Page 111 of Should the Sky Fall

“Well, it was a lot.” He busies himself by pulling more towels out of the machine. His red t-shirt falls out, revealing the culprit of the pink disaster. “For one, Ashley—Ash—is a man. But it was good. Made me really think about some things. I have another one in two weeks.”

“Did you talk about me?”

Not wanting to lie—plus, Cal isn’t stupid, he must’ve figured it out—Dawson admits, “Yeah, we did.”

Cal nods, as if filing that information away. “Next time you see him, please don’t tell him your husband turned our towels pink.”

Dawson laughs at the thought of describing the incident to Ash. “I can’t promise anything.”

“Dawson!” Cal gasps, grabbing the other end of the towel Dawson’s holding and giving it a pull. “Promise you won’t.”

“Nope.” He tugs at the towel, then Cal does the same. Soon, they’re both pulling at it, laughing and yelling. Cal somehow manages to win and get the towel, so Dawson reaches into the machine and pulls out another one, throwing it on Cal’s head.

Cal lets out a muffled yelp, fighting the towel off. His hair is in disarray when he pulls it off, and he glowers at Dawson, which only makes him laugh. Cal throws the towel at him, and while Dawson is busy catching it, Cal reaches into the machine and starts pulling out whatever is there, throwing the whole pile at Dawson.

Dawson squeaks as he gets buried under the pile of wet, cold towels. He doesn’t know how it happens, but the towels end up on the floor, and so do the two of them, laughing and roughhousing. Somehow, Dawson ends up on top, and Cal lets out a grunt. It snaps him out of the playful mood straight away, and Dawson scrambles off him.

“Shit. Sorry. Are you hurt?” He starts pulling up Cal’s shirt to check, but Cal’s hands stop him.

He lets out a choked laugh. “I’m fine.” Taking advantage of the distraction, he grabs a towel and throws it over Dawson’s head, making him squeal.

“You cheater!”

“You weren’t paying attention!”

Dawson fights the towel off, glaring down at Cal, prepared to fight back, when his next words lodge in his throat.

Cal is laughing, his shoulders shaking with it. There’s a dimple in his left cheek Dawson’s never seen before, and his crow’s feet are incredibly prominent with the force of his smile.

He notices Dawson watching him, and his laugh slowly dies off, replaced by something serious, more intense. They stay like that for a moment, Dawson hovering above him, making sure not to press on any injuries but unable to move further away. His heart hits his sternum with enough force to make his breath catch and he wants to…he wants to…

“Are you hungry?” he asks, his voice sounding strange to his own ears, like he’s hearing it through a veil.

On cue, Cal’s stomach growls. It makes them both chuckle.

“I could eat.”

Nodding, Dawson pushes himself off Cal and stands up. “Let me whip something up.” He reaches down to help Cal stand, trying to ignore the way their joined hands send a trickle of…something up his arm. He lets go, hurrying to the kitchen and pulling from the fridge whatever he gets his hands on.

Cal trails after him, leaning his elbows on the island and watching him work.

“Can I help?” he asks after a while.

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” Dawson says with surprise. Even though he probably should’ve expected it. Lately, Cal has been nothing but a ball of curiosity. “How about you drizzle a bit of oil in the pan and let it heat. Then chuck these in.” He hands him the chopping board with the onions.

Nodding, Cal does just that, watching the pan with intense gaze. “How do I know it’s hot enough?”

“You can put a drop of water in there. If it sizzles and hisses, it’s ready.” To demonstrate, Dawson wets his hand, then flicks his fingers at the pan, a few droplets flying inside it. The oil starts spitting, making Cal jump.

“I take it it’s ready?” he says dryly.

“Yup,” Dawson says with a chuckle.

Cal puts the onions in, taking a wooden spoon and pushing them around.

They work together like that and it’s nice; domestic. It brings back memories from the time Dawson’s parents were still alive and he’d assist his mom in the kitchen, asking so many questions.

This time, it’s Cal who asks questions, but Dawson doesn’t mind, smiling at his curiosity and how intently he focuses on completing the tasks like he’s going to be graded on them later.