( sad caleb content has given me a mood 🥺😭 all the biggest “take care of him!!!” alarms going tf off. )
Ragged boy with hands too cracked and clothed rumpled, overworn, scars and bites peaking out from the collar of his neck? Getting yelled at by a couple, seemingly only saying things that keep incensing them towards chaos, til the guy finally punches him right in the nose and leaves him stumbling with a dazed smile?
Well, no one’s ever accused you of being well-adjusted. The way he wipes his blood on the edge of his sleeve that already has mysterious stains on it makes you pause. The blood dripping down his nose does something funny to your gut. Pathetic and easily bruised and a jarring sight to see surrounded by people who don’t know what it’s like to love blood smeared on skin.
You could just walk by and let this simple curiosity be nothing but a thought. But he coughs, throat scratched up and wheezing - he’s revolting. He’s lovely. Throw caution to the wind and edge closer to him til he notices you and cracks a joke about your ass or your lips. Smile pleasantly while you dig out a handful of napkins and reach out for him- is it okay? - you ask and he immediately says yes, like there’s no other answer at all. Clean up the blood and fluids around his nose and mouth gently, careful to avoid any flinching. (Honestly, you’d kiss him as is, blood and bruised face and spit and all. Boys like him kiss the sweetest at the end of the day.) Go into the convenience store nearby and buy him some ointment, some disinfectant, and sit him down on a bench while you patch him up. It’s what anyone would do, you say, but your intentions are hardly noble when all you want is to touch his cracked skin a little more.
Finish up and give into the desire to touch his hair and call him a good boy, he did so well. Underneath all that mess, his eyes are pretty. Take a gamble, ignore the need to take him home, and wait. Pretend you don’t feel exhilaration when you notice a familiar face in the crowd. (You want to tug him into an alley and shove his face between your legs. You want to sit him down in a bus filled with people and ride him, right in the middle of all those people, while he grips your shirt and whimpers. You want to see if he’d sit obediently and let you brush his hair til all the knots are out. He’d look so sweet curled up in your silk sheets, warming your bed.)
But you can play the long game. You’ve learned the hard way that if you try and hold onto someone the way you want to, they’ll drown under the weight of it all.
… you may or may have not presumptuously already bought a collar. Fuck.
ANONNN i love your mind <33333 creep x creep romance with caleb is the way to go. im just LKAJSFLKJSDFLKJSDF THIS IS GOOD.... VERY....
Caleb looks as dazed as he did after he was punched when you finish cleaning up his face. It takes a lot to resist grabbing your hand and pushing it against his face again. He's not used to touch without pain. (And he likes it that way, but it makes anything else stand out all the more.) Doesn't know how to return your pleasant smile with a nice one of his own, he always smiles too wide, with the slightest hint of teeth. The cracks in his dry lips widen. Nothing about him is approachable. (hunched over, panting like a dog, voice scratchy when he 'hits on' you, face and neck blotched red, licking the blood from his upper lip.) But you did anyway. This sparks a bit of interest inside him, more than the typical stranger.
So he follows you like a loyal dog, just half a step behind your pace. Never right next to you. Loiters outside the store while he waits for you to return instead of going inside. He's happy to be patched up in public. Caleb shuffles as close to you as he can, and you already have to be pretty close to each other so you can help. There's no way you aren't smelling his sweat. He shivers as you rub his skin, turning flush underneath your touch. When you disinfect the wounds, he moans at the sting it gives. At least he has the decency to apologise for that, albeit with a breathy chuckle and more of his 'smiling'. Caleb fully believes he's the only one with less than savoury intentions here. He's always blind to the perversion in others.
Even as you touch his hair (that might stick to your hand with how greasy it is) and call him a good boy, he assumes you to just be some sweet stranger. He shudders and breathes hard at how pleasant it is, and, for once, tries to act subtle not to draw attention to how obviously hard he is. Snatches your wrist when you turn to leave and stutters out a request for your name, but nothing more. His hand is so slick.
Of course he starts hanging out at the same spot, hoping to see you again. In a way, he plays the long game too. Caleb follows and waits and sees the places you frequent, to make it more likely to run into you. All for just a glimpse, a reminder of your touch. But he's too nervous to approach <3 He'd rather have the memory of how nice you were, than have a second encounter go terribly.
