Caleb Michaels (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
greatamazingfeelingsboy) wrote2020-01-10 04:07 pm
greatamazingfeelingsboy) wrote2020-01-10 04:07 pm
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Saturday, Jan 11, 2020
Michael doesn't text. It's kind of a thing, with him. He doesn't text, he barely answers his phone, and honestly, Caleb is pretty sure the only reason he even keeps it around is on the off chance that Alex does need to call him for something.
But he doesn't text, and he certainly doesn't text Caleb.
They'd been working on the car, like usual, and had a break for lunch. Caleb had gone out for something — he's got a relatively steady income, now, so he has some extra money, and can get away with that sort of thing — and finished it there at the cafe, instead of taking it back to the shop. The last time he'd done that, he'd been too full to actually work on the car. He'd learned his lesson: the walk back was usually enough to chill out the food baby.
When he gets back to the shop, though, Michael isn't back yet. Caleb figured he'd probably gone home to share lunch with Alex, and that he'd be a little longer than usual. But their lunch hour ends, and he still isn't back.
And that's when his phone chimes.
Something came up. I'll see you later.
Caleb frowns down at his phone, but he doesn't answer, because Michael doesn't text. For a long minute or two, he actually stares at his phone, and wonders if it's a joke — if the 'something' is Michael's dick, or something. But that still doesn't track.
So he heads to their apartment. It's not a long walk, but Caleb feels like it takes longer than usual. He's thinking of all the different things that could've caused Michael to text him, and so far his brain has concocted everything from 'Alex lost his other leg' to 'Died in a fiery explosion.'
And, sure, that last one doesn't make sense, because how could Michael text him if he'd died in a fiery explosion?
He gets to Ocean View at last, the beach nearby filling his ears with ocean surf and quieting the rise of feelings coming from the first floor apartments. He waits a moment outside the door, and reaches out for Michael's feelings.
But they're not there. The red wall that reflects his own yellow into orange isn't there. There's no rush of sunset purple swirling around him like a blanket. It's just Alex's blue, quiet and calm and focused on... whatever it is Alex focuses on.
Okay, this is getting weirder. He knocks on the door, waiting for Bopp's answering howl and the inevitable curiosity that must be Alex wondering who's at the door.
Michael doesn't text. It's kind of a thing, with him. He doesn't text, he barely answers his phone, and honestly, Caleb is pretty sure the only reason he even keeps it around is on the off chance that Alex does need to call him for something.
But he doesn't text, and he certainly doesn't text Caleb.
They'd been working on the car, like usual, and had a break for lunch. Caleb had gone out for something — he's got a relatively steady income, now, so he has some extra money, and can get away with that sort of thing — and finished it there at the cafe, instead of taking it back to the shop. The last time he'd done that, he'd been too full to actually work on the car. He'd learned his lesson: the walk back was usually enough to chill out the food baby.
When he gets back to the shop, though, Michael isn't back yet. Caleb figured he'd probably gone home to share lunch with Alex, and that he'd be a little longer than usual. But their lunch hour ends, and he still isn't back.
And that's when his phone chimes.
Something came up. I'll see you later.
Caleb frowns down at his phone, but he doesn't answer, because Michael doesn't text. For a long minute or two, he actually stares at his phone, and wonders if it's a joke — if the 'something' is Michael's dick, or something. But that still doesn't track.
So he heads to their apartment. It's not a long walk, but Caleb feels like it takes longer than usual. He's thinking of all the different things that could've caused Michael to text him, and so far his brain has concocted everything from 'Alex lost his other leg' to 'Died in a fiery explosion.'
And, sure, that last one doesn't make sense, because how could Michael text him if he'd died in a fiery explosion?
He gets to Ocean View at last, the beach nearby filling his ears with ocean surf and quieting the rise of feelings coming from the first floor apartments. He waits a moment outside the door, and reaches out for Michael's feelings.
But they're not there. The red wall that reflects his own yellow into orange isn't there. There's no rush of sunset purple swirling around him like a blanket. It's just Alex's blue, quiet and calm and focused on... whatever it is Alex focuses on.
Okay, this is getting weirder. He knocks on the door, waiting for Bopp's answering howl and the inevitable curiosity that must be Alex wondering who's at the door.