Chapter 18 Charlie
“Come with me.”
“Absolutely not.” Andrew continues to stack dishes on the kitchen island, more than Charlie knew he owned.
He strongly suspects Andrew might’ve brought some of their parents’ dishes over for this weekend because there’s no way Charlie had this many plates.
Then again, Andrew is the one who bought them, so what would he know?
“Please, Annie.”
“No.”
Charlie frowns. Andrew tells him no a lot, but he doesn’t usually mean it.
“But you love grocery shopping,” Charlie protests.
The look Andrew turns to give him is positively scathing. “I enjoy it at eight in the morning on a weekend when it’s empty. Not at seven at night the day after Thanksgiving. I’d literally rather drive into oncoming traffic.”
Personally, Charlie would also rather die, not because of the crowds but because he never does grocery shopping.
Alec was over earlier, bringing some of the desserts and dishes he’d prepared.
While Charlie had promised himself he’d tell Alec about Eden, all he’d done was offer to get his last minute groceries instead.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Charlie bemoans, draping himself across the kitchen island and garnering no sympathy from his brother. “Besides, Alec is doing all the cooking. It's the least we can do.”
“It’s the least you can do,” Andrew corrects. “I’ve already coordinated table and chair rentals for the backyard, invited everyone, helped Alec make his menu and organized various activities.”
“We don’t need activities. People are coming to eat.”
“A lot of people are coming. Alec invited Riley and Hunter, and while I have only met Hunter once at the hospital after Alec’s accident, I know that Alec and Riley together have enough energy to put the Energizer Bunny to shame.
Also, Jason invited his assistant coach Eddie and his wife Amy, and they’re bringing the twins, who will absolutely get bored.
Jason also invited Mabel, and he’s bringing both dogs because he said they spend enough time alone during the week, and he can’t leave them.
Denise and Amanda are coming—obviously—and then everyone has to meet Eden.
Do you have any idea how many things could go wrong with this many people, some of whom have never met each other? ”
“Alternatively, imagine how many things can go right?” Charlie tries, sensing Andrew is spiraling and wishing he knew how to take some of his worries away. “Seriously, it’s just a casual Friendsgiving, nothing to stress about.”
“Says the man who stresses about nothing.”
“I’m stressed about grocery shopping,” Charlie points out. “You could take pity on me and come.”
“No.” His tone leaves absolutely no room for argument, even for someone like Charlie. “I’m going to finish making sure you have the serveware ready for tomorrow, then I’m going to go home and take the world’s longest hot shower and read.”
“Fuck you,” Charlie groans.
“Mhmm, have a snack before you go, and don’t be surprised if they’re out of stuff.”
“It’s the day after Thanksgiving; everything will be restocked.” At Andrew’s laughter, Charlie frowns. “Won’t it?”
“I’ll let you find out for yourself. Also, don’t call Alec if you’re confused.”
“Why?” Charlie questions, not wanting to admit that he absolutely planned to do just that.
“Theo texted me right before I got here. Apparently, Alec has been in the kitchen for hours trying to make gnocchi from scratch, and it’s not going well. In fact, add that to the list Alec gave you just in case.”
“Yes, list,” Charlie repeats, wondering where he put that.
Andrew sighs, walking over to the fridge and pulling a small note card off where it’s held up by several ceramic magnets Charlie made when he took a ceramics class for fun last summer.
He opens the drawer next to the fridge, rummaging around for a pen and muttering to himself about trash and disorganization before bringing the list and pen to Charlie. “I re-organized that drawer like a month ago, why is it so full of shit?”
“It’s called a junk drawer for a reason,” Charlie points out. “I put stuff there when I don’t know where else to put it.”
“There was a system. I have little bins in there. They’re labeled, Charlie.”
“Yeah, that was too organized.”
Andrew sighs. “Whatever. Where’s the gravy bowl?”
“I have a gravy bowl?”
“You know what, just go to the store. Now. I’ll finish this.”
“Are you sure?” Charlie asks. “I did offer to help.”
“Yet you haven’t done anything but watch me for the last hour.”
“You’re so much better at it.”
“Go to the fucking store, Charlie. Also get a case of beer. Theo and Jason will want it, and I only got wine.”
“Right, gnocchi and beer,” Charlie says, adding to the list because he will absolutely, without a doubt, leave the store without them if they’re not written down. “Anything else?”
“That’s it,” Andrew says, turning around with what Charlie can only assume is the gravy bowl. “Charlie?”
“Mhmm?”
“You told Alec about Eden, right?”
Charlie freezes, crumbling the list in his right hand. “I told him I invited a friend.”
“Charlie,” Andrew hisses, slamming the gravy bowl down on the kitchen island so hard the stack of dishes rattle. “You promised. You said you’d tell him yesterday. You said—”
“I know what I said,” Charlie interrupts.
“Jason’s not going to care, but Alec—you know he’s gonna take this personally.”
“It’s not like I purposefully picked someone younger than me to catch feelings for. Maybe he’ll surprise us and be so excited that I've settled down and got an actual boyfriend that he won’t have any energy left to be upset with me.”
Andrew’s expression makes it very clear what he thinks of that.
“Fuck,” Charlie groans. “He’s gonna have a shit fit.”
“Because of all the shit you gave him over Theo being older than him,” Andrew points out.
“Yes, I’m aware it’s all my fault, thank you, Captain Obvious.”
“You were a dick.” Charlie opens his mouth, but Andrew silences him with a look not even Charlie King would dare cross. “You’re being a dick now by not telling him. The day you and Eden made it official, you should’ve told him. He looks up to you, in a way he never has me or Jason.”
“Well if you wanted to make me feel bad, you succeeded, asshole.”
“I don’t want you to feel bad, I want you to take responsibility for the shit you do.”
“That’s kind of harsh,” Charlie grumbles, crossing his arms.
“I think I should go home,” Andrew says. “I’ll come over early tomorrow and help finish.”
“Annie.”
Andrew grabs his wallet and keys off the edge of the kitchen island. Before he can leave, Charlie grabs onto him and holds on tightly. There’s a second where Andrew doesn’t move, before he returns the embrace, his hug solidifying something in Charlie.
He knows Andrew is probably mad at him, making guilt gnaw its way up Charlie’s spine.
Andrew is right, he should’ve told Alec, but the prospect of Alec being mad at him—even deservingly so—was something he couldn’t handle.
He’s always been Alec’s hero, his safe space, and the idea of falling down off the pedestal his baby brother put him on a long time ago is something Charlie can hardly bear to imagine.
“Don’t be mad at me,” Charlie whispers.
It’s pathetic since Charlie deserves Andrew’s ire, and will deserve Alec’s too, but the idea of the people he loves most in the world being mad at him makes Charlie feel sick.
“I love you,” Andrew says, and it’s not ‘I’m not mad at you,’ but it’s enough for Charlie to exhale the breath he’s holding.
Slowly but surely, Andrew returns the embrace, and Charlie sags into it.
He sometimes wonders how other people cope living life alone, not having a twin who shares not only your DNA but a piece of your heart.
Even now, when Charlie’s being a shithead, and Andrew needs time apart, he knows Andrew loves him.
He’s always known, and something about that unconditional support—of knowing the one person who shares everything with him will always be there—has always made it easier for Charlie to be himself.
“Will you come over early tomorrow?” Charlie asks.
“Obviously,” Andrew answers.
Charlie loosens the embrace, letting Andrew take a step back. “Can I call you from the grocery store?”
“No,” Andrew replies, the quirk of his lip making Charlie smile.
“Please.”
“I’m turning my phone off.”
“You wouldn’t be able to cope, worrying if someone needed you.”
Andrew flips him off, walking backwards to the door. “Fine, it’ll be on silent. Don’t call me unless it’s an emergency. A real one, Charlie.”
“Fine,” Charlie sighs. “I mean it’s only grocery shopping. How hard could it be?”
Andrew's resounding laughter stays with him, echoing in his head once he’s standing in the middle of said grocery store pushing a mostly empty shopping cart and frowning at the ransacked shelves.
“Do people not eat any time besides Thanksgiving?” Charlie mutters to himself, wondering how the fuck all the food can disappear in one goddamn day.
Somehow, Charlie has nothing that is on his list besides the beer, but he does have a cart filled with various chips and crackers and a few candy bars.
Andrew was right, he should’ve eaten before he came because walking around hungry has led to Charlie adding anything that looks vaguely good.
Luckily, he’s made it through the snack and sweets aisles and into the one with breadcrumbs.
Unfortunately for Charlie, the only thing he wrote down was breadcrumbs, not realizing how many fucking kinds there were.
There are two completely empty spots on the shelf, leaving Charlie to pick between Italian breadcrumbs, panko breadcrumbs or gluten-free breadcrumbs.
He knows they don’t need gluten-free, so he ends up grabbing both panko and Italian breadcrumbs, unsure which one Alec will need and not wanting to chance it.