greatamazingfeelingsboy

Entry tags:

neil perry

(no subject)

Caleb sends the text before he goes into therapy, so he isn't fixated on waiting for Neil's response. Which, he isn't. He wouldn't be. It's not a date, or anything. It's a simple invite to go shopping and grab some lunch. Neil had seen firsthand how bare Caleb's apartment is, and he wouldn't mind some help getting something a little more... homey.

It's probably playing with fire, honestly. When he's with Neil, Caleb can feel the butterflies, and the actual horniness can get a little overwhelming, but Caleb thinks, probably, that he can handle it. It's just another thing to learn how to balance, right? And now that Dr. Fuller knows about his ability, it'll be easier to find an effective way to do that.

He thinks.

He hopes.

After therapy, he checks his phone, and smiles when he sees an answer. Caleb offers to pick him up, unless he'd rather meet at the store.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Neil's at work when he gets the text, but toward the end of his shift, and it gives him something to look forward to. He sends a text to Rosie, asking her to take Mercy Beau out for his afternoon walk if she can, and then he texts Caleb back. Of course, lunch sounds good. Shopping.

Friendly things.

The second text makes Neil screw down a smile a little bit, and one of his coworkers tease him about it as he's tapping out a slow response. No need to pick him up, he's not far, and he likes to walk.

His boss lets him off early, and he hustles out of the coffee shop to go to the store to meet Caleb, reminding himself that it's just friendly.

He's sitting on the hood of his car when Neil gets there, and he grins, sliding off so he can meet him.

"Hey. You mind if we stop at the cafe inside first? Therapy was... a little rough, today."

He's gotten more comfortable when telling people he's in therapy. Dr. Fuller thinks it's important to normalize that sort of thing, even if he doesn't talk about why he goes at all. There's nothing wrong with therapy, and it's helped Caleb a lot.

The mention of therapy makes Neil a little flighty. It's a thing that sick people do, back home. It's not a judgment, more like a concern. Is therapy supposed to be rough? Neil doesn't know. He just remembers a single hissed threat of an institution one time, and then he never let his parents know how deeply, deeply unhappy he was ever again.

"No, that's fine," he says, without missing a moment. He smiles. "If I'd known, I would have brought you something from work. Do you want to get lunch first?"

The sudden flash of orange concern surprises Caleb, and he reminds himself that Neil is from the 50s. He reminds himself to look up, later, when therapy became a little more common and less something to be ashamed of.

"No, no, I just want some tea. It... kinda helps settle me?" That's an understatement, but he can't tell Neil about his ability. He's not ready for that. He leads Neil towards the door, and explains, "We talked about some stuff from home, and it just got... hard, that's all. Tiring."

"Gosh, I know how that is," Neil says, because he does. Even when he's talking about good things, it gets heavy sometimes. And that's not to mention everything else, the things he mentions sometimes, and the other things, the stuff he doesn't talk about at all.

He gets the door, an instinctive gesture even if Caleb's a little bit taller and broader than him.

"But really, you could have said. I work at a cafe, I could have brought some tea." Neil laughs a little. "I don't know shit about tea, but I could have brought some at least. Now I feel like a shill."

"Nah, Man, it's okay," he assures, smiling easily. "I mean, I didn't know you worked at a cafe, and I have no idea what a shill is, but, like, it's fine." He steps into the in-house cafe and into the line. "D'you want anything? Wait, you're probably so sick of coffee."

"I basically exist on coffee and scotch," Neil says with a laugh, which maybe isn't funny, but he's still doing it, soft and gentle as they get into the line. "I might get something to eat, though, I haven't since I got to work. We were busy today."

Not irregular, but surprising since it was an early morning shift. Still, Neil doesn't mind. A cookie, and he'll be good until lunch.

"So what are we shopping for, exactly?"

"Fuck, I dunno," he says with a laugh. He orders his tea, and he sort of blushes when the barista smiles coyly at him, and turns to lean his lower back (well, his butt, actually, since he's so tall) against the counter while he waits.

"I need, like, decor, or something? So my apartment isn't so fucking tragic." He grins, though, and shrugs. "Like, artwork, or a rug, or something."

"It's not tragic it's just--new."

They were all new, once, and some people didn't want to become lived in at all, with the hope of going home. But Neil is happy to help, happy to be invited along.

"Do you know what you like? A theme? Or are we just going to go and see what we like and hope for the best?" He smiles and takes the cookie he's ordered, munching it happily. "That's a surefire way for me to point out anything with a tropical fruit on it, by the way. I think they're ridiculous."

Caleb laughs, and turns when the barista says his name. He accepts his cup with a thanks, and turns back to Neil. As he lifts his cup for a sip, he sees a phone number scrawled there, and he pretends he doesn't.

"I dunno, I figure, like... if I see something I like, I'll grab it?" He realizes that's not only a terrible way to shop, but also a dangerous one, because it can mean that his apartment looks like garbage, and it could get very expensive, very fast. "We should probably grab a shopping cart, just in case."

Caleb acts like he doesn't see the number, but Neil knows that he does, because Neil's tried that trick himself. He doesn't mention it. They step away from the cafe, and he smiles, heading straight for the carts and grabbing one.

"I'll try to not let you go too wild," he says. "I do have some taste. And if we're hanging out, I have to see whatever you put in your apartment, don't I?"

"Exactly," Caleb says with a nod. "See, this is why I invited you. I knew you'd get it."

Once they're away from the cafe, Caleb heads towards the home decor section. He definitely needs bathroom rugs and stuff, but he also wants actual, nice stuff to look at.

"So, I think I want some wall art?" he says. "Like, I've got that picture of me and Alex, but that's basically it. So something to kinda... make it less quiet, or something."

Neil nods along, leaning over the cart a little bit as they head along. He watches Caleb, just a little ahead of him, enjoying the ease he has, the casualness. "Any kind of art in particular? Or just, like...decorative stuff? You can go a lot of ways with that. Or just doing up lights or something. I did that in my old place, I just put up string lights. It was nice."

"Probably just decorative? I know shit about art. If Chloe were here, she'd know exactly, like, where to go and what to grab. She might even help me paint something myself." He glances back at Neil and explains, "Chloe's a friend from home. She's a really, really good artist."

"I bet you know more than you think," Neil starts to say, except then he looks up and Caleb's still looking at him and he sort of falters on whatever else he was going to say. It was probably silly and overly romantic anyway.

They step into the home decor section, and Neil looks away at the wall of frames and decorations and everything else, ignoring the flush on his cheeks.

Caleb takes a deep pull from his tea and pretends he hasn't noticed the flush. He follows Neil's lead, looking at the stuff all around them. He sees some of the stuff that the store seems to carry year round, like little fake succulents that remind him of Michael and Alex's succulent wall, or colorful, woven baskets that are just really nice to look at.

There are some enormous vases, the kind you stick fake branches in, and some fake branches in the very next section. Caleb shakes his head, smiling.

"I dunno, Dude, maybe I should hit a thrift store," he says. He's mostly kidding, but he does wonder, just a little.

"You can do that too," Neil points out kindly.

He grabs one of the preframed generic pictures, a panoramic cityscape that might be Darrow, or it might be New York, or it might be nowhere at all. But it's all sunset and glowing vibrantness.

Neil grabs the edge of it. "What about this? It's good colors."

He looks at it, and his eyes soften, because it reminds him of Alex and Michael, of the way Michael's red and Alex's blue blend together. He smiles, then nods. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I like that one." He nods again and moves the cart closer so they can set it in.

After that, it seems easier. Caleb finds a few more prints that he likes, of various sizes. He grabs a chamomile candle and a kinda cool holder for it. He finds some pillows and a blanket for his couch, and bathroom rugs. He grabs some curtains for his windows, and after some playful debate with Neil, allows him to put some string lights in the cart, too.

And, since this store also has a grocery section, Caleb leads Neil down there so he can grab some hot pockets and other microwave meals. Literally nothing that he has to put much effort into making.

Neil can't judge on the cooking front. He makes casserole, and that's about it. Everything else is ordered in or taken out, and he's burnt water before, which he didn't realize was a thing you could do until he did it.

He's telling Caleb about that as they head toward the cash wrap, easy and casual and self-deprecating because it's how he knows how to be. When the reach the front of the store, he says, "You're not going to let me get anything, are you?"

"Nope!" Caleb says cheerily. "But you can come back to my place and help me get some of this shit up." He grins as he loads his things onto the belt, and greets the cashier when she greets them both. She doesn't have any butterflies, thank God, so Caleb swipes his card while she rings him through. Once everything is back in the cart, and Caleb has his receipt, he walks them out to the parking lot.

"And order us pizza for lunch?" Neil asks, but it's not really a question so much as a statement. The girl ringing them out glances, briefly, between Neil and Caleb, and Neil just smiles because what else can he do about it? What's the sin in buying pizza for your friend who you're helping to decorate?

They load up the car, and Neil slides in and, this time, does up the seatbelt so he doesn't get chastised, or fall pray to the compulsion to slide across the bench toward Caleb.

Caleb grins a little. "I will literally never say no to food," he declares. He gets them back on the road, headed towards High Gate, and changes the radio to CD, so he can play Alex's album. It isn't just that he's proud of him, and wants to show him off. It's genuinely good music, in Caleb's opinion.

Neil likes it too, though he doesn't know it. It has a good sound and it's easy to hum along with, tapping his heel along to the beat. He futzes on his phone to place an order for pizza while they drive.

"Toppings?"

"I'm good with whatever," Caleb answers, and when he feels Neil's exasperated reaction — like Caleb is trying to be easygoing and actually just being difficult — he glances over and says, "No, really, like, the only thing I won't eat is anchovies?"

"So, extra anchovies and pineapple, then," Neil says with some laughter and a roll of his eyes as he orders them two large pepperoni. Even if they only eat a bit while Neil's there, helping, Caleb will have plenty left over.

"Okay it should be there in about twenty minutes, so we'll have plenty of time to figure out sort of where you want things."