Charlie was in love. It was obvious in a subtle way, something about the way he'd inhale from his cigarette and sigh the smoke away as he was carefully stacked like a house of cards a top a precariously balanced circle of cut frosted glass framed in black metal.
He loved this café. It was a little cut of Chicago that just seemed to have a French air of philosophy about it. Sometimes he'd pretend he was actually in France, a southern countryside part. While Paris was mysterious and well lit, there was a spectrum of emotions and colours a city lacked. He'd pretend he was there with the person he loved before he'd chuckle at his foolishness and sip the bitter red wine in the fine curved glass in front of him.
He swatted his black beret off his head leaving his hair in a grouping of shattered glass angles and turned the hat over in his hands.
"That sweater looks good on you." His mind is pulled from the void as the chair opposite him rocks with a new person, a person with an enticing trapezoid smile and curly red hair.
He releases a nervous and breathy laugh, embarrassed to be caught in it. "You left it at my place…it was the first thing I grabbed, sorry." Charlie explains, muttering awkwardly and dipping his head from view. An inward groan of blatant want passed through his mind, his hands cupping the base of his wine glass, trying to find something solid again.
"Don't be," his voice breezes across Charlie carelessly. He leans back in his seat trying to catch the attention of a waiter. "You bought it for me when you went to England so your entitled to your share." His last word stretches as he leans further back, his hand outstretched and beckoning a waiter his way.
Charlie shyly watches the lines and curves of the person in front of him as he orderes an accompanying drink. Charlie has decided he'd never get tired of watching him, of drawing him.
Suddenly Charlie is tired though, tired because he feels he knows what's going to happen and the real reason he came here. He's pulling off that damn cream wool sweater with the waved designs and suppresses a small gasp as the air hits him and reminds him of just how cold an August night in Chicago can be. "Here." He's turned it out to the right side before he handed it to the owner. An amused smile watches him. "Take it Steven, I don't want it."
"Don't be stupid. It's cold out." Charlie's eye twitched involuntarily as he listened to the genuinely concerned statement.
"I'm fine. Take the damn sweater." Steven Meeks doesn't move, Charlie could see his juvenile reflection in Steven's glasses, only making him feel further exposed. "Forget this." He doesn't care if Steven hears his bitter muttering or not because he's standing, all of his belongings tucked under one arm as he throws an exact amount of change on the table. A fraction of a groan sounded as he realized the only way out was to walk past a placid Steven but he's off anyway.
It's the hand on the top of his jeans that makes him stop. "Don't be foolish, at least finish your wine," Steven's voice is smooth, controlled and it washes over the tensed Charlie, easing his clenched jaw and tight fists. "There's a special circle in Hell reserved for people who let good alcohol go to waste." A small grin flickers on Charlie's mouth. He used that on Steven a long time ago, back when things made more sense but were still somewhat broken because of Neil.
Steven is patient as he sees Charlie thinking. A gust of wind has Charlie shuddering and automatically that thick wool sweater is in Meeks's free hand and offered to Charlie like a peace treaty.
Charlie knows where to draw the line as he sits back in his chair. "No thanks." He responded casually as Steven shrugged and set it down on the table.
The waiter brings Steven his glass of white wine as they sit and examine each other. "I've been thinking Charlie," Steven leans forward, his eyes catching the light invoking a second of hitched breath from Charlie. He's half tempted to meet him half-way and run his fingers through Steven's much longer hair.
With their Helton days behind them, they were slowly finding their places in the world. Steven had grown his hair in honor of Captain's teaching just as Charlie had diligently gone to school for art. His parents had cut him off and supporting himself through college wasn't the end of the world. He actually liked working in an art gallery, the most interesting people ventured in to examine whatever artwork was up.
"You think too much Meeks." Charlie interjected as Steven paused.
"On the contrary," There was a sharp smile on Steven's mouth. "You over-analyze everything-us." He airily waved a hand between them as Charlie tensed.
"Then maybe you think too little." His eyes are narrowed and he folded his arms, knowing exactly what Steven was talking about.
"I don't love you." Meeks leans in further, his tone hushed and eyes shifty, watching for a glimpse of anyone he may know.
"Because you can't accept what you are," Charlie isn't worried, bitter perhaps but he could careless if anyone was listening. He knew who he was. "You don't want to love me." He's wearing his signature smirk as Meeks hushes him but it much more twisted than it used to be.
"I don't love you." Steven clarifies with a frown over his glasses.
"Then why the hell are you here?" Suddenly Charlie had almost closed the gap between them, taking Meeks with surprise as he hisses venomously. Meeks jerks away as Charlie stares at him, eyes blazing, "Why are you here? It's because you want something and I'm the only person you want it from." Charlie retreats back into his chair, his arms hugging his chest again as Steven now seems more like the boy he knew in high school.
Charlie couldn't help but think and wonder what the hell happened? What had he done to turn Meeks into someone so flighty and scared? It was never like this before college, the sixties were all about revolution, acceptance, peace and sex-why was this so difficult for the intelligent Mr. Meeks?
Because he's scared.
Charlie didn't know where that thought came from but as he looked over at Steven staring at his hands in his lap, maybe, maybe it was true. Charlie watched Steven silently removed his glasses and rub his eyes, an action that always took a toll on Charlie. He sighed, glaring up at the answerless sky before looking to Steven. "Free tonight?" He asked, voice soft and immediately eliciting Steven's attention.
"Why?" He sounds nervous but tries to mask it as Charlie stands and throws some extra money on the table.
"C'mon," He inclines his head to the exit as he looks down at Steven's soft freckled face. "You wanna get out of here?" He smirks smugly, his high school persona appearing in his face.
Steven nods and follows Charlie out into the night. They walk alongside each other in the middle of deserted roads. Charlie kicks at stray pebbles, asking about Steven and how he's been in the two weeks they haven't seen each other. Steven's responses are concise and thoughtful as their conversation turns to Charlie and pretty soon their coyly flirting as they bathe in orange streetlight.
At one point, not too far from Charlie' apartment, Steven stops walking in a puddle of orange light and stares ahead. Charlie figures that something profound is about to be said so he makes himself comfortable by leaning on the forest green lamppost. He's never minded waiting for Meeks-that was half of the problem.
"Charlie," Steven breathes as he advances towards him. Charlie is trying to keep calm, the sweater his hanging in the arm his has looped into his pocket and he's leaning in a jaunty smug angle against the bar texture of the lamp light. His heart is thudding loudly; increasing its rhythm as Steven cautiously slides his hands up the thin, mushroom coloured fabric of Charlie's t-shirt. One arm is around Charlie's neck and his other hand his cupping the back of his head and Steven is looking up at him with an expression that asks if this is okay.
Charlie swallows and his tongue flicks out to wet his lips as he stares into Steven's eyes, making no other move.
They're kissing. Meeks has tipped Charlie's head down just enough as he presses into him. Charlie has shut his eyes and curses the lamppost digging into his back but tries to ignore it because he's in love.
The sweater hits the ground with a light moth sound and Charlie's arms are around Steven's waist, squeezing him firmly as the redhead releases a small surprised noise.
Their kisses are desperate and constant. Steven doesn't want to stop because Charlie's right, he really does want this and Charlie is the only person who could ever give it to him. Charlie doesn't want to let go because he doesn't know how long it'll be until Steven comes back. His throat is aching with the desire to confess just how damn much he loves him as he continues kissing Steven's hot mouth. He's never said it before; too scared of what would happen.
And yet part of him wants to know. "Meeks," He still grips him tight as Charlie looks directly into his freckled face. "Why do we keep doing this?" As Steven's brow furrows, Charlie knows he's potentially ruined his chances tonight as Steven sighs.
"Later, Charlie," He leans up to kiss Charlie, his eyes closing as he whispers, "Later…"
"No!" Charlie growls irritated, he grips Steven's biceps as their breath mingles in temporary clouds. Steven's eyes are wide in momentary surprise as Charlie continues. "Now Steven! I'm-I'm…I'm sick of your bullshit!" There's a short pause as Charlie inhales the night air, cooling his insides. "You need to make up your mind Meeks, you can't keep stringing me a long for the ride." This had been going on for too long.
Their senior year held so much promise, like they were really together and then everything fell through with death and expulsion-two years they've messed around. Charlie has always been so patient; hoping that one day, they'd cement their one-night stands and then long weeks without seeing each other.
When Steven doesn't reply Charlie swears he could throttle him. His hands drop from Steven's arms and they regard each other silently before Charlie takes a step in, his hands on Steven's face and his kisses are light and teasing on Steven's mouth. "You have to stop doing this." He murmurs between kisses and Meeks is melting into his hands with soft noises of want.
"Can't." Steven confesses in a small whine as Charlie freezes and growls.
"We'll see about that." Now he's dragging Steven to his apartment, ignoring his questions and worry and never lets go of Steven's wrist because tonight Charlie has decided he's going to make Steven his if it's the last thing he ever does.
Inside the apartment, Charlie slams the door and drags Steven back towards the bedroom. They don't even make it past the bathroom before Charlie shoves Steven up against the wall, and tells him that he's stupid, you're so fucking stupid, Steven. Steven doesn't know why he's stupid, but he knows he's scared because he's never seen Charlie with an emotion this intense coming out of him in his direction. He can barely kiss back when Charlie's lips press against his because it's not even a kiss, it's tongue and teeth and lips that are there for a few seconds before they're gone. Charlie's lips are at the side of Steven's neck, high enough up that a shirt collar won't hide the bruise he's making a point of putting there.
Charlie's teeth hurt as he bites and Steven whimpers, struggling half-heartedly against him. "Ow. Ow, Charlie. Charlie, you're hurting me." Meeks says, whining but it really doesn't matter in the least because Charlie wants and cares too much to stop.
"You're mine, Steven. You're mine." Charlie growls, his breath hot against Steven's neck and he stops squirming so he can hear the words that are coming out in a desperate hiss. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to go come and go as you fucking please anymore because you're scared and are having problems with figuring out who the fuck you really are. You're mine and I'm not letting you run away anymore. Do you hear me?"
"Y-yes." His voice is too thin and he swallows nervously, his voice firmer when he tries again, "Yes, I hear you."
"You've always been mine." Charlie nudges Steven's legs apart, pressing his thigh up, smiling when Steven groans at the pressure. "You'll always be mine." And then Charlie's tongue is pressing gently against the bruise he's marked Steven's neck with, kissing it and he's releasing his grip on Steven's arms, hands coming down to rub at Steven's sides before they're sliding down Steven's back and lifting the hem of his vest and shirt off.
After his bare torso is revealed, Steven wraps his arms around Charlie's neck, letting Charlie lift him up, pressing kisses to Charlie's face in a silent apology as they make the short trip to the bedroom, obeying when Charlie tells him to let go and is dropped unceremoniously onto the bed.
Charlie crawls over him and holds Steven's wrists down as he kisses him and Steven moans into Charlie's mouth. "God Charlie!" Charlie smirks, it sounds almost blasphemous as Steven cries out helplessly. "Do something, please!"
Charlie sits up, straddling a panting Steven with a dark expression. "You're going to have to beg for it tonight Steven." Charlie hasn't decided if he's sincere are joking but he sounds serious enough as Steven bites at his lower lip nervously. Charlie worries if he's gone to far but soon he hears Steven mumbling something as he looks away. "What was that?"
Steven squirms uncomfortably for a second as he still looks to the side. "Please, please fuck me Charlie…"
And Charlie's mouth is open in awe before he's hesitating. "I was…kind of joking-" He muttered bashfully.
"Well I'm kind of hard and kind of not-please Charlie, for the love of G-" Charlie is never asked twice. He's kissing Steven again, smiling as he feels fingers in his hair and his fighting with Meeks's thin belt and his buttons. You better fucking be here in the morning.
It's a slow, tumbling night as they move together in a disarray of lips and limbs as Charlie tries his best to make sure Steven will never forget this. Some tears are shed as they rock together and hold tight, both of them trembling in the final throes as Steven bites down on Charlie's shoulder, melting into gasps and Charlie moans into Steven's neck. They're quiet for a time before confessions are whispered: I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry-
It doesn't matter, I love you
…I love you too.
Charlie's sure that there's no better feeling in the world than waking up with Steven cradled into his chest.
