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Casey wasn't the type to let his problems show. He let his issues bottle up, smoking to let off steam every once in awhile so he could keep his feelings from bubbling over. Which meant that when he was visibly upset by something, it was very bad. Very, very bad.
He and Gregg were sitting by the train tracks, throwing rocks at the passing trains and holding each other's bloody and bruised hands. With his free hand, he started fiddling with the string of his hoodie, flicking at its plastic covered tip. Gregg took notice of the motion, looking up at his boyfriend.
“You doing okay, dude?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine.”
“You sure? You're being all… fidgety.” Gregg let go of his hand, and Casey silently mourned the loss of his comforting touch as Gregg made crazy hand gestures to help his point.
“So? You're fidgety all the time,” he countered.
“Yeah, but that's different. Normally, you're, like, so calm people would think you're stoned if they didn't know better.”
“I guess,” he mumbled, regretting not bringing his lighter and a pack of cigarettes. “Look, I just, I.. It's fine, stop worrying about me.”
Gregg turned to him, taking hold of his right hand again. He put his other hand on Casey's cheek, forcing unusually serious eye contact.
“Casey, I am your friend, your boyfriend. I'm allowed to care about you, especially when you're obviously not fine!”
“I don't wanna talk about it,” he forced through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. Don't look at me, don't look at me, I don't want you to see this-
“That’s fine.” His hand fell away from his cheek, moving to hold Casey’s free hand. “You gotta let it out eventually, though. I'm here, remember that.”
He nodded, swallowing back the lump in his throat. He couldn't cry, not here not now, don't be a baby just suck it up and say you're fine!
“I just,”he started. “It's... Mae's off in college already, you know? She's got a future lined up, chances that the rest of us are never gonna get. And you, you're amazing and wonderful and you and Angus are so happy together and you could have a life together and I'm just scared 'coz I know you're gonna drop me eventually and go live a real life, and I'll just stay here, like trash, 'coz I'm never gonna be more than just “the Hartley kid” who's gonna die in a meth lab explosion like his cousin or jump off the bridge by the woods when he realizes that he can't just be a delinquent kid forever, and, and, I don't, I can't, I-”
He could feel Gregg squeezing one of his hands, trying to ground him. An arm wrapped around his shoulders, and soft lips pressed a warm kiss against his forehead, and despite it all, he felt kind of safe.
“Shh… babe, you know that's not true. We can have a life without having to go to college, there are jobs and houses here. Jobs and houses in Bright Harbor.”
He sobbed into Gregg's shoulder, pulling his knees up to his chest. Warm circles were rubbed into his palm, his back, and he felt a little bit better. A little bit.
“And I'm not gonna drop you for Angus just because he has a job and you don't. I love you both, the same amount, and I wouldn't ever pick just one. You're both gonna be in my life forever, okay?”
“Okay,” he mumbled into the sleeve of his hoodie. Tears were soaked into his sleeve, and in the cotton of Gregg's shirt, and the bitter autumn air whipped at his face, stinging the still-drying tear tracks. But they didn't care, it was okay.
They would be okay.