He loves you
Desmond / Charlie slash
It didn't take long for Charlie to coax Desmond into his tent. Inebriated people can be so trusting…and clumsy.
"Whoa, Des, look out it's not like guitars grow on this island," Charlie scolded as Desmond tripped backwards over it and fell with a thud and an "oomph". On his back, feet kicked out in front, leaning against the makeshift bed Charlie slept on, he closed his eyes and began to enter a world of dreams, far from the island, where…
"Des! Desmond, come on work with me here," frustrated at trying to put the drunken Scott to bed, Charlie lifted Desmond's feet and attempted to heave his lower half onto the bed as well. Desmond wasn't a lot bigger than Charlie, but was surprised at how easily Charlie could maneuver him. He was so smart. Is smart the right word? No…strong. "That's what I get, I guess," Charlie said with a smirk "for trying to help you."
"Chaaarlie," said Desmond in a singsong voice, causing his friend to kneel over the mattress to hear him, "Chaaaaaarlie"
"You're not two mate, you're not even twenty, so give that little kid shit a rest," said Charlie, but he laughed anyway, an unassuming little chuckle that was almost as childish as Desmond's singing.
"I like you, brother"
"Oh bullocks," Charlie laughed harder, preparing to leave, but stopped short when Desmond made a grab for his right arm, "Stop it, mate. Come on, snap out of it." But Desmond was already pulling Charlie down onto the mattress beside him.
They were both suddenly serious. Desmond in that way that drunk people can get when they turn 360 from dancing on a table to puking in an alley. Their faces were inches apart and in the darkness, Charlie could see beads of sweat on the other man's face. He could feel his warm, slightly stinky, breath on his face.
"You're not going to throw up on me, are you?"
Desmond let out an exasperated sigh and snaked his free arm around Charlie's shoulders. Charlie was quiet, almost catatonic, suddenly, and tense, like a corpse. He smelled like salt and sand and sweat. Desmond tentatively pressed his lips against Charlie's mouth and waited to be pushed away and berated for his actions, but he wasn't.
With no response from Charlie, Desmond fumbled closer still until he was right on top of him, which is when Charlie decided to panic.
Charlie kicked his legs in a scissor motion that only wounded up knocking Desmond's arms out from under him. Now there was nothing between them. "Desmond!" choked Charlie, "Stop it…you're drunk…you're mental! I have to go. Claire will be wondering where I am."
"That's all you know," said Desmond, but still refused to let Charlie leave. His body literally encased the boy under him and their limbs were a tangled mess. Desmond viciously resumed his kissing.
Charlie's complaints quickly became less stressed…less convincing until he gave into Desmond entirely.
"Charlie," said Desmond in between kisses, adoringly, shyly.
"Desmond," confirmed Charlie, willingly, reverently.