" ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ɪ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴇᴘꜱ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ᴍʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴘʟᴀʏꜱ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋꜱ ᴏɴ ᴍᴇ "
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IN WHICH caleb moore struggles to discern hatred from love while harbouring intense feelings for mike wheeler and has no idea which is which when the time comes to face h...
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〖 devil's on your shoulder, strangers in your head 〗
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THE NEXT day, Mike was packing the last of Jacob's sweaters into an old suitcase they had scrounged up from the storage room.
It had been a depressing morning, one uncannily similar to the ones leading up to what happened. The only words spoken at breakfast were quiet murmurings between Jordan and Mack as she consoled him, though Mike knew she was on edge about the decision her friend and Joyce had made.
Jacob had been pretty much nonresponsive so far, but Mike hoped that if he kept bounding around the room acting like nothing was happening and making irrelevant plans about what they would do once he got out, eventually the boy would look him in the eye.
He took the specialised Walkman and let it play loud, setting it on the dresser as he complained idly about the Freshman Year math teacher they would both have to put up with when Jacob returned to school.
He faltered as he came across a pile of clothes that had been folded and left on the dresser for the past few days, untouched.
They were the clothes Jacob had been wearing. When it happened.
He didn't know who had washed them, why they hadn't been burned.
Mike turned away like he hadn't seen them and faced Jacob with a newfound determination even though his hands shook at his sides.
"Dance with me." He said, reaching out to hold the boy's hands, voice shaking now too. Jacob looked away from him and merely shook his head, a kind of sadness in his eyes that Mike couldn't understand. "C'mon, Jay, you love this one."
"Mike." Jacob shook his head again, trying to pull his hands away, "Stop it."
"Dance with me." Mike choked on a laugh, struggling to pull the boy to his feet as a few treacherous tears slipped through his facade. But he was still smiling, still pulling at the boy's hands. "Dance with me, Jacob-"
"Stop it." Jacob pleaded, finally meeting Mike's eyes and tugging him forwards, wiping the tears from his cheeks.
"Dance with me. You love this one, Jay, just dance with me like before, and I'll say it back this time and - just dance with me, Jay."
"Hold me." He countered, winding his arms around him and hiding his face in his shirt - just like the day he came home, like when they had been rebuilding, starting over. Or trying to. "I'll let you hold me."
