Work Text:
There are suds on Calum’s hands and a dish towel in Luke’s when Liz calls.
“Oh, turn that off, turn it off!” Andy says hurriedly, waving at the pair of them. Calum immediately shuts off the faucet and dries his hands on the towel Luke is holding. Luke pauses the music.
“Is that mum?” Luke asks, staring at the phone in Andy’s hand. “Oh my God, answer it, what are you doing?”
“I’m answering! Hush!”
And he finally does, taking two tries to put it on speakerphone.
“Hello?”
“Andy?”
“The one and only,” says Andy. Luke rolls his eyes fondly. “How are you, love? How’s Dessert Week?”
“You’d never believe it,” Liz says, giddy even over the phone. “Andy, I’m Star Baker.”
There’s a beat. Then the kitchen explodes into cheers. Luke whoops. Calum knows enough by now to holler, “ALRIGHT, LIZ!”
Andy is beside himself. “Damn right you are! My bloody wife! Didn’t I always tell you you’d win it? Didn’t I always say?”
“Oh, go on, that was just chat,” Liz says. Her smile couldn’t be more audible.
“Mum, are we on camera right now?” Luke chimes in. “Is this the Star Baker phone call?”
“Of course it is,” says Liz. “And was that Calum I heard?”
“Hi, Liz,” Calum says. “Congrats on Star Baker, it was a cinch. We knew you could do it.”
“Oh, that’s sweet of you to say, love, thank you. I love you all but I’d better go now. I’ll see you in a bit, alright?”
“Love you mum! Cheers!”
“So proud of you, darling,” Andy gushes. “Couldn’t be more proud.”
“It’s all thanks to you,” says Liz. “I’d never have applied if not for you lot.”
“Oh, no, miss Lizzie, we are not taking the credit for this,” Andy says. “We’ll be waiting to greet you with hugs and kisses and congratulatory champagne.”
“Sounds lovely,” says Liz. “I’ve missed you all this weekend. It was a long one.”
“We can’t wait to hear about it,” says Andy. “See you soon, love.”
“See you, love you boys.”
“Love you,” Luke says again, and assorted goodbyes exchanged, Andy finally hangs up the phone. He turns to Luke. Their faces split into twin grins. “Your mum’s Star Baker!”
“Mum’s Star Baker!” Luke all but shouts back. He turns to Calum, who mimics the grin with ease. If there’s one thing they can all agree on, it’s that Liz Hemmings deserves to be the Star Baker, and it only seems right for her to win it during Dessert Week. Calum can attest to the quality of her desserts.
“I think this makes your mum officially more successful than you,” he says. “She’s halfway through Bake Off and your album’s not even out yet.”
“I am honestly okay with that.” Luke can’t seem to stop grinning. It’s making Calum want to not stop grinning either. The dishes are soaped-up but un-rinsed in the sink, and now Calum is too excited to go back to washing them. Somehow, Luke is not having the same problem; he indicates the faucet and says, “We should finish.”
“I’m going to retire for the night, if you boys don’t mind finishing up here,” Andy says. Luke and Calum wave him off in tandem, assuring him they need no further help, and after a kiss to Luke’s temple, a clap on Calum’s shoulder, and a brief goodnight for them both, Andy sidles out.
“I love your family,” Calum sighs. It’s not the first time he’s said it. He loves his own family, too, but they live several hours from here and Calum doesn’t have a car. In the absence of his parents and Mali, Calum has allowed the Hemmingses to adopt him. If he’s honest, it was happening even before he was with Luke. Though admittedly being with Luke makes the whole thing slightly less suspect.
“Clearly,” Luke responds. “I mean, you’re doing the washing up. That’s a sign of true love.”
“Are you kidding? I’m happy to wash your dishes. You guys feed me every weekend, it’s the least I can do.”
“Stop being such a gracious houseguest,” Luke complains. “They’re going to replace me with you. I’m pretty sure my dad wants to hire you to work at Bake Station.”
Calum laughs as he starts to rinse the remaining dishes. “Does he know I already have a job?”
“I don’t think he cares,” Luke says gravely.
“Even though your future career depends on my current one?”
“If my dad had it his way, working at Bake Station would be my future career.”
“Well, I can’t say I don’t appreciate the view on my lunch breaks.” Calum slants a smile Luke’s way. Luke does that same fond eye roll. “But personally I think you show a lot of promise in the music industry. Just one producer’s opinion.”
Luke breathes a laugh. It’s weaker than usual.
“I’m not allowed to officially quit until I find someone to replace me,” he says. “Completely unfair, because Ben just made Jack do it and Jack made me do it, but I have no younger siblings to bully into replacing me.”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone. If I didn’t already have a job and, like…if I knew shit about baked goods, I’d do it.”
“Wow, how generous,” Luke deadpans. “That’s that sorted.”
Calum hip-checks him. “I’m just saying it can’t be too hard. Plenty of people in London looking for jobs.”
“Yeah, but I just feel like shit trying to find some random person to replace me,” Luke says dully. “Which, you know, was the point, I’m sure. My parents want to guilt me about abandoning the family business, so they’re making me face the consequences of my actions, blah blah blah.”
Calum grimaces. “That doesn’t sound like them.”
“Well, it’s what’s happening.”
“Don’t you think it’s possible that they just…need someone to work if you can’t, and think you’re more suited to the job of finding that person?”
“Two birds, one stone.” Luke starts drying dishes, stacking them on the counter to put away later.
A frown creases Calum’s brows. “I guess. Your parents have always been super supportive of the music thing, though. At least as far as I’ve heard.”
“They are.” Luke sets down a platter with less grace than usual. “Doesn’t mean they’re happy I’m leaving Bake Station to pursue it. It’s not that they don’t want me to have my own path and make music and stuff, it’s more…” He sighs, twists the towel around his wrist. Pulls it taut. “I’m leaving them high and dry here, and I think it’s taken them by surprise. They probably thought I’d at least give it a year before moving on. Like Jack and Ben both did.”
“But you’ve been there like six months, that’s not nothing.”
“It’s only half what my brothers did. And I actually studied food science! Even I thought I’d end up taking over the shop eventually. Of the three of us, it made the most sense for me to do it. Instead I’m— you know. Abandoning.”
“That’s a bit harsh,” Calum says gently. “It sounds like you feel worse about leaving than they do.”
Luke shoots him a look, but it quickly melts from irritation to defeat. “Okay, yes, I feel like the worst son in the world for not wanting to work for my parents until I die. Sue me.”
“I’m on your side, love,” Calum says. “I wouldn’t want to work for my parents either, but those feelings aren’t mutually exclusive, you know? You can want to leave and still feel bad about going. And then still go anyway.”
Luke leans against the counter and sighs. The towel has only gotten more twisted. Calum starts to worry about Luke’s circulation. Instead he focuses on the rivulets of water running down the sides of the sudsy pot in his hands, turning it this way and that until the soap has all gone.
“But what if I can’t find anyone? Does that mean I have to keep working there?”
“You’ll find someone,” Calum repeats. “Your mum is out there right now advertising Bake Station to anyone who’ll listen. She’s probably racking up the interviews for you.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Look, I get what you’re feeling,” Calum says, shutting off the water as the last plate runs clean, “but look on the bright side.” He reaches for the towel and Luke releases it without thought. “You’re releasing an album! Of your own music!”
Luke smiles. “I am doing that.”
“And your mum’s Star Baker!” Calum adds, hitting Luke with the towel. “So stop moping and bringing down the vibe, for God’s sake. Would you please smile?”
“I am smiling! Stop it!”
“Smile more! Let me see those teeth!”
“This is my natural smile, stop hitting me!” Luke holds up his arms to defend himself, but already the weight of his dilemma is leaving his shoulders. Behind the crossed-forearms shield, he’s smiling.
“Show me,” Calum demands, ceasing his assault. Luke looks up at him, so fond, a touch exasperated, but undeniably smiling. His teeth aren’t showing, but the creases by his eyes are enough. “Alright, you pass. Thanks for playing.”
“God, you would be the worst therapist ever,” Luke says, laughing. “You would immediately be sued for malpractice.”
“My methods are unconventional, but I get results,” Calum says haughtily. He crosses to hang the towel on the oven door and when he turns back, Luke has followed him. “Thanks for drying.”
“Why are you thanking me? Thank you for washing.”
“I love washing up at your place,” Calum says, and he really means it. At his own flat, cleanup is a five-minute affair. One plate, one fork, one knife, one glass. The dishes of a man living alone. Sometimes Luke is there, but usually not, mostly because usually Calum joins Luke and his family for dinner these days. Between the bleak solitude of his flat and the lively warmth of the Hemmings home, Calum is hard-pressed to choose his own place. Or his own cooking.
Washing up for the Hemmingses is practically a team sport, and he, Luke, Andy, and Liz have perfected a rhythm. There’s always music, always chatter, always something to laugh at — a bad pun from Andy or Liz’s latest baking attempt gone awry — and never, ever a moment of silence.
That’s fine by Calum. Silence, like Ariana Grande, is highly overrated.
“Maybe you can move in once I finally move out,” Luke jokes. “Otherwise they might turn my room into a walk-in freezer or something.”
“That would be awesome.”
“Not for sleeping in it wouldn’t.”
“Obviously not, Sherlock.” Calum makes a face. It fades when he catches up to the conversation. “Wait, you’re moving out?”
Luke shrugs. “Eventually I’d like to. My entire income right now comes from my parents, but if the album sells—”
“When the album sells,” Calum corrects.
“If slash when the album sells,” Luke allows, “I’m hoping I’ll be able to, I dunno, find someplace that isn’t…here. Not that I don’t love it here, but…you know. I’m almost twenty-four.”
“First of all,” Calum says, “you need to be more confident in both yourself and me. And Michael. And the rest of the team who are working their arses off for this album to be a success. And, again, yourself.”
“I’m—!”
“Secondly,” Calum barrels forward, and does not hesitate nearly as long as he should, “you could…move in with me, you know.”
Luke tilts his head with interest. “Really?”
“Well, I know it’s a bit soon, but we practically spend every waking hour together as it is,” Calum says pragmatically. “And it’s not like I love to live alone.”
“You say that, but maybe you just don’t realise how much you enjoy living alone until—”
“No, Luke, trust me.” Calum puts his hand to his heart and the other one to Luke’s. “I really don’t like living alone. It is lonely as hell. I’d kill for some company.”
“You sound so desperate right now, it’s embarrassing,” Luke says solemnly. Calum shoves him without force, but Luke stumbles back anyway. “Hey! I’m joking, I’m joking. I’ll think about it. That would definitely solve a lot of my problems.”
“It is a one-bedroom,” Calum says, “but I have a feeling that won’t be an issue.”
Luke smirks. “I’d have to agree.”
“It’s a twin bed,” Calum adds, just to see the look on Luke’s face, which does not disappoint; wide eyes and an expression of regret, then disbelief, then the classic eye roll.
“Calum, I’ve slept in your bed, I know it’s a queen.”
“I know, I just wanted to see your face.” He pats Luke’s cheek. “Worth it.”
“For the record,” Luke says, “I was willing to share a twin bed with you. Just so you know. These are the sacrifices I’m prepared to make.”
“Now that’s romantic,” Calum says, lacing their fingers together in the air. He presses a kiss to Luke’s lips but lingers a moment, enough time for Luke to curve an arm around Calum’s shoulders. “No pressure. But next time you’re flat-hunting, keep me in mind.”
“You’re giving me the option between moving in with my boyfriend and finding some random flat with some random flatmate?” Luke laughs. “Yeah, that’ll be a real tough decision for sure.”
“You can think about it! I’m not forcing you into anything. Like I said, I know it’s kind of fast.”
“Also like you said, we basically live together as it is,” Luke points out, resting his forehead on Calum’s. “Okay. I accept. I’d be happy to move in with you.”
Calum blanches. “What? Seriously?”
“Now you’re second-guessing?” Luke snorts.
Visions of Luke and Calum fill Calum’s mind — lounging on the sofa, eating midnight cereal or leftover pastries, watching Bake Off or cricket and making out in the ad breaks. Luke playing softly on his acoustic while Calum does a crossword. Impromptu dance parties to Green Day’s Greatest Hits. Luke as Calum’s last goodnight and first good morning.
Things Calum had always taken as stolen moments, snatches of sunshine in his cloud-covered flat, becoming mainstays. A smile stretches over Calum’s face as he says, “Nope, not for a second.”
It seems too good to be true, but sometimes good things are true. This is something Calum learns over and over with Luke.
“Good, because I’m pretty sure telling my parents I’m moving in with you will significantly reduce the blow of telling them I’m moving out,” Luke hums. “They’ve got to be the last parents in all of London to actually encourage their kids to live at home.”
“You’re welcome for putting in two years of work charming your parents before we even met.”
“Yeah, thanks very much. It’s really paid off well, I’ll admit.”
“Anytime,” Calum says. He smiles. “Hey, remember when your mum was Star Baker like ten minutes ago?”
Luke squeals and crushes Calum in a hug. “I can’t even believe it! Except like, I obviously can, because she’s the best baker I know, but…my mum! Star Baker! On Bake Off !”
Calum laughs. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” Luke says happily. Calum shakes his head, but Luke talks over his protests. “No, really. Cal. I love you so much. You make me so happy it’s unreal. Like I genuinely don’t believe it’s real sometimes.”
“Yeah, well,” Calum says, somewhat at a loss. Luke is the wordsmith; Calum’s only the producer. He can add all the instruments and effects he likes, but he can’t start from scratch, not nearly as well as Luke can. “Same to you.”
Well put, Hood.
“You think this was fate?” Luke muses, running his fingers through Calum’s hair. It’s grown out since they met, but Calum isn’t inclined to cut it when Luke clearly enjoys playing with it.
“What, us meeting?”
“Yeah.”
Calum lifts a shoulder. “I don’t know if fate is a real thing, but maybe.”
Luke hums. “Well, I think it was. I mean, think about the circumstances of our meeting. If that Adam guy hadn’t given me a fake number we’d probably never be where we are now.”
“We might,” Calum counters. “I was working up the nerve to ask you out.”
“Yeah, but still.”
“Nah,” Calum says. In retaliation, he tugs at the forever-wayward golden curl falling over Luke’s face. “I’d like to think we’d have gotten here no matter what.”
“So you do think it was fate.”
“I don’t have the answers to all your deep, intense questions,” says Calum, and Luke cracks a self-conscious smile. “Here’s what I know: I love you because I’d be crazy not to. And also because it’s fun. I make that choice every day. I don’t know if fate plays into it or if it exists at all, but I’m real and I exist and I say that I love you, and fate is welcome to fight me about it. That’s my two cents.”
The permanent smile in the corner of Luke’s mouth reaches his eyes. “I accept that.”
“Good,” Calum murmurs, “‘Cause it’s true. I really would fistfight fate for your honour.”
“Now that’s romantic.”
Calum chuckles and kisses Luke, and the surrounding silence, for once, is perfect.