(no subject)
Caleb had hated to leave home. He’d hated to leave Devin behind, but he hadn’t been able to stay. He hadn’t been able to stand living in the small town anymore without his Grams; he hadn’t been able to stand the prospect of going back to the people who he’d never wanted to be near and asking them to take him in. So he’d taken his first out and he’d left for New York City. He’d known that things were going to be difficult; he’d known that everything about the situation was going to be difficult. It wasn’t just going to be starting over in the huge city that was going to be hard, it was going to be doing it without Devin. Leaving Devin behind had been one of the worst things he’d ever gone through, knowing that Devin was putting on a stoic face and telling him he could handle it, all while Devin was more than likely falling apart inside. Caleb had promised him he’d come back, he’d promised him that he would bring him out to New York as soon as he could, as soon as Dylan was grown.
Caleb was 18 when he left for New York City, in a beat up old van with as much recording equipment stuffed into it as he’d been able to afford. It was all secondhand stuff, all things that he was going to have to use in very specific ways, things he was going to have to coddle to work. He’d had a bit of a recording studio in the basement of his Grams house before she’d passed, just days after his 18th birthday, and he’d been lost as to what to do from there. His aunt had gotten the house, and she had said he could stay but he’d have to get a “real job” and stop with this silly music crap. Caleb had stared at her for a long moment before impulsively telling her no, and that he’d leave. His Grams had left him a good chunk of cash, he could use that to establish himself in New York. He could start his own studio there, he could have somewhere to live. He could do this. He would make it. But it would mean leaving Devin.
Devin had been Caleb’s entire world when he’d first come to live with his Grams in Michigan. His parents had been detained for their therapy, they’d been locked away in a special facility and their parental rights had been revoked. He’d legally become his Grams’ and he’d met Devin that first day, with his brother Andy. Devin was the boy next door, eight months older than Caleb himself, and the sweetest person Caleb had ever met. They’d instantly bonded, with Devin asking him why he’d moved there and Caleb trying to scramble to find a reason before he’d blurted out the truth. Devin, for all his part, had just nodded his head and had told Caleb that he could come over and use their pool whenever he wanted, or play video games. Caleb had taken him up on the offer and had learned pretty quickly that Devin’s life was… Well, Devin and Andy’s lives were nowhere near good. They weren’t the same kind of bad that Caleb had been through, but they were still bad, and Caleb had found himself wanting to protect them as much as he could.
When he’d turned 16, Devin and his younger brother Dylan had finally been taken from their parents and sent to live with their bitter old Aunt. Caleb had kept the same promise to himself that he would be there whenever he could to take care of Devin, and he hadn’t realized how necessary that would be. Andy had disappeared maybe a week later, with no word, just took off with his car and he’d left. Caleb had spent the next couple of years piecing Devin back together and becoming Devin’s whole world. He knew he was. He knew it in the way Devin clung to him at night when they slept beside each other, in the way Devin’s hands would flutter nervously every time Caleb would clumsily hurt himself in some way. He could see it in Devin’s eyes, and in Devin’s smile, and the way Devin was always in his personal space but never forcing him to do anything he wasn’t ready for. Caleb could see it in Devin’s every action, and it made him feel so… so whole. It made him feel so cared for, and so loved, and like he was really needed.
It was why he’d known that leaving Devin was going to absolutely wreck him. On that last day, with all of his things packed into his van, he’d promised Devin that he’d be back. He’d promised he’d come back for him, and as soon as Dylan was old enough to leave their aunts then he’d bring Devin back with him. He’d kissed him long, and hard, and then he’d started the long drive to New York City.
Those first few months without Devin had been hell for Caleb. He hadn’t slept, he’d continuously forgotten to feed himself until he was so hungry he was dizzy. Everything was focused on getting himself settled. It was all focused on getting himself established and getting a steady source form of money coming in. He needed to be able to pay his bills, he needed to be able to feed himself. Things had to be sustainable. And, of course, he needed the money to be able to go back to see Devin. He knew those trips would be just as hard as anything he’d done in the past six months, he knew they were going to tear him up each time he saw Devin’s face and got to hold it in his hands.
Of course he was right. That first time he’d gone back to visit Devin, the look on Devin’s wide eyed face had clearly shown that Devin hadn’t believed him. Devin had not believed that Caleb was going to come back, that he was going to be there for him anymore. Caleb had made an arrangement with his parents, one he’d never wanted, that he would stay with them for a long weekend every month or two so he’d be able to see Devin, and he’d have dinners with them each Sunday night before he’d leave to fly back to New York. So when he’d showed up, the first thing he’d done after the compulsory greetings with his parents, was walk to Devin’s aunt’s house and announce himself. Devin had stared with those wide eyes for several long moments before he’d literally flung himself at Caleb, his arms tight around Caleb’s waist and his face pressed into Caleb’s shoulder. This was fairly routine for the first year, the way they’d greet each other after months apart, the way they’d spend their time together. Caleb would fly into the nearest airport, his parents would pick him up, and he’d instantly make his way to Devin’s house before he did anything else.
He’d spend those long weekends with Devin, every single moment he could that Devin wasn’t working. He’d started trying to warn him ahead of time when he was coming so Devin could try and get the time off of work, so they could have every possible moment they could together. They’d spend it laid in bed, talking about New York and Caleb’s work, or talking about home and Devin’s job, or the classes Devin took at the local college, one each semester just to keep himself occupied. They’d talk about Dylan, and how he was a moody little bastard, in Devin’s words. They’d talk about Devin’s aunt and how she was hiding something, but Devin didn’t know what, but mostly they’d just lay together and hold each other. That first year, those weekends where he would come back and see Devin were what sustained Caleb in his endeavor to have his own life and make his own way in the world. He was trying to make a life for him and Devin, and there wasn’t going to be anything that stopped him. Their lives were theirs to make it, and Caleb was doing his best to give Devin that sense of a life in the times they had together, while making one for them in New York for as soon as Devin was able to come. He couldn’t wait for that day.