Archive of Our Own

“Why do you need to learn,” he asks, brows furrowing together half in confusion and half in annoyance. You huff and stomp your foot. You’re eight and all the other kids in the neighborhood know how to ride a bike but you’re still sitting on the back of Caleb’s. 

“You can just ride with me. I’ll take you wherever you need to go,” he continues. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you try to seem serious. Like a grown up. 

Caleb just stifles a laugh as he tries not to look away but you can see the mirth sparkling in his eyes and it makes you want to reach out and smack him for being so mean to you. You want to be taken seriously and: 

“The other kids left me because they didn’t have a seat for me and I didn’t know how to take yours. Teach me, gege.”

You whine, switching up tactics and latching your arms around his in an attempt to act cute. Caleb usually always gives in if you’re cute enough and when he doesn’t react, you press your cheek to his arm, squirming against him like the child you are. 

“Please. Please. Please.” 

Caleb sighs before a soft smile spreads across his face. He reaches out, fingers ruffling your hair before agreeing. 

That had been then. 

Now, you’re thirteen and stomping back inside with scraped knees and tears tracking down your cheeks. You purse your lips to keep them from quivering and head straight for Caleb. 

He pokes his head out of the kitchen when he hears the door slam and alert him of your presence, his eyes bright. 

“Hey pipsqueak- woah, what happened to you,” he says, setting down the wooden spoon he’d been using to stir the pot of braised pork he’d been making for dinner. He can see the way your cheek is redder on one side compared to the other and immediately makes his way over to you. 

You meet him halfway there and before he can get another word out, you sock him in the arm. You barely leave a mark but Caleb hisses in surprise, rubbing the spot. 

“Hey! What was that for? What happened,” he asks. There’s concern in his gaze as he reaches out to pull a leaf out of your hair. It’s clear you’ve taken a pretty bad tumble and for some reason, it’s his fault. 

“You’ve been using your evol on me when we ride bikes haven’t you,” you ask and he freezes. You can see the guilt flash across his face before he schools it into a practiced smile. The jerk! That was confession enough! 

“You caught me,” he answers, a cheeky grin on his face. He anticipates your movements before you do, fingers wrapping around your wrist that threaten to punch him once more. His grip is tight but not bruising and you huff as you try to pull away but he doesn’t let go and so instead you try the other one. 

Caleb knows you inside and out so he stops that arm too and now, the both of you are standing in the middle of the living room. You, huffing with anger and embarrassment, and Caleb, guiltily smiling with both of your hands in his. 

“Caleb! Do you know how embarrassing it was? I fell. As soon as I got on and tried to push, I fell because you didn’t bother to teach me properly,” you argue and you see the guilty look on Caleb’s face before he pulls you into his chest. He wraps his arms around you, patting the back of your head. 

“Aw, I’m sorry pips,” he says but you can tell he’s trying not to laugh. “I just got scared every time I saw you leaning to one side so I used my evol. I didn’t think you actually couldn’t ride a bike without my help.” 

It’s a half truth, he thinks as he bites back a laugh when you begin to hit his back. It’s fine. He’ll let you get out all your anger as long as you rely on him for help. 

“It was so embarrassing, ge,” you complain before slowly you fist your fingers into his shirt. “I scraped my knees and fell on my face. It hurt a lot.” 

Caleb knows. He’d seen it all when you came in and pursing his lips together, he pulls back to examine you properly. Normally, he’d cup your face and get a good look but he doesn’t want to risk hurting you more than you already feel. 

With a soft sigh, he strokes your cheek. 

“I’m sorry pipsqueak. I really am. I’ll make it up to you and actually teach you how to ride a bike okay?” 

You look away when he pulls back, fingers still fisted in his shirt but you nod anyways. 

As long as he actually taught you. 

-

Caleb is a liar. 

He still never actually taught you how to ride a bike and now, you’re 22 and staring Caleb down as he pats the backseat of his bike with a grin. 

“Jump on, pips,” he tells you and you cross your arms, huffing as you turn your nose up. 

You think back to thirteen and scraped knees and immediately get mad at him. 

“Don’t wanna,” you argue and Caleb laughs. You’re tugged in by nothing but you’ve been around Caleb long enough now that you know he’s using his evol to pull you closer. You don’t even yelp as you’re lifted onto the seat but you do look away as you cross your legs. 

It has Caleb laughing even more. He took pleasure in watching you be an absolute brat. 

“You’re not still mad I never taught you how to ride a bike are you,” he asks and there’s that same sparkle in his eyes from all those years ago. 

After he had promised, he had made excuses. 

He was too busy to teach you. He was too tired to go outside and they could build models instead. He would just take you on the back of his to save time. 

It’d been excuse after excuse and before you knew it, Caleb had gone off to Skyhaven for college and you still hadn’t learned how to ride a bike. 

Could you have learned on your own? Yes but…but it was scary when you didn’t have Caleb around to catch you. And so you’d never learned. 

Now, that unfulfilled promise comes back to mind when Caleb suggests a bike ride along the river. 

When you huff in response, his grin widens. 

“I’ll teach you next time,” he promises and you glare at him and he loves it because at least your gaze is back on him once more. 

“You said that last time!” 

“I mean it this time,” he replies, his grin wide and full of delight. You have to look away in case you melt and agree like you always do. 

He leans over then, one arm wrapped around your waist to steady you as he presses a kiss to your temple. 

“Promise,” he whispers softly into your skin. 

You smack him away, a complaint on the tip of your tongue but you hold back and instead, your fingers curl into his shirt. 

“Just pedal,” you grumble, forcing him to face forward as you press a burning cheek to his back. Your eyes glance over the glimmering river as the last of the sun's rays sparkle across it but you’re too focused on how warm Caleb’s back feels, the sound of his laughter vibrating in his chest. 

You press closer, hold him tighter just as he had wanted, and inhale. 

Somehow, even after all these years, Caleb still smells like home.