Callum Hunt was losing his mind.

"I knew it!" Tamara was screeching in the background. "I knew it!"

"Would you shut up?" Call hissed, his eyes darting back and forth from Tamara to Aaron's door. "He's gonna hear you!"

Tamara waved a hand.

"Aaron might take forever falling asleep," she consented, "but once he's there, he sleeps like the dead."

She sat down, cupped her hands around her mug of green tea, and took a long sip.

"Well, first things first," she said. "You're going to have to come clean with Celia."

Call's gaze shot down to the floor, like he was looking for the eyeballs that had just popped out of his head.

"You mean..." he couldn't finish the thought, but he didn't have to.

"Break up with her?" Tamara prompted. "Yes."

"But—"

"No, Call, shut up and listen. Celia's a nice girl. She's our friend. And the longer you draw this out, the further you string her along, the less chance there is of your friendship recovering, and I can't have that. She's my friend, too! If you guys hate each other, where does that leave me and Aaron?" she said, tactfully choosing not to mention Jasper.

"You'll make things awkward for everyone," she continued. "It's best if you get it over with now, and get it over with quickly."

"But what if..." Call trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

But what if she hates me? He'd never handled the prospect of losing a friend well. Wasn't that the entire reason he'd shut down his feelings for Aaron in the first place?

"You've been dating, what, a year?" Tamara asked.

"A little less than that," Call guessed, not really bothering to calculate the timeline in his head.

"She might not talk to you for awhile, but it's Celia. I'm sure she'll forgive you...eventually. It probably helps that you're dumping her because of Aaron, and not me."

Call nodded. They both knew that Celia secretly suspected something between them; she had handled Call's asexuality with difficulty, not understanding why he'd let her kiss him, but not let her into his pants. She had thought that, "I'm asexual," meant the same thing as "Let's wait awhile," and she didn't take it well when Call never warmed up to the idea of having sex with her. When Tamara came out to their friends as aromantic, it was much the same story. Celia thought Tamara meant she just wasn't ready for a relationship, and Call knew she privately looked down on Tamara for it, thinking it meant she was immature.

Her complete dismissal of their orientations had made it hard to be around her, so Call ended up hanging out with Tamara more than Celia, even if he didn't mean to. Predictably, Celia took that as proof positive that Tamara was a threat. Their friendship had been shaky for half a year after Call and Celia had begun dating. Call could understand why Tamara wanted to avoid another prolonged fall-out. Still, he wasn't sure he was brave enough to be the one to dump Celia. If only there was a way to make her dump him...

Call laid on his side, curled up into himself, his black hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his arms slung around his knees. It wasn't a very comfortable position, but that was kind of the point: Call was trying to stay awake. He'd just awoken from a dream with a terrible sense of guilt, and it only worsened when the dream came back to him.

The scene in the Refectory that afternoon. The same, but different. Aaron pushing Jasper off him, and telling him he wasn't interested. The version of events playing through Call's mind were the complete opposite of what had happened. This Aaron had told Jasper he was disgusting, that he could never see him that way, and that the very idea made him want to throw up. And, granted, the real Aaron might've said something like that if he were mad, but the real Aaron had let Jasper kiss him.

In the dream, Call had boldly told Jasper off, and declared he was in love with Aaron...in front of everyone, something the real Call could never have done. Not with Tamara and Celia and the entire school in the room. Even without an audience, Call would never have tried to tell Aaron who he was allowed to date, and not just because Aaron could suck him into the void, either. Call didn't believe trying to control someone else was love—if he'd learnt anything from his father, and all the issues they'd had, that was it.

Dream Call had kissed Aaron...

Okay, that was enough thinking about that.

...Had been kissed by Aaron.

Call bit the inside of his cheek, trying to police his thoughts. Stop it, that's disgusting. It wasn't right to be so selfish, to think these things, to betray his friends like this. 10 points in the Evil Overlord column.

The scene had changed, he remembered. He had closed his eyes, and the Refectory had faded away. Without opening his eyes, he didn't know how he had registered it, but he knew they were in his room.

Call tried to think of something else, anything else. He couldn't. 20 points in the Evil Overlord column.

It had felt real, which was ridiculous. Call didn't know what Aaron's weight against him felt like, didn't know how he smelled or tasted—the real Call had never made out with Aaron, would never make out with Aaron, so why was he thinking these things? He had to stop thinking about it. He was deluding himself. It wasn't going to happen. It might be unbelievable, he might not want to accept it, but...

Aaron's with Jasper. Get a grip, Call, he scolded himself. 30 points in the Evil Overlord column. It wasn't working. Would it ever work?

Call wanted to...What did he want to do, exactly? He was scared to think of it, to let the dream overtake him, but he lost his battle. He was tired, physically and emotionally—he wanted to sleep, he wanted to let himself have this one good dream. Call wanted to imagine what it felt like to fist his hand in Aaron's hair, or run his hands down his chest and clutch at his T-shirt.

Call was startled by the intensity of just how much he wanted Aaron's warmth, flowing from him into Call, as they sat pressed together, tangled together, inseparable, unwilling to be parted...

He'd never really made out with Celia. He'd kissed her, a few times, but when she made out with him...he didn't feel alive, hyper-responsive, and aware of everything she did. He felt as dead and stiff as a corpse beneath her, like an object being acted upon, with no will of its own. He'd never tried to escape her—kissing was just something couples do—but only now did he recognize the difference between actively engaging her, and just not fighting her.

Kissing Celia, kissing Aaron—it was the difference between the lichen facsimile of pizza, and pizza, real pizza. One was okay, but the other? That was the only kind worth having.

Call got caught up in the dream, and slipped back into sleep. He'd deal with his guilt over Celia tomorrow.

A/N: Two reviews? New chapter five days later, instead of seven. The rule holds: I'll post Chapter Three in a week, but I'll take a day off the wait for every review!

Next time!

But Aaron wanted this: He wanted Call, and he wanted Call to know it. After that, he could be okay with what would happen. He could let Call date Celia. He could go back to being friends with everyone. But he had to do this first. He had to confess to Call, because if Aaron was honest, he just couldn't live with not knowing whether he ever had a chance.

Stay tuned!