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Cameron is slowly nursing his beer as he idly listens to Neil and Meeks gossiping about some workplace drama across the table from him. He isn't overly interested, but it is a better conversation than the one further on down the table. He has been receiving too many of Knox’s tales about his supposed conquests to want to hear another one. He is feeling restless, and he had hoped that his drink of choice would help, but it's not. Charlie, the original one to join their Welton-graduate group of friends with Neil, is running late. Which is not overly unusual for him - punctual is not a word he was ever taught the meaning of - but he had told them all that he would be down at the pub nearly three-quarters of an hour ago, and Cameron seems to be the only one even mildly curious about that. He wouldn't say concerned, he just knows that Charlie has a nasty habit of accidentally stumbling headfirst into trouble, and he just wants to know that he is alright. Okay, so maybe he's a little concerned.
Raucous laughter erupts from the other end of the table and Cameron flicks an uninterested look their way before inevitably letting his eyes drift back to the door. He absolutely had not positioned himself to perfectly see the entrance so he would know exactly when Charlie arrived. Of course not.
“Cam”, Neil’s voice cuts into his idling thoughts, “Charlie will be here soon. The least you could do is at least pretend to be enjoying yourself until he finally arrives”. He appreciates the way Neil hasn’t slipped up in the eight months since he finally changed his name from Richard Cameron to Cameron Richardson. What better way to not be so close to a shitty father. The rest of the poets have mostly slipped up on occasion, calling him Richie, or in Charlie’s case, Dick. He's pretty sure that the last one wasn't accidental.
Cameron can immediately feel his cheeks flush red at what he is implying and tries to hide it by scowling at him. “I think I might actually be having more fun without him here. There’s a much lower chance of someone spilling their drink in my lap with him absent”.
That much was unfortunately true. Charlie could be clumsy, and it was apparent when he was drinking, it became even. He was constantly moving limbs and anything in his vicinity was in danger of getting tipped over. Cameron wanted to be able to still find it irritating, but unfortunately he did not. In fact, he found the man’s bashful expressions and reddened ears after the fact terribly endearing. Not that he would ever admit as such. To do so would only give the others, and Neil in particular, way too much ammunition. They would tease him of having a crush on his new friend, and that was just ridiculous. Cameron Richardson did not get crushes on people.
The bell above the door rings loudly as the door gets pulled open, and Cameron’s attention snaps to the doorway instantly, much to the obvious amusement of the harpy sitting across from him. He can hear him chuckling with Meeks, and ensures his scowl stays on his face permanently to show his disapproval of what they are both undoubtedly thinking. Cameron did not like Charlie. Not like that anyway.
The scowl on his face melts away, however, as he does indeed catch sight of Charlie coming in through the now-opened door. He looks the polar opposite of how he usually does. On a normal day, Charlie has an almost annoying spring to his step. His smirking grin is always fixed permanently on his face and his honey eyes are always sparkling with life and whatever good vibes the man always seems to exude. Cameron has never seen Charlie in anything short of a fantastic mood except for the four times Mr Nolan had paddled him in their years at Welton Academy. It’s a great thing the son of a bitch died. Right now, though, is an entirely different story. The Charlie Dalton slowly approaching their table at the current moment has slumped shoulders. His steps are lacking the bounce they usually have, and even his hair looks dull and flat. The closer he gets, the more Cameron is able to notice, like the drab brown of his eyes and the tight line of his usually smirking mouth.
Cameron’s lips part involuntarily like he is readying to speak even though he has no idea what it is he wants to say, but Charlie beats him to it.
“Hey, guys”. He says tonelessly as he lifts a hand to wave at them half-heartedly. His emotionless, monotone voice only serves to make Cameron sit up straighter, heart racing just a little in his chest. Something is blatantly wrong, and Cameron is overcome with the sudden and overwhelming need to reach out and try to make it all better again. So, maybe he's more than just a little concerned.
“Ah! Charlie”, Knox’s overly friendly voice calls from the far end of the table, “You made it. We were beginning to think you’d bailed on us”.
The wan, barely there smile that Charlie offers his friend pulls the knot of worry already forming in Cameron’s chest tight. He watches Charlie fully approach the table, waits as his eyes flick over the available seats before settling on the one next to Cameron. An involuntary flutter fills his chest as Charlie makes his way over and sits down. ‘He did not like Charlie, he did not like Charlie. The words repeat like a mantra in the ginger’s head as he madly stamps down on the feeling growing in his chest oh-so-steadily.
“D’you want a drink?”, Cameron asks as Charlie gets settled next to him, “I’ll buy your first round”. Charlie narrows his eyes as he studies Cameron closely.
“That’s quite nice of you. What brought on this sudden charity?”.
Cameron scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I woke up this morning and felt a burning need to help the less-fortunate. Do you want it, or shall I pass my good vibes on to someone more agreeable?”.
There’s a pause as Charlie continues to just look at him. Cameron is acutely aware of both Meeks and Neil watching them from across the table. He tries not to squirm under everyone's watchful eyes. His oldest friends stare especially feels overbearing like they were somehow stripping him bare to get at what was underneath. In this case, his inner thoughts, and he is relatively sure he does not want Neil gaining access to those. Silently, he begs Charlie to hurry up.
“Alright, fine”. Charlie finally replies, after what feels like an eternity. Cameron tries not to let his shoulders sag in relief. “In that case, I’ll have what you’re having”.
Cameron’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. Charlie was known in the group for being the one who always ordered the fruity beverages, the drinks that men all around the world labelled as “girly drinks”, but secretly wished they could order and enjoy. In the time that Cameron has known Charlie (all thirteen years.), he has only ever seen the man heavily drink once, and that was when he’d been disinherited. Whatever was bothering him now must truly be serious if he was skipping the drinks he normally enjoys to instead jump straight to the beer he “can’t believe Mr Richie can even drink”.
“Is everything all right?”. He can’t help but ask. Charlie looks away and sighs heavily.
“Get a drink in me first, then I’ll speak”. He replies wearily, reaching up both hands to scrub tiredly at his face. Cameron nods wordlessly, obediently rising to his feet. As he leaves the table, he feels a pair of eyes burning into his back, but doesn’t let himself turn around to see who they belong to.
The blonde behind the bar zeros in on his approach to the bar almost immediately, and is there waiting for him when he gets there. She smiles at him, all white, dazzling teeth, and leans on the counter top to try to show off her low cut blouse. Her eyes respectfully stay above his waistline, but her intentions and desires are all too clear from her body language. Cameron, however, pays none of it any mind, his thoughts still stuck fast on what could be bringing Charlie down so low.
“Want another one?”. The woman asks, having already picked him out of the crowd tonight to try to woo. He would almost feel bad for her if he actually noticed her attempt to impress him.
“Yes, please, and one for my friend, too. He just came in”. He tells her with a polite smile. She instantly stands up straight, her smile turning polite and professional. The change almost gives Cameron whiplash.
“Of course. Coming right up sir”. She says, turning away to ready his order. Turning his back to the bar, he leans against it, eyes once again settling on Charlie. He’s at least talking now, to Todd and, by extension, Neil, but he is clearly lacking his usual enthusiasm. Where one can normally read his moods by his expression alone, now he looks almost vacant. “He seems pretty down tonight”. The woman says behind him suddenly, causing Cameron to startle a bit. He turns back around to look at her.
“Who does?”. He asks. She nods towards his table.
“Your friend”, she responds, heavily implying something more by the way she inflects the word friend, “I hope you manage to cheer him up, though I don’t recommend too many of these to cheer the guy up”. She pushes the two glasses full of amber liquid and ice towards him.
“No”, Cameron says distractedly, “I don’t either”. He pulls out his wallet, tosses a few bills on the counter, then pockets it again before grabbing both glasses. “Keep the change. Thanks”.
Weaving his way back to their table, he gently sets both glasses down. He pushes one towards Charlie, eyebrows jumping in surprise for the second time that night when the brunette grabs it and downs it all in one go. Without a second thought, he pushes the other towards the man as well.
“You obviously need this more than I do”. He says when Charlie gives him a confused look. The look softens into a small, grateful smile, however, at Cameron’s explanation, and he takes the other glass, looking equal parts thankful and bashful. “Now”, Cameron continues as he takes his seat again, “I believe you owe me an explanation. You have a drink in you, so tell me, what's wrong?”.
Charlie cups both hands around the cool glass, staring down into its contents as he chews on his lower lip. Cameron finds the action terribly distracting and has an extremely difficult time tearing his eyes away from the man’s overly plush mouth. When he does finally manage it, it’s to find Pitts openly smirking at him. He glares at him and looks back to Charlie, this time keeping his gaze fixed just generally on his friend’s face instead of just one part. ‘He did not like Charlie’.
“My landlord increased the price he wants for my rent”. Charlie finally says, eyes downcast. Cameron frowns.
“I thought you said he already put it up recently, within the last year, and you could barely afford to pay the new price?”. Cameron says, to which Charlie winces.
“He did”. Charlie admits dejectedly. He lifts his glass to his lips and takes another sip.
“So how are you…”. Cameron drags his sentence off, unsure how to word it without making his friends call him insensitive.
Without looking up, Charlie says, “I’m not. I have to be out by the end of the month”.
“End of the month?!”. Cameron blurts out, much louder than he had intended. He couldn’t really help it, it was just that, that didn’t give Charlie a lot of time to find somewhere new to live, and with prices for apartments everywhere in the city going up continuously these days, he would be hard pressed to find one cheaper than where he was already. “Charlie, that’s less than a week away”. Instead of responding, Charlie lifts the glass back up to his lips and drains it as well. He sets the empty glass back down and gives Cameron’s half-full glass a sideways look. Cameron moves it a little farther away. Two full drinks was all his friend really needed in him.
While Cameron is still busy processing this new information and figuring out what to do with it, Meeks pipes up, “Have you found a new place to stay yet?”.
“No”. Charlie groans, hiding his face in his hands, and it’s all so... almost pitiful that Cameron actually feels his chest squeeze tighter around his heart and lungs. “I don’t know what to do. I was late today because I was talking to him, hoping he would cut me some slack, but he’s already been lenient with me getting my rent money to him late over the past several months. He called me a “liability” and turned me down”.
“A liability?”, Cameron splutters, “Oh, I’ll show him a liability, the dick”. He tells himself that his suddenly flared temper is because he has always been protective of his friends, and not because it is Charlie in particular who is currently having difficulties.
His temper cools instantly, like pouring ice water over a flame, when Todd says, “Well, that solution is quite obvious, isn’t it? You need a place to live, Cam has a second bedroom in his flat that he isn’t using, not even as an office or a store room. You’re both good mates. Why not just move in with him?”.
He turns a convincingly innocent look his way, but Cameron isn’t fooled. He can read Todd’s conniving schemes underneath, and he certainly does not trust him or his motives. Besides, he knew damn well why Cameron did not have a roommate in his second bedroom, why he had avoided having a roommate at Welton, and his entire life since graduating from Welton and moving away from his father’s ranch on the outskirts of the city.
Ever since he was old enough to find education overwhelming, Cameron had sought comfort in plush animals. He had always been self-conscious of it, and it had been the prime reason he had avoided having friends over in his youth. He knew that he would only give them material with which to tease him, so he had simply avoided the situation. When he had finally decided on a career path and went back to school to further his education, he had opted for the more expensive solo suites in the campus dorm buildings funded by his grandfather, and when he had fully moved out on his own he had become so used to being on his own that he had simply never bothered with a roommate. It was probably better nobody saw him in the middle of the night on his couch, hands fiddling with a plush cow to self regulate.
Until now, with Todd staring at him expectantly, the rest of the table was now invested in their conversation, and Charlie looking at him with such hope in his eyes that he cannot even think to let him down. But he has to, doesn't he? The mere thought alone of having Charlie occupying his space makes him feel short of breath. Sitting across the table from each other in the morning. Sitting on the couch and watching Netflix together after a long day at work. Knowing that his friend was always just across the hall every night. What if he did something in his stress-induced ‘blackout’, like openly have his stuffed animals where Charlie could see them, holding one and not being able to say it was for his niece? He can almost feel his brain shortcircuit at that particular thought. The words ‘He didn’t like Charlie’ are suddenly becoming less and less believable by the minute.
“Come on, Boots!”, Knox goads him from down the table, “Don’t leave us all in suspense. Are you letting our lovely Dalton live with you or not?”.
Cameron’s lips part slightly as he inhales slowly. He could feel the heat of everyone’s eyes on him, waiting for his response, but none were as burning as Charlie’s. The man is staring at him hopefully, as if his every dream is now riding on what Cameron has to say. And they very well might be.
“Yes, I suppose we can try it out, so long as we don’t try to kill each other”. He finally relents. Todd smirks in a much too self-satisfied way. He exchanges a significant look with the others down the table, but Cameron can hardly focus on that. Not with the way Charlie is grinning at him, leaning closer to throw his arms around him, cuddling close in a warm embrace and all but burying his face in Cameron’s neck.
“Thank you, Cam. You have no idea what this means to me”. Charlie murmurs and Cameron can feel the puff of each word spoken against his freckled skin. Goosebumps erupt over his neck and chest, and a flurry of rogue butterflies swarm his belly.
And he knows, in this one single moment, that he is fucked, because maybe, just maybe, he did have a crush on Charlie.
----- -----
The following weekend, Cameron’s normally orderly and quiet apartment much more resembles the aftermath of a natural disaster. Boxes and bags are piled everywhere, Neil is helping Charlie unpack, Pitts is in charge of bringing up any of Charlie’s heavier items, Todd is over-seeing things to make sure nothing gets broken, and Knox has left the chaos to help Charlie and Meeks organise the new furniture in Cameron’s spare room. Well, Charlie's room, now.
Cameron is standing off to the side, out of the way, watching his once solo space become inhabited by another person, by the chaotic one of the group. He had been nervous for today all week, and now that it was here, he could feel his stomach knotting up, then relaxing, then clenching back up again. After today, everything was going to change, and he still wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not. He had been comfortable with the way things were before. He had been happy. He doesn’t know what to do with all this. It’s all unfamiliar territory for him, and the buzzing in his veins, the thump of his heart every time he looked in Charlie’s direction is certainly not helping.
Charlie, as if sensing Cameron’s thoughts, looks up and catches his gaze. He looks happy again, relaxed and carefree, just like Cameron has always known him to be. Gone is the apprehension he had shown that night in the bar. In its place is something that Cameron can really only label as excitement, which really only makes Cameron confused. He had always disliked change. He had never viewed it as a new adventure like Charlie does. Change was usually uncomfortable, intimidating, something to avoid when one could. But now, for better or for worse, change was knocking on his proverbial front door. It was smiling softly at him from across the room and making heat flare out across his skin.
The day passes in a blur of activity, and by the end, he feels nearly breathless. One by one, their friends all leave. Both Neil and Knox give him very suggesting smiles (though Cameron is sure they each mean them in slightly different ways). And then they’re alone. The clock on the wall above the television ticks away the seconds quietly, the fridge hums softly in the background, and in Cameron’s head are the same two words on repeat. ‘Now what?’
“Do you want a Coke?”, Charlie asks, “I’m sure Meeks left at least a couple behind”. He glances over at the fridge. Their fridge, now.
Cameron nods. “Sure, something cold to drink would be nice”.
The grin that has been fixed on Charlie’s lips since Cameron had agreed to let him move in is still present as he walks into the kitchen, pulls open the fridge, and rummages around for a moment. When he straightens back up, it’s with two cans clutched precariously in one hand. Cameron winces slightly, as he envisions one, or both, of them plummeting to the floor and creating a sugary, sticky mess. Long gone are the days now when Cameron’s apartment was always spotlessly clean.
“Here”. Charlie passes him one as he sits down on the sofa beside him. The action makes Cameron’s stomach flip and his hands shake just a bit as he pops the tab on the can and lifts it to his mouth to take a good, long drink. As he lowers his hand down to his lap, he glances sideways at Charlie, only to find his friend quickly looking away, the tips of his ears a little flushed. Interesting.
The clock on the wall continues to tick away as they enjoy their beverages in silence, reminding Cameron that the time for them both to disappear into their respective rooms and sleep is fast approaching. And with that comes a potential problem. Did he tell Charlie about his stuffed animals, or did he simply ask that Charlie does not enter his bedroom ever unless given explicit permission? Which option brought with it the least amount of chance for teasing? Or worse yet, making things terribly awkward between them?
Movement beside him makes him look over, and he catches the tail end of Charlie stretching and standing. “Well”, the man says, “It’s been a long day and I’m beat. I think I’m going to call it a night”.
And this is it, Cameron’s chance to confess the one thing about himself that he has never told anyone. He opens his mouth slightly, preparing to say the words, but nothing comes out. They lodge in his throat, unwilling to be brought out into the open where they can’t be taken back. He isn’t sure if it's shame, or fear, or embarrassment that holds him back, but whatever it is, it has his throat stuck fast.
“Goodnight, Cameron. Thanks again, for letting me move in. I know you like your space, so I appreciate you welcoming me in on such short notice let alone at all”. Charlie says when Cameron fails to say anything.
Cameron’s returning smile feels a little forced. “It’s no problem, Dalty boy. I’m happy to have you”.
‘A little too happy’. His brain reminds him as his stomach squirms pleasantly at Charlie’s smile. It’s small, but genuine, lighting up his eyes in a way that his usual smiles don’t do. Sure, his eyes usually crinkle into little half-moons when he smiles big enough instead of his cocky smirks and grins, but this... this is somehow different. This is more a feeling in Cameron’s chest than an actual look on Charlie’s face. It, too, is new and unfamiliar, and it makes Cameron’s heart race a little too fast.
“Goodnight, Charlie”. He says quietly, softly. For a moment, Charlie stays, their eyes locked, but then he nods and slowly turns away. Cameron holds his breath until his friend is out of sight, his belly doing weird things as he listens to Charlie’s retreating footsteps before his bedroom door closes.
Groaning, Cameron leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. Suddenly, Neil’s smug smirks and significant looks makes a lot more sense, along with Knox’s. Cameron Richardson officially had a crush.
----- -----
For five weeks, they keep the status quo. They do indeed share breakfast across the table from one another. They sit together most evenings to watch something on the large television Cameron has, but up till Charlie moved in was really rarely used. They talk and laugh and share stories and frustrations about their days. They go out to meet their group of friends at the bar and leave together afterward to walk home. They are the best and worst five weeks of Cameron’s life.
With every passing day, Cameron realises just a little more that he has actually been head over heels for Charlie practically since meeting him all those years ago, before he even knew he was gay. Todd setting this whole living arrangement up was no pure coincidence. It had been carefully planned and executed. No doubt the Anderson-Perry household’s grand attempt at making him see the truth that doubtlessly everyone else he knew was already aware of. But it is torture. Seeing Charlie fresh out of the shower, or tired and groggy in the morning. His favourite is Charlie on the weekends when he has nowhere to be and can simply come out of his room all sleep-rumpled, hair sticking up everywhere and voice all hoarse and gravelly from not being used all night. It sends shivers up Cameron’s spine that he both loves and curses.
Thankfully, his.. habits at night have gone unnoticed. Which either means they haven't been an issue or Charlie is just kind enough to not say anything about Cameron sitting somewhere random with a children's toy completely zoned out. He still struggles with telling his friend, and now roommate, every night about what he can potentially get up to in his stress-addled mind, but every night, the words fail him. He just can't seem to get them out. ‘Oh, by the way, I find a lot comfort in soft toys - you know what my father was like, so if you see me up in the middle of the night sitting somewhere random and completely out of it, there’s no need to be alarmed’
No. He can’t do it. Besides, it’s been long enough that maybe he’s able to suppress the habit (he most definitely has not), so why bring up something that could be a non-issue? He’ll wait it out, see what happens, and explain later if it becomes an issue. There was no need to address something if Dalton was not even aware of it. Why embarrass himself needlessly when he could just hope his friend never finds out? It was the best course of action now that he knew he liked Charlie and didn’t want to make himself out to be an idiot in front of him.
However, as things have a habit of doing, it all unravels just under two months after Charlie moves in, in the worst (or best) way possible.
Cameron’s day at work is long and exhausting. His father has found his work number and lectures him on three separate occasions, leaving him feeling even less than just inadequate. He contemplates quitting twice, and even drafts up his resignation letter, before thinking better of it. If he quit now, his record would look poor and someone might not want to hire him, leaving them homeless. Charlie wasn’t even paying half the mortgage in their apartment right now. Cameron had known how much his friend was making and lied about the cost because he knew Charlie wouldn’t be able to afford to pay the real amount but that he would refuse to pay anything less. So, instead, he swallows his words, tells his father to go fuck yourself, and then proceeds to work well into the evening to ensure all of his work is caught up (most likely without getting paid for it). Subsequently, when he finally return to the flat, he’s feeling drained, on edge, and more than a little vulnerable. Never a good combination. It’s why he has the plush animals anyways.
Charlie isn’t home when Cameron gets in, and the ginger feels a stab of disappointment. Charlie had a habit of making everyone around him feel better, especially Cameron, and he had been hoping for some of that magic this time. Instead, he has to settle for walking wearily into the kitchen, pulling out a glass, dropping in a ton of ice cubes, and pouring himself some juice. He skips getting something to eat and proceeds directly to the living room where he sits down heavily on the sofa and stares blankly at the dark television screen.
Slowly, he sips his way through his drink, ruminating on his day at work.
Charlie is still not home when Cameron finishes his drink and decides to simply go to bed, instead of pouring himself another, much larger, glass of something alcoholic. He feels oddly alone and bereft in his quiet apartment as he brushes his teeth and changes into his plain white tee-shirt and loose fitting pyjama bottoms. He has grown so accustomed to having Charlie around that now that things are back to the way they were before, albeit only temporarily, he feels wrong, like he’s missing some vital part of himself that he hadn't even known existed before Charlie was around constantly.
It’s with this odd feeling building in his chest that he goes to bed. The last thing he remembers is vaguely wondering where Charlie would possibly be before he slips into a dreamless sleep. He never hears Charlie unlock the main door and slip inside the apartment, nor does he hear him make his way down the hall before ducking into his room and quietly closing the door.
-- -- --
Cameron is cocooned in warmth when he wakes, and enveloped by a very familiar scent that he can't quite place this early in the process of waking up. Keeping his eyes closed, he stretches out his limbs before relaxing and settling back in to sink into the soft mattress below him. It takes him a moment to process the feeling beneath him and frown. His bed was not this soft. He preferred his mattress to be on the firmer side, and he could have sworn last night when he went to bed that it hadn’t felt like lying atop a cloud.
Almost hesitantly, he cracks an eye open. He feels himself relax as he looks around because he knows these walls. He knows them as well as he can for a room he rarely ever went into. At least he hadn’t somehow managed to find his way into a stranger's bed. But then his heart nearly stops as his other eye snaps open as well. Yes, he knew these walls because they were the walls of his flat’s spare room, which was now decidedly not just a spare room. It was Charlie’s bedroom, Charlie’s furniture and belongings, Charlie’s bed he was in, and Charlie’s scent wrapping around him and flooding his senses.
Oh shit!
Twisting around, rather ungracefully. Cameron turns to face the other side of the bed. He futilely hopes that Charlie had never come home last night, that he could slink back to his room with Charlie being none the wiser, but his hopes are dashed when he sees the man himself already sitting up in bed, leaning against the headboard, and looking decidedly troubled. His lower lip is caught between his teeth and there is a wrinkle between his eyebrows that usually isn’t there. Cameron holds his breath as Charlie’s heavy gaze turns to land on him.
Cameron knows he should say something, anything, but his mind is unhelpfully blank. He has never ended up in someone else's bed in his stress-haze-night-walk-free-therapy bullshit. All he can do is stare back, his heart beating where it’s lodged in his throat and his blood roaring in his ears. For a moment, the two of them stay like that, just looking at one another, unspeaking and silent, and Cameron wonders if maybe he’ll get away with it. They will both move on and never speak of the massive elephant in the room, but then Charlie inhales deeply, clearly deciding on his next words and ready to speak them.
“I think I see why you’ve avoided having roommates before. You’ve never talked about roommates in your past, anyway, and Neil has never mentioned it either and you’ve known each other the longest in the group like Meeks and Pittsie. I’m assuming it's because you're self-conscious over the fact that you sometimes kind of sleepwalk? It’s not like… more somewhere right between zoned in and out, with your stuffed cow too”. Charlie says. He doesn’t sound accusing or judging, more like he is now finally connecting a few more dots to create a more accurate image of who his friend is. Cameron can do nothing but nod, just a bit, just once. Charlie’s face immediately softens. “Cam, you could have told me. I would never judge you for something like that”. He sounds sincere, but his eyes... he isn’t saying something, and Cameron is almost too afraid to ask.
Still, he needs to know, out of morbid curiosity than anything else, so very reluctantly he asks, “There’s something else, isn’t there?”.
Charlie again bites his lower lip and looks away. For a moment, he’s silent, but then he inhales deeply and says, without looking back. “You talk in that sort of state, too. Did you know that?”.
It’s like a bucket of ice water is dumped over Cameron’s head, actually, he’d have preferred that. He drapes an arm across his now-closed eyes and groans. “Fucking hell, what did I say?”. There’s a heavy pause before be both feels and hears Charlie shift his position on the bed. He refuses to look, however, already too preemptively embarrassed to face meeting his friend’s eye. He has never been so mortified in his life, and he doesn’t even know what damning words had trickled out of his mouth during the night yet.
Finally, Charlie says, “I went out to use the airfryer, hot pockets. You were just sitting on the table fiddling with your cow. When I asked what was wrong, you just sort of mumbled something about Dad being super angry and wanting to burn your toys, even MooMoo, and then you just... seemed to choose to follow me”. He stops to take a breath, and Cameron already feels sick to his stomach. He doesn’t really want to hear anymore, but Charlie continues anyway. “I asked you why he was doing that, and you said you wanted to cuddle. I have never heard those words come out of you mouth, but when I asked you why, I- you-”.
Cameron’s entire chest feels like it’s compressing around his lungs as Charlie clearly finds difficulty in continuing on. Was what he had said really so bad? He should get up, he should leave, spare them both from this clearly awkward situation.
But then Charlie finishes his sentence. “You told me that you love me, and that I’m someone safe”.
For a very long moment, Cameron feels frozen, unable to move or breath or even think. But then his body is moving, scrambling to twist itself from the sheets and blankets wrapped around him. He’s moving on autopilot, desperate to do one thing, and one thing only. To simply get away. To run from the situation and the consequences that would arise from it.
He has successfully extricated himself from the warmth curled around him, and is sitting up and swinging his legs over the bed when a gentle hand lands on his shoulder, a soft voice filling the air. “Cameron?”. All it takes is his name to make him stop, tense and pulled taut like a rubber-band almost ready to snap. “Did you mean it?”.
Cameron can feel the heat burning in his cheeks and down his neck. Even his ears feel hot. He knows that he could try to lie, but it wouldn’t be very successful. Charlie wasn’t an idiot, and his reaction so far has been pretty telling. That leaves him with only one real option. To tell the truth. And isn’t that just terrifying?
His stomach is squirming and twisting itself into knots as he inhales and whispers out hoarsely. “Yes”. It comes out quiet, but he can tell by the sharp, hitched breath behind him that Charlie has heard him. Before Charlie can interrupt, Cameron attempts to clear his throat and continues. “And I think I have been since we first met, it just took you moving in for me to realize it. I have to assume that was Neil and Todd’s plan all along”.
A silence ensues, one which Cameron can’t decide means things are okay or really bad, but either way, a cold sweat breaks out on his brow, the back of his neck, and the palms of his hands. He needed to leave, to breathe, to figure out where to go and what to do next.
“I’ll go start breakfast”. He says flatly, forcing his body to move. The hand on his shoulder slides off easily as he rises to his feet. He slips out of the room without looking back. He isn't sure he could handle what he saw there, looking back at him.
Once out in the hallway, he slips into the bathroom. He turns the tap on cold, cupping his hands under the stream and then leaning forward to splash it over his face. He gasps at the sudden cold waking over his skin, and repeats the process, allowing his hands to stay pressed to his skin for a moment longer, rubbing tiredly at his eyes and cheeks. He isn’t even aware that he is shaking until he lets his hands drop to rest on the counter and he leans heavily on them. His whole body is shaking. He glances at his reflection in the mirror, just once, sees the panic clear as day in his eyes, and looks away. With a sigh, he pushes away from the counter. Ready or not, it was time to face the music.
The flat sounds silent when he opens the door, but he still creeps back out into the hall. His heart is racing in his chest, beating ruthlessly against the inside of his ribcage. Turning away from the bedrooms, away from Charlie, he makes his way towards the kitchen. His feet practically stumble to a halt, however, when he reaches his destination and sees what is waiting for him there.
Charles Dalton, Charlie, who had previously been pacing the floor, stops as soon as Cameron steps into view. Cameron watches him almost warily. What was Charlie going to do? Was he going to get angry and tell Cameron he was moving out? Or would he tell Cameron that he just doesn’t feel the same, but they can stay friends if Cameron wants to? Or perhaps he would tell Cameron he was already in a loving and dedicated relationship, that Cameron had missed his chance and missed Charlie’s swooning?
What he doesn’t expect is what he receives. Without a word, Charlie strides over to him, reaches up to hold either side of his face, and leans in to kiss him on the mouth. Cameron’s eyes widen in surprise, his hands coming up reflexively to hover over Charlie’s sides, not quite touching but close enough to feel the man’s body heat radiating off of him. Charlie was... kissing him?
It takes a moment for Cameron’s mind to unfreeze, for him to regain control over his limbs, but once he does... oh, it’s like magic. He curls his arms around Charlie’s waist as he begins to kiss back, pulling him close as he splays his hands out over Charlie’s back. He revels in the full body shiver he feels run through Charlie, right before the man tilts his head just so and kisses him deeper. Cameron exhales shakily through his nose, the breath ending on a whimper as he feels Charlie lick at his lower lip, laving his tongue over his mouth slowly before Cameron’s lips part almost involuntarily, allowing him to slip greedily inside, mapping out Cameron’s mouth expertly as Cameron’s knees go a little weak. He is unaware that he has let his hands begin to wander until they slip underneath Charlie’s shirt, pressing into the soft skin of his lower back, making Charlie pull away with a hitched gasp.
“God, I’ve wanted to do that since senior year in Hellton”. Charlie groans, letting his forehead come to rest against Cameron’s shoulder. Cameron snorts out a little laugh.
“We are a pair, aren’t we? It must have been torture for everyone else to watch us dance around each other for this long without even realising it”. Cameron replies, amusement lacing his tone. No wonder Todd had decided to stick his nose in where it didn’t really belong. They both had really left him with little choice in the matter. If there was one thing Todd truly couldn’t stand, it was people being utterly oblivious to something right under their nose.
“That would explain why Knox wiggles his eyebrows at me every time you’re around”. Charlie adds thoughtfully, making Cameron snort out another laugh. Charlie grins at the reaction, a smile lighting up the entire room, like making Cameron laugh was his greatest accomplishment of his day so far, or perhaps even his life.
The sight, and the feeling in his chest it creates, loosens Cameron’s tongue and he closes his eyes as he softly whispers, “I’m not just falling in love with you. I’ve already fallen in love with you”. A pair of plush lips press against his again and he sighs contentedly, tightening the loop of his arms around Charlie’s waist to bring him somehow even closer. He chases Charlie’s lips as the man begins to pull away, not yet ready to end their languid kiss just yet. Charlie allows it, smiling faintly against Cameron’s mouth and humming his approval as he curls his arms around the ginger’s neck and shoulders.
After what feels like both mere seconds and long hours, no time at all and yet an eternity, Charlie pulls away. He has a soft, adoring look in his eyes as they slowly flutter back open. His mouth is curled up into a tender smile, and for a moment, he simply looks at Cameron, as if drinking him up in order to stay alive. Then he sighs happily and leans just close enough to nuzzle their noses together.
“I love you, too, Cameron Richardson”. He says. The words make a host of butterflies explode in Cameron’s stomach, fluttering madly around and making him feel giddy and shaky all over again, but for a much more pleasant reason now than before.
A wry smile pulls at Cameron’s mouth as he suddenly thinks of something. “The others are going to be absolutely unbearable about this”.
Charlie huffs out an answering laugh. “You’re right. I say we just don’t tell them, continue to act like we usually do, and see how long it takes them to realize we’ve finally gotten together”.
‘Gotten together’. The two words are so simple, and yet, they send a thrill coursing through Cameron’s entire body, starting in his chest and exploding outwards until even his fingers and toes are tingling with it. At the same time, it settles something in his chest, like an unknown piece to a puzzle finally slotting into place and leaving him feeling completely whole for the first time in his life. This... this meant something, it was important, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he will fight for this every day. He will never let this go. A month ago, that thought would have terrified him, but now it just feels right.
“Agreed”. Cameron says. “As long as I get to make sure everyone knows you’re mine once they figure it out”.
"I wouldn’t have it any other way”, Charlie hums, “Possessive”. He adds cheekily. He then prematurely silences Cameron with another kiss, but Cameron doesn’t really mind. The statement is at least somewhat truthful, after all.