked Ben during daylight either,” he replied knowingly. “Someone got him to do it.”

Stuart huffed out an incredulous laugh. “And you think it was me? I ain’t even met the guy!”

“Yeah, I know that. You wasn’t there at that time, that’s why I was always sitting on the pub steps. He was dad’s friend,” Callum replied, the memory feeling vivid, the loneliness and the loss coming flooding back.

Stuart clapped his hands down on the table. “Well, there you have it then!” he exclaimed fiercely. “Dad being his usual self!”

“How’d he know, Stu?” Callum asked. He was done messing about. He just wanted answers. “How did he know about me and Ben. Why’d he send someone to get rid of him on my wedding day?”

Stuart stood up, the pretence finally cracking, as the chair crashed to the floor. “I saw you two together! Slinking off that night!” he said, his face crinkling up in disgust.

“What night?” Callum asked, feeling surprisingly relieved that he had the truth for once.

“Your stag night!” he shouted. “You know, the one you didn’t want your own brother at? I was coming over anyway, hoping you’d calm down and I saw you creeping out together and going into his house!”

“You called up Dad on me?” Callum replied. “Who’s made both our lives miserable? I can’t believe you did that. I can’t believe you did that knowing what he’d do! After everything you’ve said about him!”

Stuart slammed his hand down, causing Callum to flinch. “Mitchell was going to ruin everything for you! Everything you wanted; Whit, a good job and a nice flat,” he stated frantically. “You had everything a man could ever want and he was going to take it from you!”

“So you called Dad? And he got one of his thug cronies to come and drag Ben out the way to make sure I married Whit? That way you could keep your hands clean and make out that you was sorry about knocking him about the first time! Not only that, but you slipped Bobby a few quid to keep quiet and take Ben’s phone home. A young, vulnerable kid who’s just come out of prison and don’t know up from down!” Callum concluded, shoving the money that Bobby had given back to him on the table. “You’ve done some awful things, Stu, but this has to be up there. Creeping about and lying in order to ruin my life!”

“I was trying to save you Callum!” Stuart replied solemnly. “You was always a confused kid, always doing what other people wanted. He’d got into your mind and brainwashed you, just when you were settled.”

“I love him,” Callum replied. He wasn’t ashamed of admitting that to his brother. “He didn’t have to convince me or talk me round. It’s the opposite in fact. I’ve been going after him. Does that make me a…what was it you called him before? A pervert? Deranged?”

Stuart was quiet then, the cogs in his brain whirring and trying to make sense of the information. “I need you to explain it to me, Callum,” he said slowly. “Because I don’t get it. You have this beautiful, gorgeous bird and you’re chucking her away for some little gutter rat of a boy.”

“You don’t know him, Stu,” Callum said. “He is beautiful. He’s also sweet and lovely. And yes he’s brash and defensive, but it’s like we just connect together. Whitney’s great, she really is, but I don’t feel like I do when I’m with Ben.”

“Sweet and lovely?” Stuart replied incredulously. “I can’t even get my mind around you being…you know, but choosing him?”

“I’m gay, Stuart,” Callum said, the words echoing around the kitchen. “I didn’t choose Ben, I fell for him and we’re together.”

“What do you want me to say?” Stuart spat out. “That I’m happy? That this is what I wanted for you? That I’ll come round and have cocktails with you both at the gay bar? You’re married, I was there. You just gonna forget that?”

Callum absently rubbed the skin on his ring finger. He had taken his wedding band off. Really he’d never really worn it for long. He kept it in his bedside drawer when Whitney was away. No one really questioned it or noticed. There was a restriction when he wore it. He felt like a fox stuck in barbed wire, with no hope to be free. The metal band always strangled heavy against his finger. A reminder of his betrayal and the restriction of who he could be.

“You want me to be unhappy? Is that it?” Callum shouted, scratching his fingers roughly on the table, needing to get this frustration out somehow. “I couldn’t live like that Stu; it was killing me.”

Stuart’s face and whole demeanour softened. “I just wanted you to have everything I didn’t. I don’t want you to chuck everything away like I did.”

Callum knew he couldn’t make his brother understand. They came from the same place and life, but they were two different people. He’d always tried to be like his brother, to mimic him, to please him. It never felt right though. He wondered if everyone felt like that, all his brother’s mates and his friends that seemed to find joy and excitement in things he didn’t understand.

“I’m not,” Callum replied. “All those things you wanted for me, someone to settle down with, a place to live, a good job. That’s what I’m going to have.”

“With Ben,” Stuart asked incredulously, raising his eyebrows. The words fell out of his mouth like he was trying to spit out poison.

“With Ben,” Callum confirmed frankly. “And either you accept that, or you can’t be a part of my life.”

There was a part of him that felt guilty, that old side of him that felt he should do his best to please his brother, to keep quiet and not rock the boat. He knew he couldn’t go back to that, the hiding in plain sight. When he left, he knew Stuart was thinking things through. He loved his brother, but he couldn’t risk destroying things with Ben. He’d leave him to make his decision, Callum had been truthful and open. It was now out of his own hands. Just walking through the Square, something that he dreaded a few days ago, felt a little easier. He didn’t feel like he was fighting against himself. It was a start.

“Oi, mush, you ignoring me deliberately or you just got cloth in your ears?” a familiar voice behind him called out. Callum turned around to see Mick strutting towards him, a shopping bag hanging from his hand.

“Sorry, Mick, I was somewhere else,” he replied honestly. He hadn’t heard the man’s voice at all. He was feeling stronger with walking around, but he still liked to hide in his mind.

“You comin’ from your brother’s?”  Mick enquired, and he could see a hint of curiosity fly on the other man’s face.

Callum nodded gently. “I needed to talk to him. I couldn’t put it off for much longer,” he replied. That seemed to be his life. A whole list of things that he had shoved out the way and pretended weren’t happening.

 When he was a kid, he used to create his own world, happy to ignore the chaos and destruction going on around him. If he could just disappear for a bit into his own mind, then it would distract him from the shouting, the beating, the vicious words and the screams. Ignoring it didn’t make it go away, but it did put a cover over it.

It was a technique he used in the army as well. There was no getting away from the trauma and the risk, but there was a routine to the days. There were days that not everyone made it through unscathed, but the structure helped. He could take solace in his tasks, use them to help with the fact that the guy he was having a joke with the night before, wasn’t there the next day. Dwelling didn’t do any good. He pushed it down and kept on being the good soldier.

It all fell apart when he came to Walford and he still didn’t realise how. The whole of his life he was able to run and hide; he’d become an expert at moving so quickly that people wouldn’t truly notice he was there. The mistake had come in standing still. That’s when one person had truly seen him.

“He say anything else?” Mick enquired, scratching his stubble guiltily with his hand.

“It’s alright, I know there was a bit of aggro when you went to get my stuff from the flat,” Callum admitted. He couldn’t be mad at Mick about it. He knew he hated confrontation too.

Mick narrowed his eyes then. “Stuart told you then? Liberty after I was sworn to keep me mouth shut. He never knows when to shut up that one!”

Callum shook his head. “It weren’t him. Ben told me.”

“Well, your other half is a gobby one! A whole five-minute spiel he gave me when I said you deserved to know!” Mick replied, defending his actions.

“I know. I appreciate it Mick. I know Ben and Stu were only trying to protect me. I can look after myself though. At least I’m trying to,” he replied, hoping to calm the other man’s conscience a little. “I know I ain’t the most popular person on the Square at the moment, but I’ve brought it all on myself.”

Mick swaggered closely to rub his back. “You’re a diamond as far as I’m concerned, and don’t let no one tell you different. You’ve always got a place with us,” he replied fondly. “I thought we’d have a bit of lunch tomorrow at the Vic as a family. Bring Gobby Mouth and all. Let’s see if he can get a word in with Elle and me mother ranting on.”

Callum smiled, though he was a little intimidated at the thought of another group meal, at least it would be with people that he considered family. “That would be good, Mick. Cheers,” he answered gratefully. He had felt so alone for so long, but the fog was starting to disappear, and he could sense understanding around him.

The back door to the Beale’s was open, though he had a key if needed. He liked to carry it around with him, a token of acceptance and approval. Walking into the kitchen, he could see Ben making a sandwich at the counter. He wrapped his arms around him from behind, giving him a quick kiss to the back of the head, before walking into the lounge to take off his jacket and hang it on the back of the chair.

When he turned around, Ben was standing in the doorway staring him, like he had surprised him in some way. “What?” Callum questioned, unsure what he’d done wrong.

“Nothing,” Ben replied, shaking his head slightly. “I just forget sometimes is all. About you, I mean.”

“Oh. Thanks,” Callum replied quietly, fiddling with the zip on his hoodie. “Nice to know I stick in your mind.”

Ben gave a loud sigh and quickly approached him, placing his arms around Callum’s waist and gripping on. “I didn’t mean I forget about you!” he replied with a chuckle. “I meant that when you’re not there, it all seems too good to be real. Like I’ve made you up in my head.”

“I went to speak to my brother today,” he replied, not wanting to ruin Ben’s good mood, but feeling that he needed to be honest. “The wedding day. It were him. I mean, he weren’t the one that hit you, but he was involved. It was a mate of my dad’s.”

Ben gave a nod, removed his arms from Callum’s waist, giving his hip a squeeze as he went, then started to walk back into the kitchen. “Want do you want in your sandwich? I’ve stolen most of Ian’s ham, so we might as well use it all up.”

Callum blinked, confused by Ben’s response. He’d definitely said the words; they’d come out of his mouth, he was sure of it. He had expected shouting or demands to march right over there and confront Stuart. Not this. Not dismissal. “Is that all you’ve got to say?”

Ben took a bite of his sandwich and leaned against the counter. “If you want to put both mustard and mayonnaise in, then you’re going to have to do that yourself. That’s just weird and frankly makes me question why we’re together.”

“Ben!” Callum cried loudly. It had been weeks now since Bobby had come to see him at the funeral parlour and he had been carrying his confession around. He was constantly worried at how Ben would react once he found out that the last few months could have gone so differently if it wasn’t for his interfering family.

“Did you really think I didn’t know?” Ben said huffing and putting his food down. “It weren’t exactly a mystery from Midsommer Murders, were it? Me getting bashed over the head the day of your wedding. I know I’m a pain in the arse around here, but it weren’t likely to be anyone else giving me a whack, drugging me and locking me up minutes away from you walking down the aisle, was it? Stuart must have seen us together, right?”

Callum was almost open mouthed. He couldn’t believe that Ben had assumed it was down to Stuart and had let it go. “The night of my stag, he saw us leave the Vic.”

“Yeah, figures.” Ben replied with a slight snarl. “He’s always lurking about you like a psycho stalker.”

Callum knew there was one more confession he had to make. “Bobby…” he started, unsure how to broach the subject.

“I know about that and all,” Ben replied unexpectedly, opening up the fridge. “You really think my phone just magiced itself back into the house that day? Shifty little sod. I don’t think he meant anything by it. We were all going through some stuff and didn’t make the best choices that week.”

There was a slight silence then, Callum going over what Ben had said to him and why he had kept it to himself. “Why don’t you tell me these things?” he asked softly. “I ain’t going to break.”

“We’ve both kept our secrets, ain’t we?” Ben said, pulling some more bread out the packet, and starting to butter it. Callum knew there was a slight edge to his voice. He didn’t want to push it. There was still a barrier between them as hard as Callum tried to break them all down. “Look, there you are. I made your weird arse sandwich because I would do anything for you. Tomorrow you’re on your own though.

A thought appeared in Callum’s head. “About tomorrow lunchtime,” he started to reluctantly say. “You ain’t busy are you?”

“Well I suppose I could always cancel the plans I’ve got with the other guy I’ve got on the go. Joke!” Ben said when he saw Callum’s face. “We always have lunch together, don’t we? Why, you got something special planned?”

Clearing his throat, he approached Ben and took his hand. “We’ve been invited to lunch at the Vic.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Oh God, don’t make me sit around and eat a stale cheese roll while Linda’s glaring at me over a chardonnay,” he complained, letting his head fall against Callum’s shoulder. “Can’t we just stay here? Everyone will be out. We can just curl up together on the sofa.”

As if to make his point Ben swung his hands around Callum’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss. He let himself be coerced by gentle lips for a second, before pulling slightly back. “I promised,” he said softly, leaning forward briefly so their noses gently bumped. “I’ll owe you.”

“You don’t owe me nothing,” Ben replied in a whisper, gently stoking the hair on Callum’s neck and pressing his body closer. “Though, as I’ve graciously agreed to have the lunch from hell tomorrow, you can maybe do me a bit of a favour.”

“Anything,” Callum replied, slipping his hands below Ben’s shirt. He meant it as well. It was almost hypnotic, this draw he felt when in his presence. Even if he wanted to he couldn’t keep away. He’d fully accepted it after fighting the feeling for so long. “What do you need?”

“Sharon’s throwing a family dinner tomorrow on the account she’s gonna drop soon. So, I thought we could go together,” he said moving in for another kiss.

Callum took a slight step back. “You want me to have dinner with the Mitchells?” he asked, hoping Ben would change his mind. The dinner with Ian and the rest of the family had been bad enough, and he had been living with them. The other side of his boyfriend’s family were even more daunting.

“You want me to have lunch with the Carters!” Ben retorted back.

“It’s different. Every time you go there for dinner, you tell me what an awful experience it is!”

“Well, The Carters are hardly the height of social etiquette, are they? Have you seen Shirley eat?”

Callum let out a laugh which made Ben’s face change completely as he gave him a soft smile. “I just think they’re going to hate me,” he replied quietly.

Ben grabbed his hand. “It’s me they hate,” he replied, linking their fingers. “At worst, they’ll just find you a mild annoyance.”

“Well that’s made me feel better,” Callum replied. He just wasn’t made for being impressive and chatty during large gatherings.

“It’s fine; it’s what they do. They’re so wrapped up in their own dramas, we’ll just fly under the radar,” Ben replied confidently, though Callum could sense doubt in his voice. “And we’ll get so drunk at lunch that we’ll still feel the buzz at dinner.”

Callum nodded. He could do this. No more hiding. That was the deal.

Ben gave him a lopsided grin. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”

Twenty four hours later, they were braced to enter the pub. Callum pushed against the door of the Queen Vic, gripping Ben by the hand and pulling him with him. The bar was quiet and he nodded in greeting to Tracey, who was currently serving. As he rounded the corner, he could see The Carters had pushed a few tables together and were sitting around them.

“There they are,” Mick called out cheerfully. “Come sit down.”

Callum gave a reassuring smile towards Ben. He could see his boyfriend’s battle armour going up, so he just stroked his fingers gently in reassurance. “Two pints, please Trace,” he called as they walked towards the group.

There was a space with two chairs at the table and Callum took the seat next to Tina, leaving Ben to sit next to Shirley. There was silence for a moment, before Linda could clearly bear it no longer. “I’ve done shepherd’s pie. I hope that’s alright with everyone?” she said, looking pointedly at Ben.

“Yeah, except she couldn’t find any lamb at the Minute Mart so it’s just bits of chicken cut up small,” Tina said, before Ben had a chance to respond.

“Well, perhaps if it hadn’t been sprung on me this morning that I had to make lunch for six people, then I would have time to get the right ingredients!” she hissed back.

“Alright, alright. We ain’t here to have a barney,” Mick interrupted. “We’re gonna have a nice bit of nosh together to make Halfway and Ben feel part of the family.”

“Part of the family?” Shirley exclaimed. “All right, Don Corleone, don’t go overboard. It’s a bit of Smash on top of some chicken and gravy! Halfway spent a best part of a year staying here and this one’s lived within spitting distance since he was born. We’re hardly inducting new recruits are we?”

“Yes alright, Mother!” Mick snapped back. “We just want to make them feel at home here, don’t we?”

“They’ve got their names scratched into the wall of the gents!” Linda replied. “Any more at home and we’ll find them moved into our bedroom.”

“That was me,” Callum said, raising his hand timidly. “I’m sorry. I got a bit carried away.”

Ben shook his head. “No actually it was me,” he said forcefully. “And I ain’t that sorry.”

“Yeah alright Spartacus,” Shirley responded with an eye roll, elbowing Ben. “I knew your hand had to be in it somewhere.”

“Right, let’s just eat shall we, before the mutton in this pie starts bleating again!” Mick said, starting to dish out the food onto plates.

“Actually, there’s no lamb in the-“

“Yes, alright Tina!” Linda screeched impatiently. “We know! Let’s just have a nice lunch shall we?”

The sound of metal scraping the dishes dominated the table as the voices became silent again. Callum was surrounded by some of the loudest people in his life and yet they seemed out of words to say. He knew he was the connecting factor here and felt a responsibility to speak up. “How’s the new menu working out at the bar, Tine?” he asked, taking a plate from Mick.

Tina nodded her head enthusiastically as she swallowed her mouthful. “It’s so good. See, I knew you’d be a big help!” she said gripping his hand appreciatively.

“What’s this?” Linda asked, taking her first mouthful of food, chewing slightly and then trying to hide her grimace.

“Halfway’s helped me to rewrite the menu for The Prince Albert. It’s so fantastic!” Tina replied enthusiastically.

“You didn’t waste any time, did you?” Shirley said, aiming the comment at her sister and shoving a forkful of food into her own mouth. “Has his membership card even come through? A few weeks ago he was living in unhappy matrimony with Cinderella. Just cause he then started boffing Buttons here, it don’t mean he’s become a poster boy overnight!”

Linda threw her fork down. “That’s lovely talk for the dinner table! I’m trying to enjoy my food here!” she exclaimed, swishing her pie around her plate with her knife.

 “That’s not exactly how it happened, Shirl,” Ben said, taking a sip of the pint Tracey had placed on the table.

“Well you must have only been back in the Square five minutes before you started knocking at his boots. You didn’t waste any time! What did you do? Eye him up on the way out of the taxi?” Shirley replied.

Ben shook his head and then pointed towards the far side of the pub. “Nahh, right over there actually. He was working behind the bar.”

Callum put his cutlery down and then looked curiously towards Ben. “What you were interested in me back then?”

Ben shrugged his shoulders. “You looked gorgeous, didn’t you? Hard not to notice you,” he replied, gently stroking a finger down Callum’s hand. Shirley chuckled slightly to herself.

“What?” Ben asked, looking towards her.

“Nothing. Just you two are actually quite sweet with each other,” she remarked, chewing loudly on a piece of meat.

Ben flashed her a smile. “You’re getting sentimental in your old age, Shirl. Time to hit the retirement home.”

“I may have said you were sweet together but I still can’t stand either of you for too long! You were both weirdo kids I should have known you’d track each other down at some point,” she replied, scooping some potato onto her fork.

“Well I can’t say you got together in the best possible way,” Linda started, and Callum could feel Ben start to tense beside him. His biggest fear about the meal was that Ben and Linda would get into an argument; they had such differing points of view.

“Can we just eat the lamb pie without any aggro?” Mick interrupted, to Callum’s relief.

“It ain’t-“

“Alrght, Tine! Lamb, chicken, peacock, whatever is in this bit of gravy, can we just eat calmly?” the landlord begged.

“West Side Story,” Callum blurted out, and all eyes were on him. “Me and Ben were watching it the other day. You like that don’t you Linda?”

“Oh, it’s one of my favourites,” she replied, a smile appearing immediately on her face. “Not your usual style though is it, Halfway?”

“Nah, he fell asleep after about five minutes,” Ben said, grinning over to Callum. “I’ve seen it loads though so I could still watch through his snoring.”

“I don’t snore!” Callum objected, as the table laughed. This felt natural now, to be sitting around a table with all the people he loved.

“Mick says the same! He wakes himself up with his snoring sometimes and then blames Lady Di!” she giggled. “So is it just the one musical you like Ben, or are there more?”

A few hours later, they were both poised to enter the Mitchell house. The lunch at the Vic had gone well at the end, much better than expected, and Callum found himself having a good time. Ben thrust open the back door and Callum followed him into the kitchen. It was filled with steam, there were pots everywhere and a strange smell filled the air.

“Going well?” Ben asked a hurried and very pregnant Sharon.

She plastered on a smile to her pink tinged cheeks. “Almost ready,” she promised, brushing her sweaty fringe out of her eyes. “Lou’s been helping, haven’t you darlin’?”

Louise glanced up from her phone, looking like she’d not even lifted a spoon to help. “I thought we were just going to chuck something in the microwave.”

Sharon continued to smile, the corners gradually fading though and the stress clear in her eyes. “We’re making dinner for over a dozen people. That’s not going to be done in three minutes, Louise,” she replied harshly, before taking a breath and turning back to Ben and Callum. “Go through, boys. It won’t be a tick.”

Callum was thankful to leave the kitchen, but as they entered the lounge unsettlement hit him, being faced by so many people in a small space. Their eyes had all turned towards him and he felt like prize cattle being led around at an auction. Thankfully, he saw Jay approaching him.

“Alright, mate?” his boss said, giving him a pat on the arm. “Welcome to the mad house.”

Callum gave him a smile and let his eyes focus on the rest of the people in front of him. These were all people he knew, who he had made conversation with when serving in the pub or in the middle of the market. This was different though; that had been someone who was wearing a mask, hiding beneath polite chat and pleasantries. He felt exposed here, like the real him was in full view now they all knew about him and Ben. His relationship was the most intimate, raw part of him and to have it be under the gaze of all these eyes at once was disconcerting.

“Oh Callum, I didn’t know you were coming with Ben,” Honey exclaimed not entirely enthusiastically. “It’s nice that you’re out.”

Billy started shaking his head next to his ex-wife. “Hon…”

Honey looked around, confused the expressions of people’s faces. “What?”

“We don’t need to get the fanfare out do we,” Phil intercepted, barely looking towards them. “Can we just sit at the table? Sharon’s been slaving away all morning, in her condition as well, to make us a good bit of grub.”

Everyone took a seat, while they heard a loud clanging in the kitchen. He noticed Ben glare towards Keanu who was sat next to Phil near the head of the table. Callum placed his hand on his thigh to remind Ben he was here and to calm him.

“Right everyone, here we are!” Sharon exclaimed as she placed a dish on the table. “Tuck in before it gets cold. I’ll grab the veg! Phil, a hand?”

Callum glanced curiously at the meat in the centre of the table. It wasn’t his place to say anything though. The rest of the group didn’t hold their tongues quite as well.

“Is lamb meant to be that colour?” Honey enquired curiously. “I thought it was all the rage to have it nice and pink, like they do on Masterchef.”

Jay looked at Honey sceptically. “What makes you think it’s lamb?” he asked, poking at it with a fork.

“Well it’s spring isn’t it! Spring lamb!” Honey answered enthusiastically, as she sniffed the air to try and determine the origin from its smell.

“It’s January twenty sixth^h!” Jay exclaimed. “I almost froze my bits off on the walk over here, and I’ve spent the morning at a morgue! There ain’t no lambs prancing about in January!”

“It’s spring somewhere in the world though, ain’t it clever clogs!” Billy responded giving a nod towards Honey. “They’ll have lambs there.”

“Sharon didn’t go trekking across the Australian outback to pick this up though did she Bill!” Jay exclaimed. “That…whatever it is, will be from the Minute Mart. You probably sold it to her, Hon.”

“There ain’t no lamb at the Minute Mart,” Callum interrupted, remembering the detail from earlier, as all eyes turned towards him. “Apparently.”

Ben put his hand over Callum’s where it was still resting on his knee. He could tell he was looking at him out of the corner of his eye, trying to keep the connection that grounded him.

“Well I ain’t eating it first!” Billy exclaimed. “What if it’s some sort of weird animal like an armadillo or something.”

“Sharon’s idea of exotic cuisine is egg fried rice. You really think she’s going to get something she can’t spell?” Ben remarked back. “Keanu can try a bit first.”

“Oh Ben, don’t start!” Louise exclaimed. “No one’s interested or impressed with your smart arse remarks.”

Ben opened his mouth to retort back, but they were all interrupted by Sharon and Phil entering with more dishes to place down on the table. “Come on! Get started!” she said happily. “Don’t want the ham getting cold!”

Everyone around the table squinted in confusion at the meat, Honey mouthing the word ‘ham’ across the table in question, as everything was being dished up. “This is an interesting flavour. I can’t say I’ve ever had anything quite like it,” she offered up, as she nibbled a little from her fork.

“It’s been marinating in soya sauce, balsamic vinegar and guacamole overnight,” Sharon replied. “I found the recipe online and thought I’d give it a go. Callum you cook don’t you? What do you think?”

He could sense Ben smirk next to him. “It’s quite a fusion of different flavours,” he said, taking a mouthful to placate his host and to stop any further questioning.

“Did Whitney like your cooking?” Louise asked, glaring towards Ben, before grimacing as she swallowed her food.

“You were a chef in the army weren’t you, Callum?” Honey enquired, trying to subtly stack her carrots on top of the ham on her plate. “How exciting! All those lovely places and men in uniform to see.”

Louise started choking. “He was in the right place then!”

“What?” Honey asked in confusion, before she took in the expressions of the table. “Oh I didn’t mean that was the only reason you joined the army. I’m sure the men had nothing to do with it!”

“He’s with Ben so clearly gorgeous, brave guys ain’t his thing!” Louise snickered.

“You’ve shacked up with the local wallpaper; hardly catch of the day is he?” Ben replied, snarling in their direction. “Offence meant, Keanu.”

“Very good Ben,” Keanu replied sarcastically. “Stay up all night thinking of that witty retort did you?”

“It weren’t that keeping me up all night,” Ben replied, emphasising his words with a smirk, before Callum kicked his ankle under the table.

“Oh, I’m sorry are we supposed to be jealous of your relationship,” Louise replied. “Quick question, I need to update my calendar, when do we count your anniversary? Is it when you started sneaking around behind Whitney’s back, his wedding day or when Bobby Beale spat out your dirty secret in the pub?”

“When do celebrate yours? Is it the day that dad stopped paying Keanu to go out with you?” Ben spat back.

“Would you both stop it!” Phil bellowed out, his face turning a beetroot pink. “You’re both behaving like a couple of kids. Sharon’s made a delicious meal, we’ve got a guest and you two are bickering like you’re just out of nappies!”

Callum continued to hack up the meat on his plate, but he noticed Ben still his movements in the seat next to him. He looked over and saw his boyfriend’s eyebrows pinched and jaw clenched

“This tastes disgusting,” Dennis blurted out, spitting his mouthful of food into a napkin.

Sharon was wide eyed at the response. “Denny!”

“What?” the young teenager replied. “Everyone’s thinking it. Honey’s put potatoes over hers.”

“Who?” Ben said after a moment, looking towards his Dad.

“What you on about?” Phil replied, screwing up his face.

“Who’s the guest?” Ben replied. Callum gave a sigh. He knew where this was going. He knew once something had bitten Ben, there would be hell to pay before he shook it off.

“Ben,” Callum said quietly, hoping to get his attention. He nudged their knees together in comfort, but it was like his boyfriend was in a bubble. Callum wished he wouldn’t take things to heart, but then that’s part of what made him. He was passionate and that came out in some fantastic ways, but also destructive ones.

“Well, who do you think?” Phil laughed out loud, as he pointed his knife towards Callum. “You brung him. Did you forget he was there?”

“Callum,” Ben said, his voice seemingly calm, but the anger brewing and rippling was obvious. “His name is Callum and why is he the guest? Why not Keanu? He ain’t family either.”

Phil put down his cutlery, clearly sensing his son’s tone. “I didn’t mean it like that, did I?” he replied in frustration. “Besides, Keanu lives here.”

Ben nodded. “He don’t pay rent, he don’t pay bills, but one of the family, sure,” he replied scathingly. “Alright then, what about Honey? Her and Bill ain’t even together, she’s hardly still in the inner circle. No offence, Hon.”

Honey waved away the objection. “I think you make a nice couple actually,” she said, pointing towards them both, and Callum could sense Ben’s shoulder’s drop a little, the tension start to fall away. “I mean obviously not an ideal start, but then not every couple do! Look at Romeo and Juliet; their families tried to keep them apart, but it all ended up ok in the end.”

“The both died at the end!” Jay said, shaking his head. “It literally couldn’t have gone worse.”

“Did they? I must have missed the end of that film!” she exclaimed.

“It was a book, Honey.” Keanu answered. “They made it into a film.”

“It’s a play actually,” Ben corrected, glaring over to the other side of the table. “They not teach that in hobo school?

“We couldn’t all receive an education at her Majesty’s pleasure, could we?”

There was a smash of a plate hitting the table. “Will you all stop it! There’s children in the room and I’m about to add one more!” Sharon screamed out. “I’ve slaved all day making a dinner and all I get is row after bloody row! Oh.”

Sharon leaned heavily against the table causing the glasses to shake. “What’s the matter? Is it the baby?” Phil said jumping up, his chair falling backwards.

“It’s fine, Phil!” Sharon said as Keanu and Honey got out of their chairs and approached her. “Just a twinge.”

Lowering herself back into her chair, she waved away everyone. “You had to start, didn’t you?” Phil criticised, gesturing towards Ben. “You couldn’t just be happy that everyone’s here. Now look what’s happened!”

Ben chewed on his lip and nodded. “No, you’re right. I should just sit here, shut up and be thankful that I’ve got a place round the table and my fella’s allowed to step foot through the door. Dead grateful, cheers.”

“Don’t start this again,” Phil replied angrily. “You stride over here when you want something, shouting off your mouth the minute you’re through the door. No one’s listening, Ben!”

Callum could sense the movement before it happened and stretched out his hand to grab Ben’s arm. It was too late though, as his boyfriend rose out of his seat and walked away from the table without a word.

“Was that really necessary?” Jay asked, rubbing his face across his hands.

“He’s having a temper tantrum. What did you expect?” Keanu replied, sitting back and taking a mouthful of food.

Jay rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying he ain’t a pain in the backside, but it ain’t just his fault.”

“Give him an hour and then he’ll be back.” Phil said, sitting back down. “He’s only happy if the attention’s on him.”

“No he ain’t!” Callum said loudly, before he could think about the words leaving his mouth. He’d felt almost frozen to the spot since Ben left. Stuck in a place with strangers, surrounded by critical tongues and harsh eyes. There were times that Ben had returned from Phil’s house elated and on cloud nine due to some comment his dad had made. Most of the time though, he had a face of thunder, all the confidence sucked out of him. “He likes it here. He wants to be part of the family, but he never feels accepted. It messes with his head what you’re doing to him. It’s cruel and he don’t deserve that.”

Callum got up and pushed his chair in, making his way towards the door. He stopped and turned back. “He was really happy about today. About everyone being here. None of you noticed,” Callum said. “Thanks for the dinner, Sharon.”

Callum been looking for Ben for the past hour now. He’d checked at home, but Kathy said she hadn’t seen him since they left that morning. He wasn’t at the car lot or the Arches and Callum was running out of ideas. He was starting to think that Ben didn’t want to be found. Perhaps though, he would be willing to let Callum find him, so he made his way of the first place that entered his mind.

The park was deserted, the dusk hitting the grass lightly as the sun and moon started to share the sky. There was a lone figure sitting down, his silhouette making a shadow. “Bit late, aren’t you?” Callum said, as he swung his legs over the bench to take a seat. “We’re supposed to meet here five months ago.”

“Well things never go according to plan, do they?” Ben replied, still not looking up at him. “They always disappoint you in the end.”

Callum gave a half smile and took Ben’s hand from across the table. “Not always.”

“Really?” he replied harshly, and Callum felt the immediate loss and ice when Ben drew his hand back. “We’ve been together for months and we still ain’t gone out in public together. Who’s fault is that?”

Callum could sense his hackles rise as well. It felt like the same fight was just following them around like a cloud, ready to hurl down the rain and clash out the thunder when Ben’s mood so commanded it. “What were we supposed to do? Sit in the corner of the Vic and kiss before Whit knew?”

Ben threw his head back and laughed. “That’s right of course. We couldn’t risk hurting poor Whitney’s feelings could we? You were more than prepared to go down on me in in the gents like some dirty, drunken sordid secret, but we can’t kiss out in the open because your little beard might get watery eyes,” Ben spat out towards him. “Don’t matter about my feelings, does it? Everyone knows Ben Mitchell don’t have any!”

Callum ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. It was no use talking to Ben when he was in this mood. The fire in his eyes was too explosive to see through. “Don’t do this.” Callum said, starting to feel annoyance of his own. His whole life had flipped around in the last year since he met Ben. It was a lot for him and he wouldn’t be pushed on someone else’s timeline. “You know how I feel about you.”

“Maybe,” Ben conceded reluctantly. “But no one else does. They still see me as the scheming bloke that led the nice, sweet boy astray. They ain’t got a clue. I’m tired of being second best in everyone’s eyes. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

He got off the bench and started walking across the park. Callum felt frozen again.  There had been comfort in the stability of the situation when he was with Whitney.  It was easy to hide, to blend in and not be seen by really anybody at all. People’s eyes hovered over him, but never looked. They never saw. There was a peace to that, to disappearing in plain sight and knowing that your secrets were safely hidden beneath. People weren’t even scratching the surface, so there was no risk of them seeing deeper down.

Then he had met Ben, and looking back, the difference to his life was almost immediate. He was so used to people brushing past, that it was striking when he realised that he was being appraised, being stared out, noticed in the crowd. It was like he had been sitting in a dark room his whole life and someone had turned the light on. It was unsettling in a way; he almost felt naked, to be so stripped bare of all those outer layers he’d held on to so tightly and so assuredly for so long.

The predictability that was there when he was with Whitney had gone. He felt exposed and scrutinised, and all those secrets, all those personal thoughts and longings that he’d hidden from everyone including himself, were just bursting to the surface trying to catch a breath of air. He had been seen. He had been looked at. The room was a lot more daunting with someone else in it, but also a lot less lonely.

It never really occurred to him that maybe Ben had been sitting in that dark room too. That he hadn’t been alone really, that there was always someone there capable of bringing him out into the moonlight. Callum felt awash with selfishness. Ben always seemed so strong to him, so beautifully confident. There was just a beam around him, and maybe no one else noticed it, but Callum did. This brightness that seemed cool at first, but if you were lucky enough to step into it if felt like the warmth of a thousand suns.

Callum leapt off the bench and headed back to the Square, sprinting a little here and there so he could catch up with Ben. His boyfriend’s final words rang through his brain. There had been so many times since he met Ben that he had told himself that he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be thinking about this smirky boy who tried to do him over on a van sale. He shouldn’t be standing alone at night in a park, blurting out all his secrets. He shouldn’t let their lips touch and their bodies clash. He shouldn’t grip his hand like it was the only thing keeping him from sinking. He shouldn’t be throwing away a seemingly perfect life for one that was unknown and unpredictable. He shouldn’t replace the sweet, stable love of a wonderful woman for a love that was chaotic and messy, that made his nerves itch and his breath catch. He shouldn’t be doing this.

Yet, he had always done what he was supposed to do. Always. Or at least what people around him had wanted him to do. They were the same thing to him. As long as it made other people happy and didn’t get them hurt, then that was the most important thing. He would remain in the dark, hiding and hurting, so those around him could bathe in the light.

Catching up with Ben, he could see his boyfriend walking ahead of him, getting towards the Square. His head was down and his stride mellowed and it ached for Callum to see him this way. He’d been in the blackness longer than Callum, it had etched on his soul more, covered and crawled over him like a veil. There were moments though that they could both open their eyes and look, and he could see that darkness wisp out of Bens soul. That wasn’t the case now, where the moon was covered by clouds that refused to let its glow out. Callum had done that to him, he realised. In trying to protect everyone else, he was dragging them both back into the shade. The one person he wanted to keep in the light.

“Ben!” he called out, jogging a little to catchup. “Will you stop for a second please? Can we just talk?”

His boyfriend swung around so quickly that Callum almost ran into him. “About what? What more can we possibly say? We just go around and around until I give in!”

“You’re angry, I get that. You’re angry at your dad, but don’t let it hurt us!” Callum replied, his hands raised in submission.

Ben’s eyes widened and his mouth snarled. “I’m the one hurting us, am I? I’m the one that kept backing off? I’m the one that married someone else? I’m the one that doesn’t what to be seen in public with you, is that right?” Ben shouted, the tears in his eyes betraying the fury in his voice and demeanour.

“Why do you have to twist things?” Callum replied, dropping his hands to his sides. “You know it’s not like that between us. You know.”

A voice behind them gave a loud cackling laugh. “Ha! Love’s young dream not quite working out?” Bianca scoffed. “You bored of him already, Ben?”

Callum turned to see Whitney and Tiffany with their mother. It was the first time he had properly been eye to eye with his wife since Christmas. He had seen her around the Square, but there was always other people or circumstance separating them.

“Where’s your fella, Bianca?” Ben called back, clearly in the mood for a fight. “He chucked you out by your shellsuit has he?”

Before Bianca could respond, Whitney stepped forward and looked straight at Callum. “Worth it was it?” she said quietly. “This bloke you’re having a slanging match in the street with; he was worth our marriage was he?”

“Whit, please,” Callum begged. If he could just sit and talk to her properly, he knew he could make her understand. “I can explain everything to you.”

“Well, I’ll leave you alone with the missus then,” Ben barked behind him, turning to walk away.

Callum took a deep breath looking towards Ben’s retreating figure and back towards Whitney’s expectant face. “It don’t matter, Whit. I’m sorry.”

As Whitney, shook her head and headed off to the Vic with her family, Callum started walking after Ben again. This time not calling out, but grabbing his arm to make him stop. Ben kept on resisting, trying to shake him off, so Callum hung on tighter and then crowded him into the fence quickly, using all his force as Ben tried to get out of his grip.

“Let go, Callum.” he said quietly. “You’ve got to let go.”

Callum only held on tighter. “Not of you I don’t. Please, Ben.”

He felt the tension loosen in Ben, and he stopped trying to struggle away. Callum slackened his grip from Ben’s jacket and they both leaned against the metal, breathing heavily. He tugged on Ben’s sleeve affectionately, and led him to sit down on the bench.  The air was cold, whipping gently at Callum’s cheek and singeing his nose. They were silent, the music and voices from the pub lingering slightly around them. The clouds were starting to pass and the moon was getting brighter.

“You are such hard work,” Ben said, breaking the quiet. “I mean, you’re worth it, but god you’re difficult.”

Callum looked towards him then, raising his eyebrows.

Ben let out a chuckle. “Everyone thinks it’s the other way round,” he said. “They think that I’m leading you on, that I ripped your life apart. They think I control you and I’m ready to break your heart at any moment.”

“They don’t know you,” Callum said firmly. “They don’t know me.”

“I can’t keep away from you,” Ben said defeatedly. “I just keep on coming back. So, it’s on you. What are you going to do, Callum? You need to decide.”

He wanted to stay out here, sitting with Ben in the moonlight. Callum couldn’t claim to be any sort of expert or have much knowledge about art, but turning towards Ben, he looked like a painting, his skin bathed in hues of blue, eyes stung bright from tears, yet so distant. Callum reached out his hand and ran it down Ben’s cheek, needing to feel him, needing something concrete to help him believe he wasn’t just an inaccessible picture.

Ben’s lip half quirked at the touch and even the slight movement arrowed straight to Callum’s heart. How could he ever put this feeling second? There was nothing like it in the world, to just sit here next to Ben and let the world whirl around them.

Instinctively, he jumped up from the bench and grabbed Ben’s hand, hoisting him up too. “Where are we going?” he asked, as Callum pulled him behind him as he strode across the Square. Ben wasn’t resisting him though; he seemed to sense the purpose in Callum’s actions and followed him.

Callum gripped Ben’s hand even harder as he forcefully pushed the door of the Vic open. He didn’t stop to think too much or let any thoughts nibble at his head; they would only make him self-doubt and he had to do this. He wanted to do this.

It felt like a hundred pairs of eyes were on him, glaring and disapproving at his hand that was gripped in Ben’s. On Christmas Night, he had felt the same pressure of their gaze, but this time he wasn’t going to be scared of them. They couldn’t hurt him.

He gently pushed Ben against a bar stool, nodding for him to take a seat. His boyfriend looked confused, but he understood Callum well enough to know that this was important. He trusted him and Ben gave him a small smile of encouragement. Looking closer at the faces there were staring intently at the pair, it seemed the whole Square was out in force tonight. Bianca’s glare was the harshest, but he could see the Mitchells had come for an after-dinner drink too. Trust him to pick the one night everyone was watching.

“Alright, Halfway? What can I get you?” Mick asked, as he walked down the length of the bar. Callum didn’t answer him though. He didn’t want to stop, he needed his heart to take over his head and if he listened for just a moment he knew those monsters in his stomach would start growling louder. Pacing quickly, he rounded the bar, pushed carefully past a shocked Linda and rang the bell loudly.

Once when he was a kid at school, they had a show at Christmas. It had a nativity; some kids sang some carols and some had to read some poems or stories. They were all made to take part. Callum wanted to be a sheep. He wanted to sit at the back of the stage all curled up in a cotton wool outfit with all the other sheep and not be noticed by anyone. In order to be an animal in the nativity, you had to bring in your own outfit. That was never going to happen for him. He didn’t have a kind, determined mother who would make it, or a dad who would put in his best effort.

When the day of the show came around, his teacher gave him a poem to read. He can’t remember it now, he could barely remember it then, but because it was last minute and everyone else had their roles for days, he had to read his poem by himself. When his time came, he remembered Mrs Kelly giving him a little shove to make his way onto the stage. The spotlights stung his eyes, and all he could hear was the scuffle of his cheap school schools as his jelly legs made their way to the centre where the microphone stood.  Everything seemed empty and deserted, just this vast surface he was walking across.

When he reached the centre, he turned and squinted through the bright light aimed at him. Hundreds of pairs of eyes looked at him in the darkness, like a pack of wolves stalking their prey. They were waiting for him to fail, to mess up, to not be even half as good as they knew their child would be. He didn’t have any familiar eyes to look at for support. He was alone. Quickly, he read through the poem. His voice was practically a whisper and he was nowhere near the microphone. Looking down the entire time at the hole in the top of his shoe, he could still feel the eyes stalking him.

As soon as he had said the last word, he practically ran off the stage, almost tripping as he went causing a small laugh from some of the audience.  He didn’t want to make a scene, he just continued walking until he got the other side of the curtain. He wanted to crawl under a table and pull a sheet over himself, but that would only draw attention and that wasn’t who he was. Callum sat down on a chair as Mrs Kelly came over and said he had done well, but she couldn’t hear the rhyme clearly. Callum just nodded, continuing to sit on his chair for the rest of the performance, quickly wiping away any stray tears that dared to fall.

Standing here now behind the bar reminded him of that day, all the eyes glaring at him just waiting for him to fail. The thought of running away and hiding hit him hard; he could just leave, get out the pub and not have to face them. His attention was drawn to a face sitting at the bar though, with kind supportive eyes that willed him to carry on. He wasn’t alone.

He rang the bell again, trying to stop those voices that had raised again while they were waiting for him to speak. Callum was rather harsh this time and the clapper came out in his hand. He passed it to Mick apologetically, as he tried to ignore the titters that grew at his error. “Um, I’m sorry for interrupting your evening,” he started, and the shake in his voice was evident to his ears. “I just needed to say something.”

“I know some of you were here at Christmas and know what I done, or think you know,” he continued, letting his eyes move to Ben every few seconds to fuel his confidence. He knew if this were the other way around then Ben would be more than happy to march through the bar, performing his soliloquy and entertaining the masses as he did it. He tried to gain some of that faith from his boyfriend’s eyes. He was sitting there quiet, letting Callum have his moment, but almost like a stalking lion, ready to pounce if anyone interfered. “And I’m sure if you weren’t here then you heard about it.”

“Heard about you being winkle picked by the local scum?” Bianca shrieked out. “Yeah I think that news might have travelled!”

“Pipe down, or you’ll be out,” Mick warned, as Callum saw Whitney quiet her mother down. It seemed she was listening intently to what he had to say.

“I know I’ve caused pain. I hurt Whitney. I never meant to or wanted to. She is the most amazing woman and deserves to be happy and I know she’ll find that.” he said, confidence raising slightly. “It just won’t be with me. It can’t be. I’m gay.”

There were a few whispers at his statement and he felt Mick clap him on the arm. In the distance, the monsters in his belly shrieked and cowered as they were being slayed. A few of them were still left, hiding away, but the clawing had stopped. Callum looked towards Ben, who was leaning his head against his palm and smiling at him.

“Also, no one talked me into anything,” he continued. “I weren’t led into anything and I didn’t have to be convinced. I went after Ben. I wanted him. I do want him. I love him.”

Callum knew he wasn’t being descriptive with his words or able to convey his full feelings. That wasn’t him, but he tried to get out everything he wanted to say, all those things swimming around his head for so long. He rounded his way around the bar and stopped in front of Ben, bending down to kiss him on the lips. He wasn’t one for public displays of affection, but he needed everyone to see how he felt. He needed Ben to realise that he wanted everyone to see.

“Alright, well now that’s done with, anyone else want a turn?” Shirley scowled out, though Callum could see a brightness in her eyes. “Robbie, you got a monologue about your love of brooms you want to recite? Apparently, it’s open mike night this evening.”

Callum could feel the rush of adrenaline fade slightly and his brain was just catching up with what he had actually done. “Sit down, before you fall down, you sentimental idiot,” Ben said with a laugh, pulling Callum onto the stool next to him. He leaned over and gave him another small kiss, pressing their foreheads together for just a second.

Mick set down a whisky in front of him. “Get that down ya son, before you end up as a puddle on the floor,” the landlord remarked smiling. Callum took a quick gulp of his drink.

“I’ve got a confession to make,” he said reluctantly, linking his hand with Ben’s on the bar.

Ben smiled back at him. “Blimey, you’re a priest’s wet dream tonight, aren’t you? Go on then, let it all out. What do you have to confess to me? You ain’t leaving me for someone else already are you?” he joked, but Callum could still sense there was a hint of doubt in his voice.

“I’m never leaving you,” Callum confirmed, playing with the fingers of Ben’s hand. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Right, well go on then. Bare your soul to me, then we can go home and bare other things,” Ben said with a smirk.

Callum gave him a quick kick at the ankle at his comment. “I’m trying to be serious,” he said, taking a breath. “I lost the keyring.”

“The keyring?” Ben asked curiously, hooking his foot around the ankle that Callum had kicked his way. “Is that a euphemism? Cause I’m more than willing to give a go to anything you want.”

“Ben!” Callum scolded. “I’m not joking. The keyring you gave me for Christmas. I lost it. I’m so sorry.”

His boyfriend broke into a big grin. “You are ridiculous,” Ben remarked as he leaned forward and kissed Callum, lingering even longer than before. “It’s fine. I’ll get you a new one. It weren’t like it was expensive after someone forced me into keeping to a budget! I got the keyring off the market and made Jay print out the photos.”

“It’s not the same one though,” Callum replied, trying to make Ben understand. That moment had meant so much to him, the gift was so thoughtful as much Ben tried to downplay it.

“Well you should learn to me more careful then, shouldn’t you?” Ben teased, cupping Callum’s cheek. “A right disaster area with the presents I give you, aren’t you? Now it’s the keyring, and before that it was the van I gave you at a decent price. You lost that within the day as well.”

“It was stolen!” Callum said, smiling despite himself and pushing Ben’s arm away with little intent. “I didn’t lose it; the police took it away.”

“Well that’s your excuse,” Ben said grinning and rolling his eyes for dramatic effect. “I’m now beginning to think it was a all a ruse to get me into bed. What was that you said up there about always wanting me? Clearly I’ve been led astray by a master manipulator.”

“I can’t believe you said I was hard work.” Callum said, smiling, his ankle still rubbing against Ben’s. “You are a nightmare.”

Ben clicked his tongue. “Dressed as a daydream, baby.”

Callum shook his head and then covered his eyes with his hand. “You’re quoting Taylor Swift lyrics? Now that’s just sad.”

“Hmm, not quite as sad as knowing they’re Taylor Swift lyrics,” Ben retorted, before letting his smile fall a little and resting his hand on Callum’s thigh. “Hey, proud of you. My boy did good.”

“It feels strange, ya know,” Callum responded, realising that he was sitting in the middle of a packed pub, holding hands with his boyfriend, their legs intertwined and Ben’s fingers stroking up and down his thigh. “To not be hiding. I’ve been doing it for so long.”

“Well, you could never hide from me,” Ben replied, his eyes softening at Callum. “I’ll always find you. You’re the one I’ll always find.”

Callum smiled back at him. Instead of the dread of everyone seeing out in the open, he had a new feeling. He hoped everyone was watching so they could see Ben how he saw him. This passionate soul, who reflected his light onto Callum rather than keep it for himself. He didn’t know what would happen next, but for once in his life he looked forward to finding out.

Chapter Text

“It’s not going to happen. We’re not getting a dog.”

Callum’s shoulders slumped at the words, as he placed the box down, the crockery inside shaking slightly. He didn’t care though; it was moving day and after all he and Ben had been through, a thousand plates could be shattered and it would have no effect on his mood.

Just a few months ago, he’d stood in the middle of a packed pub and admitted his feelings for Ben to the whole world. Looking back, he can’t believe he did it. The whole impulse and his feelings for Ben had just taken over and given him the confidence and power that he never believed was truly in him. Everyone knew the truth; the real truth and nothing awful had happened. The sky hadn’t fallen and the stars had remained intact.

There was still an awkwardness to being out in the open; to hold Ben’s hand when he wanted, wrap his arms around him in the middle of the market or kiss him on the doorstep. When you’ve been hiding for so long and it was second nature, it was hard to do anything else. It was getting better though, and it felt so real and right that he didn’t second guess himself as much as he used to.

After spending the last few months huddled up in the Beale’s house, the point had finally come when there were too many people living there. They found in difficult to get a minute to themselves, unless they were hauled up in Ben’s room. Even then, there was shouting up the stairs, the banging of the door all the time and the thought in the back of both their minds that the walls were thin. If they actually wanted to leave the confines of the bedroom, they were forced to share a sofa with Ian commenting on the latest episode of some cooking show, or trying to get some time alone in the kitchen until Kathy came in for a chat, or Lola came in talking away on the phone while trying to make some dinner.

It was bound to happen sometime. There were just so many people in that house and too many doors with broken locks. It should have occurred to Callum at the time, but he was so distracted by the fact that Ben had slipped into the bathroom as he was taking a shower, that the realisation that the door must not be locking properly didn’t hit until it was too late.

Callum had just got home from work and sludged up the stairs. They’d had two funerals that day, a client who was so hysterical that they passed out in the office, and Big Nigel fell into a set of expensive custom-made wreaths. Ben wasn’t home yet, so he just went into the bathroom, locked the door and practically crawled into the shower.

Taking a deep breath, he let the water fall over his skin, letting the blistering drops sooth his body. Sometimes when the day was so busy, his head started to buzz with thoughts and the tension that he thought was gone for good made an unwelcome return. He had spent so long fighting against his body; he’d hoped he defeated the monsters for good. They were still there though, and he realised now they probably always would be. They wouldn’t ever go away, but he could make them sleep. He could make sure he was the one in control, that he made demands of them and kept them chained and gagged rather than the other way around.

“Nice arse, but you’re going to have to put on a show if you want a tip,” “a voice said from behind him, over the sound of the shower.

Callim turned his head quickly, though he knew the tone without having to look. Ben was leaning against the sink with his arms folded, grinning from ear to ear. Callum turned the shower off with a half smirk, before grabbing a towel and lightly rubbing it over his hair.

There wasn’t really any of the shyness or lack of confidence being naked in front of Ben, that there had been at the start. Even then, it was only flashes that came with the newness of the relationship and the self doubt he carried with him. Worried that his body wouldn’t match up with Ben’s previous conquests, or that his battle scars marred his skin. Now though, he enjoyed Ben’s eyes resting on him, looking him up and down. It still made him blush outwardly, but the feeling he got when he knew that he was the focus of his boyfriend’s eyes was indescribable.

Though the towel was covering his eyes, he could sense Ben approaching. He could hear breathing, the heaviness of it being dragged through a throat, but he wasn’t sure which one of them it belonged to. Probably both, as he felt a hand grasp his hip. Callum let his towel fall to the floor and quickly put his hand behind Ben’s back, forcing him forward and stumbling into him closer.

Ben didn’t ever have to take much encouragement and he leaned up to grasp the back of Callum’s neck and bring him down for a kiss. The material of Ben’s clothing felt like a thick barrier between them, scratching and rubbing against his bare skin. It made Callum feel like he was achingly far away.

The sensation of Ben’s hands moving over his body was like little electric shocks going through him; his body reacting sharply and the lingering feel still remaining. Callum fumbled for the button on Ben’s trousers, his hands jittery from the stimulation. It surprised him still how he could get this feeling and how he lived so long in his life without it.

Before he could get his boyfriend’s trousers fully open though, there was a sudden burst of cold air into the room, before a muffled cry of an apology was let out. Callum just detached himself from Ben in time to see Ian’s retreating form as the door was quickly shut.

“Do none of the doors in this bloody house work?” Ben shouted, as he went towards the offending article and opened it before banging it back shut with force. He looked back towards Callum with conviction on his face. “We’re moving.”

With that, Ben opened the door again, and this time left the bathroom. Callum picked up his towel and perched on the side of the tub. He’d let Ben calm down for a minute or two, and then go into the bedroom and hopefully carry on where they left off. They could always push the chest of drawers against the door. Callum thought how nice it would be if they could move and could actually be intimate without waiting for five people to leave the house, or putting on music ridiculously loudly or having to stop just as they were getting going to barricade themselves into a room.

As it turned out, Ben was true to his word. He’d returned the other evening telling Callum to pack his things as he’d found them a flat. After what had happened with Adam and Honey, their old flat was free and Jack was eager to fill it with occupants. There was excitement at the announcement, and relief that he wouldn’t be in such close quarters with so many people, but there were also nerves. They hadn’t spoken about it, getting their own place together. He knew it was silly because they’d essentially been living with each other for a while now, but it wasn’t a permanent situation.

Callum knew he couldn’t keep quiet. In order for his relationship to work, he knew he had to keep talking to Ben, not just bottle things up until they exploded out. That night in bed, when his boyfriend had just dozed off to sleep, he couldn’t wait any longer. Callum couldn’t let the monsters rear up again. He couldn’t go back to that.

“Ben,” he whispered, propping himself up on his elbow and gently rubbing a finger down his boyfriend’s arm gently. “Ben, you awake?”

“When I open my eyes you better be naked,” he mumbled back gruffly. Ben sleepily wrenched one eye open before groaning and turning on his side with his back towards Callum. “Why you waking me up in the early hours of the morning?”

Callum checked the time on his watch. “It ain’t even ten at night, yet!” he replied, pulling Ben over by his arm so he was facing him. “We’ve only been in bed for twenty minutes.”

“Well I’m not leaving this bed until morning. Are you waking me for sex? Because that I’m onboard for that. Hop on.” Ben said, bringing his hand up to cup Callum’s cheek.

Reaching up, Callum took Ben’s fingers off his face and held them in his own. “We need to talk,” he whispered quietly, looking down at their interlocked hands.

“Are you leaving me?” Ben asked, closing his eyes back again. “It’s not for that new fella on the market from that continental bakery stall is it? I’ve seen him give you the eye over his buns,” Ben said, a grin appearing on his face.

“Ben!” Callum hissed out loudly, before flinching at the echo it made in their room. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to talk, but it was hard enough to get his feelings across at the best of times. “Please.”

Ben scrabbled up a little and propped himself up on his elbow so he was facing Callum in the same stance, his eyelids still heavy. “I’m at your service, sir,” he replied, before taking in Callum’s expression. “Alright! Alright! I’m sorry. I’m listening.”

“Well, we never really talked about it, did we? Moving in together,” Callum said, after taking a deep breath. “It’s just a huge step, ain’t it?”

“I suppose spending night after night in the same bed together and having the same home can be a big step,” Ben said slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But, I mean isn’t that what we’re doing now? Or do you sneak out when I’m asleep and go cohabit with Baker Boy?”

Callum shook his head. He always found it difficult to put his point across, especially with something like this where there was just a feeling niggling at him rather than anything substantial he could point out. “I just…I don’t know. I’m being stupid.”

Laying back down, he regretted even starting the conversation. There wasn’t a way to articulate how he was feeling without it sounding strange or petty. Callum felt a hand softly brush his hair away from his forehead. “I feel the same way,” Ben whispered in a soft voice. “This place ain’t ours, it’s Ian’s. We could both leave at any point. Like a little ‘press in case of emergency’ button. When we move to the flat, its final. We’re stuck with each other.”

“I wanna to be stuck with you,” Callum said, smiling up at Ben. He was always amazed how Ben got what he was feeling, even if he didn’t know himself. “I really want to move in with you.”

“Well, thank fuck for that cause I ain’t getting my deposit back from Jack if you changed your mind!” Ben replied, leaning down and nuzzling his lips into Callum’s neck. “Three times he counted out those notes. If I was gonna con him I’d use fake readies, not short change him in front of his eyes. I’ve got some standards.”

Callum had felt his worries be put to bed after the conversation. He was still nervous. It was a big step in a relationship, and they hadn’t technically been together long, but it felt right and that’s what he held onto. Now, they had started to move in and were surrounded by boxes. Some of which were his things that Mick had been storing at the Vic.

Luckily the flat had two bedrooms and they’d both bought some new furniture to make sure Lexi could settle in quickly on the days she came to stay. Callum had suggested that perhaps they should get a dog, to help the girl enjoy what would be her new part time home.

“It wouldn’t be a lot of trouble,” Callum replied to Ben’s refusal, as he opened up a box looking for the kettle. “I think Lex would love it.”

“Oh, I’m sure she would,” Ben replied, adjusting the sofa until he got it in a place he was happy with. “I’m sure you’d both have the time of your lives with it, but it won’t be both of you taking care of it, will it? It’ll end up being me!”

Callum frowned at his boyfriend, while trying to unknot the cord to the kettle so he could plug it in. “No, it won’t. I know Lex won’t be here all the time, but I’ll look after it.”

Ben pulled the sofa back six inches the other way again. “Callum, I spend so much time picking your socks off the floor that I’m turning into a sodding house elf. You’ll play with it, cuddle it and possibly walk it now and again, but it’ll be me that ends up training it.”

“Perhaps you can train it to pick up socks,” Callum replied back with a grin.

“Oh shut up!” Ben said without malice, pushing the couch back again. “Does this look straight to you?

Callum squinted his eyes as if examining the position. “Nahh, but the sofa looks level,” he answered, smirking back.

Ben pointed at him accusingly. “Everyone said I would be a bad influence on you and they were bloody right.”

“I think a dog would be a calming influence,” Callum mentioned casually. “Did you ever have one growing up?”

“At what point?” Ben replied, finally sitting down on the sofa. “When my mum faked her own death, when I came to live with my emotionally sterile dad or when I was inside? There weren’t a lot of magic moment times with my family sitting around a log fire with a dog trotting along with our slippers.”

“I always wanted a pet,” Callum explained as he came to sit down on the couch next to Ben. “I had a cat once. I mean, it weren’t mine, it was just some stray I used to feed, but then dad found out. I don’t know what he did to it, but it never came back.”

Ben gave a sigh and reached out to run his hand down Callum’s face. “Alright,” he said quietly. “But we get a proper one like a Labrador or something. I don’t want one of those tiny, yappy things that never shuts up. We’ll have enough of that with Ruby living in the flat upstairs.”

Callum burst into a huge grin and kissed the palm of the hand that was caressing his face.

“Knock, knock,” a voice called out, as knuckles rapped on the door that they’d left ajar when bringing in their belongings.

Callum turned around to see his brother tentatively step into the flat. Next to him, he felt Ben tense slightly, the smile dropping from his face. Since Callum had confronted Stuart a few months ago, he’d only seen him a couple of times. It seemed that he’d heeded Callum’s warning and was actually trying to accept the situation. Stuart never mentioned Ben, but he also never tried to convince his brother he was making a mistake either.

“Y’alright, Stu?” Callum called out, as his brother stepped further into the flat, one foot at a time as if the floor was going to collapse beneath him.

“I won’t stay long, I just came to bring you a little house warming present,” he replied, coming over and standing by the sofa. He held out a ceramic jug in the shape of a cow, a bright blue bow stuck to the top.

“Oh, thanks,” Callum replied, taking the gift, examining it and then passing it to Ben who held it like it was a ticking bomb. “It’s lovely.”

“It’s a gravy boat,” Stuart replied, smiling and nodding. “Who don’t love gravy, eh?”

“I don’t think we have one of those, do we Ben?” Callum noted, giving his boyfriend a quick elbow of encouragement.

“It’s not something we’d miss,” Ben snarked, before checking himself at the force of Callum’s next elbow to the ribs. “No, we don’t have one.”

Stuart nodded happily, content in the response for his gift. “Well I better get going. I promised Dot I’d go to the shops for her.”

He gave a final small wave to Callum and then made his way towards the door. “Stuart,” Ben called out, still facing towards the wall. “Perhaps you could come over for dinner one night, once we’re settled.”

Callum’s eyes darted between the two men, as there was a moment of silence after his boyfriend’s offer. “Yeah, I’d like that. Just let me know when,” his brother replied, before giving a final nod and going out the door.

“Well, if this ‘accidentally’ breaks before then, we’ll just blame it on the dog,” Ben said, glaring at the gravy boat. After a few seconds, he realised Callum hadn’t responded, and turned to face him questioningly. “What?”

Callum quickly leant forward, meeting Ben’s lips with his own. “You didn’t have to do that,” he whispered, resting his head on Ben’s shoulder.

“You know me, I love an awkward family dinner, don’t I?” he replied, leaning his head against Callum’s. “Anyway, these boxes won’t unpack themselves. You make a start, and I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

Ben patted Callum on the thigh and then pulled himself off the sofa, handing the gravy boat to his boyfriend. “Where you going?” Callum asked. “You ain’t leaving me with all the unpacking!”

“I’ll be quarter of an hour at most, I’ve just got to pop over the car lot,” Ben replied, picking up his keys from the side. “I’ll have to end up moving about anything you unpack anyway. You’ve already put the lamp in the wrong place. Don’t give me that look, like I’m being weird!”

“You’re cute when you’re being bossy and obsessive,” Callum replied, leaning over and giving Ben another kiss. “Don’t be too long. I’ll miss you.”

When Ben left, he surveyed the scene around him. They still had a lot to unpack and he just wanted to get it done so they could start enjoying their new home. He knew Ben would fuss and change things when he got back, but he could get most of it done. Callum wanted to make him happy and he couldn’t believe they had somewhere that was theirs.

About ten minutes later, he had unpacked all the kitchen belongings into where he thought they should go. There were still so many more boxes to get through. Behind him, he heard the door open. “That was quick,” he called out. “You worried you was going to come home and find me in bed with the guy from the bakery stall?”

“It’s a bit late for me to worry about that, don’t you think?”

Callum spun around quickly at the sound of the voice. “Whit?”

“The door was unlocked, I hope you don’t mind,” she said, lingering in the doorway. “I won’t stay long.”

“No, course, come in,” Callum said, standing up and ushering her inside. “D’ya want to sit down? Can I get you tea?”

Whitney shook her head and held up her hand to decline the offer. “No,” she replied, with a soft smile. “I just came to give you something.”

Reaching into her pocket, she took out a small object and handed it to Callum. It felt cool in his hand and turning it over he quickly realised it was the keyring that Ben had given him for Christmas.

“Where’d you find this?” he asked in confusion. It was the same one he lost weeks and weeks ago.

Whitney gave a guilty smile. “It was Boxing Day. I was emptying out the laundry basket in our room and it was just sitting at the bottom. It probably fell out of a pair of your trousers or something.”

“Boxing Day?” he questioned. “But that was months ago.”

Hardening her face slightly, Whitney dropped her smile. “What did you expect? Me to happily trot round to my husband to bring him a keyring with his boyfriend’s name on it? I’d just found out you’d cheated on me, Callum. You’re lucky I didn’t hurl it through the nearest window.”

“So why didn’t you?” he asked. “Why give it back now?”

Whitney’s face softened again, and she leaned closer to put her hand over his. “I wanted to hate you so much, Callum,” she replied. “But I couldn’t. I can’t say we’ll exactly be the best of friends just yet, but I understand what happened. I don’t quite forgive it. But I understand. I guess I realised that keyring must mean something to you and as time went on I didn’t feel good about keeping it. There’s no point trying to change things that have already happened.”

“I never wanted to hurt you, Whit,” Callum explained. “That was never something I wanted to happen. I should have told you straight away. I know that. I made a mistake, not with being with Ben, but for keeping you in the dark.”

“It don’t take away the pain,” Whitney started, and Callum felt his stomach drop. “But we both deserve to be happy, and I don’t think that was together. I’ll see you around.”

When she retreated out the door, he closed it behind her. Just when he thought he had a grip on his emotions, something else would send him reeling back. He would never be over the guilt of hurting Whitney and that would be something that hung over him. Looking down at his hand, he turned the keyring over with a smile. Running over the names with his thumb, it lifted his mood already. Whitney was right; they couldn’t change what had happened, but he could make sure that everything he put them all through would be worth it.

“I’m back! You done anything to get us evicted yet?” Ben called twenty minutes later, as he came through the front door.

Callum sat up from where he was laying on the sofa. “You’ve been gone ages. Get stuck with a customer?”

Ben started to look around the flat. “Something like that. You rushed off your feet were you, after emptying two of the thirty boxes that still need unpacking?” he replied, looking down at Callum with a grin.

“Whitney came round when you were out,” he admitted, not wanting to hide anything. “We cleared the air a little.”

“Did she?” Ben replied, his tone unreadable “We’re really getting the crème de la crème of guests today, aren’t we?”

“We needed to talk, Ben,” Callum replied honestly. “I can’t just walk around every day pretending that she’s not there. Oh, and she found my keyring.”

He waved it happily in Ben’s face. “Wow, look at that, you’ve managed to keep it long enough to put a key on it this time!” he mockingly exclaimed. “Just the one though.”

“I ain’t really got a lot of keys,” Callum said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Jay’s not letting any of us have the ones to the parlour since Big Nigel left his in one of the coffins. He had a keyring that used to play the theme tunes of different tv shows, and it kept playing the song from The Fresh Prince of Bel Air over and over during the service. So, yeah, just the one key until Jay’s calmed down a bit.”

“Hmm, let’s make it two shall we?” Ben replied cryptically, as he pulled Callum up off the couch and continued to drag him towards the door.

“Where we going?” Callum asked, a small smile on his face, as Ben continued to lead him outside.

“Ta da!” Ben exclaimed pointing to the street. Callum looked around, he wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to be seeing. Ben could see his frustration and dragged him up the steps a little. “Look right in front of you Callum. What do you see?”

“The Square,” he replied shrugging. “The road, I think Robbie’s over there trying to chase a bird away, there’s the wall to the flat, there’s a car parked outside, there’s-oh.”

Callum looked towards Ben who was swinging on his heels, looking up at him and holding out a key. “See, I told you I’d pay you back one day,” he replied happily, motioning towards the car. “Do ya like it?

Going to look around it, Callum was gobsmacked. It was a beautiful car. It wasn’t exactly top of the range or brand new, but it still looked impressive. Peeking into the window, he saw a bundle of maps tied up with a ribbon sitting on the front seat. “What? No SatNat?” he asked with a smile.

“You’re right hard to please, you!” Ben huffed, but with a twinkle in his eye. “I thought maybe we could go for a few drives and get lost together. Is it alright?”

Callum realised he was almost in shock. No one had ever bought him anything like this before. “It’s not nicked is it?” he replied with a grin. “I’m not going to get halfway down the road and hear sirens, am I?

Ben gave him a playful shove before bringing him closer and putting his arms around his waist. “This is fully legit, in your name, all above board.” Ben replied placatingly. “We can use it when we take Lexi down to Hastings in the summer.”

It was something that when Ben mentioned it a few days back, Callum was a little surprised at, but nodded happily. All these little moments of domesticity were arriving quickly, and they had with Whitney as well. The feeling was so different though. Before, every milestone felt like another chain being added to his body, weighing him down and constricting his chest until he almost couldn’t breathe. This time though, every experience was thrilling and freeing.

Callum took Ben’s hand and led him back inside. “I didn’t finish the packing because I got distracted,” he said, leading Ben through the flat and into the main bedroom.

“Oh yeah,” Ben replied salaciously. “You get started without me, did you? Well we should probably christen the flat soon. The boxes can wait.”

“Not like that,” Callum tutted, as he pulled Ben onto the floor by the wall. “I just wanted to make sure we left our mark here in a different way.”

“Oh we’ll make our mark, believe me,” Ben said leaning over to kiss Callum on the neck. “It’s just now when someone’s hammering on the door about the noise, we don’t have to let them in! We have actual locking doors!”

“Hold on one second!” Callum said lifting himself up off the floor. He approached the record player than Ben had bought for their birthdays and started it up, going to sit back down once the music filled the room. “We can always drown them out with music.”

“Yeah, 1940’s swing music is known for it’s booming base,” Ben replied with a roll of his eyes. “Why we sitting on the floor? Let’s go to bed. Unless you want to try out the floor first? I’m easy.”

Callum smiled as Ben continued to kiss his neck. “Well I’ve known that for a long time,” he remarked, squirming at the pinch to the ribs Ben gave him. He gently prized his boyfriend away from his collarbone.  “In a minute. I need to show you something first.”

Shuffling closer to the wall, he motioned for Ben to look at where he was pointing. After Whitney had left, he couldn’t help himself. He managed to find one of the knives in a box and came to carve their names into the bedroom wall. Looking at Ben, he seemed a little taken aback, but the small smile on his face told Callum he’s done the right thing.

“We’re definitely not going to get our deposit back now,” Ben exclaimed, running his fingers over the lettering. “We could always blame the dog.”

“We can’t blame everything on the dog!” Callum remarked, as he joined hands with Ben as they both traced their fingers over the carving. “Do you like it?”

“Of course. You haven’t put the date though,” Ben replied in just a hint of a whisper. Callum tapped one of the scratches on the wall. “One? What does ‘one’ mean?”

“You don’t remember? It’s one year today since we met!” Callum replied, looking inquisitively at Ben.

“Oh I remember,” Ben replied, leaning over to rest his head on Callum’s shoulder. “I wasn’t sure if you would though. That’s what we’re going for as our anniversary is it? The day we met?”

“It seems the most important,” Callum replied, bringing his hand up to thread it softly though Ben’s hair. “Nothing else would've have happened otherwise.”

“One year, eh?” Ben remarked, as they both sat curled up staring at the wall, the music ringing out behind them in the background. Callum had never felt happiness like this. The calmness, the serenity and peace that came with it. He didn’t feel like a different person, but like he’d shed a skin that was weighing him down and he could finally feel the freshness of the world. He kissed his boyfriend on the top of his head, still not quite believing he had someone to share this with. “I wonder what’ll happen in our second?”

THE END