Chapter Text
“You have a boyfriend?”
Edwin Payne was not an idiot.
He was accomplished, publishing a best-seller at a young enough age to shun him from one too many social circles out of jealousy. He had won awards and written a compelling series (not in that particular order) all while clawing himself back from a damning scandal with a partner who tossed him to the wolves of tabloids without a second thought. He had proven himself over and over again, silencing the gossiping chitters who said he would never make a name for himself if he distanced himself from Payne Publishing and its ludicrous criteria that consisted mostly of draining the life out of every interesting piece of literature that had ever crossed its desk.
So, Edwin may not be an idiot, which made this, without a doubt, the most idiotic thing he had done – even if several people would disagree with that statement. But only Edwin – and perhaps one other person – could ever judge Edwin wholly.
But there was no time to let the panic flash across his face, no time to let the lie be undone. Instead, he did what he knew how to do best; he scoffed. “Do not sound so surprised, Crystal. I am perfectly capable of procuring a partner.”
“Procuring,” Crystal muttered, in the same tone she used while editing his manuscripts: disbelief. It seemed to be her main tone of voice when it came to him nowadays. “Right.”
“Oh, Edwin!” Niko clutched onto his arm, her acrylics catching gently against his suit jacket. “Why didn't you tell me? I've been trying to set you up for months.”
That was partially why Edwin had fibbed in the first place; Niko's matchmaking, while well-intentioned, was rather… obstinate. There had been several “accidental” dates, and only one had lasted beyond the first week of awkward conversation. But Edwin had not liked Monty, not like that at least, that much had been apparent even before their first kiss, which had left both of them upset until one teeth-pulling conversation. And then the subsequent betrayal of learning just which industry fear-mongerer Monty was related to. But Edwin knew a thing or two about distancing yourself from those who raised you – as did Crystal, a begrudging common experience they shared – and they had become… friends, in a sense.
Monty was nice, but Edwin's heart was locked away for only one person, even if that one person did not love him back. At least, not like that.
Edwin grimaced, hiding it behind a nonchalant sip of his tea. “It is very… new.”
“How new?” Crystal asked.
“A few months,” Edwin answered easily. This was fine, he could do this. Crafting up a quick faux partner was nothing next to coming up with complex detective stories.
“Can we meet him?” Niko was smiling sunnily, excited, and it was difficult to feel any bout of panic around her.
But Crystal, committed to making his life difficult with her scathing feedback on his drafts and unnecessary comments about his personal life, dropped a wrecking ball through the thin layer that kept his panic bubbling to over the surface: “Yes, Edwin,” she drawled, placing extra emphasis on his name in the way that made him scowl, “We need to meet him. Bring him to the Christmas party. Let’s make things interesting this year.”
No, Edwin thought desperately, simultaneously as Niko said, “Yes! Oh, that's so perfect, Crystal. You need to bring him to the party, Edwin.”
Maybe he should've opted for a coffee instead, the tea suddenly not strong enough to help him get through this conversation. Maybe he should start carrying a flask around as well, or nick one of Charles’ cigarettes. “I shall have to ask. Besides, the party is a rather sordid ordeal, I would not want to wish it upon him. I am not sure if I am even allowed to invite him in the first place.”
Edwin himself did not like to attend Maxine's yearly Christmas parties, an un-festive occasion that left much to be desired in both the drinks and company department. It was a thing he thought he had left behind with Payne's Publishing, but Lost and Found Publishing kept forking over the funds to Maxine, and a party kept becoming a needed necessity that was more about making connections than any true celebration.
“That's stupid. I'm bringing Niko, aren’t I?” Crystal leaned over the table, placing a quick peck on Niko's flushed cheeks.
Edwin threw his arms up. “She's my agent! She works there!”
“I'm her date,” Niko supplied helpfully, and there really was no arguing with that.
“Don't know why this is the first time we're hearing about this and you refuse to let us meet him,” Crystal said, bringing them back to the focus of the conversation. “Unless… he's not real.”
“He is very much real, Crystal.”
“Then…” Crystal gave him a challenging look.
“Fine, we shall attend the party together. At least I will be in much more pleasant company,” Edwin conceded, stone-faced in front of Crystal's victorious smile and Niko's soft cheer. But his thoughts were racing faster than he could grab onto them, the implications of the situation settling onto his shoulders with a deafening sigh.
He was, simply put, utterly fucked.
There were not many things that surprised Charles Rowland.
He had dealt with every curveball life had thrown him, from dropping out of school and running away from home after an incident involving himself and his ex-mates was swept under the rug to getting rejected from every art school he had applied to, leaving him to work at tireless jobs with no hope for a future. Meeting Edwin at the lowest of lows after one blur of a night led to the turnaround of his life. With Edwin's encouragement, Charles had started posting online, picking up a bit of a following that led him to more than one illustration deal (though Edwin's books always took priority).
Hard to surprise someone when their whole life had felt like one big spin-the-wheel game.
So, when Charles came across his roommate and best mate swiping through Grindr in their living room, being surprised was an understatement.
“Looking for a new roommate?” Charles teased, careful to keep his voice light. “Can't believe you're sick of me already, mate.”
The phone slipped out of his hand as Edwin startled, disappearing between the couch cushions like a fishing reel yanking it away. Before Charles could swipe it up and present it to him, Edwin had fished it, his knuckles white around the casing.
“Charles! A little warning next time,” Edwin scolded, settling back onto the couch just a touch more relaxed. Charles came around the back to sit next to him, his legs pulled up to rest under him, peering curiously at Edwin's phone.
“So… roommate?”
Edwin sighed, shifting slightly so his body weight was leaning on Charles rather than the couch. Charles tried not to implode. “I could never replace you. No, this is for… something else.”
“Proper partner then?” he prodded, swallowing around the thorn in his throat. “Finally ready to venture out into the world of dick pics?”
Charles grinned at the slap against his arm. “No! For goodness sake, Charles, do be less vulgar. I am looking for a simple date.”
“Clearly,” Charles said, waggling his eyebrows. “That's why you're on a dating app, mate.”
Edwin hesitated, his thumb hovering over the app icon. Honestly, Charles was surprised Edwin had even learned how to get onto Grindr; the man still referred to each app with a definite article.
“It is not like that,” Edwin finally said, closing the phone and setting it aside – settling something in Charles’ chest. Edwin's hands came to rest on his thighs, his back suddenly ramrod straight, enough for Charles to nudge at it slightly with his shoulder until it relaxed again. “I may have ended up in a spot of trouble. Lunch with Niko and Crystal was eventful, to say the least.”
“Isn't it always? You should bring them around sometimes, y'know? Maybe like this, we won't have to eat leftovers from Mum's karahi for a week and a half.”
“I like your mother's karahi. But I do also prefer having space in the fridge. Portion control is not your strong suit, hm?”
“Bloody impossible is what it is. Not my fault.” He’d been trying for weeks to reduce the recipe to fit two people but he always ended up making more than they needed. At least it could count for meal prep. “Now, what did they say to get you onto Grindr, mate?”
“I may have-” Edwin stopped, looked up at the ceiling, chewing his words. This must be really bothering him if he couldn’t say it out loud immediately. He sighed. “I may have mentioned having a partner. And they want me to bring him to the agency’s Christmas party.”
Oh. Oh.
Charles hoped his voice was level enough when he said, “That’s brills, mate.”
Edwin frowned. “It’s brills that I have put myself in a rather difficult position?” he questioned, tone unimpressed.
“Nah, nah, not that.” Charles course-corrected, waving his hands in front of him. “It’s just- well, now you can put yourself out there, yeah? Find someone who can…” he trailed off, unable to look at Edwin any longer. “Well, someone who can love you back.
Someone who deserves you, he doesn’t add.
Edwin’s frown only deepened. “Charles, I am not looking for an actual partner, just a singular date. Someone who is willing to… lie a bit, seeing as I have put Crystal and Niko both under the assumption that we have been dating for a while. And there is no universe where I let Crystal hold this over me. And, I know you don’t return my feelings but I’m still” – here, Charles looked at Edwin to find the softest of blushes dusting his cheeks – “well, in love with you.”
Every racing thought crashed to a stop as Charles’ heart quickened its pace like it had with the first confession all those months ago and every time Edwin looked at him, face an open portrayal of love. “Oh, that’s- yeah, that’s aces.”
“Aces,” Edwin repeated in the same unimpressed tone from earlier, but now just a touch fond. “Alright. What is not aces is that this is transpiring to be futile. I may have to contact Monty and see if he is willing to-”
“No!” The protest escaped Charles before he realised it, his mouth snapping shut immediately at Edwin's incredulous look. The thought of some random bloke getting it on with Edwin – even for a ruse – was bad enough, but someone they both knew? Someone who Charles had watched fall for Edwin? Yeah, it was enough to make him do something stupid. “Why do you need someone else, mate? I’m right here, aren’t I?”
Fuck, too stupid.
Edwin sucked in a sharp breath, the only indication that Charles had stepped onto an invisible landmine. “What are you offering, Charles?”
Now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop. “For the holiday party, mate. You need someone who knows you, someone who’s willing to go along with it, someone you’re comfortable with, then- well, I’m offering myself up, mate.”
The room fell into silence as Edwin considered it, considered him, Charles trying not to squirm under that scrutinising gaze. He could usually tell what Edwin was thinking, a trait he prided himself on, but the task was impossible now. It almost made him take the suggestion back, laugh it off, settle into easier territory but it all felt too late for that.
And maybe… he didn’t want to.
The thing was, Charles had been trying to figure out his own shit for the past few months. He loved Edwin, but did he love him like that? It was… daunting. This was Edwin, his best mate. He couldn’t fuck it up, so he needed to be sure. And yeah, there were moments where it felt laughably simple, like when he’d catch Edwin in the middle of the night sitting by their kitchen island, notebooks scattered around and laptop illuminating the sharp lines of his face, and Charles felt awash with such a strong sense of affection that threatened to flood the entire space. Or when he’d slip Edwin one of his sketches based off of whatever interesting bit had caught Edwin’s fancy from his drafts, and Edwin’s face would light up, smile soft and eyes softer as he thanked Charles like he didn’t have hundreds of his post-it sketches tucked away by now. And Charles would look, would watch, and would want to tip forward, let the moment freeze and be captured in a snow globe to keep secure in his heart to come back to, over and over again.
But he needed to be sure. And what if they got together and Edwin realised he didn’t really love him like that? What if Charles fucked it all up? He knew he had a tendency to, knew that once anybody got past his charming smile and to his battered and bruised heart, they wouldn’t want him anymore. He didn’t want to put Edwin in that position.
So, this ruse was for Edwin, but in more ways than one. Two birds with one stone. They’d go through the act and if Edwin was uncomfortable by the end, nothing would need to change. Even if it helped Charles finally figure shit out, it wouldn’t let him fuck up the real thing.
After a tick, maybe two, Edwin finally spoke.
“Charles, are you sure? Wouldn’t this be uncomfortable for you? Seeing as I… well.”
Of course, Edwin was concerned about him first. God, Charles lov- “Nah, mate. It’s you, yeah? Nothing uncomfortable there. Wouldn’t offer it if I wasn’t sure. Unless…” – shit, what if this was too much for Edwin? What if he didn’t want to do this with Charles and that’s why he hadn’t asked Charles in the first place? – “I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable. All up to you, mate.”
Edwin shook his head. “No, this wouldn’t be uncomfortable for me. And you bring up a good point as you are the most suitable candidate for this. But do not feel like you must do this for me, Charles, as I can always try and find someone else. As I said, I’m sure Monty would not mind.”
“Anything for a mate, yeah?” Charles said, weakly. And anything to stop the little curdle of jealousy nipping at Charles’ heart.
Edwin straightened, something flashing across his face, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. “Yes. I suppose. But we must have boundaries, of course. We live together, but most importantly, we are best friends. I would not want this to sully that in any way. As soon as you wish for it to be called off, we shall.”
“Don’t think anything’s gonna warrant me calling it off, I’ll be honest, mate. So, sure, that’s brills with me.”
That look was back, that invisible landmine that Charles couldn’t stop putting his weight on. “Charles,” Edwin said sharply, warding him back.
Charles put his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright! I’ll tell you if anything is wrong. Same goes for you, yeah? Besides, what exactly could go wrong anyway?”
Edwin slipped out the small notebook he kept in his pocket for those out-of-the-blue ideas, twirling the pen elegantly between his fingers, and began penning down a list.
Of course, Charles was the first person Edwin had thought of when realising he needed to pull off a whole ruse. Who better than his best friend, the one who knew him best, to play the part of a devoted partner?
But that was a tall order, even for someone as selfless as Charles. He could never put Charles in a position that would make him uncomfortable, not when Edwin was in love with him.
He appreciated that nothing had truly changed between them after the confession months ago, with Charles staying steadfast in his promise that it hadn’t ruined anything. But going about their lives in their usual fashion and pretending to be a couple in front of others was on opposite ends of the spectrum for how his confession could affect things. Edwin needed to ensure that their friendship remained intact afterwards because losing Charles would be like losing a limb or, worse yet, half of his heart.
When Charles offered himself, Edwin felt like the universe was playing a very cruel joke. A joke that gave him everything and also threatened to take it all away with one wrong move.
For so long, Charles had been Edwin’s home, his very life. Ever since Edwin had left Payne Publishing and Simon and a life that only smothered him and found Charles, things had been brighter. Everything had felt right. Writing had felt easier next to someone who was an endless source of inspiration.
(Charles’ illustrations had certainly not hurt. Edwin had kept each sketch pressed into the pages of his notebook. The very first one, scribbled on a napkin at a cafe near the book signing event they had met at, stayed tucked in Edwin’s jacket pocket, right above his heart.)
The possibility of denying Charles’ offer had sprung to his mind but he couldn’t. He wanted to be selfish, just for once. Edwin did not expect Charles to ever return his feelings and would be content to continue on with just having Charles by his side as a friend, but even he was not strong enough to deny the temptation of having one night where he could pretend that things were different between them.
It could be life-ruining. It could tear it all apart if Edwin was anything less than this side of a loving partner without letting anything real spill through.
Edwin could not lose this because of feelings.
Everything had to be perfect.
They had spent most of the weekend going over everything. The party wasn’t till the end of the week but Edwin wanted to be thorough and Charles couldn’t blame him; the more they talked, the more things they found that needed to be straightened out.
“Pet names?” Charles had asked later that night over the sizzling sounds of vegetables being stir-fried. “We should have those, right? Like all those gushy couples.”
“Did you have a particular one in mind?”
Charles handed Edwin the bowl of sauce before he gestured for it, and watched as Edwin carefully poured it in. He hummed, tapping at Edwin’s notebook which lay open next to the stove. “What about ‘love’?”
Edwin splashed some of the sauce out of the pan, inches away from ruining his otherwise impeccable notes. Charles couldn’t help his delighted giggle as he moved the notebook away. “C’mon, love,” – Edwin white-knuckled the spatula – “if you have that reaction every time, they’re gonna start thinking we’re teenagers in our first relationship.”
“Charles. You would do best not to compare me to a teenager, thank you very much.” Edwin sniped, and all was as it had been. “Fine. ‘Love’ it is. Another problem then; getting used to it. Will… ‘darling’ suffice for you?”
Oh, fuck. There was something far too tantalising to hear darling said in Edwin’s posh accent, especially when it was aimed at him while Edwin was in their kitchen, cooking a recipe with Charles' instructing him every so often. The sight of Edwin, sleeves rolled up, waves loose, eyes focused on the pan, all while calling Charles darling hit him square in the chest.
“Yeah,” he managed, thankful he hadn’t been carrying anything ‘cause he would have definitely dropped it. Bloody hell, what had he signed up for? “That'll work just fine. So, how’d we get together?”
“Let us not stray too far from the truth; it will be easier. We had been living together for a while and friends for even longer. Eventually, I fell for you-”
“Did you? Unfortunate, ‘cause I also fell for you.”
Edwin smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes and Charles cursed his runaway mouth. Fuck. But before he could apologise, Edwin continued, “That makes things much easier. Shall we say… you confessed first and we got together during the summer? After my book tour?”
That was… different. Yes, the confession had taken place after Edwin’s book tour but Charles clearly hadn’t confessed. But if Edwin wanted to change it to be like this, for his own sake, Charles wasn’t pressed to argue.
Charles nodded. “Didn’t wanna burden you beforehand did I?”
“Nonsense. I would have been thrilled before or after.”
“My smile is pretty convincing.”
“Whatever you say, darling,” Edwin said, his teasing tone the only reason Charles hadn’t fallen off his perch on the kitchen island. Charles could see it clearly: love and darling settling dangerously into their lives, rolling off his tongue easily like they had always meant to be commonplace between them. But Charles needed to be careful.
Later, after a night’s worth of darling said on loop swimming through Charles’ head, they found themselves on the couch again, the notebook laid out against Edwin’s pulled-up legs as he leaned into Charles’ space, and a movie playing out on the telly, an old detective one they had watched a hundred times over when Edwin was still trying to figure out his footing out of Payne Publishing and Charles was still trying to figure out his dreams away from his father's belt.
“The hope is that we will only have to make an appearance at the Christmas party. As this is technically an office party, we will not have to worry about public displays of affection,” Edwin stated, and Charles tried not to feel too disappointed by that. “However, minor PDA is a must if we are to be convincing. And that must include you…”
They were squeezed up together, Charles resting his chin on Edwin’s shoulder to read his notes. His hands encircled Edwin’s waist loosely, Edwin’s side running parallel to Charles’ front, thoroughly cosied up. It wasn’t anything new, not by a long shot, but as soon as Charles noticed how close they were, he felt his heart quicken, just a bit.
“Touching you?” Charles offered when Edwin didn’t continue. “Think we got that covered, mate.”
“Yes,” Edwin finally said. “Touching me. Is there someplace I should not touch you? Or a place you would prefer to be touched?”
Charles made a choked-off sound, swallowing it under a cough and a loud burst of the soundtrack from the telly. “Nah, everything is brills mate.”
“Very well. Nothing exaggeratedly overt, of course. But I also do not have any particular grievances.”
“Still, lemme know if anything changes in the moment, yeah? Can never be too sure.” He knew he was much more prone to reaching out and how much it had annoyed his previous partners when done one too many times in public. Charles never wanted to annoy Edwin.
“Of course, Charles,” Edwin responded, easy as anything.
What they hadn’t talked about was kissing. Charles wasn’t sure how to bring it up – it felt like such a leap from everything else. How was he meant to ask if his best mate, who was in love with him, was comfortable with kissing him? Maybe they wouldn’t even need to; it was a formal office party. How many reasons could there be to kiss Edwin apart from a quick little peck on the cheek?
Edwin was thorough; he’d bring it up at some point surely if it was a problem. Until then, Charles would bat away any thoughts of kissing him.
Charles couldn’t fuck this up by making Edwin uncomfortable – he couldn’t lose this.
Everything had to be perfect.
The breakroom was pleasantly empty when Edwin escaped inside, setting the kettle to boil as he grabbed the pack of chamomile to calm his nerves.
He flipped open his satchel, ensuring his draft was still sitting snugly inside. He had been up almost all night going over the last few scenes, catching twisted dialogue and one too many descriptions he was no longer fond of. Why he even paid Crystal was beyond him at this point, when he could do most of the editing on his own. (Though nothing could really compare to the way Crystal seemed to have an all-knowing way of catching the tiniest of mistakes and plot holes that slipped Edwin by. Despite her Americanism, she made for a good enough editor that Edwin felt begrudgingly grateful to have her at his side.)
Edwin did not come to Lost & Found Publishing often, not when he and Niko usually held their meetings in cafes or over call, but every once in a while, Ms. Night wanted to do an in-person check-in. And they were getting dangerously close to the novel’s publication date, meaning this meeting was more important than ever.
And Niko, as it turned out, was far better at dealing with Ms. Night than Edwin was.
Speaking of, she mentioned showing up here at any moment-
“Edwin, babe, don’t see you around here often. Who’s keeping you cooped up at home?”
Thomas King entered the breakroom with a flourish, holding a takeaway cup that Edwin was certain held more than just coffee. His suit was rumpled, but artfully, in a way that made it seem intentional. It most likely was. His curls framed the sunglasses sitting on his nose that slid down slightly as Thomas gave Edwin a once-over, eyes roaming more than necessary.
“My eyes are up here,” Edwin said, not giving Thomas the satisfaction of speaking his name. Thomas pouted but slinked forward nonetheless. “Please do not tell me you wish to ask me out again.”
“Oh, come on, I wouldn’t ask you in this mangled excuse for a kitchen. Do you really think so little of me? Unless, of course, you're into paltry displays of normality, in which case, I'm free for that Christmas party.”
“Kitchenette,” Edwin corrected, turning around to prepare the tea. “And I do not think of you at all.” He did not bother addressing the last bit. Let Thomas take the non-answer as an answer, he was smart enough to figure it out.
“Lies aren’t good for the soul, sweetheart.” Thomas settled against the counter next to him, placing his cup down. He leaned forward, cupping Edwin’s cheek, sharp acrylic nails grazing over Edwin’s lip. “Take it from me: the truth sounds much better.”
Edwin wrenched himself away. Thomas King was many things, a businessman – in the farthest sense of the word, for Edwin was not sure how much business he really conducted – an investor, but most importantly purveyor of all things that fascinated him. And frankly, while the fascination had its merit, it had truly run its course by now. Perhaps if he had not caught Edwin at such a high-strung time, this conversation would have gone differently. As it was, Edwin felt no gentleness colouring his words as he snapped. “The truth, Thomas, is that I am already taken. Happily, might I add. I am not free for the party to go with you. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend.”
With that, he stalked out and did not look back.
Outside, walking – speeding – through the hallways, cursing himself for never getting his tea, Edwin ran straight into Niko, who enveloped him in a hug that stopped him short. “Hi! I was just about to come get you.”
She stepped back, blinking when she saw Edwin's tense expression. “Oh no, what's wrong? Is it the meeting? Don't worry, you know I can get Asa to agree to anything, Edwin. If you need an extension or more chapters then-”
“Niko, please, no, I am done. I have the draft with me, it just needs to go through Crystal. It is not the meeting, it- it does not matter. Let us take our leave, shall we?”
But Niko was perceptive and an excellent friend. “Is something going on with your… boyfriend? Date gone wrong?”
Edwin could laugh. How correct and patently wrong she was. “No, he is alright. I am quite certain Niko, nothing is wrong.”
“Okay… if you say so. But you can talk to me about anything, you know?” She grinned. “Especially any dates.”
“Niko, we are in a professional environment,” Edwin chastised but couldn’t help a genuine smile, easy in the way that Niko always seemed to bring forth. And a date with Charles was a sweet thought on its own.
“I know! I know! But oh, Edwin, I’m so curious. Who is he? What’s he like? When did you meet him and what do you do and-”
“All very good questions,” Edwin interrupted before she could list off a hundred more. “But we will be late if we do not get a move on.”
“Okay, okay, fine. But later, Edwin, you are telling me everything.”
“I swear I saw ‘em when I did the load earlier.”
“Well, it is not in here, Charles, so clearly you did not.”
“Oi! Maybe it got eaten!”
“Eaten?”
“Machine’s a wonder, mate. Always rattling. Takes up a lot of energy. Could be eating socks to replenish.”
“Charles.”
“Yes, ma- ow!” A balled-up pair of trousers slid down his face, landing in a heap on his lap.
Edwin busied himself with folding, embodying innocence. “Perhaps you are not looking hard enough. Another check might be necessary.”
“I looked plenty hard,” Charles huffed, reaching into the machine again and- “Found ‘em!”
That was all the warning he gave as he threw the missing sock at Edwin, who, without looking up, caught it. Charles gaped at him.
“What the bloody hell?”
“You really are far too predictable, Charles,” Edwin quipped, turning to him with a grin, wide and carefree, enough to bowl Charles over with surprise and endless affection. Edwin turned back to his folding, unaware of Charles’ bursting veins. “While I have you here, I should mention that I ran into Thomas earlier.”
The liquid gold running through his veins froze, weighing him down. “Oi, what? Did he try anything ‘cause I swear to god-”
“Charles, I am alright,” Edwin soothed. “He was being… as usual as ever. I told him I was taken – which, I suppose, is another added benefit to this charade.”
“You suppose right,” Charles huffed, his next told more aggressive than necessary. “If he so much as lays a greasy paw on you, I'll have him bought to rights.”
The room lit up with Edwin's laugh, his hand encapsulating Charles’ raised fist to bring it down with a gentle squeeze. Charles’ posture melted. “I am sure that will not be necessary, but I appreciate the sentiment. However, there is another matter. Niko brought something up before yesterday's meeting that I wish to speak to you about.”
“Oh?” Charles perked up, curious. He’d met Niko a couple of times, catching her at times when he was home during working hours at the same time as Edwin and she had popped over with a basket of baked goods and a cheery smile. Niko was nice, in the simplest way possible and he could see why Edwin had taken such a liking to her. Hell, Charles had been charmed by her immediately as well. “What’d she say?”
“She asked if we’d gone on a date last weekend and I had to… fib.” Edwin’s ears had gone a shade of pretty pink. “I seemed to have forgotten to discuss with you what we would do together when, well, together.”
Charles scrunched his nose. “Didn’t think much would change, innit?”
“Oh.” Edwin stared down at the shirt in front of him like it had personally offended him. “So, you would not like to go on dates if we were together?”
“What- wait, no, mate, I meant like-” What had Charles meant? That every day was perfect as it was, and he couldn’t really see how being together could change things apart from maybe unreserved affection? That being with Edwin like this was what Charles would want anyway? Fucking hell. “‘Course I’d want to go on dates with you. I just meant- we’d do what we always do when we’re together, yeah? We live together mate, most couples don’t even get to that point.”
The shirt was released from the one-sided staring contest. “That does make sense. We are going about this all backwards, are we not?”
Charles shrugged. “I guess, but it doesn’t matter, does it?” He’d take it at whatever pace Edwin would want – he’d meant it when he said everything was brills with me.
“I suppose not. Still…” The hesitancy in Edwin’s voice made Charles scoot closer, dragging his half-unfolded pile with him across the floor. “I was thinking- perhaps we should- well, perhaps we should go on a date.” Then, added on as an afterthought: “As a test run, of course.”
“Of course,” Charles repeated. A date. A proper date. Oh god.
The party was soon but far enough away to seem like a distant dream. S'not like much had changed between them, had it? They were both still Edwin and Charles, except now they discussed how to get away with acting like a couple. Honestly, they'd done stranger things. But a date was real and solid and something that would need to be done soon.
“We don’t have to if it’s too much,” Edwin continued when Charles didn’t say anything else, voice a pitch higher. “I wouldn’t wish to make you do something you're uncomfortable with.”
That snapped Charles out of his haze. “Nah- no, ‘course I’d like to go on a date with you. A proper one, yeah? It’ll be brills. Look, I can even plan something for us.”
“Really?” Edwin sounded skeptical and Charles couldn’t have that, could he? He was meant to be an excellent boyfriend.
“‘Course, mate, c’mon, you’ll love it. It’ll be right up your alley, alright?”
Edwin pressed his palms into his thighs. “It’s not that. I don’t want to leave the work to you-”
“S’not work, is it? C’mon, let me plan it? It’ll mean a lot to me,” Charles pleaded. “Plus, we can celebrate you getting published.”
“Alright,” Edwin conceded, the beginnings of a smile pulling at his lips. Charles always wanted to cheer Edwin on, no matter how many times he’d been published. It was a right feat, innit? He'd watched Edwin pour countless sleepless nights into that final draft – they deserved to celebrate. “Don’t worry about pleasing me, I’m sure I’ll love anything as long as it’s with you.”
Charles grinned, feeling warmed all over. “You’ll see. Proper romantic.”
After a day of hushed plans and snapped-shut laptops whenever Edwin so much as walked into a room, Charles told him to wear something comfortable and meet him at the front door just when Edwin was beginning to think their date was set to be postponed.
It took him one too many ticks to choose an appropriate sweater, the surprise of it all firing Edwin's brain with unhelpful images. It was not a real date, so Edwin should not get his hopes up, should not have stubborn hope rising in his chest and swirling around his beating heart in the first place, but he could not help himself.
This was Charles. Fake date or not, this was Charles and how anyone ever expected Edwin to remain indifferent after this whole ruse was up was beyond him. It had been mere days of teasing pet names, purposeful touches, and future-building discussions, and yet Edwin was already fearing the worst for his heart after the end of the week.
He should call it off. He should make an excuse for Crystal and not attend the party at all. A quiet night in was far better than the sure disaster that he was setting himself and Charles up for.
Perhaps he should say as much to Charles. They hadn’t need to make this a date at all. A simple friendly outgoing would suit them much better anyway.
“Ready, mate?” Charles asked, looking dapper in his polo and coat. His earring kissed his jawline as he tilted his head, looking Edwin over. Edwin suddenly felt silly about how long he had taken when it seemed like Charles hadn't dressed differently at all.
“Yes, I hadn't meant to leave you waiting,” Edwin apologised, taking the coat from Charles' hand and wrapping it securely around himself.
“Oi, none of that.” Charles gestured at where the green sweater had disappeared under Edwin's coat. “You look right fit, yeah?”
“Ah.” Edwin let the coat fall open. “Thank you.”
He was about to bring it up, the idea of calling it all off, when Charles’ other hand appeared from behind his back with a bouquet of pink camellias, dewy looking as if they had just been plucked. Edwin gaped.
“Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to change. Wanted to get you these,” Charles said, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly while holding them out to Edwin. They were arranged perfectly, with a note stuck at the top in Charles’ loopy handwriting.
“They're beautiful, Charles,” Edwin whispered, awe-struck as he reached for them carefully. “Really, you shouldn't have.”
“Hey, I said proper romantic, didn’t I? I meant it, y'know? Besides, you deserve as many flowers as you want.”
Edwin ran a reverent hand over the petals, inhaling their sweet scent. “Thank you, Charles, really. But oh- I didn't get you anything.”
“Nah, didn't have to. I'm surprising you.” Edwin frowned and Charles laughed. “C'mon, you can do something next time, yeah?”
“Next time,” Edwin promised faintly, feeling heady about the possibility of a next time and all thoughts of calling it off were stored away in neat boxes.
The snow underfoot gave way as they trekked up the small hill, passing several laid out blankets, some empty and some occupied, possibly for the same reason they were here.
Charles had stayed quiet about his plans in the cab over, refusing to let Edwin hear the muttered location or answer any of his questions. It had only served to build the growing excitement Edwin felt, and if he were in any other headspace, he might have taken a guess as to where they were headed far before they reached their destination.
As it were, Hampstead Heath was draped with winter's calling card, snow surrounding them with twinkling, festive lights lighting their way. Charles held cups of hot cocoa he had picked up from a stand nearby while Edwin pulled at his gloves, watching bits of snow settle like bedazzling crystals onto Charles' curls.
“Here we are,” Charles announced, coming to a stop in front of a laid out blanket. A collection of snacks rested on one side, while a telescope graced the other, making a clear picture. “Haven't looked at the stars in a bit. Thought we might have a quiet night and give it a go.”
Edwin cast a glance around and found them set at a distance from everybody else, as if they were in their own bubbled corner. “This is quite thoughtful, Charles.”
Charles beamed. “C'mon, sit down, love.” He plopped down, setting the cups aside and patting at the spot next to him.
Edwin swallowed and sat. Charles’ hand remained in between them as he used his arm to prop himself up, legs stretched out, head tilted back to expose the long line of his throat from under his scarf. Edwin couldn’t help but watch, mesmerised.
“Pretty, innit?” Charles murmured, the night sky reflecting in his eyes after letting their sight adjust to the dark.
“Yes,” Edwin answered, blinking to tear his gaze away and follow Charles’ eyes up. “I'd rather think so.”
“Didn't even know you could see the stars from out in the open in London. Would've come out here more often. I used to sneak out to the roof sometimes when dad was in one of his moods,” Charles recalled and Edwin's hand came to rest on top of Charles’, squeezing it reflexively. Charles moved so their fingers were intertwined and squeezed back. “Could see the stars clearly from there. Bloody beautiful, all those twinkling lights. Right wonder, they are.”
Edwin hummed, letting the silence sit afterwards as they looked and looked and looked, letting the enormity of it all wash over them. “Do you know the constellations, darling?”
The warm pressure around his hand increased and Edwin wished, for a tick, that they weren’t wearing gloves. He liked Charles’ hands – artist’s hands, with slender, long fingers that gripped any tool like he had years of experience with it. Charles was confident, even when trying something new, and Edwin loved that about him. He did not take each task as a failure if he did not succeed on the first go; instead, he let it fuel him until he got better, more at ease with whatever medium or style he had decided to pursue.
Edwin thought, if given the chance, Charles might figure out courting Edwin – he was already doing it valiantly – and if anybody should have excellent practice with that information, he would be glad for it to be Charles.
“Nah. Bet you do, though.” Charles chuckled, soft and fond. “Tell me?”
And Edwin does.
Charles held onto Edwin's hand through the whole cab ride home, something giddy and unrestrained bunching up in his chest, going down his throat like warm hot cocoa on a harsh night. The whole thing had gone brilliantly, from the panicked ordering of the flowers down to the very biscuits he'd bought – Edwin's favourite. They'd spent the night discussing and falling into bouts of comfortable silence, all while cosied up next to each other.
He'd been nervous, thinking that it was all too much or not enough for Edwin, for Edwin deserved only the very best, but all his doubts had gone out the window when Edwin had lit up at seeing the first proper constellation, raising up his hand to trace it out. Charles could hardly tear himself away from watching Edwin, a bloody sight to behold, brighter than any damn star.
Disappointment rose when the cab pulled up to their appointment building, but quickly squashed itself when Edwin reached out for Charles’ hand expectantly. Charles wanted to bottle his feelings and drink them in the rainy nights; he could get seriously drunk over the stuff.
He felt a bit tipsy anyway as they climbed the steps, cursing the out of order elevator, and giggling all the while to their floor. They had only a couple glasses between the two of them but on top of the late hour and the lack of inhibitions being around Edwin caused, Charles couldn’t help but fall into the role of a nonsensical couple returning home after a late night.
God, he was done for. It was funny how quickly he'd been done for. A couple of delightful names, hand holding, and one extraordinary date – if he did say so himself – and Charles felt the words rising to the tip of his unrestrained tongue as they neared their door.
But he couldn’t. Not here. Not now. Not when even the slightest daze of alcohol muddied his brain, covering it in a fog of pure bliss.
Charles felt himself be pulled forward, crossing the wide distance of the last few steps to their flat, when Edwin suddenly stopped and spun around, eyebrows arched expectantly, and Charles found himself much, much closer than expected.
They froze.
Edwin's eyelids drooped, lashes fluttering as his gaze dropped past Charles’ nose and then back up just as quickly. Charles found himself mirroring the action, watching Edwin’ wine drunk lips, plush and red as he seemed to unconsciously swipe the barest hint of tongue over them.
Charles breathed out harshly, wondering if the beating of his heart was audible, loud in his own ears like popping fireworks. Charles wondered if he untangled their fingers and placed his palm over Edwin's chest, if he would find his heartbeat mirroring his own.
He wondered if the flush on Edwin's cheeks was because of the cold or because of something else. He wondered if they would be warm to the touch, if Edwin would lean into it or move away.
He wondered if tomorrow they'd wake up and they would be wrenched out of this hazy dream or if the moment could stretch on forever, become their new normal. He wondered if Edwin would want that. He wondered what Edwin was thinking.
Charles wondered what would happen if he leaned forward.
He watched Edwin's eyes flutter shut. The roar of his heart dimmed instead of rising, everything around them muffled apart from the sound of Edwin's harsh breaths, matching his own.
He moved forward and-
Edwin stepped back.
Charles pulled himself back immediately, the world coming back to him like the rush of a wave overtaking his body, drowning him under the strong tide. He felt unsteady, Edwin's hand no longer in his, Edwin's body no longer near his, Edwin himself no longer-
“The keys, Charles,” Edwin said, breaking the last of the spell with the steadiness of his voice. But he wasn't looking at Charles, was instead focused on a spot on the floor, head ducked slightly.
“Right, right,” Charles managed around the squeeze of his throat, digging into his pockets before he fucked everything up further. “Have ‘em here somewhere, gimme a tick- ah. Here.”
Before Charles could move forward to unlock the door for them, Edwin had snatched them, spinning around like he couldn’t bear to look at Charles any longer, and opened the door, slipping inside.
“Wait, wait- mate-” Charles called out, feeling everything come undone, anxiety threatening to drown him with the tide. “Are you- are we- is everything alright?”
Are we alright?
Edwin's shoulders rose to his ears, his back still to Charles as he gave a curt nod. “Yes, of course. Goodnight, Charles.”
And he disappeared.
Charles stood outside, watching the moment he had wanted to capture in a snow globe crash to the ground, shattering into a thousand shards, glass piercing his skin.
Fuck.