Dev & Caleb — First Spark
It was Wednesday night, and the study hall smelled like stress, overpriced energy drinks, and cold takeout. Sam and Hayden were deep in argument over a sensor that wouldn't calibrate, muttering at each other in increasingly niche jargon.
Caleb sat nearby, slouched low in a cracked plastic chair, headphones half-on, spinning a pen between his fingers with expert boredom. He was there to give Sam a ride home. Nothing more.
That's when Dev walked in.
Not "walked" so much as arrived—all confidence and casually rumpled wealth, like he'd just stepped out of an expensive music video and accidentally wandered into an underfunded academic building.
Their eyes locked for half a second.
It was electric.
Dev blinked.
Caleb's pen dropped with a clatter to the floor.
"I didn't know Hayden had hot friends," Caleb said, louder than he meant to, definitely not quiet enough.
Dev smirked instantly. "Neither did I."
Sam and Hayden didn't even look up. Something sparked on their laptop and Hayden hissed, "Ow. That's your fault."
But Dev walked past them like they were scenery, pulled out the chair next to Caleb, and sat like he'd already decided this was going to be a game.
"Dev," he said, holding out his hand.
Caleb took it. "Caleb. What do you want?"
Dev leaned back. "That's a complicated question."
Caleb wasn't the type to get flustered. Not on stage, not at work, not when someone attractive looked at him a little too long.
But Dev wasn't just attractive—he was the kind of attractive that came with trouble. Tall, smug, and way too put together for a study hall. Button-down sleeves rolled with care. Hair styled like it had been ruined by wind on purpose. The kind of face you only saw in ads for cologne or international heists.
"So," Dev said casually, resting his chin in his hand as he looked Caleb up and down, "do you actually go here, or are you just haunting this place for the aesthetic?"
Caleb arched a brow. "I could ask you the same thing. You look like you got lost on the way to a gallery opening."
"Guilty," Dev said with a grin. "Though I think I've found something a lot more interesting than paintings."
Caleb blinked.
Then smirked.
He turned in his chair to face Dev fully, draping one arm across the back like they were in a bar and not under flickering fluorescent lights.
"You always this forward?"
"Only when I'm sure I'm right."
"And what are you right about?"
Dev leaned in slightly, just enough for Caleb to notice the heat between them. "That you've been watching me since I walked in."
Caleb laughed—low, surprised, a little delighted. "You're not wrong."
They didn't touch. Not yet. But there was a kind of pull between them now, humming under the silence that followed.
Across the room, Sam muttered, "Do you think it's safe to plug this back in?"
Hayden said, "If we die, I'm blaming your roommate."
Neither Dev nor Caleb noticed.
The room had settled into a low hum of focus. Sam and Hayden were finally syncing, murmuring over tangled cords and blinking circuits. Caleb and Dev, meanwhile, had settled into a rhythm of their own—trading lines like chess moves, matching energy and smirks.
Then it happened.
A pop. A flash. A yelp.
Sam jerked backward from the prototype, his chair screeching across the floor. "Ow—what the hell—!"
Hayden was on him in an instant. "Did it shock you?! Sam, Sam, look at me—are you okay?"
Sam shook his hand out, eyes wide. "Yeah—I think. It just bit me. Or something. Ow."
Caleb was halfway out of his seat when Dev moved first.
"Where's the nearest clinic?" Dev asked sharply, already pulling his phone from his pocket, his voice cutting clean through the noise.
Hayden answered quickly—"Across the quad, behind the theater building."
"I'll take him," Dev said, already rounding the table. "Hayden, finish the wiring. You know how the circuit paths run."
Sam blinked. "Wait, what—Dev, you don't have to—"
But Dev was already helping him to his feet, steady but gentle, his voice low. "Let's just make sure it's not serious. You can insult me after."
Caleb stood frozen for a moment, watching the way Dev handled Sam—efficient, calm, kind in a way that wasn't for show. It was… disarming.
"Dev," Caleb called, not even sure why.
Dev turned at the door, his arm around Sam's back, steadying him.
"Yeah?"
Caleb hesitated. Then smirked, softer than before. "Don't get zapped too. I like your face."
Dev's smile flickered wider—just for a second. "I'll keep that in mind."
Then they were gone, into the night air and across the quad.
Caleb sat back down slowly, glancing at Hayden, who was now muttering to himself about resistors.
He exhaled.
Maybe Dev was trouble. But maybe… not the kind Caleb was used to.
The clinic was quieter than expected—dimmed lights, a receptionist half-asleep behind the counter, and the faint smell of antiseptic lingering like a warning. Dev sat beside Sam on the edge of the examination bed, one ankle crossed over the other, jacket folded neatly across his lap.
Sam had a cold pack pressed to his hand, now wrapped in a loose bandage that looked more dramatic than necessary.
"I'm fine," he mumbled for the fifth time.
"You still flinched when the nurse touched you," Dev said calmly.
"That's because her hands were freezing."
Dev smirked but didn't argue. He handed Sam a small carton of apple juice from the vending machine, then leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. "Still. You screamed like a small woodland creature. Hayden would've never let you live it down."
Sam chuckled, sipping the juice. "You're not wrong."
Then the door burst open.
Hayden entered first, face pale, followed by Caleb—less frantic, but definitely invested.
"Sam!" Hayden crossed the room in seconds. "What did they say? Are you dying? Is your heart okay? Are your nerves fried?"
"Calm down," Sam said, smiling despite himself. "It's just a mild burn. No superpowers. Sorry."
Hayden exhaled and dropped into the seat beside him, running a hand down his face. "You're not allowed to get electrocuted when I'm not around."
"I'll pencil it in better next time."
Across the room, Dev and Caleb locked eyes again. The tension from earlier hadn't faded—it had shifted.
"You didn't have to bring him all the way here," Caleb said quietly, stepping closer to Dev.
"I know," Dev replied. "But I wanted to."
Something in Caleb's expression flickered—surprised, then amused. "Huh."
"What?"
"Nothing," Caleb said, leaning casually against the wall beside Dev. "Just didn't expect 'Knight in tailored armor' to be your thing."
Dev tilted his head, eyes narrowing just a touch. "And what's yours?"
Caleb smiled, slow and direct. "Apparently, it's you."
They didn't say anything else for a moment. Just stood there—two opposites pulled by the same charge.
Across the room, Hayden was still fussing over Sam's hand, pressing kisses to his knuckles like it would undo the static in his nerves.
Dev glanced toward them, then back at Caleb. "So. You free Friday night?"
"Depends," Caleb said, watching him carefully. "You asking me out, or asking me to get zapped for the plot?"
Dev grinned. "Why not both?"
Caleb laughed—and this time, didn't look away.