Chapter 14 Charlie #2
Three words. The closest to opening up Eden has gotten since they met. It’s incredible how one sentence can fill Charlie with pride at having earned even a breadcrumb of Eden’s trust.
“So, uh…who is Ella then?”
“Are you gonna show me what’s out here or conduct an interview?” Eden snaps.
Right, no more answers tonight then. That’s fine. Charlie’s not a patient man by nature, but for once, he’s content to earn what he wants.
“Yeah, it’s just in my studio. Follow me and I’ll get the lights. Just…fair warning, it might be a lot.”
“You’re being the bad kind of weird again.”
“Seriously, I know I’m a lot, and I’m not apologizing, or being self-deprecating.
I’m telling you flat out I’m intense, and if that’s not what you want or like, you can walk.
” Even as he says it, something tightens in his chest. He doesn’t want Eden to walk away from him.
He’s always worn his weirdness and his queerness like badges of honor, throwing it in people’s faces loud and proud before they could judge him.
He knows exactly who he is, and he likes it.
For the first time in his life, he finds himself caring if someone else likes it too.
“Just open the goddamn door, Charlie.”
Turning the handle, Charlie pushes open both studio doors. It’s dark enough that the moon overhead barely casts enough light to illuminate the small step up into the studio, the entirety of what’s inside still hidden away in the dark.
This is it, Charlie’s last chance to change his mind. He knows he won’t, regardless of the risk. He wants Eden to see this. He needs him to see it.
“Please tell me there’s no video cameras in there,” Eden muses. “I don’t do sex tapes.”
“I don’t want to make a sex tape,” Charlie snorts. “Although—”
Eden pinches his ass, and Charlie laughs even as his nerves rage. He’s not sure he’s ever been this nervous to show anyone his art.
“Just remember how much you love me.”
“I don’t love you.”
“Yet,” Charlie jokes, flipping the studio light on. It’s bright, too bright, and Charlie squints at the onslaught of light.
“Andrew once suggested I get ambient lighting installed,” Charlie says, watching as Eden steps into the studio. There are even more pieces than when Amanda came by—canvases of various sizes and designs. The subject matter is the same in all of them though.
“Is it too bright?” Charlie says, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “It’s too bright, right?”
Eden doesn’t reply, walking towards the wall with wide eyes and an unreadable expression.
He makes a line, meandering across the length of the studio as he takes them all in.
The most recent still sits on his easel, only half done.
It’s Charlie’s favorite, a deeply realistic piece of Eden in the same skirt he’d fucked Charlie in last week.
His eyes are glittering with distrust, his middle finger raised to the viewer.
He’s fierce and beautiful. Charlie just needs to finish the background.
“That one’s not done yet,” Charlie says, moving to Eden’s side. “It’s good though, right?”
Still Eden says nothing, reaching out as if to touch then pulling his hand back.
“It’s not wet, you can touch it.”
Eden’s eyes remain on the painting, his pointer finger drawing across the thick paint that make up the ruffles on his skirt. Charlie’s pretty proud of the texture he mimicked there.
“You look beautiful.”
Silence.
No ‘shut up, Charlie.’
No ‘fuck off, Charlie.’
Nothing.
“Do you like them?”
No reply.
Eden spreads his fingers wide, laying it across the center of the canvas. When he speaks, his voice is so achingly small. “Why?”
“I paint. Everything. When I’m mad, happy, sad. Some people think, but I paint. I like to get the feelings on the canvas. I needed you to see before I put them in a gallery, and make sure it was all right.”
He waits for a reply to that. Surely Eden has a wise remark.
Nothing.
“Eden?”
“Why?”
“I just told you, I—”
“Why me,” he whispers, spinning so that his hand is on Charlie’s chest, fisted in his shirt.
His hand shakes, and Charlie has never seen anything more beautiful than Eden right now.
He looks absolutely terrified—why, Charlie can’t imagine—yet he’s not running.
He’s demanding a truth that Charlie is only too happy to give.
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you. From the moment I laid eyes on you, you captivated me.”
“You have horrible taste.”
“I think we’ve established that,” Charlie laughs, tracking the play of emotions on Eden’s face. He’s so expressive, the wrinkle of his nose and the furrow of his eyebrows such an easy tell. He’s confused, and that is a travesty.
“You are incredible, Eden. You deserve to know that. I just needed you to see yourself the way I see you.”
“I have one more rule.”
“What kind of rule?”
“Don’t fall in love with me,” Eden’s voice cracks. “I’m not…just don’t.”
“Eden.”
“That’s the rule,” Eden whispers, and a part of Charlie’s heart twists. Fuck, is this how his brothers felt all those times they talked about crushes and feelings? When they said they’d do anything to make someone else happy? What the actual fuck.
“What if I don’t like the rule?” Charlie dares.
“Then we can’t happen. Besides, you don’t even date. You wouldn’t want something serious, right?”
“I’ve never wanted anything serious before,” is as close to an answer Charlie can give without flat out lying.
“Good, Then…then whatever this is, it doesn’t have to be anything serious. Right?”
“You’ve met me before, when am I serious about anything?” Charlie laughs, that tightness in his chest releasing when Eden nods.
“Also, this is kind of stalkerish behavior.”
“I’m not a stalker. I just know what’s beautiful.”
“You’re delusional,” Eden whispers, bringing his other hand up to Charlie’s face. He smooths his palm across Charlie’s cheek, cradling it in his hand before rising on tiptoes to kiss Charlie. It’s nothing more than a brush of lips, nothing like their earlier kisses, yet thrilling in its hesitancy.
Normally the urge to deepen the kiss, to let it lead to more, would drive Charlie to seek more. For once, he’s content to live in the moment, relishing the sweetest of Eden’s mouth.
When he pulls away, Eden looks almost embarrassed, his pale cheeks flushed pink.
“I told you that you’d wanna kiss me before the night was over,” Charlie grins.
“Fuck you,” Eden huffs.
“You have, and you liked it,” Charlie reminds him, daring to lean down and steal a kiss. Just a little one.
“Fucker,” Eden mutters, deepening the kiss with a swipe of his tongue and a pair of very talented lips. When they separate, it’s Charlie’s turn to blush, his entire body thrumming with the kind of euphoria he’s only used to experiencing post-sex.
“Stay,” Charlie blurts.
Eden stills, the fingers he’s got wrapped up in Charlie’s shirt loosening. “You want to fuck again?”
“I want you to stay the night. We don’t have to have sex.” Charlie almost laughs. God if Andrew could hear him now. Is he really begging a man to sleep over and not for sex? This might be one of the most surreal moments of Charlie’s life.
“What do you wanna do, braid each other’s hair?”
“Mine’s a bit too short,” Charlie points out, ruffling his own mess of waves before eying Eden’s gorgeous hair.
Despite the many threats sent his way about touching it, the urge is damn near overwhelming.
He’s got it mostly up today in a messy ponytail, long strands framing his delicate face.
Charlie would give anything to slide his fingers through those blonde locks.
His thoughts must be easy to read because Eden narrows his eyes at Charlie.
“Try to braid my hair and see what fucking happens.”
“I know you think that’s a threat, but you’re just so cute that it’s hard to take it seriously.”
“Cute. Cute? Fuck you. That’s it, I’m leaving,” Eden grumbles.
Despite those words he doesn’t move a muscle. If he needs Charlie to beg him to stay so he feels in control, Charlie will.
“Stay, please.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to.” Charlie reaches out, brushing his fingers against Eden’s. Eden’s eyes drop down with clear distrust to where their hands are touching, but he doesn’t pull away, so Charlie lets his pinkie curl around Eden’s. “I want you here with me. I’m not ready to let you go.”
“Stalker,” Eden mumbles. It doesn’t escape Charlie’s notice that Eden’s pinkie twitches, as if trying to hold onto Charlie’s, too. “What, are you gonna paint me in my sleep or something?”
“To be fair, I could paint you whether you were here or not.”
Eden waves his other hand towards the wall of paintings. “Yes, I see that quite clearly.”
“I think you like them.”
“You would think that,” Eden says with a roll of his eyes. He chews on his bottom lip before sighing. “I don’t have any pajamas or anything.”
“You can wear mine. Well, my clothes. I sleep naked.”
The idea of Eden in Charlie’s clothes makes his pulse skyrocket. He’s so much smaller than Charlie, so delicate and lanky that even Charlie’s lithe build is bigger than his. The mental image of Eden in nothing but one of Charlie’s t-shirts nearly has him panting.
“Why does that not surprise me?”
“Does that mean you’ve spent time thinking about me?” Charlie grows bolder, turning his palm toward Eden's so they’re almost holding hands now. “You have, haven’t you? Did you dream about me? Jerk off thinking about me?”
“I took Advil thinking about you.”
Eden’s palm presses against his own, still not holding hands but so close Charlie’s entire body thrums. He had no idea physical contact that wasn’t sexual could be so fucking gratifying.
“I’m going to take that as a win.”
“You do that,” Eden snorts. “I uh…I need to call Addy if I’m staying. She’ll worry if I don’t come home.”
“Okay, do you need my phone?”
Eden shakes his head. “Mine’s in my car. I parked on the corner down the street. I wasn’t sure if, well…I didn’t want to park in the driveway because...”