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[caltradd-blog]

       " do you have to pay for it? "

and he shifts to pull his phone out of his pocket.

       " what's their number? "

he's actually pretty hungry now that he thinks about it.

Well, yeah, I think it’s pretty good…

I bring some home, sometimes.

[caltradd-blog]

" cal. "

he takes it upon himself to introduce himself before you finish which is probably good because rest of your story has him a little short on words. a small chuckle escapes despite his attempt to stay polite.

" naked ? — shame i missed it. "

and he reaches out a hand, wiggling his fingers. he actually really would like some doritos.

" uh, yeah. "

he notices you do up your shirt, and he’s kind of jealous. he’d already seen what you were trying to hide; it makes him wish he could do the same so easily with his.

" i’m chris. the christmas tree kind of like,   gave birth to me. i was naked and   everything. “

[caltradd-blog]

He can't argue with the fact that it is Harry's house but he's more than a little - shocked ( and concerned ) that the other thinks it's the middle of the day.

"Harry... It's one in the morning."

"If I want to listen to music I will. This is my house. Besides there’s still plenty of time for you to get sleep. It’s the middle of the day."

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He's not sure if he should bother with picking out the baby-faced comment and being - flattered or something. The insult is much too loud for him to even begin to focus anymore on it. It's written all over his face how not pleased he is with the entire comment.

"I don't have a stick up my ass. I have to work at eight in the morning and would like some sleep."

He's still, somehow, managing to be polite.

"Well, you know what they say. ‘If it’s too loud, you’re too old…or you’ve got a stick up your ass. And seeing as how baby faced you are…"

Harry bit his lip. It was so easy for him to hide his pain behind snark, especially to Cal. No wonder he didn’t have any friends.

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He pulls away from the door rather quickly as it's opened, surprise resonating through his nerves. Harry always has a way of putting Cal on edge but really, they didn't have a good track record. His eyes flicker to the floor as the other speaks. 'Oh, it's you...'

"Yeah..."

He fiddles with the back of his hair.

"It's a little loud."

Harry hears a muffled voice from the other side of the door. By now he would have expected who ever was there to just give up and leave. Harry carefully pushed himself up and rolled out of his bed. He opened the door a crack half expecting to see Andrew.

"Oh, it’s you…I couldn’t hear you through the music."

[caltradd-blog]

       " oh. i see. "

still seems a little strange but who is he to keep arguing.

       " is their pizza any good? "

[ voice just a flat as before, he elaborates, ]

They gave it to me. It’s not, like, technically mine, I just use it when I’m delivering.

[ …he’s not all too appreciative of the suspicion, cal. ]

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He just barely hears the words through the door over the music and he can't help but sigh. What was he supposed to do? Yell the answer in the hallway and wake up anyone else that might have been lucky enough to have fallen asleep? He can't just open the door though, he knows better than that. 

Another sigh and he leans as close to the door as possible, hand cupped over his mouth to attempt to block any sound bleed.

"The music. It's a bit loud ! "

Harry is jolted up when he hears a pounding that isn’t the bass of his speakers. Someone is knocking at his door. No one has done that in a while. Harry would be angry if he wasn’t so surprised. He laid back down on his bed and yelled out a mumbled response that was barely audible through the Kid Cudi.

"What do you want?"

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     " you have a bicycle? "

it's not totally unlikely of course but he thought he would have known.

               " how charmingly                  old-fashioned. "

[ what do you mean, how?               cue the deadpan. ]

On a bicycle.

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and by someone getting hurt, lucien means cal will get hurt... right? he's just going to go with that because there's no way it's the alternative.

but why would he say 'one of us' as if it wasn't already obvious who it was? god dammit. yeah. things were never simple with them but cal didn't mind it. the over-thinking was annoying but that was entirely his fault.

he's not really sure he knows what he wants to say but he's standing up and the words come out anyway.

    " if you want it to be over, then end it.       if not, then stop worrying about me. why       do you even worry about me at all? "

stubborn as always, cal says it’s fine ― but lucien doesn’t feel fine at all. so much had happened the moment their lips had met, when lucien had given into blind, lustful temptation ― how could it all just be dropped? 

but cal’s says it’s done, that they can move on from it all… or not.  lucien’s breath catches in his throat and his teeth bite down on his lower lip.

❝ things will just get messy. one of us will end getting hurt… again. ❞

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yeah. obviously you haven't been here long if you're walking into other people's rooms thinking it's yours. but he feels really bad that he made you feel so awkward about it, that wasn't his intention. or maybe you're just the awkward, rambling type. either way —

     " no, no. it's fine. don't worry about it."

but he'll do up the bottom half of his shirt at least. the scar it usually covers doesn't exactly go over well.

                            " you're new — ? "

he thinks about repeating himself but you obviously don’t want any doritos. he’ll clear his throat and bounce on the ball of his heels, lowering his arm as well as his gaze.

" uh      i thought this was my room, but i   thought it’d be kind of rude just to say   sorry and leave without like      listen,   i’m not the most elegant person, so… “

why’s he still standing there? the world may never know.

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he hears the crinkling through his door but he figures it's just andrew or someone else with snacks and it isn't until the crash against his door that he really pays attention. a jolt, and he sits up, book folded in his lap, open shirt hanging off a shoulder, brows furrowed in the direction of the sound. and then you're walking in and he doesn't know you which is probably the only reason he hasn't told you how rude it is to just barge in.

       " sorry. what —? "

no really, he missed that. a bit too preoccupied by the fact that you're still standing in his doorway.

caltradd

not really sure where he’s going to begin with, and the darkness isn’t helping. normally, he’d use his phone to guide him, but he’d left it on his bed so he’d have his hands free to carry all the food he left his room for in the first place. the packaging of his cargo crinkle and bang against the door he’s only like, 80% sure is his as he opens it up, immediately wondering why the fuck he didn’t knock first upon seeing you instead of his laptop.

oops.

" uh      hey. doritos? “ 

[caltradd-blog]

it's not lucien's fault that cal can't make eye contact it's just that ― he's convinced himself that he shouldn't. In the past little while he's been attempting to forget, to move on, to quit the other man, and he's probably the weakest person he knows when it comes to controlling himself so maybe he should just not even look at the blond. But it seems odd to him that lucien's been hiding and blue eyes flicker up just enough to catch the other through a cloud of smoke.

he's not really sure how to respond to it, still kind of feels wrong to question anything lucien says so he just hums and nods until he's told to listen. that's never good but he does it anyway and by the time the  word complicated floats into the air, he's rolling his eyes and formulating his case.

" it's fine, lucien. i get it. i've always got it. i never expected anything. i thought i told you that ― ? " a shake of his head.

" either way. that's done now, right ? you're done with me. i get it. we can like, move on ? or not, if that's what you want. "

maybe he's gotten a little ahead of himself...

cal stays, much to lucien’s surprise. he was sure that cal would leave,  considering that no eye contact was  being made. but cal made ends up sitting on the step in front of the door and lucien keeps his eyes focused on  him, smoke curling up between them. lucien takes a drag from his cigarette and shrugs his shoulders, flicking ash from the tip of his smoke.

❝ oh, you know ― hiding out. avoiding people. ❞

lucien was a people person ― to a degree. after a certain point, all lu wanted to do was isolate himself from everyone, especially with the people he may have hurt ― including cal. lucien clears his throat, scratchy and sore from the cigarette burning between his fingers.

❝ cal, listen ― i know things between us got… complicated. i didn’t mean for any of that shit to happen. ❞

[caltradd-blog]

well that's great but —

        "how?"

Yeah, I’ve been doing it for a while.

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He knows as soon as he gets into the hall that the music is coming from Harry's room. Which is why he's hesitant to take another step towards his door. Harry never seemed to like him, for whatever reason, conversations just never went well and he can't see this one going any better.

But he's got to sleep. He needs to work. 

Somehow, he manages to will himself to stand in front of the other's door but he hesitates again as he's about to knock. A deep breath and a roll of his eyes. Fuck this. 

He knocks three times, hopefully hard enough that they can be heard over the music.

[ caltradd ]

I’ll be fine once I get it I’ll be good

Harry lied on his bed perfectly still letting the pulsing waves of loud music smooth over him. His hands were shaky. The sores had spread from his neck down his back and chest. They felt like they were on fire. The news in his voice mail made the pain even more excruciating. 

"Mr. Osborn. You haven’t been to work in days. I’m afraid we’ll have to let you go."

Unemployed, under-qualified, and dying. Harry laid in bed waiting for his mind to go blank and music to swallow him whole.

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apparently he's missed a lot more than he originally expected.

" you deliver pizza? "

[ now that earns a hint of a smile, just a small twitch of the corners of his lips that disappears as soon as it happens. ]

No. Still delivering pizzas.

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" alright. "

the word comes out before he can even think otherwise. he's not even sure what to do if he stays. what do they talk about? what is he going to do, sit on the step? actually, that sounds like a good plan and after he throws his bag into a bin, he walks back to the door, perching himself on the small step in front of it.

" so. what have you been up to? "

slipping the cigarette between his fingers, the smoke creates a screen between lucien and cal, who won’t even look at him. lu can’t really blame him ― their last encounter was a little… he takes another drag on his smoke as cal stutters and shakes his head.

❝ it’s fine, cal. you can stay if you want. ❞

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His own smile grows a little brighter with Cricket's. He's always so happy or at least has an air or joyfulness around him that just seems so infectious. Which is great because, frankly, Cal could use someone so bright in his life.

But he winces slightly when he's addressed as mister.

"Please. Just Cal is fine. We're friends."

And he places a hand on the other's shoulder as he begins to lead him to the garage.

Cricket’s immediate reaction is to flash an involuntary bright smile. He’s been waiting to take a ride in one of them modern day cars for so long now and he’s glad that Cal is holding up on his promise to take him for one.

"Boy, would I, mister Cal!"

He doesn’t even stop to grab himself a jacket, he’s too excited to care about being cold. 

"Thank ya!"