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“Charles, have you seen my copy of The Lord of the Rings?”
“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thir—damn!”
The football bounced away and rolled across the office floor, and Charles lunged after it before it could disappear under the sofa, popping up a moment later.
“Sorry, love, what was that?”
Edwin felt himself flush—he had not yet grown used to the endearment, and he wondered whether he ever would—but he repeated the question.
“My copy of The Lord of the Rings is not where it should be on the bookshelves, and I cannot remember the last time I saw it. I don’t suppose you have it squirrelled away in your backpack, do you?”
Charles got to his feet, shaking his head. “No, love, it’s not in the bag. Why?”
Edwin sighed, more at himself than at anything else. “Honestly, first The Secret Adversary, then Max Carrados, and now this! It seems all of our favourite books are evaporating into thin air. I cannot account for it. I am not usually this scatterbrained.”
“Maybe I’m a bad influence,” Charles said lightly, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Too much of a distraction, aren’t I?!”
“That is undoubtedly true, though you are a very welcome one.” Edwin hesitated, his fingers brushing the edge of the bookshelf. “I must admit, however, I am rather upset at having mislaid so many, especially one that was a gift from you. I was hoping to be able to read to you this evening. We’ve barely had any time to ourselves lately, what with casework and you being so busy.”
Charles’s grip shifted on the football. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll turn up.”
The words themselves were innocuous, but something in the way he said them made the back of Edwin’s neck prickle. There was no question about it: Charles was avoiding his eye—exactly as he had done, come to think of it, the previous week when Edwin had been unable to locate the Carrados book.
Crossing the room, Edwin gently prised the football from Charles’s hands and set it down on the sofa.
“Dearest, if something has happened to my books, you may tell me. I am rather attached to them, but I am far more attached to you.”
Charles said nothing for a moment, then laughed, throwing up his hands in surrender.
“Oh, all right. Didn’t plan to do this just yet ‘cause it’s not quite finished, but I’ve been working on something for you. A surprise.”
Something glowed in the pit of Edwin’s stomach. Charles’s night-time absences and recent encouragement of visits to Niko suddenly made more sense. “A surprise involving my books?”
“Sort of. It’ll be better if I show you. It’s next door. Can I…can I cover your eyes?”
Intrigued, Edwin nodded. They never used the adjoining room, being perfectly content with the office space. It had been a while since he had even thought of it, let alone entered it; the last occasion he had done so had been to perform the enchantment that would lock and conceal the door.
Charles’s hand gently settled over his face, and Edwin allowed himself to be led straight through the wall, whereupon Charles uncovered his eyes with a flourish.
“Ta-da! What d’you reckon?”
A tiny gasp escaped Edwin before he could stop it. The room had been entirely transformed. Previously, it had been rather dingy, full of broken furniture and assorted detritus, a sort of storeroom for items abandoned by the building’s former owner. Now, however, it was bright and homely. The walls had been painted a soothing blue-green colour, and in place of the clutter, Charles had arranged a bookcase, a chest of drawers, and a little table bearing a beautiful antique lamp. A glance at the shelves revealed not only the three missing books, but many others besides; everything, in fact, that he and Charles had enjoyed reading together.
And…
And there was something else, taking up most of the space: a large wooden bed, adorned with plump, green-checked pillows. On top of it, in pride of place and looking perfectly at home, lay the red woollen blanket Edwin had knitted for Charles many years ago.
Charles was watching Edwin closely, rocking on the balls of his feet.
“D’you like it? I thought it would be nice, y’know, to have a space for us that’s not for work. I beefed up the wards, it’ll be impossible for anyone to get in here unless we bring them in.”
Edwin remained silent. The words seemed to be stuck somewhere.
“Had a heck of a job keeping it from you,” Charles rattled on. “Niko and Crys helped. It was a total nightmare getting the bed in, too, nearly busted the bag trying to cram it inside. But I managed it in the end.” He threw Edwin another glance, whatever he saw in his face provoking another torrent. “Anyway, I know it might be quite, y’know, forward, or what have you. Because we haven’t. Yeah.” He cleared his throat and gestured to the bed. “I mean, the sofa’s great n’all, but it gets a bit snug with two of us. Not that I mind! I—oh, I’m fucking this up, aren’t I? I’m sorry.”
He looked down at the floor, one foot scuffing tense circles on the carpet.
“I just meant. Now we’re together, it might be nice to have somewhere to relax. You hate it, don’t you? Is it the colour? God, I should’ve asked, I—”
Edwin gazed around the room again, from the serene colour of the walls to the carefully selected books to the blanket on the bed. This space had been created entirely for him, and the tenderness of it melted the lump in his throat. Turning to Charles, he put a finger to his lips, stemming the anxious flow before Charles could waste another word apologising.
“Charles, I love it. It is wonderful, truly. I cannot believe you did all of this for me.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Or that I failed to notice you taking so many of my books.”
A glorious smile, mingled relief and joy, broke out over Charles’s face as he pressed a kiss to Edwin’s fingertip. “I’ve been doing it gradually.” He winked. “Dead sneaky, me. Mind you, it’s pretty easy to distract you whenever you start asking awkward questions. Cuddling usually does the trick.”
“Oh, indeed? And there I was thinking it was for your benefit.”
Edwin drew Charles closer, kissing away his laughing protests until he grew dizzy with it and had to stop. Charles appeared similarly affected, his expression soft and dazed. Neither of them seemed able to stop glancing at the bed. The thought of lying there together was both nerve-wracking and thrilling, and the question Edwin had been holding back since he first saw it finally slipped out.
“Would it be...indelicate of me to ask what you had in mind for this?”
Beneath Charles’s steady gaze, there was a flicker of uncertainty.
“I, um, I was thinking… Well.” Edwin’s ears grew warm as Charles swallowed. “I didn’t mean we had to do anything right away, OK? Not if you don’t want to. But I thought it’d be nicer to have a place like this, when…when you’re ready. When we’re ready. If…if you…if that’s what you…”
It was a relief to find that Charles was also blushing—that he, too, wanted this, but was unsure how to say so. How like him to use actions rather than words. Overflowing with affection, Edwin took his hand and squeezed it.
“Yes,” he said, a tad more emphatically than he had intended. “Yes, that is what I want. Very much, in fact. I may need a little more time, but I am looking forward to sharing that with you. Here, in this room. In this…in our bed.”
Charles did not answer right away, but pulled him into a tight hug, a slight tremor in it as he let out a long, slow exhale.
“That’s brills, love. And we can just leave it for a bit, we don’t have to—”
Gathering his courage, Edwin cut across him, running a tentative hand over the edge of the blanket.
“Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to lie down on it together now? You are correct, it is rather more spacious than the sofa.”
Charles blinked at him, then grinned, small and bright.
“Of course! D’you wanna be the big spoon, or the little spoon?”
Edwin could only stare at him, so obviously at a loss that Charles’s grin widened.
“Not shared a bed with anyone before then?”
“No!” Edwin said, mildly indignant. “Nor, I believe, have you.”
Charles wrinkled his nose. “Well, no, but I know how it works.”
“So do I, unless things have changed radically in the past century! I am not clear on where cutlery comes into it, however. That is one innovation you will have to explain.”
“Fair,” Charles laughed, not unkindly. “It means, do you like being the person cuddling, or the person being cuddled? Like spoons in a drawer, how they stack together?”
“Oh, I see.” Edwin considered both possibilities with due seriousness. Then something else occurred to him. “Charles, if the word ‘fork’ is coming anywhere near this conversation, I swear I shall—”
“Fine,” Charles sighed, though his eyes glinted with mischief. He peeled back the blanket to reveal smooth, sky-blue sheets, sitting down and patting the space next to him. “Maybe we should try both, see which you prefer?”
Not waiting for an answer, he took off his loafers, shoving them untidily under the bed. Edwin sank down beside him, surprised at the softness of the mattress.
“I didn’t expect to feel it,” he said, seeing Charles’s questioning look. “It has been a very long time since I had contact with a bed. And the ones at school barely merited the name, as I’m sure you remember. I never felt comfortable in them, even before….”
He trailed off, unwilling to dwell on the matter. Charles snorted. “Sounds like a St. Hil’s tradition. I reckon they were using the same ones when I was there.” He stroked a thumb over Edwin’s knuckles. “And I told you about the wards, yeah? So…so it’s safe here.”
Edwin entwined their fingers, unable to find words. Charles leaned against his shoulder, a firm, solid weight.
“Anyway, it’s nice, innit?” he continued, after a moment. “I had a lie down on it when I bought it, just to check. Been a while for me, too, but there’s something sort of comfy about it.”
“Perhaps it is because it is ours,” Edwin suggested, and Charles’s smile made him feel warm again.
Slightly self-conscious, he unlaced his boots and set them side by side on the floor. Charles shifted to make space, patient as Edwin slowly drew his legs up, and as one, they stretched out alongside one another, resting their heads on the pillows. Under the blanket, they found each other’s hands, suddenly shy.
“What should we do next?” Edwin whispered, staring at the ceiling.
“Why are you whispering?”
“I don’t know. Why are you whispering?”
A nervous giggle escaped him. This was ridiculous. They had shared countless intimacies over the years, many of them very recently, yet doing so here—lying down, in a bed—was different, more serious, somehow. Edwin turned to Charles, only to find Charles turning towards him, and their noses bumped, making them both laugh.
Being able to see each other eased some of the strange giddiness that had overtaken them. Charles cupped Edwin’s cheek, gazing fondly at him.
“It’s weird,” he murmured. “All the mad stuff we’ve done, and this feels most like sneaking around after lights out. Even though we’re literally in bed. Don’t you reckon?”
Edwin hummed. “I’m not convinced it counts if the two of us are in one bed. I am fairly certain our teachers would have taken a dim view of that, curfew or no curfew.”
“Oh yeah, you might be right. Well, sod them. They’re not here. Our bedroom, our rules.”
Charles shuffled closer, his grin almost brushing Edwin’s lips. It was like sharing a wonderful secret—a quiet anticipation of what might one day happen here between them.
“So. Spooning—big or little?”
The question was no easier the second time of asking. Edwin hesitated, absently rubbing Charles’s collar between thumb and forefinger.
“It is a difficult choice. I do so adore holding you, but just at this moment, I should like to be the little spoon.”
“Fair enough,” Charles said. “Roll over, then.”
Edwin did as he was told, turning onto his side. Behind him, Charles shuffled forwards until his front was pressed against Edwin’s back, one arm threading under his neck, the other draping over his hip. Edwin slid a leg between Charles’s, their socked feet tangling as they lay together. Rearranging the rumpled blanket, Charles buried his nose in Edwin’s hair, and Edwin reached for his hand, kissing it and settling it over his heart.
He felt secure, enveloped, entirely held. “Spoons” didn’t seem quite the right word; there was nothing cold or rigid about this, only a fluid, folding sensation, as though they were sinking into each other. Edwin drifted, suspended in sweetness, the room a quiet stillness around them.
“Mmm.” Charles’s free hand was stroking lazy circles over Edwin’s hip, his breath a ticklish warmth in Edwin’s ear. “S’nice, isn’t it?”
Edwin shifted minutely, encouraging Charles to tighten his embrace. “Exquisite, in fact. So delightful that I’ve nearly forgiven you for making off with my books.”
“Oi, I didn’t make off with them! I just…gave them a new home.”
“And what a lovely home it is. Truly, you have outdone yourself.”
Charles huffed a little laugh against his neck. “I’m so chuffed you like it. And on that note…d’you reckon you could read like this, if I get you a book? Think I can just about reach, if I let go of you for a second.”
Edwin made a weak noise of protest as Charles momentarily released him to stretch over to the bookcase, but he soon returned, curling in next to him and handing him his beloved, well-worn copy of The Lord of the Rings.
“Perhaps you could help me hold it, while I read?” Edwin suggested, adjusting slightly to accommodate the book. “I believe that will make it easier.”
“Of course, love.”
Charles took one side of the book and sighed, nuzzling into Edwin’s neck, as Edwin opened it at the bookmark. Then, nestled in Charles’s arms, he found his place and began to read.