Work Text:
Brrring… Brrring… Brrring…
"Come on, Caleb, pick up," you muttered through chattering teeth.
Standing on the creaky, weather-beaten porch outside the Delta Chi House, you hugged yourself against the chill night air, pressing the phone harder against your ear, waiting.
You really needed him to answer.
Earlier, you had sent a brief text message asking if it was okay to come over, but when he didn’t reply, your impatience got the better of you and you decided to brave the 15-minute walk through the dimly lit campus streets, hoping he'd be there.
“…what's up, Pipsqueak?” The familiar timbre of Caleb’s voice resonated in your ear, easing the tightness that had been coiling in your chest.
Oh, thank god.
In the background, the rapid clacking of keys and the frantic clicking of a mouse were audible. “Raf! Did you just get sniped from across the map!” Caleb shouted. “Why are you running out in the open!”
His tone softened as he redirected his focus to you. “Thought you’d be studying all night. I told you we’d be queueing tonight, remember? So, I might not be quick to reply.”
“I-I know,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. "I don’t want to be a bother. You can go back to your game, but could you just let me in? I’m standing outside the house.”
“You’re outside?” Caleb asked, surprised. “I’ll come down, hang on—What? Yeah, yeah, I know, just let me die, I gotta go downstairs for a sec.”
Through the phone, you could hear the creak of the bedroom door hinges followed by the faint thud of footsteps as Caleb made his way down the stairs.
"I’m comin’ to get ya, Pipsqueak," Caleb said reassuringly.
Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of relief. Caleb had a knack for fixing things, for piecing the world back together, and simply being in his presence was enough to make everything feel better.
The front door swung open and a cascade of warm, bright light spilled over the dark porch, chasing away the shadows that clung to its corners.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Caleb began to joke, but when he caught sight of the expression on your face, his smile vanished. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
You opened your mouth to explain, but the words refused to form in your mind. Biting down hard on your lip, you just shook your head in frustration and crashed forward into Caleb’s chest, desperately seeking comfort.
“Hey, it’s alright,” he murmured softly, enclosing you in his strong arms. He rested his chin gently on the crown of your head. “I got you. What’s gotten into you, huh?”
Your fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt, knuckles whitening as you clung to him. “Can I stay the night?” you asked, your voice barely audible.
“Yeah, of course you can,” Caleb assured as he squeezed you a little tighter. “Always, you know that.”
You had spent the night at Caleb’s fraternity on multiple occasions, so it wasn't completely out of the ordinary. However, you had been trying hard to establish your independence recently. As you got older, people teased you that your friendship with Caleb was bordering on codependency, so you had been consciously trying to create some distance between the two of you, despite the fact that you had ultimately decided to apply to the same college he was attending.
And in this moment, you were truly thankful to be here with him.
"Let’s go upstairs, yeah?" Caleb suggested.
You nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand as it enveloped yours, and he gently guided you up the narrow wooden staircase.
When you stepped into his room, you were greeted by the faint glow of a blue light emanating from his PC, the only source illuminating the otherwise dark space. You crawled into Caleb’s bed, pulling the cool, crisp bed sheets around you, and you buried your face into his pillows, inhaling his familiar scent with a deep breath.
Caleb's eyebrows knitted with worry as he watched you. He slipped his headset back over his ears, pressing the microphone closer to his mouth. "Listen up, I'm out for the night. Got things to handle," he announced, his voice firm. A chorus of protests and objections crackled through the speakers. "Oh, quit whining—uh huh, sure—well then, guess you gotta get better at the game. Alright, catch you later. Night."
With a decisive click, Caleb powered down his headphones, a final beep signaling his disconnect. He crossed the room, flicking on the fairy lights you had draped around the bed frame when you helped him move in for the first time. He had protested of course, claiming they were too girly, but ultimately caved when you said they would make you feel more at home when you came to visit.
They blinked to life and bathed the room golden.
“Pipsqueak?” Caleb asked as he crawled into bed behind you, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.
He slid beneath the covers, and you turned towards him instinctively, resting your head on his broad chest. You nuzzled your nose against the warm curve of his neck, breathing in his comforting scent of cedar wood and something uniquely Caleb. His hand drifted over your arm, his fingers tracing a path back and forth in a soothing rhythm.
“If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t make it better,” he stated.
Your mind fixated on the persistent, dull ache between your thighs. Earlier, you'd convinced yourself that everything would be fine once you reached Caleb, but now your anxiety was spiraling out of control.
“I want to tell you,” you said, your voice small, “I just don't know how.”
"Okay," Caleb replied, his voice steady but laced with concern. "Are you hurt?"
Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You remained silent.
"Are you hurt?" Caleb repeated more forcefully.
He attempted to help you both into a sitting position, but you resisted, clinging to him like a lifeline, your face pressed tightly against his chest.
"Please don’t be mad at me," you pleaded as you felt the hot, prickling sensation of tears welling beneath your eyelids.
“I’m not gonna be mad at you,” Caleb insisted, though the urgency in his voice betrayed the calm he was trying to project. "Just tell me where you’re hurt. I won’t get mad at you, I promise."
"I don't know if I'm bleeding," you whispered with raw vulnerability as you squeezed your eyes shut in overwhelming shame. You felt trapped, not knowing what else to do. "Can you… can you check for me?"
"Bleeding? Bleeding where?" Caleb's voice rose. He yanked you up with a firm grip, refusing to let you resist this time. Facing each other, his eyes scanned your frame from head to toe, scrutinizing every inch for any sign of injury, yet finding nothing. "Show me," he demanded.
With shaky hands, you nervously gestured toward your lower abdomen, unable to meet Caleb’s eyes.
“Bleeding from…” Caleb's forehead creased in confusion, trying to piece it together. His hand hovered cautiously beneath your belly button, right above where you pointed. “I don’t understand. Like, your period?”
“No!” you wailed miserably, the word escaping in a wretched sob as tears spilled down your cheeks, your shoulders shuddering with the force of it.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Caleb's eyes widened, panic flashing across his face, as he reached for your shoulders, trying to anchor you. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here. I'm sorry if I'm missing something. Please, you have to explain it to me. Can you do that for me?”
You lifted your trembling hand to your eyes, using the back of your wrist to swipe away the tears that stubbornly trailed down your cheeks.
“E-Eli came o-over,” you stuttered, your voice quivering like a fragile leaf in the wind, “He s-said he only wanted help with the homework, a-and a-and …I b-believed h-him.”
Caleb’s hands tightened around your shoulders with such force that the pressure teetered on the edge of pain.
“Did he touch you.” His posture turned rigid while his eyes filled with a cold, simmering fury.
You nodded feebly, unable to give a verbal confirmation. "It hurts," you choked out. "I don't know if… I'm bleeding? I tried to check in the m-mirror, but I couldn’t see. C-could you… could you…” You faltered, your voice breaking as tears cascaded relentlessly down your cheeks.
Caleb's grip threatened to leave bruises, but in this moment, it was your tether to reality, keeping the scene of what happened in your dorm room from looping endlessly in your mind.
“Do you want me to check?” Caleb's voice was devoid of emotion, cold and mechanical.
"Please," you replied weakly. “I’m sorry,” you added.
"Alright, just let me wash my hands." Caleb moved with a deliberate, militaristic precision, his back rigid with tension as he made his way into the small, tiled bathroom attached to his room. You listened to the sharp twist of the faucet turning on, water cascading into the sink.
This was absolutely humiliating. Caleb had never seen you naked before—Well, aside from when you were really little kids, you supposed, but that didn’t count. The thought of exposing yourself to him made you feel vulnerable and raw, but the panic that clawed at your insides about being hurt won over. What if you were bleeding? Would you need medical attention? Would it be serious enough to call the police?
Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe it was normal to feel this way afterwards.
Caleb was still in the bathroom, the steady hum of running water filling the silence. He seemed to be taking forever. Anxiety gnawed at you and you wondered if he was having second thoughts about this whole situation.
When Caleb finally reemerged, you had already taken the bold step of shedding your jeans and underwear, letting them fall to the floor in a heap. Caleb froze in the doorway, his eyes widening slightly before he swiftly regained his composure, and approached the bed with purpose.
He planted one knee firmly on the mattress beside you, "Lay back for me, okay?" He asked, and you swallowed hard and nodded, the agreement coming reluctantly.
You really didn't want to go through with this, but your OCD had planted an implacable thought in your mind, and it insisted that you had to be absolutely certain you weren't bleeding internally.
Your legs gradually opened, a hesitant surrender, as Caleb moved closer, positioning himself between them. Goosebumps prickled your skin as the chill of Caleb's fingertips brushed against your thighs. The sudden, stark brightness blinded you momentarily as he switched on his phone's flashlight, and a tidal wave of humiliation crashed over you.
"Mmm, it looks a little red, but I don't see anything," Caleb's voice floated up to you.
"Are you sure I'm not bleeding?" you pressed, seeking more reassurance.
"I don’t see any blood," Caleb said, and your stomach churned violently when you felt him part your labia, still examining you, the harsh light from his phone searing your sensitive skin. “Why do you think you’re bleeding? Was he violent? Did he force something in you that was too big?”
"No, it was just his fingers. I don't know how many, though," you said though you started to feel relief at the burden lifting slightly now that Caleb had checked for you and the weight of the situation was no longer yours alone to bear.
“You were probably dry and he scratched you,” Caleb muttered, his voice thick with discomfort, as he rose to his feet, wiping his hands on his jeans.
A shiver tore through you at the thought of someone’s fingers inside you, scraping against the delicate skin.
Drained of every ounce of energy, you attempted to retreat beneath the covers again, but Caleb had already pulled an extra pair of sweatpants from his drawer and handed them to you.
“Oh. Thanks,” you said quietly as you slipped them on, your body trembling as you knelt.
Caleb hovered at the edge of the bed, waiting for you to settle back in before he slipped under the covers with you, pulling you close against him, and you returned to your familiar spot on his chest, feeling his heartbeat thundering beneath your cheek. Each breath he took was a deliberate act, a deep inhale that seemed to fill the room, followed by a loud, forceful exhale.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” you pleaded desperately.
“Not mad at you, pipsqueak,” Caleb said, his voice tight and strained as he fought to steady his ragged breaths.
You wrapped your arms around him tightly, seeking comfort, and he embraced you just as tightly in return. After a moment of heavy silence, he spoke again, “I think you should report this.”
Your breath caught in your throat. Discussing this was the last thing you wanted. In your mind, no blood meant sidestepping the burden of explaining anything to the school or the police. You clung to the hope that it was a non-issue, something that could be pushed into the recesses of your mind as you lay there with Caleb until the hurt between your legs faded into a distant memory.
“I…” you hesitated, “I don’t think there’s anything to report.”
“Anything to report?!” Caleb's voice exploded, the force of it making you flinch. “Look at you right now! ‘Anything to report,’” Caleb scoffed. “Someone fucking raped you!”
You recoiled violently, jerking back in his arms at those words.
“Fuck, sorry,” Caleb pulled you back and placed a kiss at the top of your head. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. I’m sorry. But he—this fucking sicko raped you,” Caleb’s voice dropped to a whisper, but he still couldn’t contain the rage.
"It wasn't—we were just studying," you began to explain, and as you continued the words finally spilled out in a rush. "And then, out of nowhere, he just, leaned in and kissed me, I didn’t even have time to react. It all happened so fast—I still had my clothes on. One moment he was kissing me, and the next, his finger was inside me. I don't even know how it happened. I—I told him to stop, and he did. He just said okay and left. So it wasn’t rape—"
"That's bullshit," Caleb cut in.
"I just—it wasn’t—it barely even lasted 10 seconds," you insisted.
Caleb was practically vibrating with anger. “It doesn’t matter,” he said through clenched teeth. “He didn’t have your consent. You can’t just put something inside someone like that out of nowhere. That's beyond fucked up. Is this that loser from the soccer team? That bastard's dead. By the time I’m finished with him, he’ll wish he had never been born."
"Caleb, no! You absolutely cannot breathe a word about this to anyone, and especially not to Eli,” you told him, eyes wide. “I don’t want to make a big deal out of this.”
“ You’re not making a big deal out of this,” Caleb clarified. “That fucker did when he took advantage of you. He's a representative of a university athletic team. This kind of shit could get him kicked off the team or cost him his scholarship!"
"I don't want to talk about this anymore," you snapped, your voice like ice, as you moved to turn your back on Caleb. If you spoke up, you'd only stir up more trouble and entangle yourself in a mess of complications. You were already fortunate enough that the guy had left your dorm room and that you were okay, mostly. You just wanted to bury this nightmare and move on.
“No, don’t turn away from me,” Caleb implored, his fingers digging into your shoulders.
“Only if you promise me you’ll drop it. And that you’ll stay away from Eli,” your eyes pierced into Caleb's, unyielding.
"Okay, fine," Caleb conceded with a fiery resolve in his eyes. “I promise, alright? Filth like him means nothing to me. All I care about is you—only you—and I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy, no matter what.”
"Okay," you murmured, letting your head sink back onto his chest as he began to rub your arm again. “Thank you.”
The two of you sat in silence while the crisp night air wafted in through Caleb's open window, carrying the distant thumping of bass and the boisterous laughter of students from Greek Row. There was a party in full swing somewhere out there even though it was a weekday and people definitely had classes tomorrow.
"You know," you laughed, but it was more of a hollow attempt at humor. "Out of everything, what upsets me most is that I was saving my first kiss, and he took it from me."
"He didn't take anything from you," Caleb said. "Whatever that bastard did doesn't count, alright? You still have your first kiss.”
“No, Caleb,” you countered sadly. He just didn’t understand. “That was the first time someone else's lips touched mine, the first time someone’s tongue was in my mouth. It will forever be that way.”
You sensed Caleb's chest swell as he prepared to protest, but you pressed on. "But none of it matters now," you said, your voice hollow and defeated. After the emotional storm of the night, a suffocating numbness settled over you, and your childish fantasies about your first kiss seemed so stupid. "I was saving my first kiss for you, and now it’s all ruined. I was being an idiot and made you… now it’s all fucking backwards. It doesn’t matter anyway because it’s not like you’d ever see me that way—”
"Woah, woah, woah," Caleb interjected. "Let's back up for a second. You were saving your first kiss for me?" His voice cracked, betraying his surprise.
"Yeah," you sighed softly. "But it means nothing now because nothing will ever happen between us."
“What! Why?” Caleb gasped. “Why will nothing happen?”
"Because," you spat out in frustration. "I took my pants off in front of you! It’s so embarrassing! This isn't how I wanted to tell you. Everything's ruined. You’ll never want to kiss me now."
“Wrong!” Caleb responded. “That's not true at all. I do very much want to kiss you. And I, was also saving my first kiss for you. But then you forced me to go to senior prom with Mira, even though I didn’t want to! She kissed me in front of everyone, so I couldn’t just stop it."
“Well that’s because it was senior prom, and you weren’t going to go!” you hollered.
“I didn’t want to go!” Caleb protested. “I would've happily stayed home with you."
“But it was senior prom, Caleb,” you argued.
"So what?"
"You know what, I'm not having this argument with you again," you said, rolling your eyes before his words finally hit you. “Wait, you really wanted me to be your first kiss?”
Caleb took your hand, pulling it to his chest where you could feel the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “ Duh . I’ve been trying to catch your eye for as long as I can remember. We lived under the same roof, and it still felt like you looked past me, always more interested in everyone else.”
“What! No… I just,” you stammered. “You don’t think it’s weird? Because we grew up foster siblings?”
"We’re not related. There’s no laws against it." The way he said it, with such certainty, suggested he’d thought about this a great deal.
“No, I know… but what would people we know think, like Zayne?” you asked.
“Oh, who cares about that loser?” Caleb grumbled.
“Um, we both do?” you said. "Because he's literally our closest friend?"
"'Because he's literally our closest friend,'" Caleb parroted back at you in a ridiculously high-pitched voice.
“You know what,” you glared at him. “I'm starting to realize why I never noticed it before. Maybe you don’t actually like me."
"No! What?" Caleb exclaimed in disbelief as he swiftly flipped you over on the bed pinning you beneath him. “Like you? I’ve been waiting all these years for you.”
“You have?” you asked quietly, your heart pounding in your chest.
Caleb let his fingers glide through your hair, smoothing the strands before tucking a loose lock behind your ear. “Yeah.”
“Oh,” you said, blinking up at him expectantly.
You locked eyes, a silent connection sparking between you. Caleb was irresistibly handsome, and his features seemed even more striking up close—the strong line of his jaw, the flecks of pink in his eyes. And now his body was pressed against yours, every heartbeat thunderous in the shared space.
Memories of shared childhood nights flooded back, when you'd both curl up under the same covers, whispering secrets until sleep took over. As teenagers, you both sensed that being caught would bring the disapproval of the adults around you, so you'd wait for the house to quiet down, then tiptoe softly into each other's rooms.
"I..." Caleb squinted, trying to read your face. "Do... you actually want me to kiss you or not...?"
“Yes, Caleb!” you huffed, exasperated. “What part of this situation makes you think I don't want you to?"
“Well, you just had something traumatic happen to you, how should I know?” Caleb countered defensively.
“Yes, and I want you to help me forget about it,” you urged, your voice softening. "I'd rather remember us, the way we are together, than anything else that happened today."
“Okay, I can do that, yeah,” Caleb said, but he shifted awkwardly, still a little uncertain, his eyes flicking between the wall behind you and your face.
"What?" you asked, noticing his change in mood. "What's wrong?"
“Nothing’s wrong," Caleb replied, the corners of his mouth twitching into a nervous smile. “I’ve just been waiting for this my whole life. I’m a little nervous.”
“You’re nervous?” you asked dryly, raising an eyebrow. “The senior football player who took the prettiest girl in high school to senior prom is nervous about kissing me ?”
“She wasn’t the prettiest girl in our high school,” Caleb breathed out, as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek.
“Oh my gosh, Caleb!” you squealed, feeling your cheeks flush a deep crimson as you shoved your palm against his face. "Now you're making me nervous!”
“What!” Caleb said, laughing as he caught your wrist and pulled your hand away from his face. “That was the perfect line! I’ll never get a setup that good again!”
He lifted your wrist, guiding it above your head, and held it there.
"No, that's too dramatic," you claimed. "I'm embarrassed now."
"It was a compliment! I'm just being honest,” Caleb grinned. “Now, come on, are we doing this or not?"
You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, and squeezed your eyes shut. “Okay, maybe if I don't have to look at you."
“What, you don’t want to see my face?” Caleb teased.
“Not when you’re giving me that look!” you retorted.
“What look? Admiration? Love?” Caleb asked incredulously.
“Exactly. You get it,” you muttered, readjusting yourself underneath him, eyes still shut tight.
“Oh, so I gotta do all the work, huh, pillow princess?” Caleb complained.
Your face flushed even deeper, but you raised your chin defiantly. "Just do it already, Caleb.”
"Alright, alright, keep your crown on,” Caleb replied. You kept your eyes shut as you sensed him leaning closer, his breath ghosting over your face. It carried the fresh scent of toothpaste and Caleb and it made your mouth water, just a little.
There was a world of difference between what was happening now and what had happened with Eli, who had merely cast a dismissive side-eye your way while you were trying to explain the assignment, and he had silenced you by abruptly grabbing your face before you could even process his actions.
But this moment with Caleb was an all-consuming, full body experience. Your senses were on overdrive, enveloped in the warmth of his presence, while butterflies danced with frantic energy in your stomach, twisting anxiety in your gut, but this time it was the exhilarating kind.
It was a moment you had dreamed of since childhood.
Caleb's grip on your wrist tightened slightly, and his other hand settled on your waist, just above your hip bone. He had seen you naked tonight and you both were still nervous about your first kiss together. You really loved him with your whole heart.
Caleb’s lips grazed yours lightly, a whisper of a touch that sent a shiver down your spine. It was a fleeting peck, but as he leaned in to kiss you again, a huge grin spread across your face, causing his second kiss to land on your front teeth.
"What?" he asked, his laughter vibrating against your lips as he broke out into a matching grin.
You opened your eyes, meeting his.
“Stop smiling. I’m trying to kiss you,” Caleb commanded, feigning seriousness.
"I’m trying," you said, laughter bubbling up from within. “I can’t help it.”
Caleb leaned in for a third kiss, but the two of you were caught in a fit of giggles, and when you laughed particularly hard, your front teeth accidentally clacked against Caleb's with an audible smack.
“Ow!” you cried, immediately covering your mouth.
Caleb flicked your forehead lightly. “I told you to stop it.”
“You’re laughing too!” you accused, poking his chest with your finger.
Quick as a flash, Caleb snatched your hand and sunk his teeth into your palm.
“Ow!” you cried out once more, more surprised than hurt.
Caleb rolled the both of you over with a satisfied sigh, and you rested back on top of him, settling into your previous position, the soft glow of the fairy lights casting gentle shadows across your faces.
Caleb leaned in, his breath warm against your skin as he planted a possessive kiss on your forehead, lips lingering with a newfound boldness. “You won’t have to worry about guys thinking you’re single anymore,” he declared. “From now on, you’re my girlfriend, and I’m going to make sure everyone on campus knows it. I’ll shout it from the rooftops if I have to. You’re not available anymore, and no one touches you except for me.”
You giggled and nestled your face against his shoulder, feeling the soft fabric of his shirt against your cheek. As you leaned in closer, your nose hovered near his armpit, and you couldn't resist the temptation, so you pressed your face into the warm crook of his arm and inhaled deeply. The scent was intoxicating—a mix of spicy deodorant with a comforting aroma.
Startled, Caleb jerked slightly and looked down at you with wide eyes. “Did you just smell my armpit, you little freak?”
“Yeah, I did,” you replied smugly. “And I’ll do it again,” you threatened, leaning forward.
“What, no!” He quickly placed his hand on your forehead, trying to hold your face away from him. “I haven’t taken a shower yet!”
“Mmm, I like it this way,” you said.
“You are so…” Caleb groaned. “You’re too nervous to kiss me, but you aren’t ashamed of this?”
“You smell so good I can’t help myself,” you said, your eyes sparkling with delight.
Caleb shifted slightly, propping himself up on an elbow. "Okay, well, how would you like it if I returned the favor?"
A sudden realization hit you, and you blurted, "Wait, no, I haven't taken a shower either.”
"Uh huh," Caleb smirked, crawling over you as you attempted to wriggle away. "So you see now, you pervert?"
"No! No! Caleb! Stop!" Every time his face drew near, a wave of ticklish sensation coursed through your side, making you kick and squeal uncontrollably between fits of laughter.
"Woah, oh my god, you weren’t lying about not taking a shower, were you? You smell," Caleb said, his tone suddenly serious as he sat up.
"What?" you asked in horror, your face draining of color.
Caleb's face melted into a grin. “I’m kidding.”
"You asshole! You are so mean!” you yelled, swatting at his arm, your cheeks flushed with a mix of relief and indignation.
You and Caleb tumbled onto the bed, laughter erupting as you playfully grappled like you always had when you were kids. You attempted the self-defense moves he'd taught you years ago, moves that once had a chance against his strength, but now he easily overpowered you, his muscles honed and formidable.
But it felt just like old times, and you were grateful. Grateful that you two had managed to navigate the evolving dynamics of your relationship without losing the essence of what made it special. Caleb, first and foremost, was your best friend above all else. And you knew he always would be.
Caleb trudged across the soccer field and approached a group of players lounging on the bench.
“Which one of you is Eli?” Caleb called out, his voice carrying over the chatter.
The group exchanged puzzled glances, until one of them, a tall guy with sun-bleached hair and a jersey stained with mud, rose from the bleachers.
“That’s me,” the guy said, stepping forward and extending a calloused hand. “What’s going on, man?”
“Not much,” Caleb replied, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile, eyes glinting with purpose. “Just wanted to have a quick chat.”
Slipping an arm around Eli’s shoulders, Caleb steered him away from the group and headed towards the locker rooms.