Chapter Text
Cal Jacobs awoke to sunshine permeating his room through the open curtains. With the stupor only a half-love drunk, half-asleep high school graduate could muster, his face instinctively curled into a dopey grin as he heard the distinctive ring of the landline. Though his heart quickly dropped to his stomach as the events of last night came rushing back at once. He willed himself to stay calm. We were both drunk, He assured himself. Maybe he doesn’t even remember. He ignored the part of himself that jumped at the thought of Derek remembering their passionate night, their slow dance to INXS, the soft, yet fervent, kisses they shared. The way they both hesitated before Derek closed the gap between their lips. The way Derek jolted back like he had touched fire. How Cal had cupped Derek’s face in his hands, pulling him in for round two: and the way Derek had loved it, responding to Cal’s every move. Their passion was undeniably cliche. Cal even felt the “sparks” that flew through their heated kisses. He could only hope that Derek felt it too. That Derek wouldn't embody his dad’s generational homophobia. That Derek would be willing to take a chance with Cal: because hell knows Cal would drop everything for Derek. He had already rehearsed his breakup with Marsha in his head: It’s not you, it’s me, and Marsha would never know how true that statement was. Yet Cal had the feeling that Marsha knew, no matter how much she tried to hide it. No matter how much she pretended to smile when Derek was around, enjoying their bromance. Deep down, she had always known their feelings ran deeper than chemistry. It ran deeper than brotherly love: maybe they both needed to accept that and move their separate ways. Marsha, Cal admitted. Was no substitute for who I truly desired.
Cal was jolted back into reality as the phone rang again. He heard his heart thud to the slow, steady beats of the landline. Two rings, he told himself. You don’t look desperate, you can pick up now. Cal shook the thought of wanting to look desperate for Derek, to show him how much he loved him. With hopeless optimism, an uneasy grimace, and shaky hand, Cal moved to pick up the phone. He silently cleared his throat, yielding himself to prepare for the unknown caller. It must be him. He’s going to say it was all a big mistake... He’ll move out West, and I’ll go to Duke: but maybe one day I would be with him, and he would be with me, and we would live in harmony, away from the world’s judgment. Together, we would blind all the hate in the world with our love. We could be as flamboyant as we wanted, and nobody could stop us. We would hold hands in public, kiss at bars, and tell everyone about our relationship, damn the consequences.
Cal willed himself to halt the burst of emotion wrestling to the surface and clear the lump in his throat. It was only a matter of time before he started crying, something his dad couldn’t stand more than anything else about him. He had always been an emotional kid growing up, and when his dad had started picking up on it, Cal didn’t stop crying. He just learned to allow it in the privacy of his room, and in the comfort of Derek’s presence. An eternity passed in the few seconds his hands rummaged to answer the phone. Time was a blank void with one impression through the emptiness of life: Derek.
“H-hey.” Cal started, immediately cursing himself for stuttering. If his dad had heard that, it was a mistake that would have cost him the belt.
“Hey..” Derek’s voice came, steady from the other end of the phone. The sun outside simultaneously shone and dimmed as Cal realized who it was. The earth stopped turning, and time slowed, and soon it was just the two of them, finding their way through the abyss, alone: deep down, Cal had known all along. It was just a matter of time before the next blow came.
“I was gonna call you when I woke up, but then I realized I had all my junk packed up to move,” Derek said, filling the awkward silence.
“O-oh.” Cal clamped his mouth shut, not trusting himself to say another word. “Funny thing is I didn’t do a dime of the work. Movers came by in the dead of night.”
Cal licked his lips, willing himself to say something, anything. “So h-how are you calling me now?”
Derek laughed: a beautiful sound that echoed over the receiver. Cal’s breath caught in his throat until it was over, wanting to hear that melody over and over again.
“Kitchen phone. Can’t be on too long, though. Dad’s waiting on a “business call.” Whatever that means.”
“It’s called 1-500-hotties-for-hire. They charge by the minute.” Cal said easily, sinking into his pillow, and as Derek chuckled: he realized Derek was still Derek.
“Seems she doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” Derek teased.
Cal laughed, but his eyes were brimming over with emotion. If Derek didn’t remember last night, how could things ever be the same again? How could he look his best friend in the eyes, knowing that he dreamt of the day they would be together as they were that night? How could he spend time with Derek without breaking into sobs, knowing that Derek would never reciprocate his feelings for him?
“Seriously though. I need you to get you sorry ass down here, Cal.” Derek ordered, his voice cutting through Cal’s internal musing.
Cal’s world shattered as he knew that Derek knew. He remembered everything: and Cal accepted that he wanted Derek to remember. He knew how Cal watched Derek from afar after wrestling, watching Derek’s content smile on his face, even with his bits hanging loose. He knew how Marsha kept Cal occupied, all the while Cal couldn’t look at anybody but Derek. He knew how Cal felt Derek up during their wrestling matches, teasing him and gaining a hard-on for all his troubles. He knew how Cal looked at him like he was the light of his life, the center of his universe, the Thelma to his Louise. Derek remembered their night together, lip syncing to INXS in a gay bar where they could finally be free. Derek remembered how he had held Cal tenderly as they slowly danced, gripping his smooth lower back as Cal wrapped his arms around Derek’s broad shoulders. He remembered how conflicted he felt, but also how free when he realized he wanted to kiss his best friend. So he held onto Cal while pulling back slightly, enough to see his lips and decide he was going to do this. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact that they were in a gay bar, or the fact that he couldn’t hold it in any longer, or maybe he wasn’t even thinking at all. All he saw was Cal, and all Cal saw was Derek, and as they closed the space between their lips they both held no regrets, only fear for the future and a continuation of the past. So Cal nodded and then facepalmed when he realized Derek couldn’t see him.
He steadied himself, sighed, and started, wanting to confess everything, but all that came out was: “My dad..”
“Fuck him.”
“Derek,”
“Don’t you Derek me. Get down here before I make you.”
Cal felt unshed tears rush to his eyes. They were going to talk about that, and Cal didn’t know if he could. His feelings ran too deep, so deep that he would rather keep his friendship with Derek than explore their love: but there was no escape. And oh, did Cal wish there was another way out. He wished he could break into sobs over the phone, to tell Derek how much he misses him and how much he needs him, and how he loves him and wants to kiss him: but the past kept him grounded. His dad drilled gender roles in him from a young age. The female was always weak and submissive, he told his son. The male is the protector, discipliner, provider. Cal and Derek were both males. Their relationship wasn’t as God intended, Cal’s dad would say, and then tell him to take his shirt off as he got the belt. As if God intended for father’s to beat their children. Cal sniffled, cringing when the sound was loud enough for Derek to hear. Great, his best friend, his whole world, his lover, knew he was crying like a baby. Or a girl. Whatever the endless voice in his head that belonged to his dad saw fit to call him today. Silence rang from the other end.
When it was safe, Derek softly said: “I have ice cream and The Outsiders. Take a shower, put on your bra and panties, and be here in thirty.”
As soon as the landline clicked off, Cal sank into a fit of sobs. He thought about every milkshake run with Derek. Every time Derek had beat him in a wrestling match, and every time Derek had let Cal beat him just so he could tell his dad he won every match. They were so close, he couldn’t lose this friendship: or love. Cal’s heart raced at the thought of it, but he couldn’t deny it any longer. He loved his best friend, and damn the consequences. If his dad called him a faggot, beat him, and spat on him, it wouldn’t have mattered as he had suspected Cal was a “pretty boy” for all of his life. Everything would have been worth it because he would be worthy of the one he loved the most.
So Cal screamed in frustration as he dunked his head into the freezing water in the sink.
He ended up at Derek's door in twenty minutes flat.