['Charlie,' with all the grief, guilt, longing, and affection that the name demands. Neil squeezes his friend's hand tight, lacing their fingers together.]
Don't miss me while I'm still here. We did run away. That's exactly what we did, and now we're here.
[It isn't a lie. He means every word he says, even if they both know that it's not really true.]
[ How many times has he heard that from Neil? Oh, Charlie– exasperated, or fond, or impressed, or irritated, or anything in between.
He would've missed hearing it more than he realized.
Charlie watches him, those huge brown eyes nearly pleading him to believe that they've run away together, that things can be fixed. That they can stay like this, forever, and–
Even if they can't–
Every new day is one they weren't meant to have. Sometimes, carpe diem is real literal.
Don't miss me while I'm still here, so he won't. He'll do everything in his power to stop that. Reach out and take what's in front of him, hold it tight in both hands and not let go.
They're both a mess. It doesn't matter. Charlie does let go of his hand then, but only so he can press it to Neil's cheek instead. He's burning up, or maybe they both are. It doesn't matter. Not all poetry is words. His answer comes as he closes the distance between them, tilting Neil's face just so to capture his lips in a kiss that does more to dispel the vines wound around his lungs than anything else so far. ]
[Neil trusts every movement - Charlie's hand dropping, lifting, touching his cheek, cupping his face. There's not a thing he could do that Neil would shy away from. It only feels right, too. They should be able to touch each other like this, talking about something like this.
[Charlie leans in. Neil blinks, but his eyes don't open again. Charlie's breath is on his, bloody lip taking bloody lip. Neil's body startles, but doesn't jolt away. His hand comes up to grip Charlie's shirt, tight, alarmed. His heart hammers in his chest, pleasant dread crawling up his spine - he breathes, but he doesn't want to breathe.
[There's a quiet sound, questioning. He shifts an inch closer and tugs Charlie in, his head spinning. He won't speak. He won't speak until Charlie speaks. Not yet. Not yet.]
[ Neil grips his shirt, but doesn't shove him away. Charlie knew he wouldn't. Irrational fear might have nagged at the back of his mind, but– no, in the end, Neil draws him closer, and breath comes easy for the first time in weeks.
Charlie's hand curls to brush knuckles over the high point of Neil's cheekbone as his mouth moves softly, and as he breaks the kiss, it keeps drifting up to card deceptively gentle fingers through the hair over his ear.
He looks at Neil, the blood smudged at the corner of his mouth, and the fact that he no longer knows whose it is feels right. ]
You feel any better?
[ He does. Not completely, but– significantly. If it's the same for Neil, then... ]
[Neil's voice whispers. His hand still grips Charlie's shirt. He tugs him closer again, connects their lips again. Not yet. Not one kiss to be talked about tomorrow, not the questions it may bring, no hesitation, no doubt - not yet - just a little longer under this bloody spell...
[Neil's hands find Charlie's face. Not yet. Noses brush, lashes on cheeks, warm and sweet. He really is the only boy Neil has ever wanted to kiss.]
[ Not being pushed away is one thing. Being pulled in again is quite another thing entirely.
The end will come for them all over again, no matter who leaves first or if they leave together–
But not yet.
Charlie's hand falls from Neil's cheek, trails down his neck to land flat on his chest, right over his pounding heart. His face is cradled, lips kissed so tenderly, and it's the most incredible thing of all to be on the receiving end of Neil Perry not only letting himself want something, but taking what he wants. Charlie's kissed his own fair share of people – girls, guys, it hardly matters to him and he's always known he's the weird one for that – but not like this. Never, ever anything like this.
He strokes his fingertips over Neil's collarbone, prominent beneath his sleep shirt. Gentle, soothing, even as he sucks gently at his lower lip to see how he takes to it. ]
[It's all so dizzying. Neil can't think any one singular thought without it being interrupted by a burst of color, his eyes squeezed shut all the while. Charlie sucks on his lip, so Neil lets his teeth graze over Charlie's, applying just the smallest bit of pressure. Every touch is boyish and honest. Charlie's hand ghosts over Neil's collarbone, but he can't let go of his friend's face. He needs a half-second to break away and breathe, and he breathes just fine...
[Then, this is definitely, exactly, what they absolutely should be, must be doing...]
[ Neil's a natural – but of course he is. Isn't that always the way? He takes to everything like a duck to water, throws all of himself into it. If there's one reason that Neil Perry was always the one on his mind, then there are a thousand, but chief among them has to be that Charlie's always known they both live by the same spirit of passionate experimentation.
He's in no hurry to put a stop to it, but– it's easier knowing that the stop is only a pause.
The next time Neil breaks away to breathe, Charlie brings his hand up to splay against his jaw and presses his thumb to Neil's lips, wet and red. ]
Neil. [ Breathless, affected, and filled to the brim with all the love that's been making him choke on his own blood for days now. ] You wanna know something?
[ That thumb strokes over to the corner of his mouth so that he can steal another quick kiss, then stays close enough for his words to hum against Neil's lips. ]
[Of course Neil's eyes would stay glued to Charlie's lips, his own kept away from them. Both of them look like they just got finished with a fight, and Neil's heart pounds as if that were really true. Blood is swept away from his bottom lip to the corner of his mouth, and Neil shivers, his eyes falling closed under Charlie's words.
[He laughs, weak, bloody, genuine. And then he whispers, soft:]
I think...that's what makes it the cure in the first place. Right? Ha...
[ He huffs a laugh at that, clutches his fingers tighter against Neil's face. ]
Yeah. You're right.
[ There are still petals on their shirts, the blankets around them, stuck with slowly drying blood. It's a mess, and they shouldn't stay in it, but it's not like Charlie's bed is much better anyway, and–
He doesn't want to go back to that bed. Not tonight. Not ever. Not alone, and not with Neil. This is where they figured things out, so this is where they'll stay. Neil better get used to the idea real quick.
With anyone else, Charlie would dive right back in, let their bodies handle the talking, but he's been so close to this for so long... It feels important to make it clear. ]
People keep telling me we can do things here that we couldn't back in our worlds. [ Carpe diem, in its own way. He'll do whatever he needs to catch Neil's gaze and hold it. ] So, let's keep doing this. Yeah?
cw: sexuality discussion, internalized homophobia, etc.
[Running down a hill, arms swinging, one still must eventually come to a stop. Neil hasn't had a second to think about this - Charlie's kiss, Charlie's cure, Charlie's want. It makes his heart race so quickly it almost feels painful, or like the room could spin out from under him. He supposes he could still blame the sickness, but he's breathing fine.
[To say that Neil likes men would be...
[A lot. But...replace that with Charlie, and it's really not difficult at all. Who else could Neil possibly choose? Now, ever...
[He doesn't have to think about it, really - doesn't much want to. Just...has to let the shock settle for a moment before he nods, face red, burning. He tries to speak, but his mouth has gone dry; he clamps it shut and swallows hard.]
We can do whatever we want. That's what they tell me.
[ Truthfully, Charlie wouldn't care if they were the only ones. He wonders if Neil gets it now, what he really meant when he said he would've run away with him. It could've been them against everyone, striking out to find new ground in the world and in each other–
But Neil's right. They wouldn't be the only ones.
People can say whatever they want about this place. Charlie's gonna have a hard time believing he's a prisoner when they're freer than ever before.
He hooks an arm around Neil's back to draw him in closer, smiling at his best friend in that rare, genuine way that so few others get to see. ]
So...
[ Low, drawn out, prompting. His eyebrows raise, hand spreading out warm and wide low on Neil's back.
If they can do whatever they want, be whatever they want, then– ]
D'you want to be mine?
[ He knows the answer. He's known it longer than Neil's have, he's sure of it.
And that's exactly why he wants to hear it so badly. ]
[It may take a day or two, a talk or two, a night like this or two, for Neil to realize just exactly what Charlie meant when he said they could have run away. He's too bewildered right now, the smell of blood in his nostrils, a smile on his lips, his heart in his throat. It's a good thing. He can't afford to realize all that he regrets. Not yet. He's wrapped up in Charlie instead. The boy's question sends chills right down to the tips of Neil's toes.]
It's always been that way, hasn't it?
[Is he allowed to kiss him again? He doesn't know - not until after he finishes saying this, maybe.]
I do. I'd only want to be yours - I want you to be mine. Too...
Just...
[Neil laughs, raw and bright. He kisses Charlie. He kisses Charlie! And no one stops him.]
Just like it's always been.
Better.
goD WE CAN WRAP??? they make out the whole night til they fall asleep FRANKLY
[ The best thing in the world, in any world, Charlie decides right then and there, is Neil's bright, unrestrained laughter getting caught between their lips. Charlie grins into the kiss, feeling lighter than he has since they woke up in that garden.
Neil's his. Just like he's always been. But now he finally gets it.
Charlie takes his face in both hands then, thumbs gentle at the hinges of his jaw and fingers winding into the back of his hair, and draws him in for another kiss, another, another...
As many as he can until he has to stop long enough for his still hoarse voice to be heard. ]
I'm staying in here. [ Tonight. Every night. ] I'm not letting you go.
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no subject
['Charlie,' with all the grief, guilt, longing, and affection that the name demands. Neil squeezes his friend's hand tight, lacing their fingers together.]
Don't miss me while I'm still here. We did run away. That's exactly what we did, and now we're here.
[It isn't a lie. He means every word he says, even if they both know that it's not really true.]
I guess...my head is a bit of a mess, but...
I think I can fix it. Now. You know?
no subject
He would've missed hearing it more than he realized.
Charlie watches him, those huge brown eyes nearly pleading him to believe that they've run away together, that things can be fixed. That they can stay like this, forever, and–
Even if they can't–
Every new day is one they weren't meant to have. Sometimes, carpe diem is real literal.
Don't miss me while I'm still here, so he won't. He'll do everything in his power to stop that. Reach out and take what's in front of him, hold it tight in both hands and not let go.
They're both a mess. It doesn't matter. Charlie does let go of his hand then, but only so he can press it to Neil's cheek instead. He's burning up, or maybe they both are. It doesn't matter. Not all poetry is words. His answer comes as he closes the distance between them, tilting Neil's face just so to capture his lips in a kiss that does more to dispel the vines wound around his lungs than anything else so far. ]
no subject
[Charlie leans in. Neil blinks, but his eyes don't open again. Charlie's breath is on his, bloody lip taking bloody lip. Neil's body startles, but doesn't jolt away. His hand comes up to grip Charlie's shirt, tight, alarmed. His heart hammers in his chest, pleasant dread crawling up his spine - he breathes, but he doesn't want to breathe.
[There's a quiet sound, questioning. He shifts an inch closer and tugs Charlie in, his head spinning. He won't speak. He won't speak until Charlie speaks. Not yet. Not yet.]
screams into my fists about it
Charlie's hand curls to brush knuckles over the high point of Neil's cheekbone as his mouth moves softly, and as he breaks the kiss, it keeps drifting up to card deceptively gentle fingers through the hair over his ear.
He looks at Neil, the blood smudged at the corner of his mouth, and the fact that he no longer knows whose it is feels right. ]
You feel any better?
[ He does. Not completely, but– significantly. If it's the same for Neil, then... ]
no subject
[Neil's voice whispers. His hand still grips Charlie's shirt. He tugs him closer again, connects their lips again. Not yet. Not one kiss to be talked about tomorrow, not the questions it may bring, no hesitation, no doubt - not yet - just a little longer under this bloody spell...
[Neil's hands find Charlie's face. Not yet. Noses brush, lashes on cheeks, warm and sweet. He really is the only boy Neil has ever wanted to kiss.]
no subject
The end will come for them all over again, no matter who leaves first or if they leave together–
But not yet.
Charlie's hand falls from Neil's cheek, trails down his neck to land flat on his chest, right over his pounding heart. His face is cradled, lips kissed so tenderly, and it's the most incredible thing of all to be on the receiving end of Neil Perry not only letting himself want something, but taking what he wants. Charlie's kissed his own fair share of people – girls, guys, it hardly matters to him and he's always known he's the weird one for that – but not like this. Never, ever anything like this.
He strokes his fingertips over Neil's collarbone, prominent beneath his sleep shirt. Gentle, soothing, even as he sucks gently at his lower lip to see how he takes to it. ]
cw: -18 makin out here down most likely
[Then, this is definitely, exactly, what they absolutely should be, must be doing...]
it's just guys being dudes
He's in no hurry to put a stop to it, but– it's easier knowing that the stop is only a pause.
The next time Neil breaks away to breathe, Charlie brings his hand up to splay against his jaw and presses his thumb to Neil's lips, wet and red. ]
Neil. [ Breathless, affected, and filled to the brim with all the love that's been making him choke on his own blood for days now. ] You wanna know something?
[ That thumb strokes over to the corner of his mouth so that he can steal another quick kiss, then stays close enough for his words to hum against Neil's lips. ]
I'd do this even if it wasn't the cure.
no subject
[He laughs, weak, bloody, genuine. And then he whispers, soft:]
I think...that's what makes it the cure in the first place. Right? Ha...
no subject
Yeah. You're right.
[ There are still petals on their shirts, the blankets around them, stuck with slowly drying blood. It's a mess, and they shouldn't stay in it, but it's not like Charlie's bed is much better anyway, and–
He doesn't want to go back to that bed. Not tonight. Not ever. Not alone, and not with Neil. This is where they figured things out, so this is where they'll stay. Neil better get used to the idea real quick.
With anyone else, Charlie would dive right back in, let their bodies handle the talking, but he's been so close to this for so long... It feels important to make it clear. ]
People keep telling me we can do things here that we couldn't back in our worlds. [ Carpe diem, in its own way. He'll do whatever he needs to catch Neil's gaze and hold it. ] So, let's keep doing this. Yeah?
cw: sexuality discussion, internalized homophobia, etc.
[To say that Neil likes men would be...
[A lot. But...replace that with Charlie, and it's really not difficult at all. Who else could Neil possibly choose? Now, ever...
[He doesn't have to think about it, really - doesn't much want to. Just...has to let the shock settle for a moment before he nods, face red, burning. He tries to speak, but his mouth has gone dry; he clamps it shut and swallows hard.]
We can do whatever we want. That's what they tell me.
We...wouldn't even be the only ones, so...?
no subject
But Neil's right. They wouldn't be the only ones.
People can say whatever they want about this place. Charlie's gonna have a hard time believing he's a prisoner when they're freer than ever before.
He hooks an arm around Neil's back to draw him in closer, smiling at his best friend in that rare, genuine way that so few others get to see. ]
So...
[ Low, drawn out, prompting. His eyebrows raise, hand spreading out warm and wide low on Neil's back.
If they can do whatever they want, be whatever they want, then– ]
D'you want to be mine?
[ He knows the answer. He's known it longer than Neil's have, he's sure of it.
And that's exactly why he wants to hear it so badly. ]
no subject
It's always been that way, hasn't it?
[Is he allowed to kiss him again? He doesn't know - not until after he finishes saying this, maybe.]
I do. I'd only want to be yours - I want you to be mine. Too...
Just...
[Neil laughs, raw and bright. He kisses Charlie. He kisses Charlie! And no one stops him.]
Just like it's always been.
Better.
goD WE CAN WRAP??? they make out the whole night til they fall asleep FRANKLY
Neil's his. Just like he's always been. But now he finally gets it.
Charlie takes his face in both hands then, thumbs gentle at the hinges of his jaw and fingers winding into the back of his hair, and draws him in for another kiss, another, another...
As many as he can until he has to stop long enough for his still hoarse voice to be heard. ]
I'm staying in here. [ Tonight. Every night. ] I'm not letting you go.