“Thanks for coming to work,” Landon snarked across the empty club at Callum as he and Jack pushed through the front door the following Friday.

Callum’s back straightened and his steps faltered. Jack shouldered him into the club, keeping one hand secure on the small of his back.

“Extenuating circumstances, Landon. Be nice or I’ll put you over my knee,” Jack warned, pressing a kiss to the side of Callum’s head before he dipped under the bar pass.

“You’re not my daddy, Jack,” Landon grumbled just before Gregory stuck his head out the office and narrowed his eyes on Jack.

“No one puts him over any knees besides me.”

“Keep him in line then,” Jack countered with a tilt of his head.

Gregory smirked and directed his attention to Landon. “Be nice.”

“If Jack could refrain from stealing my bartenders away before their shift even begins, I could manage to be nice.”

“I hand-delivered him to you tonight; you should be thanking me,” Jack said with a laugh and a flick of his wrist in Callum’s direction.

Callum’s cheeks turned rosy and he moved his attention away from Jack and back to the limes he was chopping.

“You should be thanking Callum,” Verity chided all of them, coming in from the back hallway with a box of new glasses in their arms. “He’s the one who ran this place while Jack was off pretending to die in New York.”

Callum sliced into the next lime harder than he needed to, nicking his finger with the dull bar knife.

“Fuck,” he grunted, raising his finger to his mouth and sucking. Jack rushed to the end of the bar and held his hand out.

“Let me see.”

Callum’s cheeks were still a brilliant pink as he rested his hand in Jack’s open palm.

“You’ll be fine,” Jack told him, tucking Callum’s fingers into a fist and giving his hand a squeeze.

“I know,” he answered softly. He took his hand back from Jack and dug around in a box near the cash register, producing a band-aid.

Jack gestured for him to hand it over, which he did. Callum unfolded his hand across the bar and let him wrap the injured finger in the bandage.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

Callum’s eyes were focused on Jack, his pupils dilated and reflecting Jack’s needy stare back at him.

“Can you go inventory the loft?” Landon interrupted the moment by sliding a clipboard between him and Callum.

Jack pressed a kiss to Callum’s bandaged finger then let him go with a nod of his head. Callum grabbed the paperwork and ducked out from under the bar and disappeared up the stairs.

Landon raised an eyebrow at him and stepped out from behind the bar.

“You don’t look nearly as happy to see me as you did last weekend,” Jack remarked, holding his arms out at his sides.

“I didn’t know you were fucking my bartender when you got here.”

Gregory walked toward them then came to stand behind Landon, his fingers wrapping around Landon’s waist with a pressure so strong that Jack even noticed it.

“I didn’t know he was your bartender when I got involved with him, but I don’t think I need to remind you he does exist outside of this lovely establishment of yours.”

“When did you know?” Landon asked, head cocked to the side.

“After I got home from the hospital.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Landon raised his voice and his body leaned forward, but Gregory pulled him back.

“Who I fuck hasn’t ever been your business, Landon,” Jack barked with an edge of warning in his voice. Landon was his friend, and they shared a lot of their lives with each other, but Landon was out of his mind if he thought his relationship to Callum, or anyone for that matter, had any bearing whatsoever on who Jack chose to bed.

“So are you staying with Callum then?” Verity asked from behind the bar, drawing his attention away from Landon.

“I have been this week, but not permanently. We haven’t talked about it in detail.”

Verity rolled their eyes.

“I’m sure you haven’t talked about a lot of things,” they replied with a laugh.

“We spent months talking,” Jack answered, a reminder to Verity and as new information to Landon.

“How many months?” Landon asked.

“Since April.”

“So are you staying with him?”

“I think it’s best if I still stay with you two awhile,” Jack confided, the earlier conversation with Callum rattling in his head.

“Have you met with Justin?” Verity asked, obviously trying to steer the conversation away from living arrangements since Callum was now on his way back down the stairs.

“I did. I’m meeting with HR on Monday.”

Callum walked by Jack, much closer than necessary and raised up on his tiptoes for a quick kiss. Jack seized his mouth and kissed him fervently, the heat simmering between them.

“Alright, that’s a bit much. Let’s not get carried away,” Verity clucked from behind the bar. “Our little Callum has some more limes to chop.”

Callum’s cheeks turned red again and he stepped away from Jack, joining Verity behind the bar and resuming the lime cutting he’d been doing earlier.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Landon’s voice was quiet and close behind. “Besides that, you’ve been here a week and I haven’t heard a fucking word from you.”

Jack watched Callum dump limes into a plastic tub under the bar while he laughed at something Verity said. His eyes darted across the bar to Jack then quickly refocused on the fruit in front of him.

“I’ve been occupied, Landon. I’m sure you understand. As for the other, we had a fight when I got home from the hospital. I didn’t know if he still wanted to be with me.”

“What did you fight about?”

“You.”

Landon was beside him now. “What do you mean you fought about me?”

“I mentioned my friend Landon was out from LA. He obviously knew you were gone to New York and we realized you were you. He wanted me to send you home and let him come out.”

Landon huffed a disbelieving sound.

“When did you stop fighting?”

Jack cast a sidelong glance at Landon. “Uhm, Monday?”

“You’re an asshole, Jack.”

“I’m his asshole.” He shoved his arm around Landon and relaxed when he finally cracked a smile.

Jack had no interest in being the clingy, annoying kind of partner that hung out at Callum’s work all night, especially after they’d agreed he’d be going to stay with Landon and Verity. So after the doors opened, he decided to go for a cruise by the beach. He borrowed Callum’s car for the time being, but he’d need to make other arrangements soon.

The commute had taken a ridiculously long time, even at eight o’clock on a Friday night, but Callum didn’t get off until after two so the drive time wouldn’t be an issue. He was disappointed to find out the Hot Dog on a Stick was closed, so he grabbed a taco from an overpriced restaurant on the pier then went down to the beach.

Jack took his shoes and socks off, tucking them under his arm and wading into the cool sand. It was summer, the air was still warm and the temperature of the sand sent a shiver through his body.

When he reached a spot that was as removed from people as he could find, he sat down and unwrapped his taco. It was dark, but just barely, the sun having set not too long before and Jack counted off the differences he’d already tallied between California and New York.

The sunsets obviously being one, the nicer beaches being another, and Callum being the bright and glaring third.

Jack had been surprised in the way his heart danced when Callum was in his proximity. It was a feeling he didn’t know how to describe beyond anything other than zen. When he was with Callum, it was almost as if everything else faded to a dull, ignorable hum. Jack had been in relationships before, some serious and some not, some men, some women, some a little bit of both or neither, but no one had ever made him feel the way Callum did.

He was equally surprised that feeling didn’t leave him unsettled. Instead it was a comforting feeling that danced around daydreams involving things like wedding rings, pets, and well-curated gardens.

A girl shrieked with laughter somewhere down the beach, pulling him out of his head. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Bowie.

Jack put his phone back into his pocket, not interested in knowing what Joseph and Bowie did to each other in that painfully red state they both lived in now.

With his distraction gone, Jack’s mind quickly drifted back to his earlier thoughts. He and Callum had talked about many things, but marriage hadn’t ever been one of them. Jack hadn’t talked about it with anyone because it wasn’t something he’d ever thought of as being a possibility. But these feelings were new, and these feelings were real and there were lots of things that he didn’t consider possible that might be now.

His phone vibrated and he removed it from his pocket, finding a text from Callum. It was just a picture of pouty lips and green eyes with the message, work is laaaaame.

Jack chuckled and put his phone away then stood, brushing the sand off the back of his jeans. He made his way back to the boardwalk, stumbling as the sand grew drier and finer near the concrete. He plopped down onto a bench and dusted off his feet, putting his shoes and socks back on before returning to Callum’s car and embarking on the long drive back to Pasadena.

He pulled into the parking lot at Rapture just before midnight and climbed the front stairs, the deep sound of a bass dance beat vibrating out of the building. He did his best to avoid the bar, not wanting to distract Callum from work and also maybe wanting to watch him a little bit. He wanted to see who Callum was when Jack wasn’t there.

Callum moved behind the bar so easily it was hard to picture him being anything besides a bartender. Jack experienced a quick pang of sadness when he remembered a conversation they’d had earlier in their relationship. Callum had confided his childhood dreams had revolved largely around the desire to be a veterinarian, but also a bagger at the local grocery store, so his sadness was fleeting.

Jack moved closer to the bar and pressed in against the wood. Callum’s head tipped to the side and he looked his way, as if he’d sensed Jack’s approach. His face split in a broad grin and he slinked down the bar toward him with a towel thrown over his shoulder.

“Daddy,” he said with a smile as he tossed a coaster down. “Let me make you a drink.”

“Surprise me, kitten.”

Callum smiled and stepped back, eyeing the wall of liquor bottles speculatively before grabbing a shaker and making him a drink.

“Surprise me, Daddy,” Verity purred in his ear a moment later.

Jack laughed and punched them in the arm.

“I’m not your daddy.”

“And what a shame that is,” Verity mused, “but it seems my loss is his gain.”

“And what about Aaron?” Jack asked.

Verity’s eye twitched, but the rest of their face didn’t betray whatever they were thinking. “I haven’t seen him.”

“Since when?” Jack pressed, just as Callum returned, setting a mixed drink in front of him with a proud grin.

He took a sip and smiled at Callum who was already off to mix another drink for someone farther down the bar. Jack turned his attention to Verity who still hadn’t answered his question.

“Since when, you harlot?” he asked again.

Verity licked their lips and fiddled with a strap on their shirt. “This morning.”

Jack’s brows furrowed in concern.

“Oh, stop,” Verity interjected, “I’m a grown up, I can take care of myself.”

Jack scratched at the side of his lip, thinking about taking care of Callum.

“I know you can, but you shouldn’t have to.”

“That’s very Daddy of you, Daddy.” Verity reached over and took a small sip of Jack’s drink before placing it back on the bar.

“I can’t help it,” Jack replied with a shrug.

“And that’s why you and him are perfect for each other.” Verity shrugged too and smiled, then disappeared into the crowd.