not such a great start

Who: Caleb and Dorian
Where: The Lockwood Residence
When: late afternoon

Caleb was crashed out on the couch. He'd actually been crashed out on the couch most of the day. He was pretty nocturnal by nature, so it wasn't really unusual for him to be sleeping late in the day. He just wasn't used to doing it here. Which had meant ever since he'd been dumped on his older brother's doorstep that he'd been groggy and cranky as he'd gotten used to the new place. Town. Whatever. It all sucked.

It was no surprise to Dorian that Caleb was on the couch. He'd been there since Dorian had left for work, at 8:30 that morning. If he'd moved since then, Dorian couldn't tell, and he glared in his general direction as he slipped off his shoes. "Have you done anything today?" It was summer, otherwise Caleb would be in school. That was the point, wasn't it? Sticking Caleb with him so he could make sure his little brother went to school and continued on with life like normal? Well, normal had stopped the second Caleb had invaded his home. Caleb was too old to need a babysitter.

Caleb frowned, and pulled the pillow over his head. "Piss off. No. I'm sleeping. Go away." came the muffled, irritated voice. Couldn't Dorian just go away? And why did he have to stay here anyways? He was almost a legal adult. Okay so he wasn't, and he didn't have any money of his own for an apartment and the parents had been too damn cheap to shell out for one for him... No, they just don't like you as much as their precious wanted children.

"This is my home, remember? I'm not going to go away," he said, heading into the kitchen. The house wasn't huge, so he continued to talk to his brother, raising his voice so that he could be heard. Raising his eyes towards Caleb, he mentally pulled the pillow into the air. "And you have a room. If you're so set on sleeping, go do it there. Or, if you want to eat, you can help me fix something." Because he sure as hell wasn't going to wait on him. If Caleb was going to continue to be a brat, he's see just how pissy Dorian could be.

Caleb glared up at the pillow as if it had mortally offended him. "Fucking showoff." he muttered. Then he sat up and ground the heel of his hand into his eye, a headache forming. "I can't sleep. The place is too new." he said, in way of gruffly said justification for why he was sleeping on the couch. He wondered if there were any serious pain meds in the house. Physical damage he could deal with no problem, but headaches were something else. When the brain hurt, badness ensued.

Dorian would have made a snarky reply back, but this was Caleb, not Mathias, and his little brother didn't have something comparable, which sucked for him. Dorian kept thinking that something would show. After all, he'd only started to move things after his sixteenth birthday. There was always a chance that it just hadn't peaked in Caleb yet. That wouldn't help now, though, so he thought better than to say so. "You didn't sleep at all last night?" he asked, raising a brow. "I have something I can give you. Somewhere. I'll need to look for it, though. Course, it might not feel so new if you'd unpack."

"I don't know why I'm here anyways." Caleb said, getting up and dragging his fingers through is already messy hair, making it more messy. But he did go to join his brother in the kitchen. "Beyond 'the parents figured getting rid of me a year early was a cool idea, and now they're finally never going to have to deal with me again'."

"They're not gone permanently and they're not trying to get rid of you," Dorian said, attempting to console his little brother. "But they weren't going to let you live alone while you finish high school. They wouldn't have let Mathias or I either." They'd have been insane to even consider it, in those cases. Caleb, on the other hand, wasn't quite the same kind of handful that he and Mathias had been.

"You keep tellin yourself that." Caleb said, looking through cabinets but not really finding anything that interested him. "By the time they're back, I'll be 18, and I'll be expected to be out of the house." he said, fully believing that was going to be the way of it. They just found the ingenious way of not having to wait the extra year.

"Does that mean you wanted to stay?" Dorian said, turning to look at him as he filled a pot with water. Spaghetti was easy, thus the dinner of choice. "I don't think they'd ever kick you out, if you wanted to, but you would be expected to do something. Go to college, or get a job, or... something." Dorian had gone the college route. Mathias had tried it before jumping ship.

Caleb dropped heavily into a kitchen chair, propping his head up on one hand. "College for what? You were the brilliant brainy one. And it's not like I could get a scholarship for sports, that was Mathias's job. I don't know what I'll do." Disappear, maybe.

"For whatever interests you," he said, turning off the sink. "It's not like my degree is useful. And Mathias' scholarships weren't worth shit, since he dropped out. You don't have to have a scholarship to go to college, and you don't have to know what you want to study in order to go there." He'd never really realized how jaded Caleb seemed to be until he started living with him again. Apparently he hadn't been paying quite enough attention on his previous trips home.

"Whatever." he muttered. "I don't know. I'll finish high school. After that, who knows. I won't be going back with them though." he added. That much was quite clear. And okay, he'd been sort of billing it as them not wanting him, but he didn't think they did. He just wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of telling him he had to go. He'd leave before they could.

Dorian turned to face his brother, pot of water in his hands. "Was it bad living with them?" he asked, trying to understand the attitude. "I didn't think you were ready to up and leave until this happened, and now you act like they were beating you and keep you in the hall closet. Seriously, Caleb. All they've done is gone abroad and it's better for you to finish in a US school. It's not the end of the world, and there are far worse people would you could be living with than me."

Caleb turned a look on his brother and for just a second there, there was clear, bright hurt there on his face. It was replaced a second later by anger, however, ever the dominant emotion in his psyche. "No it was great living there. The human shadow, who could never hear the end of just--you know what? Nevermind. I'm going out." he said, standing abruptly to leave, stopping only to grab his shoes before he was out the door.

It had definitely been too long since he'd been that age, he realized, seeing the hurt, but having no idea what might have caused it. "Don't leave," he said, trying to sooth him into staying. He was no good at this, certainly not like a parent would be. "Come on. Stay and have dinner with me. I'm cooking enough spaghetti to feed an army." Which meant they'd be having leftovers for a few days, but that was fine. "I just forget, okay? It's been a long time since I've been home."

Caleb was still pulling his shoes on, though he did stop to tie them, which he hadn't planned to do a second ago. "Yeah, well home for you isn't the same as home was for me." he said, and that was about all he was going to say on the matter, because what good would it do to get into it with Dorian? What the hell would Golden Boy Number 2 care? According to their parents, his older brothers did everything but shit gold and walk on water. Shoes tied, he stood and headed out the door. "Later." he muttered, already moving up the streed fast, head down, hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets.

Dorian put down the pot and rounded towards the door where Caleb was putting his shoes on. "Believe it or not, I had the same parents. From the way that you're acting, I can make some decent guesses." Or he thought he could, though they'd be based on Mathias and not on himself. Dorian would have given anything to be Mathias when he was younger. Eventually he'd realized what an impossibility that was... and that it was find to be himself. He still looked up to his older brother, but he knew how hard it was, living in his shadow. "Don't walk out on me," he said, anger growing. It was all he could do not to hold the door closed-- he had the feeling that would piss Caleb off even more.

Caleb didn't look back, but called back. "Or what, you'll kick me out too?" he turned, walking backwards as his angry eyes fell on his brother. "Why should you care anyways?" No one else does.

For some reason, Caleb didn't seem to realize he wasn't the only one put out by this decision. Dorian just chose not to emphasize it at the moment. Caleb would only take it the wrong way. "I'm your brother?" he said, annoyed that that had to be answered at all. "Am I not allowed to care now? I know you're not happy about it, but it's not my fault. And piss me off all you want, I'm not gonna throw you out." Beat you to a pulp maybe...

Caleb gave him a Look. "Whatever. I'm sure you were just thrilled to have my ass dumped on your doorstep. It's not like you ever gave a damn before, why start now? Just...leave me alone." He didn't really get why Dorian was even still arguing.

"You know what? Fine," he snapped, throwing up a hand as he turned his back on Caleb to head back towards the kitchen. "Whatever. Do what you want." There was no point, if Caleb wasn't going to listen to him. If he wanted to believe that Dorian didn't give a shit, then he wouldn't bother with it any longer. No point in fighting a battle that Caleb had already determined the outcome of. "You already have your mind made up."

Caleb rolled his eyes and turned back around. "I have no reason to think otherwise!" he shouted back, but it lacked punch. Basically, it was lame, and his head was a mess. Whatever. What-fucking-ever. He almost called to say not to bother waiting around for him, but he didn't. He was just going to be...out. Or something. Yeah. Whatever.