Chapter 20 Charlie #2
Stupid fucking feelings. Everything was easier when it was only sex.
He should’ve kept it casual with Eden. Except even thinking that makes Charlie unhappy.
From the moment he met Eden, there was nothing casual about his own feelings, and once they fucked he was done for.
Eden is something special, something one in a million, and as hurt as Charlie is, he knows he wouldn’t change anything.
“Stop moping and shower.”
“Don’t you have any fucking sympathy?” Charlie whines. “I’m sad.”
“You can be sad and clean,” Andrew points out, grabbing his shoulders and marching him to the bathroom. “Besides, you need to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Yes, you are.”
“You don’t know how I feel.”
“Yes, I do.” Andrew’s voice softens. “I know you’re hurting, Charlie.”
Charlie’s shoulders sag. He is hurting, more than maybe ever. He doesn’t like it at all.
“Then take pity on me and let me rot,” Charlie grumbles.
“No.” Andrew’s firm voice returns. “Shower. Shave. Put on clothes, or at least boxers, and then come out. Alec’s making breakfast.”
“Fine,” Charlie grits out.
“Good.” Andrew gives him a shove into the adjoining bathroom, pulling the door shut before he can try to escape. Not that he’d bother, knowing Andrew would simply force him get back in here.
Cursing under his breath, Charlie steps into the shower, turns the faucet on high and moves beneath the spray of water.
It’s ice cold, and he curses louder, but doesn’t bother moving out of the spray while he waits for it to warm up, relishing in the shock to his system.
Eventually, the water warms, but Charlie still doesn’t move, frozen beneath the spray as it belts down onto his head.
The fact he does feel moderately better after being smelly and sweaty only makes him crankier. Fucking Andrew always being right.
Part of him wants to avoid using soap to spite Andrew, but knowing his brother, he’d probably march Charlie back into the goddamn shower.
Grabbing his loofah, he squeezes a generous amount of his favorite apricot body wash and scrubs himself clean, refusing to acknowledge how damn good it feels to be clean after not showering for a week.
Deciding there’s no harm in acknowledging how right Andrew is, at least to himself, he scrubs his hair vigorously before getting out and deciding to go the full nine yards and shave as well.
By the time he’s dry and dressed in a pair of boxers and a clean—albeit paint-stained t-shirt—and shuffling towards the kitchen, he has to grudgingly admit Andrew was right.
He does feel better, smooth and clean and out of his bed. Fucking Andrew.
His mood is lifted more when he picks up on the scent of frying butter and what smells very much like pancakes.
His suspicions about what Alec is cooking are confirmed when he makes his way into the kitchen and is met with the sight of Alec at the stove frying up a huge stack of Charlie’s favorite blueberry pancakes.
On the kitchen island is a pink box of donuts Jason and Theo have clearly already raided, along with a huge bowl of fruit salad, a cooling rack covered in scones, and a massive pile of what smells like breakfast burritos already individually wrapped in foil.
“Sit down,” Alec says, shoving a huge plate of pancakes in front of Charlie.
“What’s all this?” Charlie asks, pointing to the rest of the food.
“I’m meal-prepping you food since you apparently can’t fucking take care of yourself.”
Unlike Andrew, whose tone was firm but kind, Alec’s is sharp.
Whether it’s because Charlie ignored his texts and calls all week or because he kept Eden a secret remains to be seen.
Knowing Alec, probably both. His rejection sensitive dysphoria has always been bad, which is why Charlie usually tries not to dick around with his baby brother’s feelings.
Enough people have done that before. Charlie was supposed to be the one person who didn’t hurt him.
Turns out Charlie hurts all kinds of people without trying.
Alec. Andrew. He still can’t believe he invited that dickhead Zach.
Had he realized what he had done to Andrew in high school, he would’ve cut him out the next day, exactly why Andrew claims he never told Charlie.
He wishes Andrew understood he was worth it.
Not that he’s apparently very good at showing the people he cares about that they’re important, judging by the fact that his boyfriend broke up with him, and he hurt two out of three of his brothers, albeit inadvertently.
“Alec,” Charlie sighs.
Alec’s expression falls, the hurt more pronounced than the anger and twice as painful. “Eat your fucking pancakes.”
Shoving his mouth full of enough food he won’t be able to speak and fuck anything else up, Charlie chews while watching Alec sauté something on the stove before flipping the burner off and pulling something else out of the oven.
He doesn’t risk asking what it is, but based on the cheese bubbling on top and the scent of chiles, it’s something Charlie will very much enjoy later.
You can’t go wrong with any food that’s got cheese, tortillas, and chiles in it.
By the time Charlie finishes his stack of pancakes and a plate of fruit, Alec has filled several individual containers with the casserole he made and supplied Charlie with a cup of perfectly brewed coffee.
“Where’s Andrew?” Charlie dares to ask, hoping he doesn’t get his head bitten off.
“He went out front to take a phone call,” Alec replies, tone clipped as he sets a massive skillet on the kitchen island.
The sight of freshly sautéed nopalitos has Charlie’s stomach grumbling despite his full belly.
To his delight, Alec scoops a generous amount into each of the meal-prep containers.
“Thank you.”
“Andrew made me,” he says, shoulders hunched.
“How long are you going to be mad at me, Ally?”
“Would you have told me about Eden if you weren’t forced?” He challenges.
“I don’t know,” Charlie answers honestly. “Yes, eventually. I just wasn’t ready.”
Alec stops bustling around the kitchen, turning his gaze on Charlie. “Why?”
“Because he’s…special. I think—” Charlie pauses, the weight of the truth heavy. “I think I’m in love with him.”
He waits for Alec to snap or yell, unprepared for him to come around the kitchen island and slam into Charlie with such force he nearly knocks him off his stool.
“You’re such a dumb fuck, Charlie.”
“I know.” Charlie wraps his arms around Alec, trying not to cry as his baby brother hugs him tight.
“Do you understand now?” Alec whispers, squeezing tightly.
Charlie doesn’t need to ask what Alec means.
The question is obvious. Does Charlie understand why love makes you do stupid things?
Why you might hide something for fear of losing it?
Regret is bitter, and he wishes he could take back all the harsh words he sent Alec and Theo’s way because he thinks he understands now.
“Yeah, Ally.”
“Oh good, you finally made up,” Andrew says from the archway. “I was giving you both one more day before I scheduled an intervention.”
“You can’t schedule everything,” Charlie points out, ruffling Alec’s curls when he steps out of the hug.
“Yes, you can,” Andrew challenges, heading directly for the coffee pot. “Speaking of—we need a plan.”
“A plan for what?” Charlie asks.
“To get Eden back, obviously,” Alec answers as if he’s in on it. He probably is. The only thing scarier than Andrew with a plan is Andrew and Alec with a plan. All of Andrew’s analytical precision and Alec’s boldness.
“While I appreciate the sentiment, he doesn’t want to see me.”
“You don’t know that,” Andrew challenges, turning around with a mug of coffee in his hand. He sips it slowly, watching Charlie.
“I do, actually. You know because he bolted last weekend and isn’t answering my phone calls or text messages.”
“Yes, it’s very unlike Eden to run when he’s scared. So completely unexpected.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“I’m serious.”
“Me too,” Charlie says. “He made it clear he didn’t want me.”
“You’re being a dumbass,” Alec tells him, hopping onto the edge of the counter.
“Look none of you know Eden better than me—”
“Bullshit,” Andrew coughs into his coffee.
“I might,” Alec adds.
“First off, shut up, Annie. Second of all you met him once.”
“Yeah, well once was enough.”
“Don’t talk about him like that,” Charlie growls.
“Wow, one boyfriend and you turn into a caveman,” Alec laughs, his smile firmly back in place. “I didn’t mean I don’t ever want to see him again. I meant once was enough to figure his shit out. To see that what you need is me.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you need someone who knows what it’s like to love someone who doesn’t think they’re good enough for you, or for our family.
Someone who knows what it’s like to love someone who runs away or lets you run because they’re so sure that they’re going to be abandoned that they want it to happen on their terms.”
“Eden’s not like Theo.”
“Different trauma, same flavor,” Alec shrugs, taking another bite of his burrito. “It doesn’t take a genius to see they share the same fucking problem. They’re scared of being loved.”
Charlie mulls that over. Could Alec be right? He’s spent the last week wallowing, alternating between his own hurt and anger over the rejection to missing Eden. He’s tried to figure out what he did wrong when maybe the problem is that he was doing things right. Right enough that he spooked Eden.
“What do I do?” Charlie asks.
“Win him back, obviously,” Alec grins.
“Yeah, but you’ve forgotten one little problem. He doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“Since when has someone not wanting to talk to you ever stopped you from fucking talking?” Andrew asks.
“Never,” Charlie answers, pretty sure Eden said this exact thing to him as well recently.
“I say this with love,” Andrew starts in that tone of his where Charlie knows he’s going to hate what comes next. “You’ve never had to fight for anything in your life, Charlie. Everything has always come easy to you.”
“I work hard,” Charlie frowns.
“I didn’t say you didn’t,” Andrew replies, something in his expression that Charlie doesn’t understand.
“But working hard and hard work aren’t the same.
You’re talented and funny and people like you.
That’s not a bad thing. You work hard and you play hard but…
.but you’ve never had to fight for anything, Charlie. ”
Resisting the urge to snark back, Charlie mulls those words over.
He knows he’s lucky, knows that he has always found interpersonal relationships easier than Andrew.
Both in friendships and romance. Even his art career has come with far less struggle than most other artists, and while he’s worked hard, he can grudgingly admit that Andrew might be onto something.
“Do you ever get tired of being right?” Charlie sighs.
“Nope,” Andrew replies with a self-satisfied grin. He withdraws a piece of paper from his pocket, sliding it across the kitchen island.
“What is this?” Charlie asks, unfolding the paper.
“Eden’s address,” Andrew answers. “Addy gave it to me. Which for the record she assures me she wouldn’t have done if she didn’t think Eden would be okay with her doing it.”
“When did you talk to Addy?” Charlie asks. “Is Eden okay?”
“Eden gave me her number. We text sometimes. As to how Eden is, well you can ask him yourself.”
“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Charlie asks.
“Then we’ll be here for you, Charlie. All of us. But if you don’t try, then you’ve already lost him. It’s time to decide what you want, Charlie.”
Charlie looks between Alec and Andrew, something settling in his chest when he answers with the easy truth.
“I want Eden.”