greatamazingfeelingsboy

Dec 21

Working on the car is a regular thing. Caleb has therapy on Sundays, and he works with Michael on the car on Fridays and Saturdays. Clint and the guys have invited Caleb out with them more than once since the dance, but Caleb is feeling a little... crowded by them.

By Clint.

Clint really likes Caleb, and it's weird. Not bad-weird, like Caitlin's butterflies, but also not good-weird, like Adam's. Just... weird. So he's bowed out, but he texts Clint regularly so he doesn't think Caleb hates him, or regrets dancing with him, or anything. They're friends. Caleb doesn't want him to think they're not.

Today, he's going into the shop, but with a different purpose in mind. He's got his school bag, but instead of his textbooks in it, he has the books he'd bought at the bookstore earlier in the week.

"Hey, Kid," one of the other shop guys greets. Tim, Caleb thinks his name is. "Michael's back by the car."

"Cool, thanks," Caleb says. It's weird to him, but in kind of a cool way, that the guys Michael works with are starting to recognize him.

He makes his way towards the car, because he knows which one Tim was talking about, and the closer he gets, the more easily he feels Michael's red coming out to meet him. He smiles at the familiarity, and sets his bag down near the car so he can examine how much work they've done so far.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Caleb feels his stomach drop out, like he's missed a step coming down the stairs. Excitement. It's tinged pastel pink with relief, and he grabs Michael in a hug before he can even think about it. Fortunately, Michael doesn't send him any immediate negative feelings, so he doesn't regret it, even if it does make him feel sort of silly.

Michael loves a good hug, and he doesn't get near enough of them these days, so when Caleb grabs him for one, he pulls him in, burying his face in Caleb's neck (since he's got a little height on him, just like Max does) and squeezes the back of his neck.

"I mean, it's empty, so you're not putting me out or anything. It's a lot of gratitude," he jokes. "But you're welcome."

Caleb huffs a laugh, but clings into the hug for a little longer. When he leans back away, he has to wipe the corners of his eyes.

"Sorry, sorry," he says. "I'm just. This is huge, for me. I'm gonna be able to sleep. Thank you so much. I'll— when can I move in?"

"Hey, kiddo, it's okay," Michael assures, because he doesn't mind the hug, it's just a lot of gratitude over something that doesn't seem worth it. "And I don't care. I might have to head over and get all the alien stuff in the second bedroom."

"That's the rule," he warns. "No one sees it. You don't let anyone see or touch it, you can stay as long as you want."

"Oh, shit, yeah," he nods enthusiastically. "No way, that's, no one will see it, I promise." He has to make sure to keep that promise, too, and mentally adds a locking door knob to his shopping list.

"Fuck, okay," he says. "I know it doesn't seem like a big deal to you, but. This is huge. This is so huge."

"Good," Michael says, maybe a little sharp, but it's important to him. The last thing he needs is someone finding out what he is or what he can do. That way leads to danger.

"But yeah, I get how big of a deal it is," he adds quietly. "I've been where you are, remember?" Michael knows all about shitty group homes, and terrible situations that don't let you sleep.

He nods, settling a little. On the outside, Michael seems put together, rock solid. When Caleb's not around him, feeling the red storm inside him, it's easy to forget that he's got a fairly fucked up past. He can relate a lot to Caleb's current problems because he'd lived worse versions of them, himself.

"Well—" he starts, then gestures at the car. "Let's put me to work! I'm suddenly really energized."

Michael lets out a laugh and gestures to the car with a nod of his head. "Go check out the color," he encourages. "While you were practicing your talents, I was getting a patch on there so you can see exactly what the green looks like when it's on."

He wanders back over, rapping his knuckles on the area. "What do you think?"

Caleb follows him to the patch. He'd given Michael paint chips that matched the shades of green that made him think of Adam. He had no idea how car paint worked, or if the protective layers over top would change the final color, so he'd let Michael choose the exact shade from those chips, in case it actually mattered, and...

"Fuck. Yes, that's. That's gonna be perfect."

Michael's pretty proud about that, because he'd genuinely been concerned that he'd picked the wrong green and Caleb was going to hate it. Lucky for him, they don't have to worry about that. "Perfect," he says, holding out mask and then paint gun.

"Then get to work, kiddo, put all that energy to good use."

(no subject)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject