Chapter Text
Charles takes the long way home, head down and hands buried in his pockets. For once, his too-loud mind is focused on a single question:
Am I in love with Edwin?
The part of him that’s been following Edwin around for thirty five years shouts, Yes, of course. Except, he’s not totally sure he can trust that part of him. That part of him would do anything for Edwin, up to and including, apparently, matching Edwin’s confession with his own. If he does this, he has to do this for himself, not just for Edwin.
The part of him that sounds like his father says, Of course not, I’m not gay. But he definitely can’t trust that part of him. He’s done his best to unlearn everything that piece of shit tanned into his hide. He can unlearn this too, if he needs.
The way Edwin explained it, the few times they’ve talked about his sexuality, it was something he always knew, but hid. Dug it deep down where it couldn’t be looked at, but people still saw. Their time in Port Townsend had unearthed that part, made him look at it. And Edwin being Edwin, once he acknowledged it, he had to be honest about it.
Charles has never felt like that. He’s always liked girls—a bit too much, maybe. Going to an all-boys school, girls were exciting, foreign almost. He flirted with them because that’s how boys talked to girls. He dated a couple because that's how boys spent time with girls.
He flirted with Crystal because she was their age and could see them. Crystal is stunning, of course, but knowing what he knows now, he’s not so sure what he felt was attraction. Maybe more like…novelty. Safety. He kissed her when he’d felt at his lowest, and he’s a big enough man to admit he’d probably done it as a distraction. Because he wanted to be held. Because she needed to be held, and Charles would do anything for his friends.
He won’t do that to Edwin.
Hell, he shouldn’t have done it to Crystal. They’re far better as friends, anyway, than as—whatever they were. It’s easier to talk with her about certain things because she hasn’t known him as long. She saw through the mask he’d been perfecting since his dad first hit him, she saw all the parts he tried so desperately to hide from Edwin, convinced they’d make Edwin realise he was a terrible person and leave. It was safer to admit those weaknesses to Crystal, because he wouldn’t be destroyed if he had to be without her.
It was also easier to pretend, with her, that not being able to feel anything was fine.
Because now that he thinks about it, it was really painful to touch Edwin but not really touch him. Interacting with the world at arm’s reach is hard, but his best friend? That hurt more than anything.
The thing is, he doesn’t feel any differently about Edwin now that he can touch him. Not really. He just doesn’t hold back anymore. It’s like he said to Crystal about his girlfriend from when he was alive, he finally has the opportunity to express all he’s feeling.
Except. Well. Even in his own head, Charles can tell there’s something up with comparing Edwin to his ex. (Two, if you count Crystal.)
He collapses onto a bench. He’s not tired from walking, of course, but he needs to focus.
Closing his eyes, he pictures Edwin. Easy. He’s been staring at his face for decades. Sparkling grey-green eyes, razor sharp parting in black-brown hair, heavy eyebrows quirked in amusement or judgement or both. Classically handsome face, mannerisms that belong in first class on the Titanic, wickedly smart with a sharp tongue to match.
The fact that he can so easily wax poetic about his best mate’s features is not lost on him in this particular thought experiment. But that’s not enough confirmation.
Deliberately, Charles imagines what it would be like to touch the mole on his chin, to feel the stubble scrape against the pad of his thumb as he leans in to kiss him. What his lips would feel like, his tongue, his chest and back and arms if Charles could actually take time to explore—
Oh.
He wants that. He wants that a lot.
It’s actually possible he’s wanted that for decades.
He’s an idiot .
(The voice in his head that sounds like a combination of Crystal and Niko tells him that no, he’s just had a lot of shit to work through and it’s not his fault, but now that he’s figured it out he shouldn’t waste time berating himself when he could be snogging Edwin senseless.)
He springs to his feet and sprints back to the office.
The Night Nurse is gone by the time he gets back (it had taken some doing, but they’d managed to convince her that humans, living or dead, couldn’t work 24/7). Edwin and Niko are curled up on the couch watching an anime. Charles almost leaves them to it, but Niko just smiles brightly and waves him over.
He has half a thought to be self conscious of the way he tucks into Edwin’s side, then pointedly ignores it. There’s no point in censoring himself. Everyone seems to have figured him out, so he can just let himself be happy. He doesn’t even bother trying to watch, he just buries his smile into Edwin’s arm.
When the show—movie? Charles really hadn’t been paying attention—is over, Niko makes a show of yawning widely as she closes the laptop. “I’m going to head home.”
“Are you sure?” Edwin protests. “It’s unlike you to want to stop so close to the end of the season.”
Niko, of course, sees through him in a second. “You can keep watching, I don’t mind. I have seen it before.”
“That’s not—all right, fine, I’m intrigued to see which of them wins the competition. But I’d prefer to watch it with you.”
After pulling on her coat, she kisses Edwin on top of the head. “We’ll finish tomorrow. Have a good night, guys!” Then, with a wink to Charles, she’s gone.
“Sorry I interrupted you,” Charles says once they’re alone. He doesn’t bother sitting up—they can have this conversation while snuggling, as far as he’s concerned.
“Don’t be silly, Charles. Watching television is hardly a two person-only activity.”
“Yeah, but I know your time with Niko is special.”
“So is my time with you,” Edwin says easily, making Charles’s dead heart constrict. Now that he knows what it means, he can see why everyone is so frustrated with him.
“Not sick of me yet?”
Edwin’s hand comes to rest on top of his own. “I can say with assurance that I will never be sick of you, Charles Rowland.”
Charles doesn’t even have the urge to deflect this time. “Likewise, Edwin Payne.” He pushes himself up a bit so he can see Edwin’s face more clearly. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“What did you mean, earlier? When you said you wouldn’t put up with—well, this—” he gestures between the two of them— “from anyone else?”
Edwin frowns. “I should have thought that was obvious.”
“Explain like it isn’t.”
He sighs, like he always does when forced to talk about feelings. “You of all people know that I am not overly fond of physical expressions of affection. But with you, it’s different.”
“You’re not just saying that because I like touching you, right?” Charles has to ask, though he’s pretty sure of the answer.
“Charles,” Edwin says with a fond roll of his eyes, “I’m not doing this solely for your benefit. I enjoy being close to you. I always have, but now it’s…”
“More.”
“Yes, exactly.” Edwin gives him an easy smile.
Charles takes a deep breath. It has to be now, in this moment handed to him on a silver platter. If Edwin could do this running out of Hell without knowing if his feelings were returned, Charles can definitely do this in the comfort of their office with the certainty Edwin loves him back.
“I love you, Edwin,” he says softly, simply. “Like, properly in love with you.” Edwin opens his mouth to respond, or something, but Charles interrupts him. “Just—give me a second, yeah? Let me get this out, then you can cross examine me.”
Edwin nods, something delicate in his face. Charles prays he won’t be the one to shatter it.
He turns sideways on the couch so he’s facing Edwin more fully. Takes both of his hands. Breathes in again.
“I know what you’re thinking, and this isn’t because you’re the only person I can touch. I mean, that’s what helped me realise—well, that and Crystal kind of beating me over the head with it. I don’t—” He stops, trying to find the words.
Edwin’s eyes are shining, but his voice is steady when he says, “Take your time, Charles. I’m not going anywhere.”
The fact that Edwin is the one trying to comfort him in this situation gives him the strength to keep plundering on. “What I feel for you is bigger than I’ve ever felt for any other person. Always has been. I think that’s part of why it’s been so hard to figure out, after you told me you loved me. I didn’t feel any different about you then, and I don’t feel any different about you now, but that’s not because I don’t love you. It’s because I thought this was what friendship feels like.
“But then I got some other friends, and it feels different with them. I managed to convince myself that you were on another level because we’d been together so long. But that’s not quite it either. What I feel for Crystal and Niko is big too, but it’s not the same as what I feel for you. I don’t want to be with them all the time, and when we’re apart it doesn’t feel like I’m walking around without my left hand. And I definitely don’t want to kiss them.”
“You did kiss Crystal,” Edwin argues, because of course he does, but his voice cracks a little bit.
“Yeah, but that was months ago, innit? You’re usually quicker on the uptake, Eds.” He strokes his thumb across the smooth skin of Edwin’s knuckles, knuckles that have never split around a punch. Knuckles that Charles will fight tooth and nail to keep that way. “There’s only one person I want to spend my entire afterlife with. There’s only one person I’d give up my afterlife for. There’s only one person I’d go to Hell for, only one person I’d dig up my own grave for so he can have somewhere to rest.”
Edwin looks on the verge of tears, and Charles really hopes that’s a good thing.
“Charles, I—are you sure?” Edwin chokes out.
“What part of that bloody speech makes it sound like I’m not sure?” Charles asks with a lopsided grin. “D’you know, it took about fifteen minutes for me to realise, once I’d actually gotten my head out of my arse. I’ve never been more sure about anything, not even running from Death with you.”
Edwin lurches forward and smashes their mouths together, like he can’t wait a single second more. Charles knows the feeling.
It’s too fast, too hard, too much pressure and not enough give, but it’s still the best kiss of his life. It gets even better when Charles slows it down with a hand on Edwin’s jaw, opening his mouth with his tongue and lightly nipping his lip, swallowing the sound he makes in response.
Though he’d very much like to keep going forever, Charles forcibly pulls himself back after a few seconds. Edwin chases his mouth for a second before opening his eyes. He looks about as dazed as Charles feels, mouth red, eyes glassy.
“Was that okay?” Charles asks.
“I thought we were past the portion of the night where we asked stupid questions.”
“Oi! I’m trying to be—I dunno, courteous? I know this is new for you.”
Edwin’s voice is surprisingly tender when he says, “It’s also new for you, albeit in a different way. I may not have much experience, but at least I knew I wanted you before today.”
“So what, between the two of us, we have one guy who’s good at kissing blokes?” Charles jokes.
“I take offence to that,” Edwin replies archly. “I’m a very quick study.”
Bloody hell, yes he is. This time, Edwin licks into his mouth, tonguing along his palate and behind his teeth. He’s very clearly learning by doing, no experience at all, but Charles is on fire with it. He just tips his head back further and lets himself be devoured, clinging to Edwin’s arms for dear life.
He ends up on his back, with Edwin sprawled over him, but their kisses slow, losing their frantic edge. They have, quite literally, all the time in the world.
Charles’s mouth feels almost bruised when they finally separate (for now). Edwin’s doesn’t look much better, and his hair is, for once, an absolute mess from Charles running his hands through it. His clothes are rumpled in a way that he’d be scandalised about at any other time, but right now he’s grinning up at Charles with one cheek smushed ridiculously against his chest.
He looks like the best thing Charles has ever seen.
His heart feels too big for his spectral body, like he’s going to explode into showers of pixie dust. He has no idea how he ever mistook this feeling for anything else.
“I love you, Edwin.”
“I love you too, Charles.”
Charles kisses his temple and wraps one arm around Edwin’s back, then threads the fingers of his free hand with Edwin’s on his chest. Their legs are a tangled mess, and he has no idea where Edwin ends and he begins.
There,
he thinks to himself as he closes his eyes.
Feels like home, now.