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CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
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2025-07-01 05:33:15
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SWEET DEBAUCHERY: AN M/M COLLEGE, CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE CHAPTER FORTY
CALEB The first thing I register is voices—urgent, overlapping whispers that seem to come from somewhere far away, like under water. Then there's a hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently but insistently. "Caleb. Hey, Caleb, come on." I try to open my eyes, but the light feels like it's stabbing directly into my brain. Everything keeps tilting and straightening, like a broken camera trying to focus. The ceiling above me is white and unfamiliar until I remember—dorm room. My dorm room. "There we go." The voice is clearer now, and I recognize it. Luke. "Can you sit up?" I try, but my head feels like it's full of cotton and my arms are shaking. Someone slides a pillow behind my back, propping me up against the wall. The room spins for a moment before settling into focus. Luke is crouched beside my bed, looking concerned. Behind him, I see Vanya and Tony, both looking like they've been pacing. "What..." My voice comes out as a croak. "What time is it?" "Almost noon,"
SWEET DEBAUCHERY: AN M/M COLLEGE, CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CALEB My phone buzzes seventeen times Friday morning. I don't look at it. The screen lights up again and again from where I've shoved it face-down on my nightstand, Tim's name probably flashing with each desperate attempt to reach me. Part of me wants to read the messages, wants to see what excuses he's crafted, what lies he's spinning to make himself feel better about his manipulations. The bigger part of me wants to throw the damn thing against the wall. By noon, I'm stuffing my duffel bag with more force than necessary. I need to get back to campus, back to my dorm room where the walls don't echo with yesterday's disaster. The house feels different now. Smaller. Like the air itself has turned toxic. "You're leaving early." I turn to find Mom in my doorway, arms crossed over her chest in that pose she reserves for moments when she's about to deliver one of her lectures. Her hair is perfectly styled despite it being barely past noon, her blouse pressed and tucked e
SWEET DEBAUCHERY: AN M/M COLLEGE, CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CALEB The house smells wonderful. My mom's roast turkey, golden and perfect as always, mocks me from the kitchen. Even when everything else falls apart, she can still nail a holiday meal. Three forks gleam at each place setting because we're apparently dining with royalty today. "Glaze the carrots." She doesn't look up from her list, just points toward the stove like I'm hired help. I want to tell her I hate glazed carrots, that she's known this for sixteen years, but instead I nod and reach for the honey. Dad's commentary on some meaningless football game drifts in from the living room—his voice too loud, too desperate for normalcy after this morning's church performance where we all pretended to be a functional family. When the doorbell chimes at three-fifteen, Mom freezes mid-stir. "I've got it," I say, wiping sticky fingers on the dish towel. Tim stands on our porch wearing that navy sweater that makes his eyes stand out impossibly. Ellie clutches a store-bought pi
SWEET DEBAUCHERY: AN M/M COLLEGE, CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
TONYI hear the familiar knock: three quick taps, pause, two more and my stomach clenches. I've been dreading this moment for three days, since Sunday Luke texted that he finally has time to come over. Now it’s Wednesday.I've barely slept since then, surviving on coffee and the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that makes everything feel like it's happening underwater. My limbs feel heavy, disconnected from my body. Even thinking requires effort I don't have.The apartment feels cavernous without Vanya here, her absence making every sound echo. I drag myself to the door, I open it to find Luke standing in the hallway, hockey bag slung over his shoulder, hair still damp from practice. He looks alive, energized in that way he always does after being on the ice. The contrast between us makes me feel even more hollow."Hey," he says, that crooked smile I usually love nowhere to be found. He looks exhausted too, but it's the satisfied kind of tired that comes from doing what you love. I ste
SWEET DEBAUCHERY: AN M/M COLLEGE, CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CALEBVanya's holding her phone too close to her face when I accept the FaceTime request."Where the hell have you been?. You didn't text all weekend.""I was busy.""With what?" Tony cuts in. He's lounging sideways on his couch, hoodie half-off his shoulder, looking like he hasn't moved all day. "Your family? Church? Local gay crimes?""I wish," I say. They're calling together, split screen, both of them loud and nosy.Tony yawns. "So what's it like with Tim around?"I keep my face neutral. "Barely see him."Vanya snorts. "You're telling me the person who used to climb through your window at midnight is suddenly too busy?"I shrug. "He's busy with Ellie. They've got wedding stuff. I don't really talk to him."They believe it for about five seconds.Then Vanya squints. "What's on your neck?""Nothing.""Come closer.""No.""Caleb.""It's not—" I start, but Tony's already leaning toward his camera."Show us," Vanya says. "Now I'm curious."I roll my eyes and adjust my hoodie without t
SWEET DEBAUCHERY: AN M/M COLLEGE, CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CALEBTim leads me down the familiar path behind his house, past the vegetable garden where tomatoes hang heavy on their vines. My skin still tingles from his touch, and I can feel the heat of what just happened between us radiating through my body. The afternoon sun slants through the oak trees, casting everything in amber light that seems to pulse with the drone of bees.He glances back with that smile that undoes me every time, and I know where we're heading.The apiaries come into view, a dozen white boxes I've seen before and loved, scattered across the meadow like abandoned dice. The air is thick and sweet, heavy with the scent of wildflower honey and warm wax that I've come to associate with these stolen moments. Bees move in lazy spirals between the hives and the clover, their wings catching the light like scattered gold dust.The muscles in Tim’s forearms flex as he lifts the smoker. There's something primal about the way he moves among the hives, confident, reverent, like he
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