The first time, Charlie kissed Adam. Drunk on cheap booze and fear, staggering around someone's backyard, until a laughing Adam caught him and Charlie held on with desperation. He'd been waiting, worrying, wondering for too long, and years of hard earned victory had taught him never to ask what if. He leant in slowly, the edges of the world a scattered mess, just the two of them and nothing, nothing, nothing. It was everything.
The second time, Adam kissed Charlie. Charlie pinned against their bedroom door, Adam so close their noses brushed, their hot heavy breaths dancing circles around the other. Charlie waited patiently, gaze drawing a line from Adam's eyes to his mouth, inviting him in. It was slow and sober, sobering; it was hesitant. A feather touch of lips, and then another and then Adam took Charlie's mouth whole, like a gift, pulling Charlie to him and taking claim to what was his.
The third and fourth and fifth and all those after were the start of something new. Something big. They sat together in class and studied together after, their knees, thighs, elbows touching and their lips drawn out in secret smiles. They would arrive at training together, catching up on the good news, the bad news, the in-between, and would stave off questions from their fellow Ducks. Sometimes they would get lost on the way, Charlie taking a wrong turn, leading them down an abandoned hall, bringing Adam close to him and kissing like it was life.
They lay together one night, limbs tangled up and bodies tied as one, and they kiss - kiss number who-knows-what, but it's still as it always was, still exciting, still the only thing that completes them. And the kiss might never break until it does, until a shot of light from the hallway outside pools over them, unveils them, throws them into focus.
They're groggy on lust and need and can't think to move away quickly, talk their way out of it, explain to Guy and Connie and Goldberg why they're here and what it means and that they shouldn't worry and it doesn't matter because it does matter, because they're in love.
Their friends disappear and they don't pull apart and they hold on, hold on, hold tight. This won't break them, it won't break the Ducks, they'll fight through it.
They kiss.