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“Alright, alright!” Charlie's laughter bounced off the cave walls. “Everyone quiet down. The professional is speaking.”
The others snickered, allowing him dominion over their attention, with the exception of Meeks, whose whispery aside to Pitts could still be heard by all.
“That includes you, Meeks,” Charlie teased, and though Steven rolled his eyes, his lips instantaneously sealed in a pointed grin. He playfully ruffled his hair as he passed by, “Good boy.”
Shoving a hand in his pocket, Charlie fished out the tear of paper he had scribbled his poem onto that morning. He cleared his throat, and with his attention back on the group, he finally noticed Steven sitting there stiffly, his eyes blown wide like a deer caught in a car’s headlights. A strangled sound erupted from his throat.
Charlie’s forehead pinched, unsure if he was more confused or concerned at this out-of-place look on him. “Are you okay, Meeks?”
Steven nodded quickly, almost robotically, as if it was all he could force out.
He wanted to press, to ensure Meeks wasn’t going to turn blue and knock himself out cold or something.
But calling him out on it would cause a scene, and if it wasn’t serious, Steven would probably get mad at him for making a fuss. Because while Charlie was infamously known for his dramatics, Steven was not.
He left it alone.
Steven excused himself from the meeting as soon as Knox stood up to read his poem.
Through snickers, Pitts called after him to take him with him while Charlie accused him of premeditation.
All throughout Knox’s terribly cliche poem, he couldn’t help but let his attention drift away from ribbing on their resident Romeo; remembering the look on Steven’s face earlier, how alien and aghast it was, continued to eat away at him. Steven had never left a meeting early, no matter how sappy and simplistic Knox’s poems were.
Charlie left the cave a few minutes later.
He trudged through the forest, not bothering to mull through the what-ifs of not catching Steven on his way back because, just yards away, he caught a glimpse of a cloaked figure heading towards the school.
The rustling of bushes against his pant leg seemed to alert Steven to his presence, glasses flashing in the moonlight as he called back, “What’re you following me for?”
Charlie hopped over the thickly fallen branch between them, landing in the small clearing Steven stopped in. “You’re the Boy Scout. Ever heard of the buddy system? Besides…” he stepped closer, slowly crunching each stick under his boot as he wryly came up from behind, “It’s not safe to walk in the woods at night, all alone…”
Steven scoffed amusedly.
At least he wasn’t too upset with him.
“Anyway,” Charlie skimmed his hands over Steven’s hips, his touch tentative and feather-light, on the off chance Steven was so mad that he wrenched from his grasp, “I miss you terribly when you leave, if you’d believe…”
“Poetry,” Steven jested dryly, but allowed Charlie to tug him closer, his lips brushing up the back of his neck, trailing up to his own.
Charlie’s hands found purchase on his hips, grounding yet tentative. His kisses were languid, a continuous graze of their lips, an apology left open for Steven to accept. Or not. Charlie still didn’t quite understand what he did.
Steven still felt tense under the weight of his palm, every so often, sighing contentedly into his mouth. That alone did him in, knowing he couldn’t stop now, not when Steven’s teeth dragged over his bottom lip. Not when Steven hissed against his teeth when Charlie pressed flush into his hips.
Charlie smirked, like the arrogant bastard Steven knew and loved, feeling the bulge flush against his hipbone. “Already?”
Steven shoved at his chest, hard.
“Asshole,” he muttered, his arms crossing tightly over his torso.
Charlie clicked his tongue, though his voice is sweet with earnestness, “C’mon, Meeks, you know I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just messing with you.”
His lenient hands made quick, patient work at opening Steven’s arms to him. Steven bit the inside of his cheek, pointedly avoiding Charlie’s gaze, but allowing him to press an apologetic kiss to his lips nonetheless. Charlie smiled, pleased, an encouragement on his lips.
Then it clicked.
He blinked, gravity weighing on him. “The thing in the cave really got to you, huh?”
Steven sucked in a breath, the oxygen stoking the fire behind his eyes; but it wasn’t anger in those flames.
He was flustered.
“Oh.” A soft smile pulled at his lips. Charlie cupped his cheek gently, the pad of his thumb sweeping over a constellation of freckles. “Meeksie,” he coaxed. When Steven still refused to meet his eye, Charlie said more heavily, “Love. Look at me.”
Through the shadows cascading over his face from the moonlight peaking through the trees, Steven’s face was coated in crimson. At last, deep brown eyes obediently found him.
Charlie tilted his head, voice low, “Did you like it?”
Steven scowled, the shame of before seemingly evaporated and replaced with familiar disapproval. He never liked Charlie toying with him when he was already embarrassed as it was.
Unperturbed, Charlie held his ground, the hand on Steven’s cheek never more gentle. “None of that, baby. You gotta tell me. How else am I supposed to know?”
Steven’s mouth pinched, his confession mumbled out in a curt, “yes.”
Charlie kissed him sweetly without a second thought, murmurs of sweet promises on his smiling lips, “Let me make it up to you.”
Steven’s head fell back into the pillow, ginger curls sticking with sweat to his forehead. He panted hard with another lap of Charlie’s tongue, his toes curling against his elbows.
He looked exquisite like this, the wisps of his flush moving slowly across the stars of his freckles like clouds illuminated pink by a sunset. There could be a poem there, he decided, but in all fairness, Steven’s red, kiss-swollen lips and dark eyes have him thoroughly distracted.
He sucked diligently at the head, Steven writhing beneath him, squeezing Charlie’s hand until it turned white. Steven’s hips stuttered up the further he sunk down, cheeks hollowed, forcing Charlie to slip his hand off his thigh to press his hips firmly down into the mattress, a wordless warning.
Screwing his eyes shut, Steven bit into his knuckle, trying to stifle the groan Charlie seemed determined to rip from him as he dragged his lips up his length, releasing it with an obscene pop that did nothing for him trying to stay quiet.
His eyes flicker up to see Steven before him, his lithe chest rising and falling in heavy pants, trying desperately to stabilise his breathing. Charlie peppered gentle nips along his thighs, sending him into a hot shiver.
Pushing himself up, Charlie crawled up the bed, seating himself on his lap. The fair curtain of Steven’s lashes fluttered open reverently as his weeping member made contact with the smooth curve of his ass.
“Charlie— what’re you doing?”
Hands braced firmly on the scrawny expanse of Steven’s chest, Charlie shrugged coyly, “I just wanna talk.”
“Talk?” Steven blinked past his disorientation. “You were just sucking me off and now you want to talk?”
“Oh, Meeksie, you have such a way with words.”
Steven swatted at him.
“Okay!” Charlie snickered. “It’s just, it occurred to me that I have no idea what you like.”
“What I like,” Steven repeated dubiously.
“Yeah,” Charlie delicately traced his fingertips into Steven’s ribs, the other hand firm on his hipbone, “what you like.”
Steven pressed his head back until the pillow beneath him flattened pathetically, his eyes foggy and unfocused past his frames. “Does it matter?” he asked between quieter pants. “We’re not even roommates. We have to evade Pitts and Cameron to do anything.” Steven huffed, propping himself up on his elbows to look at Charlie properly. “I'm okay, sneaking between our rooms and only doing what we can. As long as you’re happy.”
Steven really knew what to say to make a guy’s heart twist in his chest.
“I am. But there are… other rooms in other buildings in the world…”
Steven raised an eyebrow at him.
Charlie shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe I’ll sneak you into my parents’ vacation home sometime over break. Just think about it,” Charlie coaxed, his lips working below Steven’s ear to drawing him up to meet him, a content sigh in his breath, “you and me alone in that big, empty house…” Steven nearly whined when he pulled himself away, “Unless you decide to join Neil in becoming the golden boys of summer school.”
“Sounds like a nightmare,” Steven muttered, palm pressed soundly on the small of Charlie’s back as he pressed himself upright.
Charlie snickered, slipping Steven’s frames off his face. He sealed their lips together in what was meant to be an affectionate peck but ended with Steven’s lips reeling him back in, sending a chuckle vibrating into his mouth.
Charlie drew along the curve of Steven’s ear with his nail, trekking through the short of his hair. “Back in the cave, did you like that? Do you like it when I tell you just how good you are for me?”
He felt, as Steven swallowed back a groan, his dick twitching underneath him. Steven’s eyes grew as wide and as dark as a doe’s in the face of the predatory smirk curling at Charlie’s lips.
Taking a gentle, firm hold of his jaw, Charlie lifted his face up to meet his gaze. “I know what your body is telling me, but what about you?”
Steven’s body tensed below him, warm pants and the heat radiating off of his flushing face fanning across Charlie’s shoulder.
His fingers danced across the short hairs on the back of his neck. “Come on,” he cooed, “Use your words. You want to be good for me, don’t you?”
Steven’s forehead creased as he squeezed his eyes shut, and Charlie wondered if all the heat and pressure coming from Steven as he melted deeper into his chest would be enough to make them fuse.
A breathless “yes,” came choking out of Steven. “Please. Charlie,” he gasped reverently, “I wanna be good for you.”
And when Steven sang his name like a prayer like that, it was hard not to cut him some slack. He grinded his hips down, tearing a whimper from his throat at the reward of relief.
“Attaboy.” He pressed his lips fleetingly to the shell of his ear, “What else?”
Steven inhaled sharply, willing himself upright, and, as if growing some nerve, snarked, “I like to see.”
“See what?” Charlie teased.
“You.”
And really, he should have known that Steven would rise to his taunt, make a competition over riling each other up. But it was so much more gratifying to have Steven call his bluff.
Steven took advantage of his pause, swiping back his glasses.
“Why do you think I keep them on when we’re screwing around?” He slipped them back on, “I like looking at you. Fuck, Charlie,” he whispered, the squeezing against his hips sending bolts of lightning shooting up his spine, “you’re so gorgeous when you’re like this, you have no idea.”
Charlie swallowed thickly. He almost asked him to enlighten him.
“You need glasses when we’re that close?” he quipped instead, weakness quavering in his throat. “Your eyesight must be terrible.”
“Oh, it is,” Steven grinned back, tapping his frames lightly, “Have you seen how thick these are?”
Charlie laughed, warmth spreading like wildfire throughout his body.
“And—” Steven gasped softly, eyelashes fluttering when Charlie rolled his hips rewardingly, “I might like it when you tell me what to do.”
The smirk returned to his lips, “Yeah?”
Steven nodded frantically, “Yeah. When you get all bossy, Charlie, you’re so…” He ran his hands up the solid expanse of Charlie’s thighs, a rush of affection pumping through his bloodstream. “I like you when you’re not so authoritative either,” he confessed lowly. “I treat you so well, don’t I? When you’re babbling beneath me or unable to say anything at all because it’s too good; when you beg me to take care of you because you know that I will…”
A shiver shook his entire body, earning his thighs a gratifying, firm squeeze as he rocked back. “God,” Charlie sighed breathily, “what else?”
“Love your mouth,” Steven closed his eyes, lids falling heavily as he brushed his lips against the corner of Charlie’s mouth. His slender fingers trailed up his bicep, finding purchase above the pulsating beats of his drumming heart. “I think it’s amazing how you can pick me up,” he mouthed into the sharp definition of Charlie’s collarbone, “it’s so easy for you that you barely have to try.”
Charlie hummed cheekily, “I’ll have to keep that in mind. You like it when I pin you up against the wall too?”
Steven nipped at his shoulder, “I like it even better when it’s me pinning you to the bed.”
Charlie bit back a moan.
Steven’s lips found his earlobe next, teeth tentatively grazing it. “Your turn,” he whispered.
A smirk twitched at his lips, “My turn for what?”
“Telling me what you like,” Steven mumbled, peppering kisses and nips along his throat. “Would make it a whole lot easier for me to please you if I knew what you want.”
“You know what I like?” Charlie said, playfulness dripping from his tongue. He splayed his hand over Steven’s chest, pressing him down into the mattress, relishing in his look of surprise. “This. So obedient for me.”
Steven’s breath stuttered as he inhaled sharply, his dark pupils dilating before him. “What else?”
Charlie rolled his hips back down. Steven’s head arched magnificently back into the pillow, biting down on his lip hard enough to break skin.
“Where do I even begin? Love your thighs, your hair, when you look at me with those big eyes of yours… And fuck, those hands…”
His fingertips slipped delicately back up his thighs, their path sending warmth pooling in Charlie’s belly. “What about my hands?”
Charlie hummed, eyes slipping shut in utter bliss. “You’ve got piano hands, babe. Fucking divine.”
And oh, how he loved to see them at work — combing through the pages of books, tinkering away, fiddling with his pen — the gentle bow of his veins shifting with every flex of his hand.
“Steven,” Charlie purred, receiving a grateful groan with the shift of his hips, “how receptive are you to active experimentation as a method of learning?”
“Oh, very.”
“Good. Because I want you to take those magnificent hands of yours,” he closed his fingers around them, bringing them up from his thighs to cradle around his neck, “and just press down a little up here, can you do that for me?” He released his lenient grip as Steven’s fingers coiled around his neck, applying gentle pressure down on his throat. A ping of pleasure coursed through him, even at how tentative the pressure was. “Just like that,” he gasped graciously, “Just a little pressure. You can use your hands, your tie, just… keep that in mind.”
Steven mouthed a breathless “okay,” letting Charlie take hold of his hands once more, unwrapping them from his neck.
“Mm, that’s right.” He lifted himself off of Steven’s lap, settling himself back between his legs. “Now, I’m going to continue where I left off, only this time, don’t be afraid to touch me, okay? As long as you’re good for me and keep your hips down,“ he brought Steven’s hands down to him, encouraging him to card his fingers through his hair, “you can keep these here and tug if you want. In fact,” he winked cheekily, “I want you to, all right?”
Steven nodded frantically, a whimper rumbling in his throat as he pet the dishevelled strands of Charlie’s hair.
Charlie smirked, “Good boy.”