XV #2
“Which one should I use?” Charlie asked as he picked up one of the putters.
Lucky leaned his club against the wall before he went to help Charlie.
They found one that seemed to fit well with the priest’s height.
Lucky helped him get situated on the platform so he was in a safe space and wouldn’t accidentally tumble off the ledge.
He dropped the pink ball on the tee and watched with a small smirk as Charlie tried to get into position.
“Am I doing this right?” Charlie asked.
“Not at all,” Lucky said with a laugh.
He grabbed his own club again and stood next to Charlie.
He showed him how to position his hands, how to bend.
Every part of him wanted to get behind the priest, grab his fingers, feel him against him, make it like a cheesy romcom.
It wouldn’t be right, though. The thought wouldn’t leave him be, but he was trying to behave.
Charlie swung and missed. He went at it hard and almost lost his grip on the club.
“Take it slow,” Lucky said quietly.
“Sorry.”
“All good. It takes practice. Try again.”
The second attempt was no better. Charlie started to get teary-eyed, his blush pink lip began trembling.
Lucky looked at him with some worry, and he started to wonder if Charlie’s perfectionism was causing the severe anxiety over recent days.
If he worried that he’d be scolded if he messed up.
Lucky understood more deeply than he wanted to.
“Hey,” Lucky said as he set his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “You’re too in your head. This isn’t as serious as you’re making it.”
“I’m sorry.”
Lucky sighed. Charlie was on the verge of a full breakdown. It would be impossible to help him with their height difference… That’s when an idea struck him.
“Do you want help?” Lucky asked.
“You’re too tall,” Charlie mumbled. Apparently he’d had the same thought.
With a beat of hesitation, he shifted into his human form, grimacing at the pain of his horns retreating into his head and his body shrinking to fit the build of a normal-ish man.
He had to roll the much too long sleeves of his button up to keep them from slipping, but he’d become prone to wearing shorter slacks to not only show off his beautiful ankles but to accommodate for an emergency shift if he were to be seen on Earth.
Thankfully, Charlie had turned away to wipe his eyes and hadn’t seen the awkward shift.
He walked behind the priest and set one hand gently on the human’s forearm, the other on his hip. Charlie flinched and looked up at him. Lucky smiled reassuringly.
“You… really can become a human…” Charlie whispered.
“Told you. Let me help…. Easy, easy, hold it like this. Move this hand a tad,” Lucky coached him.
He gently shifted Charlie’s body into the proper position, talking through each of the changes he made to his posture and hold.
Then he helped guide the arc of Charlie’s swing.
It was difficult with their size difference since Lucky had only lost about a foot of height, but they did a few practice swings together.
Once Charlie loosened up and listened to Lucky, he added some force.
The club connected with the ball. The trajectory was abysmal, but it went soaring with enough speed that it was hard to keep track of before it dropped into the fiery abyss.
The power mostly came from Lucky’s supernatural strength, but it was enough to excite the human. Charlie was so engrossed in it he almost spun himself off the ledge. Lucky grabbed him by the waist and kept him from falling.
Charlie shot his arms up with excitement, almost clipping Lucy in the temple with the club.
The priest set the back of his head against Lucky’s body.
His glasses had slid down his nose a tad and he was all smiles despite the watery sheen over his eyes.
That blush had returned to those freckled cheeks.
Lucky wasn’t sure if it was from the excitement or the self-indulgent belief that seeing the prince in this new way—seeing him as a human—had made Charlie realize he was worth the time and attention.
Charlie was happy, that was all that mattered.
“Good job. We’ll make a pro out of you yet,” Lucky said with a soft grin that still held his fangs. “Want to know a secret?”
“Maybe?”
“God loves golf. He’s a huge fan, and this is my favorite way to unwind so we can come back whenever. It’s kind of fun, right? Worth a try?”
“Yes, thank you…” Charlie bit his lip. “You can let go of me now.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Lucky cursed himself for saying it out loud. “I mean… what if you fall?” he stammered.
“R-right, I am clumsy,” Charlie whispered.
Charlie went to step away but Lucky tightened his grip on his waist. Charlie let out a small yelp as he was pulled back. Lucky buried his face into the priest’s shoulder and shakily wrapped his arms around him.
“Can’t a guy get a hug?” Lucky asked with a pitiful tone.
“Y-you really must be stressed,” Charlie said nervously.
“Yeah, I am,” Lucky said.
The priest finally acknowledged him. Lucky pouted.
“Do you want one?” Charlie asked.
“I…”
Charlie shifted. Lucky was already in an awkward position, but it made it easy for Charlie to wrap his arms around his neck in a manner that felt more intimate than it should have.
Lucky set his palm on Charlie’s low back and held him tight.
With a smirk, he set his other hand on the underside of the human’s thigh and hoisted him up.
Charlie yelped in surprise, and the prince couldn’t help but throw his head back and laugh as he brought the priest effortlessly up to his eye-level.
Charlie held on for dear life as Lucky, once again, buried his face into the dip of his shoulder.
He smelled so sweet, so unlike everything else in Hell.
“I’ve got you,” Lucky promised. He followed Charlie’s sight line out into the fiery distance. “What’s got you so enraptured?”
“It’s… prettier than I’d imagined it would be,” Charlie admitted.
Lucky shifted back to gaze at Charlie’s face from this new angle. “Yeah, it is…”
Charlie cut his eyes to him with a pale eyebrow raised at the comment.
Lucky wanted to kiss him so badly. He wanted to drown in the icy ocean of his eyes, count every freckle on his face and spend the rest of eternity yearning for him.
He wanted to grab hold of his vertebrae like ladder rungs to a Heaven he’d never see and memorize the way his back curved under his touch.
Wanted to scorch his neck with the heat of his tongue and spend every damn second of every damn day from now until the Earth exploded, and every day after that, tucking that stupid twisted lock of hair back into place.
He didn’t want Charlie to go to Heaven, he didn’t want to be alone, and he was an asshole for it. He knew it couldn’t even be an option let alone a reality. It could never work, so he wanted to savor the one moment he’d be able to hold his little priest in his arms in a way that felt intimate.
For a fleeting second, he pretended this was how it was always meant to be.
In a version of Hell that seemed silent and the only souls that existed were him and the priest. Where he wasn’t a prince, and Charlie wasn’t a man of God.
They were simply two idiots playing golf and avoiding paperwork, standing over a literal pool of hellfire like it was the most normal thing imaginable.
In his long life, Lucky had never felt like he was worth more than the weight of the souls until this moment.
In Charlie’s eyes, Lucky wasn’t a harbinger of death or something to be feared.
He was simply a man looking a little too longingly, holding on a bit too tightly, and wishing too desperately that this was what his afterlife could be.
It was impossible to deny it at this point, and he didn’t want to. He’d started to fall for Charles Reed Wickham.