Chapter 19 #2
‘Yes, all that, but it was mostly truthful. Intoxicated-Charles is an honest Charles. So instead of repeating myself, perhaps you could tell me… what it’s been like on your side.
I’ve done a lot of assuming, but assumptions are dangerous.
I’d like to know if you understand? If you resent me?
If you still want to murder me? Or… if… Feel free to jump in. ’
Loris puts away the wine glass he was polishing and takes another one out of the dishwasher. ‘I understand why you freaked out. You could have been kinder, it wasn’t nice to see you run out of my flat like I was the personification of all your phobias, but I got it.’
‘I’m sorry I made you feel like a balloon.’
‘That’s your phobia?’
‘Bursting balloons are the worst! Don’t mock me.’
‘Never.’ Loris’ mouth quirks up as he pivots to put more dry glasses onto the shelf.
‘Anyway, your reaction wasn’t pleasant but it was forgivable.
Unlike your text the next day pretending nothing happened.
Or how you didn’t seem to care about my feelings.
I hated that, but I really liked you, so I forced a conversation I was initially never gonna force, and it got me that amazing late-night voice note. ’
Charles ducks his head, playing Boléro on his glass. ‘I’ve tried to pick the moment I’m the least proud of, but they’re all joint on the highest step of the podium.’
‘That was so frustrating. You sounded like you were under duress. I almost called to shake you out of it, but you would have called me if you were ready to be shaken. And it doesn’t sit right with me to tell someone that the way they feel is wrong.
So I let you do what you thought was best for you.
Especially because it kind of matched what was best for me. ’
Loris waves goodbye to Jack with a laid-back smile that proves none of it is weighing on his mind. But that doesn’t ease the remorse roiling in Charles’ stomach.
‘What was best for you…?’
‘Moving on, instead of waiting for you to be emotionally ready for me. I’ve been there before and it bit me in the ass.’
‘With Enzo?’
‘Seriously?’
‘I’d like to rationalise why he rubs me up the wrong way,’ Charles says, hardly looking away from the muscles flexing on each side of Loris’ low-neck now that he’s crossed his arms.
‘Honest-Charles mentioned jealousy.’
‘Oh… Yes.’
‘But Enzo is irrelevant. You wanted to know what it was like for me, and that’s it.
Frustration. I was frustrated that there was nothing for me to fix.
Frustrated to imagine what you were dealing with at home.
Frustrated by my incomplete drawings. And soooo frustrated by that one damn good kiss we shared. ’
Loris rubs his lips together, slower than usual, and dark pink takes a short moment to return to the bottom one, like watercolour soaking into paper.
Charles gets off his stool, a swarm of butterflies pulverising the remorse.
But before he can pick up on that last point, Loris snaps out of his train of thought and rolls his eyes.
‘And so frustrated by your random text about Kaunas.’
‘That was a baby step towards acknowledging I wanted you in my life.’
‘Too bad you had spoken with Phoebe.’
‘She told you…’
‘Yeah, and you knew she would so, granted, you were in a tricky situation. But what you did was to double down on your stance. “Me? Lorisexual? No way!” And at that stage, being your Olwinski buddy? No thanks.’ Loris leans onto the counter with a penetrating look that blurs the setting again and mutes the background noise of the pub.
‘Making my peace with your straightness stopped being an option when you tongued our friendship out of my mouth.’
‘I see…’ Charles gulps. ‘Have you told Phoebe that I had a change of heart?’
‘I’m not sure what there is to say. I know what drunk-Charles wants. I know what hungover-Charles wants. But sober-Charles? I believe he only came here because of my keys.’
‘I’m being obvious, no? Am I not being— You have to stop looking at me like that.’
‘I don’t want to assume. Assumptions are dangerous.’
‘I’m here because… I’m so Lorisexual, I want to tongue your sanity out of your mouth until the one single word you remember is my name.’
‘Ambitious.’
The voltage around them is so high, it’s a miracle the neon lights haven’t been blown to smithereens yet. Charles is fighting hard not to push himself on tiptoe and cover the short distance between their mouths.
‘You can tell Phoebe yourself. The gang is gonna be here later. I didn’t think you’d mind as you came to give me back my keys.’
‘It’s great. Your friends are great. I wish they didn’t exist right now, but they’re great.’
Loris smiles and steps back. ‘Patty! I’m going for a fag!’
Charles shoves his notebook into his bag. Wherever Loris is actually going, he will follow him in a thudding heartbeat.
Patty appears, frowning. ‘What are you on about now? You don’t smoke.’
‘Two weeks in France, you know…’
‘Bullshit. But take your full break while you’re at it, so I can leave when you’re back.’
‘Okay. Give me your bag, Charles.’
‘Yes.’
At this point, he would give him his passwords and bank details, no questions asked.
Loris wedges the bag onto a shelf and walks away from Patty, who’s not asking any questions either.
Once on the other side of the counter, he places his hand on the small of Charles’ back to usher him towards the dark recess between tables.
‘We’re going to the basement?’
‘It’s the staffroom too. It’s balloon-free, no worries.’
‘Alright…’
As they climb down a steep and uneven staircase, Charles’ skin-on-skin thoughts are overshadowed by a prick of emotion, so he inhales deeply to fight it off.
No, he’s not about to face Fred’s ghost. His brother’s presence has been scrubbed from the basement many times since he cleaned it.
But when Loris switches on the lights, Charles clasps his pendant, just in case.
The multitude of dried-on stains on the concrete floor makes it hard to assess when the room was last scrubbed. It’s cramped with overloaded shelving units, fridges and beer kegs piled up near a delivery hatch.
‘Mind your step.’ Loris hops over a line of cardboard boxes to access a sagging couch. ‘You okay?’
‘Yes.’ Charles smiles because he is, but Loris seems to doubt it. ‘I am! And I love the place. Cosy and so practically optimised. Are you sure no creature lives inside that thing you’re on?’
‘I’m willing to risk it.’
Charles joins Loris and closes his legs to straddle his thighs. ‘Well, I’m not.’
‘Please, make yourself at home. I mean, more than you already are, since Patty has adop—’
‘Stop talking?’
‘Yeah.’
Charles presses their lips together, instantly chasing Loris’ tongue.
He’s set an objective upstairs and plans on succeeding.
Providing that he doesn’t go insane first. He has very few points of comparison to appraise kissing skills, but Loris’ are clearly above greatness.
It’s not normal to ignite someone’s soul and body so fast. Loris doesn’t even need to kiss him.
His mouth is now exploring Charles’ neck, his hands kneading his skin underneath his shirt, and Charles is already close to conceding defeat.
But when he rubs against his jeans, Loris moans, giving Charles a boost of confidence in his ability to get the win.
‘Wait…’ Loris contracts his fingers on Charles’ back. ‘Wait.’
His second and more imperative request is followed by Patty’s voice in the stairwell.
‘Loris! Change the star for me, love!’
‘Yeah, sure!’
Charles lets himself fall against the armrest to allow Loris to stand up. ‘Change what star?’
‘Staropramen. Czech pilsner. The keg is empty.’
‘Less poetic than I thought.’
Loris chuckles and pushes a door between two fridges.
Mentally beheading the customer who has to drink pilsner, Charles approaches to lean against the frame.
The cold room is crammed too, with barrels, beer lines and gas cylinders all over the floor.
Loris is bending forwards to connect a coupler to a new keg, and his tight jeans completely cancel out the refrigeration unit in Charles’ view.
‘How long is your break?’
‘Half an hour. But I need to eat. You’re a great snack, but you’re not gonna keep me going until my friends let me go to bed.’
‘There’s a piece of pie in your fridge.’
‘I had it before my shift. I was meant to thank you for that.’
Loris’ boyish pout contrasts with his dishevelled appearance. For a beat, Charles blots out the plan he had in mind. But when Loris sweeps him along, whispering a ‘Thanks’ against his cheek, it rushes back, more specific than ever.
‘Does Patty come down here?’
‘Not anymore, you’ve seen the staircase. Why? If you’re implying that I’m responsible for the mess—’
Charles pins him against the next fridge.
Loris hooks his thumbs over Charles’ belt, smiling into the kiss, obviously content with an unhurried soft one.
Charles disagrees with all his heart and hitches up Loris’ jumper to follow his V-lines.
Loris quivers and smiles again, until Charles undoes the buttons of his jeans and slides his hand inside.
Loris jolts. ‘Charles...’
‘Is it alright?’
‘I’m at work.’
‘You’re on break.’
‘Still very much at work.’
Charles is tingling from head to toe at the feel of Loris’ dawning erection. ‘That’s a no, then?’
‘No…’
‘So, yes?’
Loris nuzzles in the crook of Charles’ neck with a deep breath, which Charles interprets as permission to caress him. A permission confirmed a second later when Loris pushes both his waistbands down below his hips.
Charles cups his chin with his free hand and pulls him into the sanity-erasing kiss he’s counting on to avoid overthinking what he’s doing, while he’s doing it.
There would be clues to read in the scratches Loris is leaving on his back, in order to find the rhythm he truly likes, but Charles is too enraptured.
He’s been in sole control of someone else’s pleasure before, but relating to it increases the thrill tenfold.
And when Loris spasms, carving new nail marks that will take a while to fade away, a rush of blistering energy courses through Charles’ nervous system.
He loosens his grip, laughing at Loris’ babble against his jawline.
‘Are you actually lost for words?’
‘You were supposed to kiss me into vocabulary amnesia.’
‘Once revealed, a strategy expires.’
‘I knew you were bad news. Who’s responsible for the mess now?’
Charles grabs a kitchen roll from the closest shelving unit. He hands it to Loris, who’s such a lascivious vision, Charles turns away before another plan roars in his mind.
‘There’s a water point in there, right?’
He doesn’t wait for an answer to open the door, in need of a minute in the cold room anyway. He washes his hands under a hose coiled in a corner, then presses them against his burning cheeks.
Loris joins him, his jeans up but still undone. ‘This can’t become a habit.’
‘No, I won’t visit you at work in the future. It’s unsatisfying.’
‘Unsatisfying, sure.’
Loris flips the hose and Charles barely escapes the spurt.
Back on the couch, Loris offers to share the plate of samosas he kept in one of the fridges, but Charles is too buzzing to eat.
‘When are you off next?’ he asks, bringing Loris’ free hand onto his thigh, to follow and learn its exact shape.
‘Thursday.’
‘Can you save the evening for me?’
‘Another ambitious strategy?’
‘I’ll come up with something.’
‘Exciting... Yeah, it’s yours.’
Charles’ heart expands at the thought, and at all the thoughts he will have until then.
But as they settle into a comfortable silence, Charland issues an alert. For all the reassurance he got since they reunited, his tenacious angst-ridden nature might keep on throwing most of his scenarios off course.
‘You haven’t answered my question.’
‘Which one?’
‘If you resent me. If my good looks will be enough to forever eclipse a grudge you’re holding.’
‘You’re still wondering?’
‘Anxious mess here.’
‘No, I don’t resent you. And I’ll tell you if you ever do something that outshines your looks. But try not to.’
Charles replies, ‘Alright,’ against Loris’ lips that taste like spices and genuine fondness. Then he tilts his head and frowns. ‘Hey, when will you finish reading The Mind of Wonders to honour your end of the bargain?’
‘Unbelievable!’
Loris shoves a samosa into Charles’ grinning mouth.
Charles stays at the pub for another hour. He drinks a third beer and explains how his mindset evolved from his tormented voice note to his drunk strip-tease.
When Aliah texts Loris that she will be here soon, Charles gathers his things. He’s far from ready to have their developing relationship observed by anyone, let alone Loris’ friends.
Besides, he’s back to feeling frustrated that they can’t experiment new ways to forget the English language.
A frustration that triples when he hugs Loris to say goodbye.
But it’s self-inflicted – as the seven customers are seven too many pairs of eyes – so he swallows it.
And the sunny smile he receives, before he passes through the door, withers the remorse that threatened again to take root in his stomach.
Charles’ parents are out for the night, which thickens the cloud he’s walking on.
Once at home, he puts together a plate of leftovers to pick at while he writes and, on his way up the stairs, he takes down the framed photo of Fred and Heloise to toss it out.
21:12 Meeting you has helped me in more ways than you can imagine. I promise I’ll explain soon.
21:16 WITH ONE L Whenever you’re ready
21:16 WITH ONE L You didn’t give me back my keys