justprompts: Same
Caleb's head thudded back against the leather of the seat of his Mustang. He'd still not touched the soda he'd packed when he started; didn't feel like it. Possibly yet, although he wasn't sure. It was energy, yes, but it was also a stimulant, and right now, he wasn't sure if it wouldn't push him over the edge.
He could be back in Ipswich much, much faster than driving, after all. And much safer than driving in the coming darkness, never mind that in an hour or so he'd be back on roads that he could drive while asleep, it'd still be safer. Right then. Never mind earlier evenings or anything. Just there. Just hold his boyfriend close again and never mind anything else. He could pick up the car on his way back or something.
Get a grip on yourself, Caleb. He had to, after all.
It was just painfully difficult, had been, being for the first time in his life away from anyone who knew about his Power.
Anyone who knew about his Power.
The temptation... on a daily basis was, occasionally, staggering. And that was even aside from the way he'd been since his eighteenth birthday, which was already bad.
And worse than ever, now that Pogue wasn't there to talk him or wrestle him or hug-and-kiss him or even sex him away from it. Well, talk... often could happen, that was only a phonecall away. The rest was... not there.
What had he been thinking, going away for grad school? Not like he needed the degree for a job. He could do the fucking research without the extra studying. Not like there was any pressure to that effect from his parents. Or even anyone else's parents.
... it was bad. Maybe it was bad because he was going home and things were resurfacing that most of the time he managed to keep in control; maybe it was just a bad day; maybe it was the fact that he could not be wasting all the time away and...
"All done."
"Thanks, man." Tank topped. Paying for it. Simple things, touching the dashboard, the wheel. Hitting the gas pedal as soon as he was out of the station.
He wasn't going to give in to it now. Not this close, hell, if he could help it - and he was doing his best - not ever.
Because he was coming home to his boyfriend, his best friend, and he didn't want to change away from how they were. Distance and time away notwithstanding. He wasn't going to disappoint him, let him down. Even when Pogue wasn't there physically to help him out, Caleb knew, knew, that he wanted him well, wanted him the way he'd always been. And he knew that his boyfriend was fighting almost the same battle, just a bit scaled down. The one their fathers fought and Caleb's father lost, and they'd grown up with that devastation.
And he wouldn't do that to them.
He wouldn't crash his car, either.
Just get home. It'd be better, there.
***
Pogue wasn't home. Well, okay, he could call him, but it wasn't that difficult to find out he was still at the garage (yes, and even if he'd asked for Caleb to call him, that would mean waiting for him to get back, and he couldn't do that, not right now) so Caleb drove there, too. Fast, the slippery roads from here to there weren't a problem for him, not here, not this night, not in this car.
Just get there. His world had kind of narrowed down to that, only that. It had been physical for days; painful for hours, now it was close to over.
When he got to the garage, there was a lone figure cleaning up in front, in the light spilling out through the doors. He'd met her; she was an unusual employee for a mechanics' establishment, but through the summer her work had been satisfactory and she'd hung around with them at Nicky's and such. He called out quietly to her even as he was parking.
"Hey, don't you get in trouble for overtime? Underage labor and all that."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Not overtime. Second shift, classes in the morning..."
"I heard your boss is still here?"
"You heard right." She was already starting inside, to call him over, he presumed. He was out of the car and kind of moving after her, closer to the entrance, so he heard the exchange. "Pogue. Someone's here for you, and he doesn't have a bike. Yet."
"Hmm? What are you..." Just the sound made Caleb's heart speed up, his lips stretch in a smile.
"Just go, I'll finish this."
"... talking about?"
And then he was outside, and Caleb gave them time to see that his hair was pulled back in a ponytail or something like it, there was a smudge on his left cheek, and then his arms were around Pogue, tight and warm and he felt, against his lips, rather than saw, the so-familiar smile that lit things up before he was returning the kiss.
"Thought you were going to call."
"Maybe I will, next time." More kissing. "Possibly. I don't know." Kissing, holding him close, only shifting to tug his hair free and bury his fingers into it. "Missed you too much..."
"Missed you, too."
And there were more words, and they mattered and didn't matter, because Pogue was there, and he was the same, exactly the same as he should be, and the world was easier once again, the pulls and wants all melded into one, right here, and right now, and always.
He could be back in Ipswich much, much faster than driving, after all. And much safer than driving in the coming darkness, never mind that in an hour or so he'd be back on roads that he could drive while asleep, it'd still be safer. Right then. Never mind earlier evenings or anything. Just there. Just hold his boyfriend close again and never mind anything else. He could pick up the car on his way back or something.
Get a grip on yourself, Caleb. He had to, after all.
It was just painfully difficult, had been, being for the first time in his life away from anyone who knew about his Power.
Anyone who knew about his Power.
The temptation... on a daily basis was, occasionally, staggering. And that was even aside from the way he'd been since his eighteenth birthday, which was already bad.
And worse than ever, now that Pogue wasn't there to talk him or wrestle him or hug-and-kiss him or even sex him away from it. Well, talk... often could happen, that was only a phonecall away. The rest was... not there.
What had he been thinking, going away for grad school? Not like he needed the degree for a job. He could do the fucking research without the extra studying. Not like there was any pressure to that effect from his parents. Or even anyone else's parents.
... it was bad. Maybe it was bad because he was going home and things were resurfacing that most of the time he managed to keep in control; maybe it was just a bad day; maybe it was the fact that he could not be wasting all the time away and...
"All done."
"Thanks, man." Tank topped. Paying for it. Simple things, touching the dashboard, the wheel. Hitting the gas pedal as soon as he was out of the station.
He wasn't going to give in to it now. Not this close, hell, if he could help it - and he was doing his best - not ever.
Because he was coming home to his boyfriend, his best friend, and he didn't want to change away from how they were. Distance and time away notwithstanding. He wasn't going to disappoint him, let him down. Even when Pogue wasn't there physically to help him out, Caleb knew, knew, that he wanted him well, wanted him the way he'd always been. And he knew that his boyfriend was fighting almost the same battle, just a bit scaled down. The one their fathers fought and Caleb's father lost, and they'd grown up with that devastation.
And he wouldn't do that to them.
He wouldn't crash his car, either.
Just get home. It'd be better, there.
***
Pogue wasn't home. Well, okay, he could call him, but it wasn't that difficult to find out he was still at the garage (yes, and even if he'd asked for Caleb to call him, that would mean waiting for him to get back, and he couldn't do that, not right now) so Caleb drove there, too. Fast, the slippery roads from here to there weren't a problem for him, not here, not this night, not in this car.
Just get there. His world had kind of narrowed down to that, only that. It had been physical for days; painful for hours, now it was close to over.
When he got to the garage, there was a lone figure cleaning up in front, in the light spilling out through the doors. He'd met her; she was an unusual employee for a mechanics' establishment, but through the summer her work had been satisfactory and she'd hung around with them at Nicky's and such. He called out quietly to her even as he was parking.
"Hey, don't you get in trouble for overtime? Underage labor and all that."
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Not overtime. Second shift, classes in the morning..."
"I heard your boss is still here?"
"You heard right." She was already starting inside, to call him over, he presumed. He was out of the car and kind of moving after her, closer to the entrance, so he heard the exchange. "Pogue. Someone's here for you, and he doesn't have a bike. Yet."
"Hmm? What are you..." Just the sound made Caleb's heart speed up, his lips stretch in a smile.
"Just go, I'll finish this."
"... talking about?"
And then he was outside, and Caleb gave them time to see that his hair was pulled back in a ponytail or something like it, there was a smudge on his left cheek, and then his arms were around Pogue, tight and warm and he felt, against his lips, rather than saw, the so-familiar smile that lit things up before he was returning the kiss.
"Thought you were going to call."
"Maybe I will, next time." More kissing. "Possibly. I don't know." Kissing, holding him close, only shifting to tug his hair free and bury his fingers into it. "Missed you too much..."
"Missed you, too."
And there were more words, and they mattered and didn't matter, because Pogue was there, and he was the same, exactly the same as he should be, and the world was easier once again, the pulls and wants all melded into one, right here, and right now, and always.