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To Edwin’s surprise, nothing had changed after Hell. More specifically, nothing had changed after his confession. He was sure that there would be at least a bit of lingering awkwardness, or maybe some distance on Charles' part. But it had been a few weeks since they returned to London, and he hadn’t shown any signs that he might be even the least bit uncomfortable. His aloof demeanor never wavered, and he continued slinging his arm around Edwins shoulder, tilting his head back and laughing loudly whenever Edwin said something snarky. Edwin didn’t exactly want to wait for the other shoe to drop, but it felt a little too good to be true.
They all agreed they should take some time to settle back in, so Edwin had a lot of free time on his hands. Without a case to solve, he spent most of his time lounging on the couch they had bought for Crystal. She insisted it was only fair she got a few amenities, especially since she was the one member of the agency who actually needed them. Edwin caved, and instantly regretted it the minute he saw her triumphant smile.
“This place needs some serious redecorating. I mean, I know you're over a hundred years old, but Jesus, this is dated.”
She had moved into the apartment next to theirs, and came over every few days, still resolute in her goal to redecorate. Edwin was pleasantly surprised to find that he didn’t mind her presence. Sometimes, she would join Edwin on the couch and they’d talk for a while, switching rapidly between whatever topics came to mind. Crystal made decent tea, which he appreciated, even if he couldn’t taste it.
She’d changed the curtains as well, and in the evening, while Edwin was reading, the sun would make squares of light on the carpet. He had to admit, the place did feel a little less cave-like.
Charles spent most of his time traveling, at least to Edwins knowledge. In the early mornings he’d jump through the floor length mirror in the living room, waving goodbye as he disappeared. Sometimes he’d bring things back, handfuls of books and trinkets. Edwin didn’t question it. He was just glad to see Charles doing something other than working a case.
Tonight, with no one in the apartment, Edwin decided to indulge in a guilty pleasure. When he was alone, he’d turn on Scooby-Doo, wrapped in a weighted blanket with all the lights turned off.
At first, he was afraid to even watch it. Memories of sitting on Niko’s bed itched at the back of his mind. He could still hear the cadence of her soft laugh, feel the way they’d lean against each other as the Mystery Gang’s antics played across the computer screen. After a while it grew to be a comfort, a way to quell the burning feeling that rose in his throat whenever he thought about her.
He sat on the couch, the sound of dialogue softening as he spaced out, looking out the window to the city outside. According to the thermometer on the wall, it was cold, nearly freezing. A few people were still up, their windows filled with orange light. What were they doing up so late? Watching a movie? Having dinner with a friend? Pulling someone close and-
“Mate, are you watching Scooby-Doo?”
Edwin jumped, whipping around and nearly falling off the couch in the process.
“Charles, god! You scared me!”
He grins, and Edwin can see his pointy front teeth glean in the low light of the TV. For reasons unknown to him, it makes him all too aware of his breathing.
“Sorry, I thought you heard me come in.”
Edwin huffs. “No- I very much did not.”
Charles walks further into the room, coming to stand at the back of the couch. Edwin cranes his neck to look up at him.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you.” His voice is soft, almost sleepy sounding. Edwin tries not to focus on it too much.
“It’s ok.”
Charles leans down, resting his elbows on the edge of the headrest. In the dark, he can barely see his face. Edwin exhales, shoulders visibility untensing.
“Mm, that’s right. Just go back to relaxing.”
Edwin stills.
Oh God.
He feels a very sudden urge to throw the blanket off himself. The room feels twenty degrees hotter. If he were alive, he’s sure he’d be flushed red from the chest up. As if things couldn't get any worse, a hand slides over the back of his neck. He can’t really feel it. But mentally, he knows it’s there. He knows it’s Charles' hand on him- knows that the slight presence on his skin is because of his long, piano player fingers.
Charles' words play on repeat. He couldn’t know. He didn’t mean anything by it. But the way he said it. All low and smooth while being so close to him. So Edwin can’t really help it when he melts into the touch. It’s so hard to be subtle about it too. He leans back into the couch, shifting slightly sideways.
“Charles?” Edwin whispers. He doesn’t want this to stop. But he needs to say something.
Doesn’t he see how this is affecting him?
A thumb rubs across his skin, and Edwin breaks out into goosebumps.
“Yes?”
Edwin bites back a sound. “Did you wanna watch with me?” That’s not what he meant to say.
The hand leaves his neck, and he instantly regrets it.
“Sorry, I promised I’d help Crystal with some stuff early in the morning. Otherwise I would.”
“Oh, that’s ok. Don’t worry about it.” Edwin smiles.
Charles smiles back, patting him gently on the shoulder.
“Alright, I’ll see you in the morning, ya?”
He nods, turning back to the TV. Edwin waits for a bit, listening. Once he’s sure Charles has left the room, he sinks back into the couch. He’s shivering, something he hasn’t done in a while. The place where Charles touched him is burning, and he wants to scrub the feeling away.
They return to solving cases a few days later, after Charles declares he’s bored out of his mind. They slip back into their old routine with ease. It feels good to be helping people again, and as enjoyable as reading all day is, Edwin finds casework to be much more stimulating. Plus, it’s a good distraction from whatever it was that happened with Charles a week ago. He really, really doesn’t want to think about it.
Their most recent case involved two recently deceased siblings that wanted to find their mother, who they suspected had been involved in their deaths. She had been a massive pain to track down, and seemed disgruntled to see two detectives show up at her doorstep. Thankfully, Crystal had tagged along with them, and her ornery nature saved them in the end. Without her help, they’d never have been able to find out that the Mom had killed them for insurance money. After nearly being pelted in their disguises, they had finally gotten to see the siblings move onto the afterlife.
Honestly, Edwin loved doing this, but God was it tiring sometimes.
“What a truly despicable woman.” He said, walking into the small kitchen, Charles and Crystal trailing behind him.
“Their own mother.. those poor kids ” He shakes his head, turning around to face the two.
“I don’t know about you all, but I’m exhausted.”
Crystal nodded, running her hands over her face. “I feel like I could sleep for a day.” She twists her arms above her head, yawning.
“I always end up so goddamn achy after these cases.”
Edwin frowns. “Would you like me to make you some tea?”
She nods, smiling gently. “That would be great Edwin.”
Edwin looks at Charles, who’s taken a seat at the dining table. He looks tired too, head resting in his hands. He moves to the counter, pulling a box of tea out from the cabinet. It’s methodical, the way he fills up the kettle, running a finger under the tap to make sure it's not too cold. He sets it on the eye of the stove, turning the heat up. Crystal likes her tea with just a bit of sugar and cream. Charles likes it loaded with both. He’s careful to spoon just the right amount into each of their cups.
He casts another glance at Charles, who has his eyes closed. If he didn’t know better, Edwin would assume he was asleep. He wants to put a blanket around his shoulders and lead him stumbling to bed, running his hands through his hair while he got comfortable.
Oh. Where did that come from?
He ducks his head. Hot embarrassment runs through him. He’s glad Charles can’t see his expression right now.
The whistle of the kettle jolts him out of his thoughts. Probably for the better, it isn’t helpful to dwell on things like this. He busies himself with preparing the tea, the warm steam rising into the air. Outside, it’s just starting to get dark. The apartment is quiet, their noisy upstairs neighbors must be out. He’s just about to carry the tea out into the living room when he feels pressure against his back.
Charles.
He presses his chest flush against Edwins back, coming to rest his hands on his waist.
“That looks good, it’s a bloody shame we can’t drink it.”
“Mm” Edwin mumbles, doing the bare minimum to acknowledge him. Charles rests his head on his shoulder, and Edwin closes his eyes, trying to remain calm. He thinks that if he picked up the tea right now, his hands would shake.
“It’s nice of you to do that for Crystal”
Charles' voice vibrates against him, and Edwin has to repress a shiver. He’s all too aware of where Charles' hands are, and the place where he’s covering his hips is scalding.
Edwin bites his tongue, his face tense with anxiety. It’s too much.
“Yeah, I figure she needs a break. I know I do.” His voice cracks. He really hopes Charles doesn’t notice. He feels the hands on his hips tense, and grabs the cup in front of him to stop himself from doing something stupid.
“I should take this out to Crystal.” He pushes off the counter, stepping back to get Charles off him.
“Yours is on the counter.”
He doesn’t look back to see Charles' reaction.
Ok, so maybe something had changed after Hell. Edwin just didn’t know why. Charles has always been a touchy person, generous with his affection. It was always casual too, blatantly friendly. Edwin hadn’t minded it. In fact, Charles was the only person that he was comfortable with touching him.
But it had never been this..intense. There would be occasional pats on the shoulder, or long, crushing hugs. Those were fine. Those were nice.
This touch was different. There was very little Charles could do to make him uncomfortable. But this was bringing up certain feelings that Edwin had been trying to deny even existed. Feelings that made him want to touch Charles in ways that weren’t so friendly.
Later that night, when Charles and Crystal had retired to their respective rooms, he laid on his bed and ruminated. He had decided he would devote some time to think it over, not too much, but just enough so that he could come up with a solution. It was proving harder than he thought. His mind was wandering.
He couldn't stop thinking about Charles' hands on him, on the back of his neck and around his hips. The gentle, but sure way he had held him. The fact that he wasn’t just imagining it made him clench his teeth. No, It had really happened.
What was going on?
Perhaps what scared him most was that regardless of how much he willed away those memories, he couldn’t deny that he really wanted it to happen again.
He wants Charles to touch him. All over. He wants his hands around him as he hugs him from behind. He wants them on his shoulders, his thumbs grazing his collarbones like he did in the staircase out of Hell. He wants to interlace their fingers together. He wants to see Charles' toned skin against his pale complexion.
There were more risque thoughts he dared not indulge, ones prompted by the fact that couldn't help but stare when Charles took off his coat. He had memorized the way his upper arms stood out against his white tank top, the ridges of his shoulder blades visible through the fabric. Or the way his trousers fit his slim waist, tailored just wider at the hips. Edwin is particularly hung up with the sharp angle of his jawline, the cut of his hair, and the singular earring he wears in his left ear. He’s developed a full body ache just thinking about it.
He wants to touch Charles too. He wants to return that affection.
He cuts off that train of thought before it begins, rolling over and pressing his face into the pillow. If he was alone in the apartment, he’d scream. Instead, he grips the fabric of his sheets and squeezes his eyes shut.
The idea comes to him then, in a cramped fit of frustration.
The next time Charles touches him, he’ll just ask him to stop. It’s so simple he curses himself for not coming up with it earlier. It’ll be better for both of them. Edwin won’t have to feel overwhelmed, and Charles won’t have to keep up this charade of what is most likely pity over his unrequited feelings.
Edwin knew it would work in the end.
The next time ends up being a lot sooner than he had expected. They had just come back from another trying case, and Edwin is splayed out on the couch, arm hanging off the side. He feels heavy, like he could lay there forever. In another room, Crystal is shuffling around or arranging something, he’s not sure which . He can hear the scuff of her socks across the hardwood floor.
The couch dips, and he strains his neck up to see the cause. Charles sits on the space not occupied by Edwin, legs tucked under himself. He’s smiling. Edwin moves his knees to make more room, and Charles shuffles closer. He can feel him staring, but pointedly tries to ignore it.
For a few minutes he stares idly at the ceiling, tracking the top of the wainscoting with his eyes. A faint sensation trails along the inside of his ankle, and he sits up. Charles is tracing his fingers over the small, exposed sliver of skin that's been left uncovered by his sock. Edwin clears his throat.
“Charles. We need to talk.”
Charles looks at him like a kicked puppy, his wet, brown eyes impossible to look away from. The motion stops, and he drops his hand.
“Of course, what’s up?”
Edwin sits up, unclenching his hands. He’s not even sure how to approach this conversation.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been a bit more touchy with me lately, and while I do appreciate the sentiment, I think it’s better for the both of us if you stop.” The words slip out in one long sentence.
He’s afraid to look at Charles' face.
When he finally does open his eyes, his breath catches in his throat. The corners of Charles' mouth are downturned. It’s almost unnoticeable. He’s moved away from Edwin, putting himself at the furthest edge of the couch.
“Oh my god. I'm so sorry Edwin. I really didn’t think about that. I’ve just been so relieved that you made it out of hell. I don’t ever want to make you uncomfortable.”
He averts his gaze to the carpet. His friend can’t even look him in the eyes.
“Charles, you didn’t make me uncomfortable.” He pauses. How could he explain that all this affection was the opposite of unwanted? That he wanted it so badly, more than anything. He couldn't. Because Charles doesn’t feel that way about him.
“Let's just stick to hugs, alright?” He puts on a poor imitation of a smile.
Charles mirrors him. “Yeah, of course mate. I have no problem with that.”
For a moment, Edwin says nothing, and there’s a painful silence that fills the room. He shifts his focus to a point behind Charles.
“Well. It’s getting late. I should head to my room.” He smooths his vest, sitting up abruptly. It’s a lie, he has no reason to be in there. But right now, he’ll do anything to avoid the palpable hurt coming off Charles. He walks swiftly, nodding at him as he passes.
When he reaches his room, he leans against the door, shutting it with an audible click. He hadn’t exactly expected it to go well, but that was excruciating. Edwin bites down on his knuckles, wincing.
I'll be better in the long run. He just has to remember that.
After their incredibly awkward conversation, Edwin hoped there’d be a little time for things to cool down between them. But they're immediately thrust into a new case the next day, and things are, well, tense.
The day had already started roughly, with no new leads on the mystery surrounding their current clients' circumstances. After hours of futile research, the three of them were all equally exhausted. Things had only gotten worse from there.
They had barely escaped a disastrous situation in which a disgruntled homeowner found them snooping, and threatened to shoot them. He had cornered Crystal while Charles and Edwin were upstairs searching. The two had gotten into a bit of a squabble, and unfortunately hadn’t heard the commotion downstairs.
“What the hell was that?” Crystal throws her hands up, turning to face them. She’s panting hard, worn out from the mad dash they just made.
“You guys need to tell me when something goes wrong. That's why I’m here.”
Charles cut in, squaring his shoulders. “Nothing went wrong, Edwin was being stubborn, and jumped the gun. He insisted that we were looking in the wrong place when we had only been searching an hour! ” He shoots him a glare.
Edwin can’t help but fire back . “And guess who ended up being right.”
Charles looks like he’s about to kill him.
“That arrogance of yours is exactly why we got into this disagreement in the first place.”
Edwin opens his mouth to retort.
“What the fuck is going on with you two?” They both turn to look at Crystal, who’s put herself in between them.
The expression on Charle’s face shifts into something unrecognizable. It sends a shiver down Edwins spine.
“I don’t know, why don’t you ask Edwin?” He sets off down the driveway without another word.
“Edwin?” Crystal stares up at him, her voice softening.
He clears his throat, trying to stop the tears that are welling at the corners of his eyes.
“Charles and I had a talk last night, and I think I’ve made a mistake.”
He knows that won’t appease Crystal, so he looks over his shoulder, making sure Charles is out of sight.
“Ever since Hell, Charles has been touchy. With me.”
She nods. “ Hm. And that’s a problem.. because?”
“Because it makes me feel overwhelmed, and not in an entirely bad way. Which scares me. When he touches me, I feel like I'm on the edge of making a dreadful mistake, one that I wouldn't be able to take back.”
Crystal looks at him, eyes full of concern. Her brows furrow. “What kind of mistake?”
He looks at her, meeting her level gaze.
“I’d like very much to touch him back. I want to do more than that too. I want so much, Crystal.”
She’s quiet for a moment, looking at him earnestly.
“Oh Edwin. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She says it in such a way that makes Edwin want to break down right then and there, on the tree lined street.
“Do you really think so?”
“I do. I think it’s sweet. It’s perfectly normal to have those thoughts about someone you like, especially about someone you love. Remember, he’s your friend. He’s been your friend for 30 years. I don’t think anything could ever change that.”
He supposes she has a point.
“Thank you Crystal. I obviously can’t talk to Charles about this. I’m glad you're here.”
She nods. “Oh, and Edwin. I still think you should apologize to him for what happened today.”
He rolls his eyes, but acknowledges her with a smile. It seems that Crystal’s been making a lot of good points lately.
By the time Edwin reaches Charles, it’s begun to rain. He narrowly avoids the small lakes of water forming on the road, and he’s sure his hair is plastered to his forehead. Through the sheet of rain, he can faintly make out Charles' form. He’s careful in his approach, not wanting to startle him, but also not wanting to stomp over and make a fool of himself. From here he can see Charles' hair, wet with rain, droplets forming at the end of his curls. Something must cue him off to Edwins presence, because he looks over his shoulder.
He’s been crying.
Edwin wants to step forwards and brush the tears off his cheeks. Instead, he stays where he is, feeling almost dizzy.
“Charles? Can we talk? I understand if you need some time alone, but I need to say something.”
He waits, clenching his fists. Seconds stretch into minutes. He wants to close his eyes so he doesn’t have to see the tense silhouette in front of him, the one that he caused.
He hears footsteps, and the next thing he registers is being pulled into a crushing hug. Charles sighs, burying his face into Edwin’s neck.
“I know what you said about the whole touching thing, but God Edwin. I’m sorry. I made a mistake back there.”
Edwin wraps his arm around Charles' back, pulling him even closer. He lets out a breath of his own. Charles feels warm and solid.
“That doesn’t mean you can’t hug me. Actually, I really enjoy our hugs. I would be quite upset if you stopped.” He can feel Charles smile against his shoulder.
Edwin exhales, hoping Charles can’t feel the way he just tensed. “And I’m sorry too, I was being arrogant, and frankly, a straight up jerk.”
Charles laughs softly.
“It’s ok. But yeah, you were being a prick.”
If Charles notices Edwin staring at him more than usual on the walk back home, he doesn’t say anything.
Things seem to calm down after that. They're swamped with back to back cases, coming home late more often than not. Edwin wouldn't tell her this, but he feels bad for Crystal. She’s the one who can’t afford to stay up three days in a row. Instead, he subtly suggests that she take a trip back home.
“I think it’ll be good, a chance to check in on your parents, perhaps?”
“Yeah, right. I’m going to keep a tally to see how long it takes for them to notice I'm living with them again.”
But she must’ve genuinely considered the idea, because she’s packed her stuff within the hour, waiting by the door when Edwin walks into the living room. “I’ll be back in a few days.”
He rests a hand on her forearm. “I hope things go well.” He means it.
He finds the apartment unusually quiet without Crystal. When it’s just him and Charles, it’s easy to forget that the presence of ghosts is different than that of the living. He wanders through the small space, making his way to the kitchen, mentally cataloging the items they’ve collected over the years as he goes. Edwin is so caught up in this that he doesn’t hear Charles until he speaks.
“You alright mate?”
He jumps, hand smacking against the counter.
“You’ve seriously got to stop sneaking up on me like that.”
He laughs. “I’m not doing anything, you're the one lost in your own world.”
He hears the sound of the kitchen cabinet opening, and turns around to see what Charles is up to. Which is a big mistake.
Because he very quickly realizes Charles is wearing very little. Well, alright, it’s not like he’s totally indecent. But coming from a time where people were completely covered from the chest down, it’s a shock.
He’s wearing a white t-shirt that's probably two sizes too big for him, just brushing the tops of his thighs. The collar hangs off his shoulder, exposing the ridge of a prominent collarbone. His boxers hug his thighs, the black fabric barely visible underneath the shirt. The light filtering through the kitchen window turns his skin a tawny gold, and catches his side profile, highlighting the strong slope of his nose. His hair is unkempt, like he just woke up from a satisfying nap. He looks comfortable. Edwin wonders if he’d be warm to the touch.
He feels himself pale, if that’s even possible, and turns around, nearly slipping on the tile floor.
“My apologies, I didn’t realize you were in a state of undress.”
Behind him, he hears Charles laugh.
“Mate, this is hardly a “state of undress”.” He mimes Edwins accent.
“We went to an all boys school, and I know times were different for you, but surely you’ve seen worse?”
Edwin would rather not dwell on memories of the locker room, so he clears his throat, trying to steady his voice.
“Yes, well. It’s different when it’s your friend of thirty years who you’ve never seen take off so much as a sock.”
Which was true.
Charles stifles his laughter.
“I guess you're right, but I do like to get out of my clothes every once and a while. It just usually happens in the privacy of my bedroom.”
He seems to realize how that sounds, and his eyes widen.
“Uh, it’s comfortable. I mean I've been wearing the same clothes for thirty years. It gets a little stuffy. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting you to be out here. I thought you were seeing Crystal out the door. I figured I’d nip into the kitchen for some tea.”
He sounds bashful, a sharp contrast to the relaxed way he spoke earlier. As if all that ease had slipped away. As if he was suddenly embarrassed about the amount of skin on display.
He shouldn't find that so cute. Edwin turns around, making an effort to keep his eyes trained on Charles' face.
“Don’t worry about it, I was simply taken off guard. I’m relieved you feel comfortable enough in my presence to shed some layers.”
That earns him a smile.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it.”
What “it” is exactly, he’s unsure. But once Charles leaves, he heads straight to his room.
He’s dug himself too deep. How is he supposed to pretend things are even remotely normal now? He groans, biting down on his bottom lip to suppress the noise.
He’s, for a lack of better word, screwed. Charles looked so good, leaning surely on the cabinet. The image of his legs won’t leave his mind. Hot shame washes over him. Thinking about his friend's legs? His thighs? The slope of his shoulders? How his weight would feel on top of him-
No. No. He winces.
“Oh God.”
Breath. Just breathe. That’s what Charles would tell him. Although he really doesn’t want to think about him right now, his advice has always snapped him out of past states of panic.
Edwin inhales through his nose, holding the breath for longer than necessary. He puts his hand over his chest to remind himself that he’s taking in air, and finds himself lingering over his collarbones, mimicking Charles' touch. It worries him just how much it calms him down. He imagines Charles hands cupping his face, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
Suddenly, he doesn’t feel so panicked. He keeps breathing, untensing his jaw. Once he’s not feeling total dread, he tries to come up with some semblance of a plan.
He decides he won’t avoid Charles, because that won’t do any good. Maybe if he just spends time with him then all these thoughts will go away. Like exposure therapy. Which sounds awful. But he really doesn’t want to do anything that could jeopardize their friendship. He was already walking on thin ice with the confession.
Once he’s gathered himself a bit more, he walks out into the living room.
“Charles?” He calls out.
“Yes?” A door creaks. Charles peers out, still in his loose white t-shirt.
Edwin tries to ignore his outfit, steadying his voice.
“Did you want to watch Scooby-Doo with me?”. As soon as he says it, he feels ridiculous. The whole situation feels embarrassing. He tries to push down that annoying voice in his head that tells him he’s only doing this to be close to Charles.
Charles grins. Of course. “I’d love to, mate”. He strides out to the living room, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch. When he sees Edwin standing in the hall, he tilts his head.
“Cmon.”
Now he just feels stupid for thinking Charles would pass up the offer. He makes his way to the couch, spending far too much time calculating what the appropriate distance to sit away from him would be. He ends up taking a space about two feet away. Not too close, but not too far to make Charles offended.
He starts the episode, and somewhere after the thirty minute mark, he stops paying attention. Edwin wouldn’t be able to tell you a single plot point because he’s far too focused on the way Charles keeps sneaking glances at him. He’s looking at him so much that it’s starting to make Edwin nervous.
The episode ends, and they’re left staring at the “Continue Watching?” screen. It all feels incredibly tense, and Edwin finds himself unable to unclench his jaw.
Charles shifts next to him, and Edwin braces himself.
“Can I ask you something?”
Edwin turns to meet him. “If this is about-“
“Edwin. Please. I know you don’t want to talk about it. But please.”
Charles looks determined- and serious, so he keeps quiet and gives him a nod.
“I wanted to ask. Why did you want me to stop touching you? You never really said why. I mean I assumed you were uncomfortable but..” He trails off, getting quiet.
“I mean, I just hate the idea that I was making you like, creeped out or something. So can you just tell me outright? I’d rather hear it now. I don’t want you to have to feel like you have to hide your feelings to keep me from getting hurt.”
Edwin’s stomach drops. Charles looks so withdrawn, holding the blanket around himself.
“Oh, Charles” he moves closer. Part of him doesn’t want to admit anything. He’d rather ignore this. But the way Charles' voice trembles is unbearable.
“Please, don’t think that. Oh this is so silly. The reason I didn’t tell you is because I was worried about making you uncomfortable. I, well. When you started to become more touchy, I assumed maybe it was a bit of a pity thing. And you assured me nothing had changed after the confession. But I thought you felt bad that you didn’t have feelings for me like that, and you were trying to make it up to me with physical affection.”
Charles' eyes look wet, and he opens his mouth to start speaking, but Edwin puts a hand out.
“Am I safe in assuming that’s not the case?”
Charles laughs softly.
“Bloody hell, no. That couldn’t be further from the truth. I was touching you because, one, I really was glad you made it back from hell. And two, sometimes I just feel so overwhelmed with affection for you that being physical seems
like the only way to express it. I’ve been having a lot of feelings lately. Towards you, Edwin.”
He knows it’s not possible, but he’s sure his heart has skipped a beat. Had he heard that right?
“Feelings?”
Charles nods.
“After your confession, I kept thinking about what you said, about how I thought we weren’t gonna make it out of there. And soon, it was all I could think about. I would catch myself looking at you, and I’d get this feeling in the back of my throat. Like I was choking. Not even in a bad way, if that makes sense. I’d be all warm too. I couldn’t stop staring at you, stealing glances when you had your back turned.”
He sighs as he rests his head against the top of the couch.
“Nighttime was the worst. It’s so quiet here, and I had time to consider what all of that meant. My mind kept going back to you, to the way I wanted your company all the time, to the way I wanted you to pay attention to me, the way I wanted more. Even if I didn’t understand what more was. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I felt out of control. But touching you, it felt good. It felt so good. Once I started, I didn’t want to stop.”
Edwin’s eyes are so wide they’re starting to water. He’s breathing heavily, unable to contain the overwhelming feeling threatening to spill over. He grabs the arm of the couch.
“Edwin, I understand what more means now. I really, really like you. More than as a friend”
Edwin’s never passed out, but he thinks he might now. Something akin to a whine slips out of his mouth. He clamps a hand over his lips.
“Charles. You're serious? This isn’t some cruel joke? I’m sorry I just-”
Charles cuts him off, ducking his head.
“No, Edwin. I wouldn't joke about something like this.”
Edwin knows he should probably respond, that he should say something, anything. But he’s been rendered speechless. All he can focus on is how close they’ve become, that the distance between them is gone. When he finally attempts to speak, it comes out choked.
“Charles, when you started getting really touchy with me.” He stops, unsure of how to articulate exactly how he’s feeling.
“You should know that I really enjoyed it. It’s all I've been able to think about. You’ve made me quite… needy, I believe that’s the right word. But I was worried that I was taking advantage of you. Now that you’ve told me this, well. ” He moves his hand tentatively, resting it on top of Charles' palm.
“I think you should touch me.” He can hear the smile in his voice, and hopes Charles does too.
Charles looks up so fast that Edwin is worried he’s hurt. His pupils are visibly dilated.
Oh.
“Fuck, never thought I’d hear you say that. ” His voice is rough, and it brings Edwin back to the thing that started all this. The night Charles came home late.
He watches as Charles moves closer. “You have no idea how badly I want to do this.” He reaches a hand out, placing it gently on Edwins knee. “When you told me you wanted me to stop touching you, I wasn’t sure I'd be able to take it.” There's a hint of amusement in his voice, and it makes Edwin feel dizzy.
Charles puts a hand on the back of Edwin’s neck, and he just about whimpers.
“I can’t believe I ever said that”. He’s breathing heavily now, back pressed into the sofa. Charles has him pinned, his knees pressing into his.
“Mm, me neither”. His hand moves into his hair, rubbing his fingers through it slowly. When Edwin looks up, he can see the wicked smirk on Charle’s face. It only serves to make him look devastatingly handsome.
“I still can’t believe you like me. As in, you like me.” It’s becoming quite difficult for Edwin to speak coherently. He chooses instead to press into Charles touch.
“Bloody hell, you look good like this.”
Hearing that flips a switch in Edwin. He grabs Charles hand, interlacing their fingers. He’s aware of how desperate he probably looks right now.
“I could say the same about you.” He moves his hand to Charles' forearm, tugging on his sleeve.
“Come closer?” He shifts his legs, giving the other boy more room.
He watches as Charles catches up, eyes widening. For a second Edwin thinks he made a terrible mistake, but then, he feels a set of hands braced gently on his waist, and pressure against his legs. Charles is in his lap.
Charles is in his lap.
He squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling. This can’t be happening. But when he opens his eyes again, he’s met with a pair staring back at him. Charles leans down.
“Is this ok?” His voice is soft and raspy
Edwin nods. “Yes, yes. It’s just..a lot.”
Charles nods in return, one hand leaving his waist to make its way to the side of his face.
“I know, it’s a lot for me too. You can tell me to stop anytime if it gets to be too much”
Edwin places his hand over the one currently residing on his cheekbone. “It feels good Charles. I promise I’ll tell you if that changes.”
Charles sits bracketing his thighs, his weight warm and grounding. Edwin isn’t sure what to do with his other hand, so he opts to run it back and forth across the fabric beneath him.
“I’m gonna take care of you.” He continues running a hand through his hair, focusing on the close cropped part at the back of his neck. Charles is looking at him with such admiration that Edwin is tempted to avoid his gaze entirely. He barely registers when Charles stops playing with his hair and grabs the lapels of his jacket, giving Edwin a wordless glance.
He realizes how unbecoming this is of him, but he shucks the coat off anyways, not caring where it lands. Then, he makes quick work of his suit, or, as quick as he can with all the buttons. Even with his shirt and pants still on, he feels exposed. A product of his time, he supposes.
“I would suggest you take off some of your clothes as well, but I guess we’re even”
Charles laughs, tilting his head back. Edwin never wants to stop hearing that sound.
“I guess you’re right, but I’d like to think my outfit helped contribute to some of this.” He raises an eyebrow, gesturing broadly in the direction of where their legs meet.
“I think you might be right.” Edwin is suddenly aware of just how close they are, Charles’s face mere inches away. He looks down at him, humming his approval. Then, he dips his thumbs down the collar of his shirt, finding his collarbones.
“I remember doing this when we were on that bloody staircase. I don’t even think I was doing it on purpose. It just felt right.”
“I liked it. You knew what I needed, back there. You always do”
It’s quiet for a moment. The two of them maintain eye contact, and it should feel weird, but instead, it feels like the most normal thing in the world.
“Keep touching me? Please?”
Charles doesn’t even take a moment to respond, instead putting his hands at the bottom of Edwin’s shirt, just barely moving underneath it. This is uncharted territory. Aside from the occasional brush of hands, he’s never really had skin on skin contact with Charles before.
He can feel him breathing hot against his neck, and it only serves to make him more wound up. He lets out an embarrassing noise, something between a whine and a groan.
Charles skirts underneath the hem of his shirt, and Edwin squirms, shoulders pushing against the couch. It’s a little embarrassing how a meager amount of contact has him so affected.
“You doing alright?” The way he says it is almost teasing, especially when he continues to trail his hands up, making his way to Edwin’s ribs, where he takes his time running his hands across his skin.
“You’re so soft...God Edwin”
He keens, pushing himself into Charles touch. He’s itching to touch him back. Edwin is pretty sure that would be alright, given Charles is quite literally in his lap right now. But when he places a hand on his waist, it’s tentative and just barely touching him. Charles is dizzyingly warm, even through the fabric of his shirt.
“Can I touch you?”
Edwin feels him shudder. Then, Charles grabs his hand, placing it under his shirt.
“You know, you didn’t have to ask. I appreciate it, but it’s kind of all I've been thinking about. So, of course you can touch me.”
His breath hitches at the feeling of Charles' bare skin, and what he’s saying isn’t making Edwin feel any calmer either. He runs his hand up to the dip of his waist, lingering there for a moment.
‘I hope you don’t mind if I mess up your hair, because I’d really like to play with it right now.”
Charles smiles, highlighting his laugh lines. “I suppose I can make an expectation for you” He leans down, and Edwin threads his hand through the dark brown curls that lay on his forehead.
The other boy scoots down slightly to rest his head on Edwin’s chest, still running his hands up and down his waist. For a few minutes they don’t say a word to each other, Edwin methodically running his hands through Charles' hair. He gets lost in the quiet until he hears Charles mumble something against his shirt.
“Edwin?”
“Yes?” He responds, careful not to bump Charle’s' head with his chin.
Charles lifts his head. He looks..embarrassed? No- nervous?
“Can I kiss you?”
Edwin must've misheard. He stares, waiting for Charles to repeat himself. Surely he didn’t hear that right.
He must've zoned out for a while, because Charles has a hand on his shoulder.
“Edwin?”
He snaps out of his daze, looking at Charles directly. “You really want to kiss me?”
Charles doesn’t respond. Instead, he leans forward, cupping Edwin’s face. Then, he kisses him. It takes Edwin a few seconds to comprehend that Charles is pressing his lips to his. Mainly due to the fact that well, he’s never done this before.
Charle’s nose is angled against Edwin’s in a way that should be uncomfortable, but he finds it oddly attractive. In fact, he thinks he might spontaneously combust. It’s only when Charles pulls away does he realize he hasn’t been kissing back.
“Was that not ok? I mean I’m sorry if I misread, fuck. You just weren’t reciprocating I-“
Edwin cuts him off, not even wanting him to finish that thought.
“Charles, that was more than ok, truly. You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve never done this before”
Charles laughs softly. “Somehow, I seem to have forgotten that detail. Maybe I could teach you a thing or two?”
Edwin feels overheated again. But this time, his voice is clear when he responds.
“I’d very much like that”
Charles wastes no time, leaning forward until Edwin can feel his breath on his face.
“I’ll take the lead, but I want this to be good for you too. Try to move your lips more, and move them forward a bit, if that makes sense. It’ll feel a lot less awkward that way.”
Edwin nods, taking the initiative and closing the gap between them. He might be a bit hasty, but he’s desperate to quell any doubt Charles has.
It’s definitely awkward at first. His chin digs into Charles face, and they miss each other's lips a couple times. But eventually, it seems like Edwin gets it. And he’s definitely starting to understand the appeal.
Charles is making soft noises against his mouth, and Edwin finds himself equally vocal.
It started out softly, the two exchanging gentle kisses, pulling back occasionally to check in with each other. But now, he’s aware that things are getting..sloppy. That thought alone is certainly affecting him. He feels like he can’t get enough of kissing Charles. At this point, he’s gripping his waist while Charles returns the gesture. One hand rests on his back where he’s pulled him flush against his chest.
Something warm and heavy sits in his stomach, and he likes it. He doesn’t want it to ever stop. Something about finally expressing his need for Charles is making him light headed. His lips are impossibly soft. He feels real and warm and grounding and Edwin can’t seem to feel close enough to him.
Charles pulls away. This time, to take a figurative breather.
“Bloody Hell, Edwin.” He goes back in for another kiss, one with enough force to leave Edwin making a sound when he stops.
“You're making me desperate.” He looks at him through his eyelashes. Between Charles mussed up hair and kiss-swollen lips, Edwin isn’t sure how he's still conscious.
He tips his head back, chest heaving. “I’m making you desperate? Charles I feel like I’m sweating.”
Charles cranes his neck back, exposing his throat. Edwin has a dastardly idea. He pushes himself up a bit, grabbing the back of Charles' neck.
“Hold still?”
Charles stiffens, and Edwin takes the opportunity to put his lips to his neck. He kisses his way up to the junction of his jawbone, admiring how soft his skin is. His voice is muffled when he speaks.
“So pretty, Charles, all of you. You're gorgeous.”
That earns him a full on groan, one that can feel against his lips.
When he makes his way down to his collarbones, Charles grasps his hair, halting him to a stop. Before Edwin can protest, Charles is at his neck, kissing the place below his ear. He holds his face, turning his head slightly to kiss along his jawline.
Edwin panics and places his hands on Charles' very bare thighs. He brings his hands away instantly, but not before Charles flinches and yelps in surprise.
“Sorry, Sorry. That was not on purpose I swear.”
Charles shushes him. “It’s ok, just a little too much tonight. Not that it didn’t feel good.”
He gives Edwin a quick kiss, settling back into his lap. “ But I think we better slow down.”
“I agree. I’m quite content to stop here tonight. Thank you for all of this.” He lays a hand on Charles' back, holding him securely.
“Mm, thank you, Ed’s. I never thought I’d be able to do this with you.”
Charles practically melts into him, shifting to rest his weight on Edwin completely. Edwin feels his back untense as he traces patterns under his shirt, and he brings his other hand up to Charles' hair.
“Can we stay like this tonight?’ Charles asks, pushing his face into Edwins chest.
“Of course we can. I’d like that very much.”
Edwin can’t remember the last time he felt this at peace. Part of him is still having trouble accepting that this is actually happening, that Charles feels the same way about him. But instead of entertaining that thought, he kisses the top of Charles' head, whispering into his hair.
“I love you.”
Charles doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. He merely takes Edwin's hand, interlaces their fingers, and squeezes tightly