Work Text:
The first time: By accident
“I am taking Niko with me, you two ask for witness statements.”
“Are you sure?”
Edwin waved his hand in their general direction. His journal already out and open, Niko's arm linked with his own.
“I believe it is quite safe to split up now. The sun is out, and all parties have moved on to their respective afterlifes. I just need more witness accounts. All of this escalated faster than expected, and you do know how much I dislike open questions.”
Charles did know that, he'd known for a long time. He'd known since about two days after they met. Crystal rolled her eyes but indulged Edwin's behavior, already walking off. He thought about answering, but it wouldn't have done him any good, Edwin was already on his way to a group of excitedly chatting women near the edge of the forest.
He quickly caught up with Crystal and together they started rounding up different ghosts to question them on what they had seen or heard. He tasked Crystal with writing down the answer, because while she hated doing that, she hated his handwriting even more.
After half an hour, they had spoken with almost everyone. Their last witnesses turned out to be an old, irish married couple, who had died of carbon monoxide poisoning, left the little gas stove on and didn't open a window.
While they were willing and even excited to answer their questions, and give them a detailed description of what they had seen, they wouldn't stop bickering. Not even for one second.
“No Robert! Did ya go blind too while you went and kicked the bucket? Her dress was navy blue and not dark blue! Now, son, don't you write that down, he doesn't know what he's talking about, that one. Listen, it was like this…”
“Mary, but you forgot, she was holding something too. Was some knife, that was. I saw it!
“Not a knife but a cleaver! See children, this is why you cannot let a man into your kitchen, he will go and call a butter knife a weapon! You have to excuse my husband, he was old when he died.”
“I call a butter knife a weapon right when I want to. See, son, in my Mary's hand, it is a weapon, you understand?”
“Right it is! And don't you try anything with me in my house!”
And on it went. Edwin had sent them to ask questions, get a witness account, but they didn't really do a lot of asking. Crystal had gone silent, and while she was clearly amused she also seemed to be way out of her depth. She had stopped writing some minutes ago, her mouth open, while their conversation quickly lost any coherence at all.
They were getting nowhere with this.
“My husband…”
“My wife..”
And maybe that was the reason why it happened at all.
When he saw Crystal's helpless look, he turned, raising his hand and cutting them off as politely as possible. They would need Edwin's pointed questions and inherent authority for this.
Catching his eye, he must have looked as pleading as Crystal had, because Edwin nodded curtly and wrapped up his own questions.
>>Thank god.<<
Turning towards the couple, meeting their questioning eyes, he rushed to explain.
“Sorry about that, my husband will be here soon, he'll take over so please don't worry.”
>>My husband will be here soon<<
>>My husband will be here<<
>>My husband<<
Their witnesses looked surprised, maybe uncomfortable, but not angry. Crystal looked surprised too, the questions on her lips threatening to spill over.
None of them was more surprised than Charles though. He didn't want to know what kind of look he had on his face, standing there completely frozen.
He hadn't meant to say that. He really, really had not meant to say that. He'd wanted to say >partner<, because they were. In many ways. But not this, not here.
When he heard Edwin coming up behind them, because he knew what his steps sounded like so well, he pulled Crystal close with a rough tug, shaking his head at her when she opened her mouth to ask.
Don't say anything!
She didn't, and luckily their witnesses kept quiet as well. They answered all of Edwin's well constructed and straight forward questions without much fuss, taking breaks here and there to fawn over Niko.
Their friend was even bubblier than usual, enjoying this kind of field-work much more than she had enjoyed stalking through this forest in the dark. Especially Mary, he should've asked for their last names, was absolutely smitten with her and her ladybird-earrings. Edwin had helped to pick those out a week ago, and Niko had been wearing them a lot.
On their way back, taking the bus on account of their living friends, he caught Crystal alone.
“What the fuck was that? Did you two get married?”
“No, that's not…”
“Without inviting us? What the hell Charles?”
“No! Look, okay. It was an accident! I didn't mean to say that, I wanted to say >partner<! But they kept on saying >my husband< and >my wife< and that just tripped me up, okay?”
“So you didn't get married?”
“No! I don't even think ghosts can get married! Never heard of that, so…”
“Oh my God, that means you thought about it! Wait, do you wanna get married?”
Slowly a wide, wicket smile grew on her face. Sharp, purple sparks in her dark eyes. She looked delighted. She looked evil.
It was the same smile that had made him want to kiss her, years ago. Now it signaled only danger.
He shushed her, frantically, which made her giggle.
“I don't know! The point is, it was an accident! Don't tell him. Please!”
“I won't, come on, what do you think of me? Don't answer that, you asshole!”
She didn't say anything.
And Charles was left with a lot to think about.
The second time: On purpose
And Charles thought about it a lot , not constantly, but still. He thought about it when he saw couples with wedding rings. He thought about it when Niko made them watch one of her Korean Dramas.
He thought about it when Edwin kissed him, when he played with the cross hanging from his ear, when he made him laugh.
So he thought about it a lot, Edwin kissed him often, Edwin had a weakness for that earring that Charles refused to think of as >sweet< - it was , and Edwin loved to make him laugh.
So he thought about it.
About how it had felt to say it - mortifying, like he'd opened up a door he didn't even know was there. His heart suddenly bared for all to see.
How he felt about it now - it was lucky that he couldn't blush, because he would've walked around with a red face constantly.
Did he want to do it again?
Had Edwin noticed - probably, but they had a deal that Charles needed to address stuff that Edwin couldn't pick up from context clues alone, so he didn't say anything.
Did he want to do it again? >>I don't know<<
Would it make a difference - not really, everyone called them a married couple either way, and they were a couple, in all ways one could be.
Did he want to do it again? >>I don't want to think about that<<
But did he?
>>Do I want to do it again? I don't know…<<
>>Maybe<<
Did he want to do it again - Yes.
Easier said than done - ignoring that it hadn't been easy to say or think - because when would he ever have the chance to do that?
Waiting for it to just slip out again made zero sense. It really had been an accident the first time, he wasn't lying about that. It wouldn't happen again, not by accident, so he had to do it on purpose.
When he found himself in the pews of a shabby football field, watching two teams compete to score at least one single goal, he finally found the strength to do it on purpose.
Charles hadn't thought it would happen today, he hadn't planned it.
Really, he had just wanted to see a football game, and he'd come alone. Crystal wouldn't have come either way, she didn't care for it. Niko sometimes joined him, with genuine enjoyment too, but a new episode of a GL she was watching aired at the same time, and she didn't want to miss it.
Edwin had offered to join, but Charles had declined.
Years ago, many years ago, he would've said yes. And Edwin would sit next to him, keeping track of the players and the goals, actively engaging with the game. Charles had been convinced that Edwin liked to do it, because he never once complained.
Over time he'd notice that Edwin had to squint his eyes to bear the lights, that he sat even straighter than usual, shying away from the crowd even if they couldn't touch him. Charles noticed that his friend cramped up or flinched every time it got loud, which was often, it was a football match and most everyone was completely drunk.
It was a clearly unpleasant experience for him, and when Charles had asked if he even liked football, he'd been told a clear no.
“No, I do not care for it, personally.”
The >but you do<, hung unsaid in the air.
So Charles went alone.
Neither of the teams was good and the weather was awful, but Charles still had fun. The crowd was loud and passionate, clearly drunk but still civil. They ate, drank and laughed, yelling at players, other fans or even the referee.
Charles was yelling too, not that he would be heard.
“Mind if I join?”
Charles turned around, and came face to face with a woman who looked to be in her early forties. He shook his head, scooting over to the right, so she could sit down.
“Thanks mate. Not every day that I find someone I can actually talk to at one of these. Who're you rooting for?”
“No one really, or both of them. I don't think it matters here.”
“Yeah, I feel ya. They're both pretty rubbish.”
They both laughed, and then cheered on number 6 while he attempted to get close to the goal. It stayed an attempt.
“No, but really , what is that guy doing? Does he even know how to play?”
“I don't think he does, he's just here for the fun of it. Damn, look at that, did he just pretend to get hurt?”
“He's an even worse actor, that was embarrassing.”
The conversation went easy, complaining about incompetent football players was always a good pastime.
When the shrill whistle signaled the end of the game, 0 to 0, they stayed seated, waiting for everyone to leave.
“Ah, that was fun. You know, when I was alive, I could never get any of my friends to watch them with me. Not even my boyfriend would come. He was a baseball kinda guy, yeah? I had to switch channels when I was watching so he wouldn't throw a tantrum.”
“What an asshole.”
“Yeah. He puts decorations for my favourite teams on my grave now, so it's okay. I think.”
This was it, this was the moment Charles had been waiting for. Now he had to say it. On purpose.
“You know. My…husband”, he'd said it, holy fuck , “he doesn't care about football at all. Actually, he's really uncomfortable with crowds and loud noises, but… He still joined me. He would've come today too, if I had asked him.”
He had actually said it. It felt good , saying it. He wanted to say it again.
“Damn, you're lucky. My boyfriend wouldn't have been caught dead here. Hah! Dead… Got yourself a good one.”
She clapped a hand on his shoulder, and they said their goodbyes.
As he walked home, he couldn't help smiling. He was still giddy from it, when he distracted Edwin with kisses until he pushed away his work to pull him onto his lap. Hands pushing under his clothes and up his back, tracing his spine.
The work could wait for tomorrow.
The third time: Out of Spite
What was it with forests? Really, why couldn't fucked up stuff happen in the middle of a city or in a well-lit building or something? This was getting absolutely ridiculous.
They didn't know what was going on or, much more likely, Edwin knew and hadn't told them yet. In all fairness, they couldn't really hold a conversation right now. Not with all that running and stumbling around.
They had misjudged, really misjudged. They had expected to ask a few questions, look at the place before doing research. Instead they had been thrust into action right when they arrived.
They had thought this would be calm, logical work. Which was why Niko was here. Niko who was smart and reliable. Asking the good questions. A great detective, as Edwin would say.
The one thing she wasn't though, was a fighter. Easily scared, a bit clumsy and not able to actually defend herself against either supernatural or natural threats. Unlike Crystal who had her psychic abilities and was becoming a very capable boxer.
Annoyingly, today they were dealing with both supernatural and natural threats. For whatever reason, a couple of ghosts had decided to possess some humans, which meant they had bodies that did some real damage to the living.
They had seen the corpses on the ground, the confused and terrified ghosts that were now also here.
And because Niko was here, Edwin protected her like a lioness would her cub. This didn't only make Edwin unreliable, but it also made it stupidly hard for Charles to protect him .
Maybe that was unfair, to all of them. Edwin wouldn't be happy if he knew what Charles was thinking. It was true though. Edwin fought with his brain and Charles with his body, if they could help it. All of Charles' instincts were focused on protecting him.
Normally Edwin had a plan, and a plan for when that plan failed. He had plans for situations exactly like this, but none of these plans had included a living person before. That meant that Edwin's movements were unpredictable, because he wasn't trying to keep himself safe, but Niko. Losing her once had been horrible for him, and while wounds healed those scars wouldn't ever go away.
With Edwin this erratic, Charles was incredibly stressed. Eyes scanning their surroundings wildly, he moved in a disjointed circle around his friends, analysing each of their movements and any movement between the trees. He couldn't know in which form the danger would present itself. Corporeal, as a ghost? It was anyone's guess. Charles felt like someone had run 3000 Volt of electricity through him.
They got through it. A busted lip, because Crystal had caught a fist to the face - she had absolutely decimated that man after, and only let up when the ghost that had possessed him left that body. A few scratches, because Niko had fallen, not because she had been hurt by anyone else. No one had even gotten close to her, Edwin was surprisingly vicious when he had to be.
Edwin and Charles had gotten attacked, but the wounds didn't show. They could feel them though, it wasn't fun.
The physical pain was fine. It was what came after that actually hurt.
It turned out that this whole thing was some sort of fucked up hate crime. Ghosts possessing people and hunting other people that were, well. Queer.
Charles hated the look on Edwin's face, something that would've been fit on a face much older than his. But then again, Edwin was much older than Charles, and even to this day, Edwin kept some secrets to himself. Things that he just couldn't talk about, even if Charles could guess.
He'd turned his back to them all, composing himself, hiding it away so completely, as if nothing had ever been there. Niko didn't leave his side, it was her turn protecting him now, and she'd be damned if she wasn't doing her part.
Charles' heart hurt when he saw how strong the grip of Edwin's hand on hers was. As if she was his only lifeline right now.
He wished he could be closer, but he was keeping a seal alive that kept their offenders stuck until Death arrived. And as Edwin was talking to the victims of the attacks, it only made sense to keep them as far away as possible.
Charles hoped they could stay long enough to see their killers go to hell.
“You know something, boy?”
Charles hated him.
“You shouldn't hang around with that sort. You look like a good lad. Strong, a real man. You never know with those queers”, he said the word like a slur, like he was spitting on the ground. He said it the same way that they had when Charles had been young. It had been years since he had heard that word said with so much venom , instead of pride.
It hurt. For himself and for them, it hurt.
“You never know, I tell you. The way he stands, how he walks, I bet he's peeping at you. Better be careful, he'll try something, I've heard it's contagious.”
Charles hurt, and he hated, and he was angry.
It wasn't right, it never had been right. It made him want to punch his face right in, especially when the others laughed. Break their noses, smash in their bones, scatter their souls everywhere.
He didn't do any of that. But…
“Yeah, you think so? That's funny, you see, that's my husband you're talking about.”
He watched them be pulled to hell, screaming and kicking, and their victims watched it too. He held Edwin's other hand as the group of people he didn't know but that he felt so close to was guided to safety with soft blue light.
“I forget sometimes”, Edwin said as they left, the mood sullen, “that no matter how much time passes, some things are still the same. They are better, but they are still just the same.”
“I know.”
“Do you think there will be a time, some day, where I… they do not have to be scared anymore?”
Edwin had corrected himself, but Charles had heard, had understood. And he hurt again.
The fourth time: Out of Fear
Charles had the sense that this shouldn't be happening . The problem with that was, that he didn't actually know what was happening at all. He only vaguely remembered coming here, all four of them, and now he was alone.
He didn't understand. This shouldn't be happening. It shouldn't be real . It felt real. It felt so real.
Just a few minutes ago they had still been together, and then the world had gotten weird. All warped and foggy and grey. He was in the city, at least he knew that much. NOt a forest this time, it was almost worse.
Because he knew what it should look like, and it didn't. And the longer he stumbled through the streets, the more normal this all seemed. And it wasn't . It wasn't normal.
He was alone and the world was wrong . He felt so much smaller than he used to be. The buildings stretched so far to the sky, as if they had been pulled long like gummy. Twisting up obscenely, wobbly and mushy and weird.
If he looked too long it felt like they were coming at him, falling to bury him beneath grey rubble and erasing him forever. They creaked and cracked viciously, alive and the only noise there was. Because everything else was silent. The cars were crossing and he saw the mouths of the crowd moving, but there was no sound.
He was all alone and the world had gone weird . Grey like ash was coating everything there was, the sky like cigarette-smoke. He was running now, and the ash was trying to get into his throat. It made him cough and press the inside of his jacket to his mouth.
He was still breathing it in, and he couldn't stop. He didn't need to breathe but the ash started clawing its way down to his lungs, filling him up like an hourglass, making him heavy and full. Weighed down, he slowed to a walk.
He needed to find his friends, he needed to find Edwin . But he was all alone and the world had gone terrible . And he couldn't remember what it felt like to be somewhere else. He couldn't remember not being heavy and full, couldn't remember what colours looked like, barely remember any sounds besides the buildings closing around him. He had to run, he had to find them, before he forgot their faces too. It had started already. Cold terror like a claw on his neck.
They were looking at him. The people. With their grey, dreadful eyes. Staring at him, seeing him so completely. They knew everything he was now, and everything he had ever been. It almost ruined him, because they knew, and he couldn't remember anymore . Who was he searching for? What did he need?
His hands were caked with grey dust, they looked so much older than they had ever gotten to be. Like chalk, cracking and brittle. They felt dry. And it was crawling up his arms now. The next time he coughed a cloud of dust came from his lips.
He was all alone, he'd always been all alone, and his world was terrible. And everyone was staring at him.
Maybe if he stood really still, he'd grow into one of those houses. Tall, and grey, warping up to the sky. Watching him and screaming for help with their croaking voices.
He was , and he didn't want to be .
“Charles…”
So quiet, he barely heard it.
“Charles, where are you?”
Who was Charles? What was that voice? He had never heard it before. He'd never heard anything beside that creaking, everywhere.
“Charles, please!”
>>Please<<
He didn't know that voice, but he couldn't not listen. Not when it begged. It tore at him, it burned at his feet, so he started moving again. He'd do anything.
“Charles, please help me!”
>>Help me!<<
“Yes…”
He would. There was no possibility he could ignore this voice. He'd have to help. He would find him. Wherever he was, he would find him. He needed to find him, quick. Right now.
“Charles, help!”
“I'm coming, please! Wait for me!”
It dragged him to the ground, every breath was dust now, and he had to crawl to follow the voice.
The tips of his fingers shattered and crumbled away when he dragged himself over the ground with them. His knees left crumbs of grey ash behind, as he crawled on his bones.
They were all looking at him, and now they closed a circle. Their legs, like iron bars, like a prison around him. He couldn't pass, even as he was hitting at them with the stumps of his arms, breathing and coughing dust.
“Please”, he croaked out, voice like gravel, “ please let me go. You don't understand. He needs me!”
But they were unmovable, like stone, more steady than the buildings screaming at him to give up.
“Please, I need to find my husband. I need to know what colour his eyes are. Please let me go…”
And when he couldn't move, his body whittled away like sandstone, and he couldn't hit at them anymore, his last look was in the direction of the voice calling him. And when it all went dark…
He opened his eyes to the sky. So wide and blue, it was a shock to his entire system. His whole body cramped up, back arching. Trying to take in a breath, so violent it actually hurt.
“What? What the fuck was… What? ”
They would never talk about the sound he made, when Edwin came into view. First blurry around the edges, then rapidly clearing up. He pulled Charles' head into his lap, petting his hair soothingly.
And Charles had to touch him too, because he felt like he had forgotten how it felt to have anyone else with him at all. Still cramped up, his hands were clumsy. Patting at Edwin's face and pulling at his hair. But Edwin didn't seem to mind at all.
He kept trying to breathe and it wouldn't stop hurting. Like he was trying to force gravel through his airways.
“Edwin, what happened?”
“It's okay, Charles. You are okay. Just look at me, come on…”
He tried , he really did. But the voice, Edwin's voice, calling for him still echoed through his head.
“Are you hurt? I heard you calling me! You called me and I tried so hard , but they wouldn't let me and I couldn't move and…”
Helpless to express what had happened, he broke off, searching Edwin's face for any signs of pain or fear.
“Everything is okay, I am not hurt, I promise. Can you do one thing for me?”
>>Anything<<
He nodded, because talking hurt as much as breathing did. It wasn't often that his body experienced pain. He hadn't missed it.
“Charles”, that was his name , it was his… “no, Charles, listen to me! Okay? Good. I need you to stop breathing. Can you do that?”
“What?”
The panic that had loosened up just a little when Charles had seen Edwin, came back full force.
“No, Edwin, I can't! You know that I…”
“I know, I know, and I'm so sorry. Look at me! I know you do not like it, I know it scares you. But you really need to trust me. Can you do that? For me?
He could. He trusted Edwin with everything he was. He had for years, he had for longer than he could remember by now. It was only because of that, only because Edwin had asked, that his chest stopped moving and his lungs stopped working.
And he hated it, he'd always hated it. He might be one of the only ghosts who was always breathing, never taking a break. Because it felt wrong , it was like drowning all over again. And it scared him.
But Edwin wouldn't make him do it if there wasn't a reason. So he held very still. Tears running from his eyes and disappearing into his hair.
Looking determined and heartbroken at the same time, Edwin pressed a hard kiss onto his forehead, before picking up a cloth from the ground next to them.
It was dripping with some dark substance that Charles couldn't pinpoint. He pressed it to his mouth and, with an apologetic wince, between his lips, against his teeth and tongue. Careful, soft swipes, while Charles held desperate eye contact.
When the cloth was finally lifted off of his face, it was coated with soft looking grey puffs. It reminded him of pollen.
“You can breathe now, it's okay. I have you.”
He took his text breath like it was the first one he'd ever taken. It came clean and painless. For some time it was the only thing he could do. Head bedded in Edwin's lap, his hands in his hair, breathing and looking at the sky.
“What happened?”
“You accidentally triggered an old witch-trap. When we finally found you, your face was covered in spores. It was in your mouth too. I think it was trying to digest you.”
“What's with the others?”
“They are fine, it's completely harmless to the living. I sent them off with my book to disable the other traps while I got your face free. Based on the information I had, there must be hallucinogenic qualities to that spore. I am not sure though.”
“Oh there sure fucking were! Jesus Christ! ”
“Oh?”
He shook his head.
“I'll tell you later, I want to get away from this fucked up place, like, right now! ”
The fifth time: Pure Happiness
For a lot of different reasons, Charles had loved to be outside when he was alive. Sure, he enjoyed watching the telly, or spending time at friend's homes, but for most of the time he was outside. Meeting up with people, doing sports, sneaking out to go to a game or to a concert, or just going to a party.
One thing that he hadn't done was play board games. He had played poker before, but that was also at a party and he hadn't done it because he was interested in it or something. They had all done it, because it was cool and because they liked betting on random stuff. They didn't really have money to bet on at the time.
When he met Edwin, he found out really quickly that while his new friend was absolutely comfortable outside, he much preferred reading. He also loved board games.
“Moving pictures were not really accessible to me when I was growing up. And they are not of much interest now. I prefer to read the books that inspired them.”
Edwin liked chess and had tried to teach him as well, in hopes that they could go against each other. After a while he gave up, not because Charles was bad at it, but because he'd ended up bored out of his mind. And most games were meant to be played with more than two players, so they didn't really do a lot with the games they actually had .
That changed when they met Niko and Crystal. Their friends, now in their mid-twenties, regularly forced Charles to sit at a table and play a variety of games, much to Edwin's delight.
“Just be happy we're not making you build a puzzle okay? Stop complaining!”
He never said it, but he was thankful for that.
If they didn't play one against all, they paired up. Usually Niko with Edwin and Crystal with Charles. This also meant that one team was much more likely to win by any means necessary, which in this case meant >cheating<.
Their opponents were too forgiving by far, but it was always a blast.
The only exception to their established teams was charades. Edwin and Charles had found out by accident that they were absolutely lethal as a team here, and would regularly and with great pleasure destroy the girls.
“It's fucking unfair, you've known each other for, what, like 40 years now? Can't we swap partners once?”
They never swapped in charades.
Today they had gone through a game of Ligretto - Charles had won with Edwin in second place, Monopoly - in which Crystal had become a filthy rich winner, and Settlers of Catan - Niko left them in the dust, it was brutal .
As they cleaned the table, Crystal spoke up. Normally their boardgame evening would be followed by dinner for the girls and one or two episodes of a drama Niko was watching at the moment, but today it seemed she had different plans.
“You know, we've never played Scrabble before, right? Should we give it a go?”
“For what? We've played for hours already, I thought you would be hungry?”
Edwin nodded.
“Charles is correct, it is already late, and I know neither of you had something to eat before coming here.”
“Awww, shame that you'd say that Edwin!”
Her eyes suddenly just as dangerous as her voice was sweet. While the two of them had turned out to be close friends, they had never grown out of their bickering. And while often amusing their humors didn't actually match up well enough to guarantee that none of them would get hurt.
“And why would you say that?”
“I'm just saying, you haven't won anything today, and I thought I'll give you another chance! See it as charity, we'll go easy on you, pinky-promise.”
She seemed very confident, and Charles knew immediately that Edwin would take the bait, not one to let his skills be challenged.
Really, did she have to do this tonight? He'd just been done cleaning and he wanted to know what happened on the show.
Niko and Charles shared a look, and with a sigh they went to find the game.
“I must say, Crystal, I did not think you a passionate scrabble player.”
“Don't judge a book by its cover my man, I've won every game I've ever played!”
“I am terrified , truly.”
Charles couldn't hide his amusement quickly enough, catching a scalding glare from his friend. He couldn't help it though, he liked when Edwin was just a little bit sarcastic.
Or as Crystal liked to say, “You like when he's a bitch, don't deny it!”
He didn't deny it.
They made the rules simple, any word that could be found in any English dictionary counted. As someone who liked winning, and preferred to do it often, Charles had actually started out trying his very best, and Niko seemed to do the same, but it soon became clear that none of them stood a chance against Crystal and Edwin.
It was a vicious fight, and after a few minutes it became clear that Crystal wouldn't win this one.
It turned out that Edwin kept multiple dictionaries in their home, and he knew in which version exactly he would find the word he had put down. She didn't stand a chance. It was a methodical, strategic, and deeply petty throwdown. It was also much, much more attractive than it had any right to be.
Sadly, Charles would have to yet put another adjective on the list of things he thought were hot about Edwin. >Competence<. This wasn't a sustainable relationship.
With rapt attention he watched as Edwin put down letter after letter, building words he hadn't ever heard before, then swiftly proving that they did actually exist. There was never even so much as a doubt in his voice. The picture of confidence.
Maintaining his poker face, whenever Crystal was looking and dropping the act to look insufferably smug.
He loved that man.
When the game was over, Edwin volunteered to put it away.
“Think of it as charity…”
With him gone, he couldn't help grinning at his friends, a completely embarrassing sense of pride bubbling up inside.
“Will you stop fucking doing that? Just a reminder, you didn't win here, so stop looking like you did!”
It was fully on purpose, because he was giddy and full of warmth and happiness, when he put his elbows on the table, propped his chin up, and whispered, “no, but that's my husband~”
The plus one: Edwin finds out
“What is with you today? You are even cuddlier than usual.”
Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was sitting on Edwin's lap, his face buried in his neck, pressed too close to fit even a sheet of paper between them.
“Are you complaining right now?”
Charles knew that he wasn't. Edwin was holding him just as tight, rubbing his nose over his cheek and his ear.
“I would not dream of it. Hmm, but you will have to admit that you are usually more energetic after an evening spent sitting at a table. We could go for a walk?”
He breathed a laugh into Edwin's neck, making him shiver against him. He buried just a bit deeper.
“You make me sound like a dog, you know?”
“Charles, you pick up cool sticks and bring them home from the park!”
“Point taken.”
He did do that, often. Some sticks were cool.
“Honestly, if you try to get any closer we might as well start sharing a body, what is up with you today?”
“We would share my body.”
“Why do you think that? I am taller than you, we could be sharing mine.”
“It's 'cause you think I'm hot, you do.”
“That is besides the point!”
Charles smothered his smile against Edwin's skin, giving it a little nibble. He really wasn't even trying to start anything tonight, he just wanted to be close.
“You are a menace, you know that?”
He answered with a happy, affirmative humming noise.
“Wait, let me just…”, and Edwin began manhandling him, fussing with his clothes while trying to keep him pressed against his chest as best as he could.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing, wait a second… There we go!”
And with quick, secure motions Edwin had opened his jacket and closed it behind Charles' back. The jacket was big, but not indented to hold two men, so it was a tight fit. Cocooned in, dark and protected, he sighed and let himself fall even deeper against Edwin.
“Would you like me to read something?”
“Nah. Let's just stay like this, okay?”
“Okay.”
Very much unlike Charles, Edwin could stay still for very long. He had a habit of playing with his fingers or fidgeting, but he'd been trained to suppress that urge since he'd been young. Something that Charles didn't agree with, but it was so ingrained into Edwin's behaviour there wasn't anything he could do.
Being able to stay very still came in handy in situations like this, because Edwin could hold him for hours without having to move, content with the silence. Charles would have to compensate by spending the night doing some form of fighting or exercise, but Edwin wouldn't have to do that.
That usually meant that he'd practice with his baton, or put on his boxing gloves while Edwin sat down to read, watching him over the edge of the book. Watching him intently . Letting his eyes travel .
He wouldn't change it for the world.
It felt like time was moving slowly, everything was peaceful and quiet. Which was why, when their ghostly postman suddenly appeared in their home, they jumped up like someone had attacked them.
Or, they tried to jump up. Because they were both still cocooned in that jacket, and there wasn't any room to jump up. Or any way to maneuver, or any way to see what was going on exactly.
Tumbling to the floor and wiggling around in an effort to free themselves, a confusing mix of arms and legs was extremely embarrassing.
And the look on the postman's face didn't make it any better. At all.
When they had finally sorted themselves out, Charles with a nervous laugh and Edwin with a piercing glare that was supposed to hide how awkward he felt, the man offered them their mail.
There was a smile, almost hidden under his beard, a twinkle in his eyes.
“Now, pardon me for asking, what might the two of you have been doing there?”
And this time it was mostly an accident, in the sense that Charles could have stopped the word from coming out at the last second, had he chosen to. And he didn't choose to.
“What's that supposed to mean? Can't a man spend some quality time with his husband anymore? In his own home?”
It came out in equal parts smug and defensive. Charles didn't appreciate being looked at like that , and he wouldn't have it.
“No, I mean, yes . Of course! Very well… Wishing a pleasant evening then!”
And off he was, leaving Charles alone with the consequences of his actions.
When he found the courage he looked at Edwin, who stood very still. Back ramrod straight and eyes wide.
Charles forced himself to stay calm. He knew from experience that Edwin always needed some time to even figure out what he was feeling. The silence was not an answer or even a true reaction. He was assessing the situation, and Charles just had to be patient.
Then, slowly, Edwin turned his head to look at Charles, actually searching out eye contact for once.
“Oh. Hm . I…”, he tried, tipping his head to the side, such a tiny motion, barely noticeable.
“I do hope that that was not your idea of a proposal?”
There was no emotion in his voice, but Charles could see it for what it was. Edwin was shocked and overwhelmed. But there was also a wet glitter to his eyes. A slight tremble to his lips. His hands were pressed together so tightly that it looked painful.
“No. No, Edwin, I would get on one knee for that…”
The corners of Edwin's mouth twitched up sharply, and he looked up to the ceiling. He wouldn't do it now, it wasn't the right moment, but Charles usually told him that he wouldn't be able to find his composure hanging next to the ceiling-light.
“I have never worn jewelry before, you know?”
“Okay…”
“And I do not know if ghosts can get married, like that. I guess. Well, I guess it does not have to be in a church , right?”
“Right.”
“There must be a book on it somewhere, about all of that. I could find a spell or a ritual to make rings that we could wear. I mean, if we wanted rings. Only in that case, of course.”
“I am sure there is, Edwin. We're gonna figure it out, okay?”
“Charles?”
“Mhm?”
“Kiss me?”
Charles was on him before he even finished speaking, thumbs on his jaw, fingers on the back of his neck. Drinking his fill from Edwin's lips.
His husband flailed a bit before finding his footing, both of his hands coming to rest at Charles' cheeks, pulling him off roughly to change the angle.
Charles kissed him until Edwin started making those high, overwhelmed sounds in the back of his throat, trying to get him closer and push him away at the same time. He pulled away then, to breathe, smirking at the disgruntled face that Edwin made. Because he made it every single time they had to stop their makeout sessions to let Charles breathe. Of course, he'd never try to kiss him while he got the air he - didn't - need, but he still allowed himself to rock back and forth on his toes impatiently.
“You, Charles Rowland, are a menace! ”
He meant it too, Charles could tell, but Edwin sounded so thrilled and proud and happy , well, the only thing he could do was to pull him back down to catch his lips again.
They kissed until their feet caught at the coat, which was still on the floor, and they tumbled back down.
This time they stayed there.
Epilogue:
The first time Charles called Edwin his husband after that, was when they went out to eat with Niko and Crystal after a case. Edwin had immediately noticed their reaction, or lack thereof, and demanded an explanation.
“Well, Niko and I, we're just glad that he finally got it together. You know, he's been calling you that for months now, right?”
It wasn't like Charles wanted to get scolded, but it was honestly fine, when it was his husband doing it.