Chapter Text
It must’ve only been a few years before Charlie had married Renee and had their daughter. Fresh out of high school and soaking up the summer months, Charlie Swan was camping out by the river deep in Forks’ dense forest. The sun was beginning to set when Charlie decided to get a fire going – after so long spent under damp tree cover he had become a master of his craft. Absently, he scratched at his steadily growing stubble, turning the fish he had caught earlier over the flames. It was at times like this when Charlie felt truly at home.
He’d always been a little… different. Not outgoing or charismatic enough to be a popular boy, nor smart enough to be the quiet genius. He had his friends, and he averaged okay in exams, but he never stood out. Awkward silences came naturally to him. It’s not that he didn’t care enough to engage with people; he just had nothing to say. The inside of his head felt all wrong, he’d come to realise. It was as if normal people had a mind that looked like a summers morning – clear skies and loud chirping birds – whereas his was more akin to the forest at night, with fog rolling over the ground and the odd animal call in the distance.
He shook his head, grumbling about his sullen thoughts. Self pity was unattractive - that’s what his Pa said.
Before he could begin to scold himself on his fathers behalf, a blur of movement out of the corner of his eye grabbed his attention. The hairs on the back of his neck stood rigid, and he steeled his nerves as he glanced around his surroundings, squinting into the growing darkness.
From behind, a twig snapped, and his head swung instantly around. Approaching him slowly from the spruce he was shielded behind, the most beautiful man Charlie had ever seen smiled apologetically to him.
“Forgive me, I tried not to startle you.” The man couldn’t’ve been a few years older than himself. Pale skin and warm golden eyes, he seemed to glow under the light the fire cast.
“Not to worry, i’ve seen scarier things than your sort out in these woods. You’re out pretty late, not lost are’ya?” Surprisingly he managed to keep his voice relatively steady, even though every fibre of his being was screaming at him to either run the hell away as fast as he could, or to jump into this strangers arms before he vanished as quick as he appeared.
“It would seem as though I am – do you mind?” He pointed to the log Charlie had placed as a makeshift bench.
“Be my guest.”
“Thank you.” He smiled, and the sight made Charlie stare pointedly into the fire, hoping to mask the blush on his face with the heat of the flames.
The strangers accent was hard to place. Formal, but not posh. American, but with a hint of something he couldn’t quite name. It was deep and calming, but sent ripples of fire down his spine that spread outwards to his shoulders and thighs where the man brushed against as he sat.
“I’m sorry for intruding. A warm fire at dusk brought back memories I forgot I had.”
“Good memories I hope?”
“Oh, most definitely.”
Charlie found himself staring at this odd man again, tracing the soft smile that let out a happy sigh as his eyes closed.
“Not from ‘round here, are’ya?”
The angel beside him laughed. “Just passing through, I’m afraid. Testing the waters, so to speak.” Charlie didn’t try to understand the comment, too busy imagining a halo and white wings.
As if sensing the attention, the man opened his eyes and fixed Charlie with a golden stare that took his breath away, quite literally. He sucked in his gasp, hoping his wide eyes went unnoticed.
“How rude of me, my name is Carlisle. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out a soft, uncalloused hand. He shook it without thinking.
“Charlie.”
-
The sun had fully set long ago, twinkling stars peaking through the rooftop of leaves. The fire had died down significantly, but embers still flickered and flames licked in a stubborn attempt to keep alight.
Laughter burst from Charlie – he covered his mouth as he chortled at something Carlisle had said. Carlisle chuckled softly, and let his gaze rest fondly on the gruff boy next to him.
“You have the most beautiful smile, Mr Swan. It suits you, you should wear it more often.”
“Now how many times has a line like that actually worked for you, Mr Cullen.” His tone was sarcastic, but his boyish grin and creeping blush remained.
At some point they had moved closer, with each story told and every joke cracked their legs pressed more firmly together. They bowed their heads as if sharing secrets, giggling like school boys and acting for all the world like they had not met just hours before.
They sat in comfortable silence, letting the small crackling flames fill the air between them. Slowly, Carlisle placed his hand on Charlie’s knee. He left it there, not removing his gaze from the fire in front of him. Charlie turned his head, wide eyed not at the small touch, but at how natural it felt. How right.
“I better get more logs, these nights get awful cold, awful quick.” He made to move, but Carlisle caught his cheek in his hand, turning it softly to face his. Charlie let out a sharp breath.
“Stay.”
Charlie nodded meekly. Then closed his eyes and nodded again more firmly.
“Not going nowhere, stranger.”
Carlisle grinned, and kissed Charlie in a way so tender that the only thing that kept him upright were the desperate hands he wove around Carlisle’s neck.