Chapter 15 Eden
Sleep comes easy for Eden. It’s a sentence he’s not used to saying.
Then again, years of sleeping on other people’s beds in other people’s homes, on floors and couches and anywhere he could safely catch a few hours left Eden with the ability to sleep anywhere.
But sleeping and sleeping well are not the same thing.
There’s no mistaking what kind of sleep Eden got last night.
Pulling out of the warm embrace, he stares down at Charlie who looks a bit like a dead Victorian sleeping flat on his back with his mouth open.
It’s deeply unattractive, and Eden likes him all the more for it.
He’s pretty sure he would’ve hated Charlie if he was beautiful while he slept.
Then again, he hates him a little bit for not giving Eden the satisfaction of hating him.
Tracking Charlie’s features, he takes a moment to appreciate how stupidly handsome Charlie is.
Even when he’s breathing so deeply it’s close to snoring and with a bit of drool dried on the corner of his mouth.
Eden has half a mind to try and go back to sleep to soak up a little more comfort before Charlie wakes up, and he has to acknowledge how much he liked sleeping here when he hears something in the kitchen.
Given what Charlie told him yesterday, there’s a good chance it’s one of the cats or his dog, but if there’s one thing Eden’s not stupid enough to do it’s relax when someone or something else is awake.
Slowly extricating himself from the bed so as not to wake Charlie, Eden quietly makes his way out of the bedroom and down the hallway.
If this were a horror movie he’d probably be dead, his self-preservation instincts apparently dulled into submission by a good night's sleep in a pretty boy’s bed.
Hoping it is in fact one of the animals and not a fucking robber, he continues down the hallway and into the kitchen, surprised when it’s neither.
“What are you doing here?”
Andrew jumps like he’s been burned. His expression is a comical mix of abject horror and embarrassment, a carton of eggs in one hand and a bottle of orange juice in the other.
He shoves them in the fridge before standing, managing to look smaller than Charlie despite their being completely identical.
It’s strange how they can look so alike and yet so different.
Much like the last time Eden saw him, Andrew is wearing a pair of perfectly pressed khaki pants and loafers with a pastel pink polo shirt.
His hair is clearly tamed, unlike Charlie’s, but it’s still thick and wavy, his features equally handsome yet arousing nothing but the urge to wrap Andrew in a hug.
“Sorry,” Andrew apologizes, shoulders hunched down. “I uh, I always bring Charlie’s groceries on Sunday mornings. I saw your car in the driveway and realized you were here, but I thought I could sneak in and quietly put them away and leave before anyone noticed I was here.”
“Why?”
“I like grocery shopping and Charlie doesn’t. The stores are dead this early, and it’s kind of peaceful. Plus, if I don’t buy him groceries, he lives on takeout or forgets to eat.”
“That sounds like Charlie,” Eden muses, fully prepared to give Charlie shit for being unable to buy his own food later. “But I meant why were you trying to sneak in without being noticed?”
“Because you’re here.”
“You didn’t wanna see me?”
“The other way around, truthfully,” Andrew says, hands shoved into his pockets. “Charlie’s partners don’t usually like it when I’m here. That or they proposition me.”
Eden frowns at the look of discomfort on Andrew’s face.
“It’s fine, I get it. I’m a third wheel. I just—”
“No,” Eden interjects. “You’re not.”
“I am,” Andrew tells him, and the fact that he’s smiling now makes Eden want to kick something.
To his surprise, he and Andrew have texted quite a few times over the last week, never about anything deep but enough for Eden to realize that Andrew is maybe as lonely as he is, and also hiding just as much.
“It’s not a big deal, Eden. I’m not offended.
Why would anyone want me around when they could have Charlie? ”
The way he says it makes it clear he believes it, making things so much worse.
“Sit down,” Eden barks, stalking across the kitchen.
“What?”
“I said sit the fuck down, Andrew.” Eden moves to the cupboard where he found the coffee mugs the night before, pulling two down. He doesn’t even like coffee but damned if he’s gonna say that right now. “I’m making coffee. You’re staying.”
“You’re in the wrong cupboard if you’re looking for coffee,” Andrew says, moving around Eden and opening the cupboard above the stove.
One that Eden can’t fucking reach. Stupid fucking tall people cupboards.
Without a word, Andrew brings the canister of ground coffee down along with a scooper and a stack of coffee filters.
When Eden does nothing more than stare at them, wondering how the fuck you turn that into disgusting bean liquid, Andrew takes over.
“I’ll make the coffee, maybe you sit down. ”
“Fine, but only because you know how to use the machine.”
“Of course,” Andrew replies, opening the top of the pot and layering in one of the paper coffee filters.
He pops open the lid on the coffee next, lifting it to his nose and inhaling deeply before lowering the tin and scooping out six perfectly level scoops.
Then he lowers the lid, pressing several buttons on the machine before it starts to gurgle.
“Is that all?”
“For the coffee, yes. You like cream or sugar?” Andrew asks, retrieving the first from the fridge and the second from a different cupboard.
“Both,” Eden answers, hoping that the addition of them might make the coffee slightly more palatable than the last time he’d tried to drink that swill.
Andrew hums softly to himself, adding a generous amount of cream and sugar to one cup while putting barely any sugar but a fair amount of cream in the next. Once the pot finishes gurgling, Andrew fills both cups with coffee, giving each of them a stir before carrying them to the table.
“I really don’t have to stay,” Andrew says after a long moment of quiet. He sips his coffee, eyes darting down the hallway and back to Charlie. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“Charlie’s sleeping like the dead, you’re keeping me company.”
“He does that,” Andrew laughs. “Fucker could sleep through anything.”
Eden huffs out a sound of agreement lifting coffee. The scent wafts up to his nose, sweet and rich. Tentatively, he takes a sip hoping it might taste as good as it smells and nearly gags. Disgusting. It should be illegal for something to smell this good and taste like burnt tree bark.
“Did I make it wrong?” Andrew frowns. “Did you need more sugar or cream?”
“I don’t think there’s enough sugar and milk in existence to make this taste good,” Eden admits.
Understanding dawns on Andrew’s face. “You hate coffee.”
It’s not a question, but Eden offers a half-shrug in confirmation before he pushes the mug away. Not even for Andrew can he drink this shit.
“Pity Charlie doesn’t drink Red Bull. Although maybe that’s for the best. Can you imagine Charlie on an energy drink?”
“That’s a terrifying prospect,” Eden laughs, watching Andrew rise from the table and head to the fridge. He shuffles a few things around before returning with a very familiar can, dropping it in front of Eden.
“You just said Charlie doesn’t drink these.”
“You do though.” Andrew sits, slowly sipping his own coffee. “You mentioned it on the first day you texted me.”
“But, why is it here?”
“Because you like them,” Andrew repeats, as if it will make more sense the second time around.
At Eden’s clear confusion, Andrew continues.
“I wasn’t sure if you would be here this morning, but on the off chance you were, well—I thought there should be some in the fridge for you.
When you asked for coffee this morning, I thought maybe you drank both so I didn’t mention it, but I’m suspecting that’s not the case. ”
“Do you regularly buy preferred beverages for your brother’s one-night stands?” Eden wonders, popping the lid on the can. He takes a huge chug to wash away the lingering aftertaste of the coffee, a smile tugging at his lips at the familiar burn of sugary chemical goodness.
“I don’t think it counts as a one-night stand if it keeps happening,” Andrew says with a pointed look. “Besides I’ve never had a cup of coffee with anyone Charlie was dating. There’s a first time for everything.”
“We’re not dating,” Eden protests.
Judging by the expression on Andrew’s face, he has thoughts about that.
Eden has thoughts, too. Messy thoughts he doesn’t want to discuss with Charlie or Andrew or anyone, not even Addy.
If he says they’re not dating, it keeps this casual and ensures neither of them get hurt when Charlie eventually gets tired of Eden. Which he will. Everyone does.
Unlike Andrew who is polite and tactful, Eden is neither.
“Why haven’t you ever had coffee with any of them?” Eden questions.
Andrew appears pensive, taking a drink of his coffee before twisting the mug in front of him.
He taps the handle with each of the fingers on his left and then his right before he answers.
“Most people don’t want me hanging around when they’re making a move on my brother.
Having the asexual twin brother of the guy you wanna fuck around is probably cockblocking. ”
“Fuck them,” Eden grits out.
“It’s okay, Eden.”
“No, it’s not. Fuck people who only care about someone when they can get sex from them. Fuck them.”
“Are we talking about me or you?” Andrew asks.
Were it anyone else, even Addy, he’s pretty sure he would deny it. Somehow with Andrew the truth is easier than a lie.
“Bit of both maybe?”
“For what it’s worth, I’m not mad about it. I’m used to it.”