Author's Note: So yeah...I don't know exactly how I feel about this one-shot, but I thought I'd post it anyway. It's short, so in the future if I feel the urge to expand upon this I just might...and now that I typed that I can see a story forming in the back of my mind...oh dear. Anyway! Hope you enjoy, and if you don't, well...sorry for wasting your time? :D
Disclaimer: Charlie Dalton and Steven Meeks do not belong to me...
Steven Meeks is tucked comfortably in bed with his wife, Charlotte. She's slumbering on his chest, but he's just staring out the window at the moon. He's barely twenty-one, but he's already been married six months, because, according to his family, that's the practical thing to do. He's married to a woman that certainly doesn't fill the void in Steven's heart. The void that only he could fill.
But Steven can't say anything. He's married now, and at the rate Charlotte's moods are fluctuating, he's probably soon going to be a father as well. His job would be pulled from under his feet because his boss is a fucking homophobe, and in the end his confession would only bring him more pain.
Because most importantly of all: Charlie is straight.
Charlie Dalton groans and squeezes his eyes tightly shut before entering her from behind and shuddering. Whenever they have sex, excluding the very first time they hooked up, he insists they do it this way. She whined about it not being intimate at first, but once Charlie explained how it's more pleasurable for the girl she shut her mouth and accepted it.
The tiny moans and gasps that she allows to drip from her mouth like sweet honey are only sweet because Charlie is imagining she's someone else. A polar opposite of her, literally and figuratively. He presses kisses over her back, hoping for more noises confirming the pleasure he knows he gives her, wishing that it wasn't her he was fucking. He wraps one arm around her waist, holding her steady so he can deliver with each thrust, using his other hand to help support him.
When they're finished, Charlie holds her aloft for just a second before releasing her and letting her drop the few inches between her and the mattress, landing with a creak of springs. He pulls out of her and tosses the condom into the trashcan beside his bed. He flops down beside her on his back and stares longingly up at the ceiling, feeling empty. He tries to pretend she isn't who she is when she snuggles against him but it's hard; because Steven Meeks doesn't have breasts.
Charlie sighs, letting his eyelids droop as he runs his hand through the girl's curly hair. It's the exact texture of Steven's. Charlie knows this because of how many times he's playfully ruffled the bespectacled boy's head.
It kills Charlie inside not to let his true feelings out, however cheesy that may sound. He can feel Nuwanda retreating within him more and more each day as he keeps this secret inside. But he can't tell.
Because his dad would disown him.
Because society would shun him.
And most importantly: because Steven is straight. So what good would it do?
Author's Note: Told you it was short. Reviews are awesome, and you people are awesome; so really, you and reviews go hand in hand!