greatamazingfeelingsboy

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early Jan

Being in a feminine body is... different, but not bad. Now that he's been assured that, yes, this is a thing Darrow does, and, yes, he's going to change back, Caleb's taken the time to sort of... get used to the idea. He's still pretty tall, though not over six feet anymore. Rosie had helped him get his hair into a ponytail so it's not in his face, and then she'd blessedly helped him buy clothes so he didn't feel totally weird.

He doesn't really want to talk about the bra experience.

But it's Saturday, so now he has to face Michael. He hadn't been anticipating that. He'd ended up trying to call him, but, of course, it went to voicemail. He was the worst. So, dressed in his new, much better fitting clothes, Caleb makes his way to the shop.

Tim greets him like always, with a smile and a "Hey, Kid," and doesn't seem to think there's anything weird about Caleb being girl-shaped. That's... kinda weird.

"Hey," he greets, still a little thrown off by the sound of his new voice. Then he makes his way back to the car he and Michael have been working on.

He braces himself for Michael's feelings, squares his shoulders, and calls out another "Hey," loud enough for Michael to hear him.

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Michael's not really paying attention, not really. For a genius, he often misses the really obvious things in front of his face, and when he glances up, he sees a girl coming to the back of the shop. She looks familiar, but not in a way that Michael can place (again, really bad at this), and he pries off his mask. "Hey," he says, and she looks around Caleb's age, so...

"You here with a message from Caleb or something? He bailing on me to have a life?" he jokes, because he wouldn't blame him if he did.

Caleb sighs and reaches up to rub his face. He'd had to shift the mood ring from his pinkie to his thumb. It was the only finger it fit on, now.

"Michael, it's me," he says with a sort of groan. "Also, fuck you, I'm not a coward. If I were gonna bail, I'd tell you myself, not send a friend."

Michael glances up and takes a closer look. He'd wanted to text Caleb right after the whole New Years thing, but then he'd forgotten and his cell had been far away, then he'd forgotten to do it when he got home, and...well, here they are.

He squints at him, seeing the mood ring, and then hearing the voice. The patter is similar, but it's still weird, because he knows about the age thing, but this is new. "...Wait. For real?"

"Yes,, for real," he insists. "I went to bed last night as your average, totally normal empath, and this morning I woke up and my fucking dick was gone." He hisses out the rest, pacing a little. Michael's initial confusion is a comfort, because at least it means he's not laughing at him, or somehow knew this could happen and never told him.

Michael shouldn't be so interested in it, but he is. He's not sympathetic and he's not about to tell Caleb he's sorry, because what's so wrong with it. Now that he looks closer, yeah, he can tell that Caleb's kind of looking like he would if he had a sister.

"I mean," he says, "You're still good looking, you got both legs, what else could you want?" He's in a stupidly good mood, has been since they got back only last night, but he feels like maybe this is only going to annoy Caleb.

"Um, to be in my regular body?" he points out. He hugs himself, arms up under breasts that feel weird and in the way. Michael's mood is buoyant, bubbly, and Caleb's finding it hard to stay annoyed.

At least he's not laughing at him.

"What, you— you didn't know this was a thing?"

Michael shrugs. "I mean, I was seventeen," he says. "Why not switch you like this? I mean, for me, it'd be shitty, because then my sex life would pretty much be me and my hand," he quips, and he can't help it.

He gives Caleb a smirk, knowing that he's not going to like the question, but he's still going to ask. "You done that yet? The whole, you know, female pleasure thing?"

Caleb feels his face and his lower belly heat, and his eyes go huge. "What? No! What the fuck, Dude." He looks around to make sure no one was close enough to hear Michael's remark. "I can't just..." He gestures with one hand sort of vaguely, and he has no idea what he's trying to convey. "I, I mean. Can I?"

Michael squints at him. "Seriously? Are you sure you're seventeen?" he demands, "Because if I were seventeen and suddenly I woke up with a body that was a girl's, I'd be going to town," he admits, smirking at him, though maybe this is a question that he should've asked first.

"...or, not bisexual? No interest?" Michael wonders. "Because, like I said, if that were me, I don't think Alex would wanna touch me like that for a while."

Fuck, everything from his navel down feels really weird, and he's really glad that Michael can't feel his feelings, because he'd be getting a lot of mixed, warm, aroused, confused sensations. He swallows and rolls his eyes, still blushing.

"No, I just. I've had a lot on my mind! No one warned me this was a thing, and I've been freaking out! Then I had to get clothes, Dude— do you know how weird it is to try on a bra? I mean, I knew the basics, but—"

Michael ducks back to the car, hiding his smirk, but there's no hiding how he's still just happy from Caleb, because of the emotions thing. He's kind of hoping that maybe Caleb will take it as meaning that Michael's just amused by this whole event.

"You could've gone braless. I would've," he deadpans, because he's pretty sure he wouldn't have gone to the trouble. Yank on a hoodie and a t-shirt, a shitty pair of jeans, and he'd just go about his life.

"Are you kidding me? No way. These things are the worst." He hugs his chest now, pouting, but also trying a little not to laugh. The longer they talk about it, and the more he feels Michael's feelings, the harder it is to be upset. He walks around to the opposite window so he can see Michael's face.

"What are you so happy about? This isn't something..." He trails off, realizing that Michael isn't happy for him, or amused. It doesn't feel like that — like that cotton-candy sweetness dancing over his tongue. It feels like sunlight, bright and beaming and warm.

He thinks back to the past few days, of something that would make Michael so happy. Only Alex really brings that out in him, and he's not here right now.

Michael feels like he'd definitely give less of a shit, but then, that's basically his life. He presumes that he'd throw on a white t-shirt and a uniform, head to work, and let things be. His hair would probably be a disaster, but hey, when's it not?

"This is pretty damn amusing," Michael says, leaning against the car, smirking. He doesn't have a ring because his left hand is mangled, and he hadn't bought one for himself, but he doesn't need to.

He's engaged, that's really all that matters.

"No, this isn't 'laugh at Caleb' happy, this is something else. This is the kind of happy you feel around Alex. It's way warmer and less, like, targeted." He narrows his eyes, then widens them again. "Oh, fuck. New Year's Eve!" He gasps and rounds the car so he's closer to Michael again. At least his legs are still long. "Did you—? Did he—? Fuck, Dude, tell me everything!"

Michael's making a face like he has no idea what Caleb is talking about. "It was a good date," is all he says, because he's having a good time having this just to themselves, at least for now. "We'll have you over for dinner, okay?"

"So, this..." he says, gesturing to Caleb's general person. "What exactly do you need, here? I mean, I doubt it's advice."

"Ugh," Caleb protests, but doesn't push the matter. Fine. Michael can bask, and Caleb will quietly bask with him.

"What? No, I do not want advice about any of this from you," he says, making a sweeping gesture at himself. He doubts anything Michael has to offer would be helpful, anyway, beyond serving to make him blush and feel weirdly hot.

...At least he isn't popping an awkward boner.

"I just... it's Saturday. Car day. I figured... something a little normal would be good to take my mind off of this... weird, fucked up thing the city apparently did."

Michael smirks at him, and it's not that he doesn't want to share it, but he also thinks it'd be better if he and Alex got to tell Caleb together, just the way that they're going to be for the rest of their lives. "And hey, I'm okay for advice!" he protests defensively.

"I mean, I guess I'm not the worst person in the universe of advice," he maybe clarifies, and shrugs. "It's...yeah," he says, and okay, yup, maybe he is. "And yeah, it's car day, but clearly things are uh...different for you," he quips. "You can take the day off."

Caleb tries not to look as disappointed as he feels, but it probably doesn't work. "Are you sure?" It's not like he has anything else to do, and he is not going to try to hang out with any of his classmates today, not looking like this.

Michael feels a little bad, but it's not like he wants Caleb to just go away. He rubs his hands off on the towel. "I'm just saying we don't have to stick around here, if you wanted to go somewhere else," he offers. "We can head out anywhere you want, or I can hand you an elastic band for the hair and we can do this."

"Up to you, kid."

Caleb takes a breath and pulls all of his hair over one shoulder, doing a quick, messy braid. It's awkward, because he's never braided hair from this angle, but he manages, and makes a grabbing gesture for an elastic.

"I want to do car day," he says.

"Okay," he says, and smirks. "But before we do car day," he says, and gestures for Caleb to wander over. "I had a sister-type person who made me braid her hair and let her practice makeup on me," he says, and yanks Caleb's hair out of that messy braid, shifting behind to start doing one of Isobel's complicated fish-tail braids that she'd made Michael learn.

He has to ignore a few fingers to do it, but he has his powers to help keep it in place where necessary.

"Unless you're going for the messy aesthetic, in which case I can give it a few yanks, put it back."

"A sister-type person," he echoes with am amused snort. He reaches back to touch the braid when Michael's done. It's way more out of his face than before, and feels kinda cool, actually. "You'll have to teach me how to do this so I can braid my sister's hair."

"I don't know if she's my sister, she just acts like an annoying older sister would," he says, though deep down, he knows that Isobel is the most precious person to him in the world outside of Alex, and if he and Max hadn't had a falling out, then he would be the next person on that list.

"It's a fishtail. Iz made me do all sorts of complicated hit to her hair when we were growing up, because Max refused."

Caleb's quiet as he turns around to face Michael, now that his hair is properly tended to. "You really love her," he notes, eyes going a little soft. "Sorry, I, I don't want to make you sad, I just. It's nice."

"I'd do anything for Isobel," Michael admits, because he knows that he's already gone further than most people would (after all, not everyone takes the brunt of blame for three murders, not unless you really love someone).

He shrugs, because that's just his life. He's not sure that she'd do anything for him, because he's not Max, but it doesn't matter. "You wanna work on the tires today? Get them on the rims?"