More man-angst with Bryce Larkin, not an accountant. And because I love the thought of Chuck and Bryce making out on Chuck's bed at Ellie's place (specific kink? I know), this made its way to be read by the internet. I don't own as always :D

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Turn of the Century (it was love)

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He doesn't know if he is right, he only knows he isn't entirely wrong. And neither of these things is quite in sync with the other, and yet, he is still trying to maintain that he knows better.

"You and Jill."

They are in the dark of Chuck's bedroom. And for someone who has always had trouble with rambling, Chuck is painfully straightforward with him. Bryce won't show it, but it only hurts that much more when the one thing Chuck wants to know, really know, is about a girl who readily betrays him once she gets too deep.

Except he has been just as deep if not worse, so he knows. She never had to do a thing that she did. There is a way.

"If she really matters all that much. I'll make it up to you."

(He doesn't tell him that it's a lie. That he never even bothers with the rest of the student body, let alone Jill, after he has a hand in kicking Chuck out of Stanford, hasn't even known she made up that lie to break his heart all over again, not until graduation when it is clear neither of them are simple graduate students.)

There is no break in his voice, nothing to indicate otherwise when he pushes him back onto the bed with a firm hand to his chest. Bryce has his head lowered, hair falling to hide his eyes and Chuck doesn't quite put it together until Bryce is working off his belt, undoing the button of his jeans and stepping out of them.

"Wait, what—Bry—Bryce!" Chuck hisses with wide eyes in the near-silence of the room, scared that any louder and Ellie and Awesome in the room down the hall will hear. And the last thing he needs is his sister and her fiancé coming into his room to find Bryce Larkin (a supposedly dead Bryce Larkin at that too) in nothing more than a thin t-shirt and his underwear standing in front of her little brother. "What're you doing? Oh my god, why are you stripping?"

Chuck reaches out in a panic, just in time to stop Bryce's hand from yanking off his briefs as well.

And he is trying his best not to stare (he is only male and that is only his ex-roommate, ex-best friend, ex-a whole array of other things that he can't think about, not when that exact I-thought-you-were-dead!Bryce is very much alive and standing half naked in front of him like it's laundry day at Stanford.)

"Like I said, I'm sorry for what I did. I'll make it up to you." There is exasperation in the way his tone mouths the words but he still isn't looking at Chuck. Instead, he is tugging his hand from Chuck's to push him back on the bed once again.

Only this time, he isn't pulling off his underwear, he is moving to straddle Chuck's lap.

And that's both worse and better all at once.

Chuck swallows thickly and struggles with where to put his hands.

"Uh… Bryce?"

"I'm not sorry for what I did to keep you out, I'm just sorry for dragging you in with the Intersect." He is a breath away from him, his hands clenching a death grip into the lapel of Chuck's shirt like letting go isn't an option, like Chuck is the only reason why he hasn't spiralled into a cycle of self-destruction. "You don't deserve this."

And just when Chuck thinks Bryce is going to kiss him, that or strangle him with his bare hands, Bryce freezes on his words, blue eyes wide.

He lets go of Chuck's shirt like it burns and ducks his head down just as fast. And he nearly makes it out of Chuck's lap before Chuck wraps a hand around his waist and another around his wrist to tug him back.

"Chuck, what are you—"

"What are you doing, Bryce?" Chuck lets out in frustration and he would be pulling at his hair if he doesn't have both hands occupied with keeping Bryce from running.

"You don't deserve this."

Bryce repeats himself with a hollow echo and it is hard to hide the despair in the way his voice wraps around those words, hard to hide anything from Chuck when he is this close and still holding on to him so tight.

"Yeah, I don't." Chuck scoffs and nearly bites his tongue at the sight of Bryce flinching at those words. "But that didn't exactly stop you from getting me kicked out or sending me that horrible excuse of a birthday email. You ruined my life."

"I saved you too."

And it's a weak protest at most, they know that much too well. Not when he is the one reason that put him in the face of all those life or death situations in the first place. But that is another sorry for another time. Another deed forgiven before he needs to ask.

"You got yourself killed twice. Bryce." Chuck's fingers can't help but clench down, like he can stop the other from dying from sheer force alone. And Bryce's shoulders slump in defeat, frown thin over his lips. "Casey doesn't like me very much."

"Sarah thought you were dead."

"I had to convince everyone."

"…She loves you."

Bryce tenses.

"I," he looks like he wants to run again and Chuck can't help but tighten his grip in reflex, pressing him closer. And there's a near silent sigh of resignation before a soft confession makes its way into the space between them, "everyone else is—it's always been you, Chuck."

But it's an even softer press of lips when Chuck pulls Bryce in, a silent I know in the way he opens up to him.

XXX Kuro

Sorry for the lack of the actual making out part.