chapter thirty-three:
When Caelum woke up, he didn't quite understand what was going on. His head felt fuzzy and his back was sore. He inhaled sharply, turning on his other side. He began to drift off again, when he felt a steady, warm breeze against his face. He murmured, raising a hand to block it absentmindedly.
He heard a snore and some mumbling, “Leave m’lone. . . Tired. . .”
Caelum froze, then he shot straight up, backing up as far and as fast as he could. His mind immediately went to Principal Davis, and the days he spent sleeping with him. The torture of the night and the soreness in the morning.
He hit the wall with a small thump, and a book teetered dangerously on the table beside him, ready to fall down. The mass on the bed moved, Caelum closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. He shouldn't have moved, he was going to kill him now. He should've stayed where he was.
He pulled at his hair, body trembling and he couldn't help the small noises of fear that escaped his lips. His heart was pounding so hard that he felt like it would have shot right out of his chest. His eyes began to water, as he heard the bed creak softly, it's weight shifting.
“Mmm. . . 'ey, Cael?” Someone placed a gentle hand on his knee. Caelum looked up slowly, and recognized Peter. “You okay? Did you have a nightmare?” Caelum didn't know how to respond. Peter draped his arms around his neck, and rubbed the back of his head.
Caelum sat frozen for a moment, listening to the boy, his body, his breath, his heartbeat against his own. Caelum arms moved around him slowly, as the memories from last night resurfaced and made itself clear in his mind.
They had kissed. They made out. Peter loved him, and he said it. He knew it. “Cael? You okay?”
“Mm. . . yeah, I, uh. . .” he rubbed the tears out of his eyes. “I. . . I, uhm, panicked.”
“Why? What happened?”
“I thought. . .” He sniffed, and looked away. Peter pulled back, and Caelum suddenly missed the familiar heat of his body on his own. “I woke up and I just. . . I panicked. I thought I was with Principal Davis again, and I. . . uh. . .” He rubbed the back of his neck, which tingled when he looked at Peter. “I apologize for waking you up, and making a lot of noise. I should have thought better of it. It was inconsiderate of me, especially since I―”
Peter moved forward, and kissed him — full on the lips. Caelum stopped talking immediately. He leaned in and returned it, wrapping his arms around his waist, wanting Peter closer ― never wanting to let go of him.
They broke the kiss a few minutes later in order to breathe. Caelum was laughing quietly, and Peter stood holding out a hand to him. “What's so funny?” Peter asked, helping the boy up.
“Nothing,” Caelum smiled sheepishly. “I was just thinking.”
“What were you thinking about?” Peter grinned the sunny grin that made Caelum's eyes light up and everything around him brighter.
“You,” he admitted. He remembered a time when Peter asked a similar question, and Caelum responded the same way ― well, he did and then lied immediately.
“About me?” Peter turned and went to his closet, shuffling around a bit. “What about me?”
“I was thinking,” Caelum moved forward, leaning on his back. “About your smile.”
Peter laughed, and stood up, handing a bundle of clothes to Caelum to get changed into. “My smile?” He repeated and Caelum grinned wide.
“Yes! You have the best smile I have ever seen,” Peter stared at him, his cheeks tinting red in a blush. Caelum chuckled, amused by his reddened face. “Your smile can light up a room, you know that? I've always wanted to tell you. I love seeing you smile.”
“Thanks,” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and smiled. Caelum kissed him, on the cheek, where the smile wrinkled slightly. Peter chuckled and Caelum took the clothes he held from him.
“Can I use your shower?” Caelum asked and Peter wave a hand.
“Be my guest. You stink.” Caelum hit his arm and Peter laughed loudly. He glanced down at the worn tee-shirt and jeans. The glanced back at the closet, where Peter was picking up a familiar set of clothes.
A Midtown high school uniform. The yellow blazer and beige slacks, complete with the wrinkled, white buttoned shirt.
Go back to school.
Caelum dropped the clothes and walked towards the door, taking the uniform from him before he could hang it back up. “After we eat, we can―hey!” Peter cut himself off, grabbing his arm. “Where are you going? You dropped your clothes.”
“I have to go,” his voice was desperate and something. . . other. Tears burned his eyes, he had to go to school. He had to go to school. “I have to go. I have to go!”
“Go where?” Caelum yanked his arm away and headed for the door again. Something hit him in the back and suddenly he was yanked to the ground.
Caelum struggled to get back up, but Peter kept him down, sitting on his chest and holding his arms away from him. “Now, do you want to explain where you’re―?”
Caelum blinked, and was in Peter's body again. The loud noise, the incessant buzzing in his ears, the blinding lights ― all of it.
He hissed, but stood and went back to his own body. He scrambled up as soon as he could and went for the door again.
Peter, who was a lot more disoriented, realized what was going on and lunged at him. They both fell against the door, Caelum putting his hands out to stop himself. As soon as they touched the door, Peter webbed them in place, leaving him hanging there, his arms above his head, and panting. “Did you―?” Peter breathed, trying to calm himself down. “Did you just possess me?”
“I have to go!” He snapped, his limbs shaking and scared.
“You have to go where, Cael?” Peter demanded, setting his web-shooters down. He must've grabbed them off his desk. “What's wrong with you?”
“I have to go to school,” He breathed. He didn't want to go to school. He wanted to stay here. He wanted to stay with Peter. “I have to go to school.”
“Why? What's at school?”
“Let me out of here! I have to—I have to—!” He breathed for a minute, leaning against the door weakly. Peter just stared at him, shocked and confused.
“Is there someone at school? Will Principal Davis be there?” A sudden jolt went through him, remembering his office, sleeping with him, waking up the next morning, bloody and sore and disgusting.
He closed his eyes. God, he didn't want to think of that. “I have to go to school.”
“Is someone forcing you to do this?” Peter came to his side, not taking the sticky webbing off or looking at him. He stared at the ground but continued to talk. “Did someone tell you to go? Are you meeting someone?”
“I have to go.”
“Can you nod your head yes, or shake it no?”
He could do this, he nodded, “I have to go to school.”
Peter noticed. “Okay! Is someone forcing you to go to school?”
Caelum nodded, “I have to go to school.”
“Is it someone I know?” He shook his head.
“Let me go! I have to go to school.”
“Is it. . . is it someone like us?” He nodded fiercely.
“Parker, let me go! I have to go now!” His eyes were pleading him to help. He didn't want to leave Peter at all. He didn't want to to go away from him after they has just gotten so close.
Peter thought for a long minute, then it clicked and his jaw dropped. “The mind control guy! Loki — no, not Loki. Someone different, probably like Loki! He's doing this!?” He nodded, nearly sagging with relief. “So, he told you to go to school, and you have to go, right?” Caelum nodded. “Well, did he tell you to stay there, or to go to school?”
Caelum frowned, thinking for a minute, “I. . . I have to go to school.”
“Okay,” he nodded, “Okay. Then, we'll just go to school, and then leave. That way, you would have gone to school, right?” Peter frowned for a minute, “Did he specify which school?”
Caelum shook his head and Peter grinned. “There's a Catholic school a few block down ― we can go there, then come back!” Caelum laughed and Peter began to pry his hands off the door, his fingers grasped it easily and didn't seem to stick like Caelum's. He easily got it off and wiped his hand so his shorts. “Alright. Go take a shower, then we can go to the school, and then we can visit your brothers in the hospital. How's that?” Caelum nodded, he liked that.
“Cool! May's already at work, we should be fine — come on.” He opened the door and led them out. Caelum followed and Peter grabbed a folded towel off the couch, tossing it to him. “Here's a towel, there's extra wash clothes in the bathroom. I'll make breakfast ― do you eat eggs?”
“Boiled eggs,” Caelum replied, and Peter nodded.
Caelum went to shower as Peter cooked. It was brief and refreshingly cold. Caelum didn't want to use all the hot water ― he never took hot showers because of that. He remembered the cold showers and baths of his childhood, and the struggles that seemed so minor to the younger version of him. The version where he was still innocent, and the ghost still living and well.
He pushed the memory away and stepped out of the shower, dabbing himself dry and dressing in Peter's clothes. He waited for a moment recognizing a bottle of Shea butter lotion on the countertop.
He eyes it suspiciously, tempting, but ultimately decided against it. Was that weird? Was that crossing a line? Peter probably used that every day, Caelum always smelt it on him, and what would he use it for? The thought tempted him, what else would a teenage boy use a bottle of lotion for?
But not Peter's, he chided himself. He was already imposing on their house, he needed to leave something sacred.
He rolled his eyes and finished getting dressed, stepping out of the bathroom. He was wearing jeans and a black tee-shirt with some kind of emblem on it. Peter was in the kitchen, whipping himself up some eggs. Caelum noticed a pot of water boiling on the eye beside him. “Be careful,” he warned, and Peter glanced over his shoulder.
He stuck his tongue out childishly. “I know how to cook eggs!” Peter said, and Caelum smiled, moving to sit down.
“Just a warning,” he raised his hands in defense and Peter smiled. He finished cooking his eggs and slipped them on a plate. They were full of cheese and bits of meat, but Caelum saw a few pieces of greens in it too.
Caelum smirked as Peter started eating, gouging down on breakfast while Caelum waited for the boiled eggs to be done. “Hey!” Peter said, his mouth still a bit full. Caelum rolled his eyes and pushed his face to the side so nothing inside of it tried to escape and seek refuge in him.
“Chew and swallow,” he scolded, and Peter laughed.
He finished eating and prompted him again. “You didn't tell me you spoke French.” Caelum rose his eyebrow.
“How do you know I speak French?” He asked curiously. He couldn't remember this coming up in a recent conversation of theirs.
“At your mom's funeral. You spoke French when you went up to talk,” Peter explained. “I thought you took Russian.”
Oh. He forgot about that. “Yes, I did,” he confirmed. “My mother taught me her native tongue when I was little. So, technically, I'm bilingual.”
Peter rose an eyebrow, “You didn't tell me that!”
“You never asked.”
“Say something in French!”
“Really?” Caelum frowned.
“Yeah!”
“You know that the most overused line―!”
“Just do it!”
Caelum shook his head, “Chose importante (say something),” he said blandly.
“I don't know what that meant, but I think you just said something in French and that's not what I meant and you know it.” Caelum couldn't help this. He laughed, grabbing his midsection as his eyes watered with tears. Peter was pouting, which made Caelum laugh even harder.
When he finally got himself under control, he grinned, “Okay, okay.” He glanced away and began to speak in French. “Vous êtes un garçon stupide. Je regrette de tomber amoureux de toi. Et pourtant, chaque moment que je passe avec toi fait courir mon cœur un peu vite. Chaque respiration que je partage avec toi me fait vivre un peu plus longtemps, (You are a silly boy. I regret falling in love with you. And yet, every moment I spend with you makes my heart race a little fast. Every breath I share with you makes me live a little longer,)” he took deep breath and laughed a little. “Jee hais, et je te détesterai toujours de m'avoir fait ressentir cela, de me rendre émotif. Et pourtant, il n'y a aucun moyen que je puisse vous rembourser pour m'avoir donné un coeur. (I hate you, and I will always hate you for making me feel this way, making me emotional. And yet, there is no way I can repay you for giving me a heart.)”
Peter stared at him and Caelum smiled up at him, “What did that mean?” He asked, and Caelum laughed.
“Like hell I'm telling you,” he said and Peter frowned angrily at him.
“Cael!” He whined and Caelum laughed.
“Nope, sorry. You'll just have to take French in order to understand.”
“But–But I didn't record it!”
“Not my fault. The world may never know.”
“Did you just insult me in French?” Peter demanded. “For a whole minute?”
“Not saying.”
“Maybe, you confessed your love to me,” he grinned. “'Peter, you are the most handsome boy I have ever seen’!” He said in a high, tinny voice that Caelum refused to believe that it was supposed to be a bad impression of him. “Oh Peter, my Peter, take me into your strong arms and bring me far away from here’!”
“Shut up!” Caelum said, but was blushing too hard to make it sound serious.
“'Kiss me, Peter! Be my knight in shining armour! Let me show up to your doorstep bloody and dying so that you can heroically save me’!” He made kissing noises and Caelum was tempted to throw the salt shaker at him. Instead, he threw a spoon.
Peter caught it and set it down, Caelum crossed his arms looking away while they continued to bicker playfully. Meanwhile, the eggs on the stove boiled over, but neither boy minded.
Finally, they finished and Caelum grabbed his eggs, leaving it in a cup of cold water for five minutes before peeling and eating them. Caelum forced Peter to shower ― he smelt just as bad as he had after all. Then they both went to go down to the Catholic children's school a few blocks down.
Peter was happy, in the bright sun and crisp airs. He laughed and joked and Caelum smiled along with him. At some point, he took Caelum's hand. At first, he jolted surprised, but then he eased himself into it. He liked this familiarity. He liked Peter being beside him, being with him. He liked him, he liked Peter.
Caelum waved to a few of his neighbours as they passed, a few he recognized as his father's friends, some he saw at his mother's funeral. They nodded and a few rose curious eyebrows are him, but didn't say anything.
When they made it to the school, Peter made a grand show of directing him through the doorway. “Here we are!” He grinned and Caelum nudged his arm, shaking his head. He stepped foot in the doorway, and immediately felt a stress lift off his shoulders. “Better?” He asked and Caelum nodded.
“Yes,” he grinned. “Thanks, a lot Peter. You should, uh, probably head to school now.” Peter gave him that stubborn frown and Caelum knew the boy would not listen.
“Come on,” he lead the way, taking his hand. “We're going to go to the hospital to visit your brothers, alright?”
“If you insist,” Caelum said, rubbing his neck.
“I do 'insist’. Actually―”
Caelum froze, his eyebrows furrowed, thinking about something May had said the night before.
“. . . A man came to the Cafe earlier, about your inheritance from your mother. They said it would be going into a trust account.”
He remembered his father's warning, his father's demand. “No, we can't,” Caelum said and Peter turned to look at him.
“What do you mean we can't?”
“Sarah and Dorri's, we have to go the the–their–the Café, their house, first,” Caelum sounded a bit frantic, but he knew he was in his own mind, he knew this was going his own decision. “I'm not being mind controlled, don't worry. I just—we need to go there first, okay?”
“Well. . . we have the whole day ahead of us, so no need to rush.” Peter reasoned, taking his hand again. “Let's go.”
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What is this?? Two fluffy chapters in a row!? Also, I'm sorry this is coming out later than usual, I was binging American Vandal --- which is a shit excuse, but that show is amazing lol. I wanted to ask if any of you guys reading this story, would be willing to take a survey? I wanna know what kind of stories you guys like, and I figured the best way to do that is statistics.
If you're willing to answer a few questions for me, then just comment --- or review, whatever --- your answers. If you're not, it's cool, the updates will still be rolling!
I also wanted to say thank you guys. You guys are literally amazing. I just passed my four year anniversary of me beginning to write a few weeks ago and, just. . . the development that I've seen from you guys, from my writing, it's. . . it's a lot. And of course, you guys are pretty much 75 percent of it. So, thank you. Thank you for reading, voting, reviewing, commenting, listing, favouriting, kudoing, stalking, whatever. Just thank you so much.
I've come a long way, but this train of angst (traingst?) isn't going to stop anytime soon, I can 110 percent assure you.
Okay, enough fluff, both from me and this chapter. We've got seven chapters left until the big finale, and you guys haven't cried enough.
Oh, you're so going to hate me :). I'll see y'all next time. And remember. . .
Don't melt~!
- Happyritas <OOO