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Then Charles, ever fearless, raised the hand on Edwin’s shoulder to his hair – and ruffled it from its careful styling. Edwin hissed and batted his hands away, but Charles only took it as encouragement to try harder, laughing like a madman the whole time. “I don’t – Charles! – I don’t see the use of this exercise, no matter how many times you repeat it.” A lie: Charles would back off as soon Edwin truly put his foot down. But there was something about the glow of Charles’ face, his gentle grip on Edwin, the sheer playfulness of the fighting so different from a bully’s callous tormenting, that Edwin could never quite resist.

“Hoping to annoy you enough one day that you give me a proper fight!” Charles replied, wriggling through every gap in Edwin’s defence. “How else am I gonna train you to protect yourself?”

“I don’t need to protect myself. I have you,” Edwin said. Abruptly, the wrists caught in his hands went slack, causing his attempt at pushing Charles down to be both more forceful and more successful than intended. They spent a shocked moment in silence: Charles flat on his back, Edwin kneeling over him and pinning his wrists above his head, both of them panting from the exertion, their chests expanding and contracting in tandem. Edwin took the opportunity to transfer his grip on Charles’ wrists to one hand and half-heartedly ruffle Charles’ hair with the other, taking care not to damage the curls. They were exquisitely soft between his fingertips. Edwin expended quite some effort to prevent himself from lingering. “There,” he said briskly, “I do hope you’re satisfied now.”

Charles spent another wordless moment watching him with dark, lovely eyes. “Good start,” he finally admitted. “But –”

He moved too quickly for Edwin to notice, never mind defend against. All that Edwin knew was that he was quite suddenly on his back, blinking away stars, as a smirking Charles hovered over him. He was kneeling on Edwin’s thighs, far too close, and yet not close enough.

“Don’t leave someone’s legs free, next time,” Charles said, the words cocky in a way that Edwin should perhaps disapprove of. But how could he, when Charles’ tone had dropped into something low and honeyed? His necklace and earring swung freely in the space between them, a dazzling dance in the late-afternoon sunlight. Edwin wanted to close his teeth around them.

Instead, he chose the far more acceptable option of looping the necklace around a finger. “And my arms?” he asked belatedly, because Charles had not secured them, only braced himself against Edwin’s shoulders. To illustrate his point, he gave Charles’ necklace a sharp tug.

Charles did not answer the question, because Charles’ eyes were slipping shut and his lips were parting around a pretty gasp, the necklace slackening under Edwin’s finger as Charles followed the motion down –

“Charles…” Edwin whispered, and it was not quite a question and not quite a warning. If he were to be brutally honest with himself – something he rarely allowed – it was simply to feel the shape of it in his mouth.

There could be one of several possible reactions from Charles, varying in their probability and severity. Most likely, he would take it as a warning, and retreat with an easy laugh – an emotional blow, to be sure, but nothing Edwin could not survive. Or Charles might take it as a question, and stumble through an explanation about being caught up in the moment, but not to worry, for Charles did not and would never see him in any sort of romantic light. That would be a markedly painful experience. Or…

Or Charles would follow through, reckless as always, and kiss Edwin – only to jerk away, disgusted, when he remembered exactly who he was kissing. He would be kind, as he always was, but he would still inform Edwin that, although he accepted him as gay, he would not allow Edwin to take advantage of his friendship in such a manner. Maybe it would be better if they stopped staying together, yeah?

If that came to pass, Edwin doubted that any part of himself would ever be salvageable.

But Charles, ever contrary, chose none of the options. He remained mere centimetres above Edwin, no sign of laughter or a sheepish answer, and yet neither did he close the remaining distance between them, too rapidly for rational thought. He was watching Edwin with his lovely dark eyes, some emotion swimming in their depths. Altogether, it formed something far more deliberate than Edwin would ever have expected.

“Tell me to stop,” Charles said at last, breaking the charged silence between them. His voice was hoarse. Edwin swallowed with difficulty. Charles’ eyes dipped down, his ridiculously long lashes accenting the motion, until there could be no doubt that he was staring at Edwin’s mouth. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

Then, ever so slowly, he was closing the distance. Edwin couldn’t say a thing if he wanted to, his breath caught painfully in his chest. Tell me to stop, and I will. It placed control in Edwin’s hands. It implied –

It implied that if Charles were to choose, he would never stop at all.

And then Charles’ lips touched his, and all thoughts faded like mist under the morning sun.

Edwin had kissed and been kissed before, no matter what his friends’ jokes implied. Some of the experiences had even been enjoyable. But none of them had been with Charles. They were all guttering candles compared to the glow of a lantern, the blaze of a wildfire, the heat on the surface of the fucking sun. Everything else burnt clean away.

Yet, for all these characteristics, it was perhaps the gentlest kiss Edwin had ever received. Closed-mouth, chaste, the lightest brush of their lips. Charles had braced himself over Edwin so that they barely touched anywhere else, as if prepared for Edwin to halt the proceedings. For his part, Edwin doubted his willpower could ever extend that far. Soon they would need to come up for air, and even that thought was nearly too much to bear. Until then, Edwin would take every advantage he was allowed. He parted his lips and set his hand to the small of Charles’ back, pressing them chest-to-chest and swallowing the resulting gasp. As if Charles had only been waiting for a sign of assent, he deepened the kiss with fervour, taking Edwin’s bottom lip between his teeth, swiping his tongue over it and then into Edwin’s mouth. Edwin could hardly think beyond the sensations and the perfect weight of Charles on top of him, although he did expend some effort to explore every part of Charles that he could reach: the sharp vertebrae of his spine, the lines of his shoulder blades, the curls at the nape of his neck, the soft skin of his arms, the muscle flexing beneath. Edwin doubted he would ever forget the sensation of Charles’ exquisite body heat against him, even through that singlet, which did so poor a job of concealing him. Edwin would be penning a thank-you note to the manufacturers as soon as he could be bothered to stop kissing Charles – which looked to be never, at this rate.

Unfortunately, human bodies needed such pesky things as breath, and Edwin’s had been quite thoroughly stolen. He pushed Charles away at the shoulders, turning his face away for fear of what Charles’ expression would reveal, and gasped.

Charles immediately retreated, though thankfully not too far, constrained as he was by Edwin’s hold on him. He sounded breathless himself as he hesitantly asked, “Are you – ?”

Tell me to stop, and I will. Edwin shook his head and managed, between desperate breaths, “Don’t stop.”

“Oh,” said Charles, and then, “brills,” his smile audible. Edwin was not strong enough to withstand its lure, and he turned his face back to the sight of Charles beaming down at him. As soon as they met eyes, Charles winked and lowered his head to Edwin’s neck, setting his mouth to the length of it as if intending to leave not one square millimetre unkissed. Edwin sighed, tilting his head into it, and continued where he had left off in his exploration. Charles’ shoulders were as lovely as the rest of him, and there was something thrilling about sneaking a hand under his singlet to touch the bare skin beneath. Then up: his collarbone, the sides of his neck, his exquisite jawline (rather dangerous for Edwin’s health, thus far), the elfin points of his ears, the soft hair beyond it.

Edwin only intended to stroke his hand through Charles’ curls, knowing how they both enjoyed it, but at the exact same moment, Charles pressed first his lips and then his teeth to a spot under Edwin’s ear – wholly innocuous, except that it turned out Edwin was rather sensitive there. He made a noise at the sensation, shockingly loud and frightfully uncouth. The hand in Charles’ curls gripped tight and wrenched. Charles groaned. For a fraction of a second, Edwin feared that he had hurt him, that this would be enough to shock Charles awake and out of his arms entirely. And then Charles jerked against him, and Edwin became suddenly aware of both their states of arousal. His own was hardly surprising, given his feelings and Charles’ ministrations, but Charles’?

It was Charles that chose this moment to broke away, his expression taking on an embarrassed cast. “Shit, sorry – I’m –”

In perhaps the bravest act of his existence, Edwin maintained eye contact and pressed his hips up against Charles’, making his own hardness known. Charles’ mouth opened, but remained wordless, his lashes fluttering as his body followed Edwin’s inexorably down. They were pressed fully together now, and Edwin had long ago lost control of his hips, grinding up in desperate chase of pleasure, the friction simultaneously too much and not enough. He keened and hooked one leg over Charles’ thighs, forcing them impossibly closer. Charles moaned, and there could be no sound more beautiful. They were kissing more by accident than with intent, panting into each other’s mouths with their lips occasionally brushing. Their fingers were intertwined next to Edwin’s head, so similar and yet a world away from their playful wrestling…

Edwin went cold. “Wait,” he said, and, “Charles,” and, “Stop.”

Charles, who had already paused at the first interjection, reared back so rapidly that he fell off the couch. In any other scenario, Edwin would have laughed and begun teasing him already. Now, he could only watch, heart in his throat, as Charles sat up but kept his distance.

“Oh, fuck,” Charles said, which was not a promising start. He raked his hair back with, Edwin noticed distantly, a trembling hand. “Shit, Edwin, you okay? Did I –”

Edwin shook his head definitively. This was not Charles’ fault, after all. “I’m perfectly well, thank you. I simply… I don’t wish for there to be any confusion, regarding this development.”

Charles’ expression cycled through several different emotions, eventually settling on something that Edwin, after years of cataloguing, could recognise as forced cheer. “Listen, mate, if you don’t want this to mean anything –”

“That is precisely the opposite of what I want,” Edwin interrupted sharply. “Charles, I – I’m in love with you. As more than a friend, I’m afraid. And while I would do anything for you, I’d request that we not continue this, if you’d consider it meaningless.”

There. His biggest secret, revealed. It left Edwin feeling curiously light, as if he could simply float away.

But Charles’ face was all wrong. Edwin knew him better than anyone, could read his emotions from his face like he could for few others, and yet for the first time in years, Edwin doubted himself. Because Charles’ expression did not reflect horror or pity.

He looked… awestruck. All the signs were there, after all: the loose line of his shoulders, his arrested face, his parted lips and slack jaw and wide, shining eyes, caught only on Edwin. So close to pity, except that his mouth was starting to curl up at the corners, stretching into a smile that was pure relief.

“That’s precisely the opposite of what I’d consider it,” Charles parroted back, clambering back onto the couch. Gently, as if not to spook Edwin, Charles touched him first with hands at his collarbone, then trailed them up to cup his face. His gaze was soft as down. “Bloody hell, Edwin, d’you not how gone I am for you? How gone I’ve been from the start?” His eyes darted over Edwin’s face. The miracle of his sweet voice: “I’m in love with you, too.”

Edwin was trembling with the force of his emotions, yet a splinter of doubt remained lodged in his heart. “Charles, are you certain that –”

This time it was Charles who interrupted him, which, after his own interruptions, Edwin could acknowledge as deserved. Especially when it came in the form of a kiss, as good a case as any. With it, Edwin’s doubt faded. Of course Charles was certain. He would never gamble when Edwin’s emotions were on the line. And if he were serious about feeling this way since the start…

Edwin kissed his own answer back, pushing at Charles’ shoulders and following him down until they were horizontal once more, this time with Edwin on top. The slow simmer of his arousal, interrupted as it had been by their fraught conversation, was rapidly reaching its boiling point. He drew back from Charles to catch his breath against the onslaught, and then lingered a moment longer to appreciate the sight of Charles, spread out underneath him. Colour lay vividly along his cheekbones and in his kiss-bruised lips, his singlet rucked up and pushed aside from Edwin’s exploration, his lean chest heaving for breath beneath it. Under Edwin’s thorough stare, Charles’ only blushed more, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“You being on top of me should be illegal,” Charles mumbled, and then, at Edwin’s frown, explained, “’Cause I like it too much, yeah?”

“Oh,” Edwin said, and brushed his fingertips over Charles’ tragically unmarked throat, feeling him shiver. There was time; time for all this, and more. “I enjoy it as well.” He rolled his hips down, letting Charles feel the truth of it. By the sound of his moans, Charles had no complaints. He was hard, too, and Edwin could not resist grinding against him as he buried his face in Charles’ neck. Remembering what he had done before, he hitched Charles’ leg up and around him. The other leg followed, crossing neatly at the ankle, right at the small of Edwin’s back, and everything was abruptly more. It was all he could do to clutch Charles close, to bite down on the junction of his neck and shoulder, to inhale his heady scent – sandalwood and bergamot and spice and Charles – with greedy gasps, as each touch of their bodies wound the coil of desire tighter and hotter. Charles was moaning unabashedly, his head tilted back and his hands gripping Edwin’s hipbones to encourage him down, even as his own hips thrust up and up and up. Edwin was becoming rapidly certain that, even without the exquisite friction against his cock, he would be able to come from the sounds Charles made alone. The idle thought brought with it a deluge of images: Charles stripping down before him, allowing Edwin to look but not touch; Charles stroking himself, slow and sweet, his teasing gaze on Edwin from across the length of a room; Charles laughing brightly as Edwin dropped to his knees before him and begged to be allowed a single touch; Charles, Charles, Charles.

The desperate rhythm of his hips stuttered, but Charles was there to catch him. He sounded half out of his mind with pleasure as he said, “Fuck, Edwin, just like that, just like – ah! – c’mon, come for me, I want you to – I want to feel it, love, please –”

Whatever strained handhold Edwin had maintained on his self-control dropped clean away. He came with a shout of Charles’ name that scraped at his throat, and collapsed bonelessly into him. Charles’ arms were soothing on his back, little kisses being pressed to the side of his face, but his hips continued to twitch helplessly. He was still hard, which Edwin thought was rather unfair. Charles deserved the world – or, at the very least, his own Earth-shattering orgasm.

Unfortunately, Edwin was not in a state to do much. He turned his head to capture Charles in a kiss, deep and thorough, and simultaneously brushed his hand down Charles’ flank. His destination was rather obvious, he should think, and yet the first brush of his hand against Charles’ cock made Charles jerk as if he’d received an electric shock.

Edwin drew back, thoughts still hazy and useless, but knowing that was not the correct reaction. “You didn’t come,” he said uncertainly. “I thought… Should I not have?”

“Oh God, please touch me,” Charles said, as fervent as if he were truly praying, his eyes wide and blown-black, his hands reaching for Edwin. “No joke, I think I might die if you don’t.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t want that.” Edwin had meant the comment teasingly, and yet it emerged all too sincere. He did as he was asked, feeling out the shape of Charles’ cock, obscured as it was within his trousers. Perhaps he should undress Charles, but that could come later. For now, he was enjoying their half-dressed states and the desperation it spoke of. Although, that did remind him… He brushed his free hand down to Charles’ waistband, then reversing course, now under the singlet. Charles’ abdominal muscles jolted when he passed them, but Edwin had a different goal in mind. The first brush of his fingertips over the hard nub of Charles’ nipple caused a gratifying jerk of his hips.

How many times had Edwin guiltily wrenched his gaze from the sight of Charles’ nipples in this very singlet? They were so visible, hardening so very easily, and Edwin had done his level best not to draw any conclusions about their sensitivity. And now here he was, finally gathering the empirical evidence.

Unfortunately, Edwin only had so many hands available to him, and no wish to move either of them from their current positions. But it would be rude to leave Charles’ right nipple wholly neglected. Edwin thought through the options, then reached the compromise of putting his mouth on the nipple, straight through the singlet.

The thump of Charles’ head hitting the couch’s seat was audible. So were his desperate moans. “Ahhhh – bloody buggering fuck, Edwin, your mouth –” He was fucking up into Edwin’s hand now, relentless and uncontrolled, and Edwin felt an answering curl of desire reawaken.

“What about my mouth?” he asked curiously, drawing away from Charles’ nipple with a last scrape of teeth, delighting in the sound it wrenched from Charles. The singlet had turned wet and transparent from his mouth, doing nothing to hide the reddened nipple. Edwin blew against it, noting with interest how Charles’ fingers clenched around his hips. It was thrilling to imagine the imprint of his hands on Edwin’s body, for Edwin to fit his own hands into and to remember him by. Perhaps Charles could be convinced to leave bruises there, next time.

Because there would be a next time.

“You’re just torturing me at this point,” Charles groaned, but the way he pulled Edwin closer betrayed him. “Your mouth makes me mental, it does. All soft and pink and saying the best things. Sometimes when you’re concentrating, you bite your lip or your pen and I – I can’t think for the rest of the day, can I? And I’m pretty sure that I – oh, fuck – that now I’ve felt it on me once, I won’t be able to survive without it.”

He was more than Edwin could deserve in thousands of lifetimes, and to remain separated from his mouth for even one more second was torture beyond what Hell itself could devise. Edwin shifted up, replacing his hand on Charles’ cock with his thigh, so that he could cup Charles’ beloved face with both hands and kiss him as if his life depended on it. It certainly felt so. Charles was fucking his tongue into Edwin’s mouth and his cock against Edwin’s thigh with reckless abandon, his body beginning to tense up beneath Edwin. Edwin sucked on his tongue one last time, then drew away only enough to touch their foreheads together. He rasped, “Luckily, we have no need to test that.” Charles’ eyes were squeezed shut, his expression nearly pained, and his hands had fallen to the sides of his face, fingers twitching helplessly. Edwin circled his wrists and pressed him down. “Charles, darling, you’ve done so well. Won’t you come for me now? I want to see how beautiful you are when you let go. I want to see every single part of you.” Recalling how this had all started, he looped his finger around Charles’ necklace and tugged.

Charles was always beautiful, of course, but nothing could have prepared Edwin for the sight of him shaking apart beneath him, his fingers grasping at nothing until Edwin had mercy on him and intertwined their hands, his expression open and ecstatic, his lips parting around a drawn-out moan, his hips tilting up through the aftershocks until they abruptly stilled, his entire body going loose-limbed and relaxed. Edwin slid half-off him, not wanting to rest his full body weight on him, and grimaced at the reminder of the mess in his underwear. But it was bearable, for now, in the way that separating himself from Charles was not and could never be.

Speaking of Charles: he was slowly coming back to himself, his hands curling around Edwin’s waist to trace mindless patterns on his back, his lips curling up into a self-satisfied smile. Edwin pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, his cheek, the crow’s-feet that trailed up to his eyebrows. Charles’ eyes blinked lazily open, his gaze immediately finding and Edwin and turning openly adoring. “God, I love you,” he murmured, his smile broadening.

Edwin hummed against his skin. “If you keep invoking the name of the Lord in such situations, I might start to doubt your affections.”

“Just have to prove them to you, then, won’t I?” Charles’ smile was distinctly cheeky, now. “Maybe in a bed, next time. No complaints about this, but I’d like to do it properly.”

“Funnily enough, I feel the exact same way,” Edwin said, privately thrilling at the easy use of next time. “I do love you so, Charles.”

Charles’ expression was dazzling. “Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing that. I love you so much, Edwin, it’s not even funny.” He shifted to his side, as if meaning to kiss Edwin again – Edwin tilted towards him – and froze. “Wait a tick. You’re still hard?”

It was bold of him to sound so surprised, as if ignorant of the sounds he had made in the throes of his pleasure. Edwin only hummed, since the evidence spoke for itself.

“You should’ve said – or – bloody hell, I should’ve noticed, I should’ve been focusing on you –” Charles’ expression was beginning to take on a guilty cast, which was the last thing Edwin wanted.

“No,” he said simply, leaning in for a quick, punctuating kiss. “I wished to focus on your pleasure. I needed nothing else. This will keep.” Besides, the sensation of his spend was starting to grow uncomfortable. Edwin had no wish to contribute more to it. “Perhaps we should clean up, instead.”

“Yeah, eugh,” Charles said, wrinkling his nose as he shifted and sat up. “Maybe a shower? We could always share it.” His wink was unfairly charming.

But Edwin had a reputation to uphold. He raised a single eyebrow.

Charles did not appear cowed in the least. If anything, his handsome smile broadened. “We don’t have to do anything else, not if you don’t want to. But for what it’s worth, I’d be up for it.”

In the end, Edwin was only a weak, weak man. He took Charles’ hand and allowed himself to be towed up, swaying into Charles’ space as if drawn. “I could be convinced,” he said, as though his arms were not encircling Charles’ waist and his face was not nuzzling against the side of Charles’ even as he spoke.

“Aces!” Charles said, all boyish excitement. “The only thing is getting you off is gonna turn me on, and then we’ll have the same problem all over again. Hey, do you think we could just keep taking turns with it?”

Edwin snorted. “I sincerely doubt it. We are no longer sixteen, after all.”

“Aw, c’mon, love. I believe in us!” said Charles, taking his hand and heading for their bathroom. What could Edwin do except follow him, in this as in all things?

The next two weeks passed in a beautiful, miraculous haze, surpassing even the wildest and guiltiest of Edwin’s daydreams. He and Charles had always been close, yet now they were closer still: holding hands in the kitchen, trading toothpaste-flavoured kisses at the bathroom sink, sharing a bed. Edwin could scarcely remember what it was to go to sleep alone. Nor did he particularly care to try.

And, well. The sex was rather spectacular, it had to be said.

It was all they could to to keep their hands off each other in their office, maintaining a thin veneer of professionalism that showed its cracks when they met eyes for even a second too long. Edwin had always prided himself on his self-control, and yet it seemed one Charles Rowland and his confession of love were all that were needed to utterly destroy it. He was plagued by all kinds of lewd ideas – of spending their work day seated in Charles’ lap, for all to see; of putting his mouth on Charles’ cock, hidden beneath the desk, as Charles discussed a case with a client; of christening every surface in the office, as they were well on their way to doing in their flat. Charles’ heated gaze certainly did not help matters.

On the personal side, they were moving at a truly reckless pace. But Edwin could not regret it. All of the important things were out in the open, after all: that Edwin loved Charles and that Charles loved Edwin. So what if they had their first kiss and then sex in short order, and agreed they were dating immediately afterwards? So what if Edwin had all but moved into Charles’ bedroom, that they were floating through what Niko would term the honeymoon phase? They had both had more than enough of waiting. With every revealing memory they traded, that fact only became clearer.

You could’ve had me literally any time. D’you know what you looked like, that first day? All prim and proper and pretty, telling me to get out of your room. I thought about getting on my knees to try and convince you to let me stay. A huffed laugh. Fuck, that just sounds like the start of a bad porno, doesn’t it?

Knowing what I do now, I would have let you. I might have, in any case. I still remember how breathless the first sight of your face and your smile made me. The way your arms flexed, carrying in all your things. I was so blisteringly jealous of everyone that had you, that knew all of you, in the way I did not dare to.

No one’s had me – no one’s known me – the way that you do, love. No one else could.

(Unsurprisingly, these threads of smaller confessions could only last so long before one or both of them interrupted it. Not that either of them could complain.)

They agreed to keep the news under wraps until the next time they met their friends in person, but beyond that, they did little to hide it. People had mistaken them as a couple for nearly a decade now. Why hold back?

So it came to be that, on the morning of his ten-year high school reunion, Edwin was lazing about in Charles’ bed – in their bed, at this point – and watching his boyfriend get ready. What glimpses he could catch in their university dorms had been his well-guarded, guilty pleasure, but now he had permission to stare. Encouragement, even.

Oh, and Edwin had no desire to look away.

Charles was still in the beginning stages, dressed in only his underwear and that singlet, but he seemed intent to put on every piece of jewellery he owned. His standard necklace and two starry earrings of different lengths, of course, as well as the multitude of other piercings: helix and tragus and nostril. Next came his cosmetics, his usual understated eyeliner eschewed in favour of shimmering gold eyeshadow and dramatic winged lines at the corners of his eyes.

“Like what you see, then?” Charles asked, meeting Edwin’s gaze in the mirror. His voice was warm as a hearth, and Edwin wanted to soak up every bit of heat.

“You know very well that I do,” he replied casually, and stretched perhaps a tad more than necessary, arching his back with it, knowing that the sheet was slipping dangerously down…

The reflection of Charles’ eyes dipped down. It was all warning Edwin received before Charles was on him, covering his body with heat and his face with kisses. Edwin shouted in surprise, only for it to trail off into laughter under the onslaught of Charles’ affection.

“I’ll never leave this bed, see that I don’t,” Charles muttered.

Edwin hummed. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“You’re the bloke who wants to attend his ten-year reunion. Meanwhile, I’m just trying to look like the supportive trophy husband.” Charles set his hand to his own chest, all false humility, as he quite literally glittered in the morning sun.

Trophy husband was merely an expression, Edwin reminded himself. An unsurprising one, even, with the speed they were operating at. Yet he still thrilled at it. He drew Charles into a proper kiss and smiled against his mouth.

So perhaps they were slightly late to the reunion, sneaking into the back rows of the assembly hall and playing footsie under the stern gazes of their old teachers. Charles’ suit jacket was a tad rumpled, and Edwin was rather certain some lip liner had transferred to him during the last good-luck kiss (in a string of several) that they shared in their car. Edwin could not care less. He had the best person he knew next to him, with his arm around him, in love with him. Not even the most tedious of the speeches could wear him down.

Of course, then came the dreaded socialisation. But even that was improved when he had Charles’ company. Charles had always been adept with other people, for one, and for another, Edwin found the world far fairer with Charles’ hand a constant press at his waist. He hardly needed the expensive champagne to feel drunk, not with Charles looking a vision and full permission to drink him in. His classic black suit contrasted against his white shirt, the top buttons undone to reveal a tempting flash of clavicle, and with every motion of his head, his golden jewellery glinted, winking Edwin closer.

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Edwin was only so strong. He stepped toward him, fiddling first with the lapel of Charles’ suit, then rearranging the line of his necklace, and finally, running out of excuses, reached up to trail one dangling earring through his fingertips.

“People are watching,” Charles murmured. Both his hands were at Edwin’s waist, now.

“And?”

“Oh, nothing.” But his smile betrayed him. “Just, if you wanted to scandalise these wankers with some PDA…”

Edwin hardly needed more encouragement, stepping fully into the circle of Charles’ arms and kissing him as he’d wanted to for far too long. He could not have gone without it for more than some hours – why, two weeks ago, he had gone without it for a lifetime – and yet he had grown used to days spent at their office, where he could fortify himself with kisses in-between client appointments (and sometimes, when things became truly desperate, during appointments, escaping to the little spare room that was more of a glorified closet), or at home, where he had no need to control himself at all. It seemed he had grown far too dependent on Charles’ kisses for survival. A dangerous thing, that.

If he could faintly hear shocked murmurs and gasps from their unwilling audience, as he flaunted what they had once tormented him for, well. That was only a bonus. Not to mention how many fewer people came up to speak to them, afterwards.

One couple braved it, though. Edwin vaguely remembered the husband: not one of his main bullies, no, but certainly not opposed to them. The wife was marginally more pleasant, her eyes lighting up when she caught sight of Charles’ arm around Edwin. “Oh! Are you two…?”

Charles did not hesitate. “Yeah, we’re legally partners!”

Which was perfectly true, and yet Edwin had to stifle his laughter with a quick cough. Charles’ hand on him tightened. Could there be anything as wonderful as being in on a joke with this lovely man?

“Congratulations!” the wife said, seemingly genuine, but her husband, his expression sour, was quick to tow her away.

“Should’ve slipped her our business card,” said Charles.

“For the eventual divorce? Agreed,” Edwin replied. “How many years would you wager?”

Charles squinted after them. “Can’t be more than five, yeah? She deserves way better than that tosser.”

“Five! You are too kind. I would not be surprised if she gave him the heave-ho less than a year from now.”

The laugh that burst out of Charles was loud and far too beautiful for these haunted hallways. His eyes crinkled with the force of it. “I fucking adore you. You know that, right?”

And, miraculously, Edwin did not doubt him for a second.

“C’mon. One more round of small talk, and then we can go home, yeah?”

“If we must,” said Edwin, and took his hand.

As if she had only been waiting for them, it was at that moment that the headmistress appeared. “Mr Payne, Mr Rowland,” she said slowly, her gaze roving uncomfortably over them. “What a pleasure to have you within these hallowed halls once more.”

They murmured their greetings. Even Charles’ usual energy seemed dampened by this interaction. “We’re not staying long, Headmistress,” he said lowly.

“Such formality! I’m no longer your headmistress, you know. Please, think of me as a… friend.”

Edwin wanted few things less, and one glance at Charles showed that they agreed on that. Still, he attempted diplomacy: “As you say, Ms Després. Farewell.”

“Farewell, Mr Payne, Mr Rowland. Until we see each other once more.” For a moment, something hungry seemed to swim in the depths of her deadened eyes. Edwin was abruptly reminded that she had been in charge at the time of his incident and Charles’ near-death, and had done worse than nothing. No, she was not someone he wanted as a friend. “The two of you have been very much missed.”

As soon as they escaped earshot, Charles gave a bitter bark of laughter. “Us, missed? Yeah, that’s bloody likely, that is.” He must have notice the same thing as Edwin: how the staff members that remained from their time seemed to be doing their level best to avoid both of them. Understandable, really. It must be rather uncomfortable, to be reminded of two boys you had once staunchly refused to believe were bullied, only for them to nearly die on your school grounds. Edwin hoped they choked on their shame.

Unfortunately, the universe was not willing to afford them any further mercy, for the next person to cross their path was Simon Mould. Edwin had hoped he could escape the need to speak to any of his old tormentors, and yet here was their ringleader himself.

“Oh, Edwin, hello,” said Simon, smiling broadly. He did not attempt to greet Charles. “I wanted to… Can I steal you away for a second?”

The last time Simon had stolen him away –

Charles’ hand brushed comfortingly over his clenched fists. Edwin took a deep breath, and said, “No, thank you. Anything you discuss with me can be discussed in front of Charles.”

Simon’s once-over of Charles verged on disdainful, but he only said, “Fine, have it your way. I wanted to ask, do you remember that blue cap you used to wear?”

Edwin blinked. “I remember you snatching it off of me,” he answered, doing nothing to curb his venomous tone.

But Simon only smiled, as if they were sharing fond childhood memories instead of one amongst a litany of bullying attempts. “You looked very smart in that cap.” His smile dropped. “But when I tried to tell you, you just… walked away. You never spoke to me. I got so embarrassed, thinking that we… that we were the same.”

It both was and was not a surprise. At St. Hilarion’s, Edwin had sometimes read deeper meaning into the way Simon smiled at him, but an uptick in bullying would invariably follow. Afterwards, Edwin only thought about Simon in the context of his nightmares. But his empathy for Simon’s situation paled in comparison to his fury. Edwin hissed, “You were embarrassed? I was terrified. You chose to torment me all my years in this bloody school, Simon, and even after I left, the nightmares continued!”

Charles had been silent throughout the conversation, clearly letting them say their pieces, but now his gaze sharpened. “Oh, so this is the wanker that tried to sacrifice you to a demon?” he asked Edwin, deceptively casual but for the tense line of his shoulders. “What, bullying him into a mental breakdown wasn’t enough, now you’re trying to shoot your shot? C’mon, mate.”

“You’re making it sound way worse than it was! It was just a prank that got a little out of hand, that’s all.”

Now Edwin thought Charles might truly punch Simon, and he had half a mind to let him. But it would lead to far too much trouble in the current setting, and Edwin wanted nothing more than to leave as quickly as possible. He laid a calming hand over Charles’ chest, and murmured, “He’s not worth it.” Under his hand, Charles subsided. And now came the far more challenging prospect of removing his hand entirely. It was already taking a truly extraordinary amount of willpower on Edwin’s part to not caress Charles’ torso there and then.

Simon’s gaze caught on Edwin’s hand on Charles, and his expression went livid. “What would you even know about it, huh?” he spat at Charles. “Why shouldn’t I try my luck, seeing as he’s giving the likes of you a chance? Feel free to give me a dial when the charity thing stops doing it for you, Edwin. You can do way better, you know.”

Well. If Charles threatened to punch Simon now, Edwin would not lift a single finger to stop him. Unfortunately, when Edwin glanced at him, Charles’ expression had gone stricken. As if he thought there were any truth in Simon’s poisonous words. Edwin’s blood ran cold. He stepped in front of Charles, shielding him from Simon. In his coldest voice, he asked, “Are you, by any chance, referring to yourself with your reference to ‘better’, Simon?”

Simon actually seemed to preen. “I mean, I’m doing pretty well for myself. Just joined One Essex Court, you know. If you’d like me to put in a good word for you, I’d be more than happy to.”

“No, I don’t believe that is necessary. And I’m afraid you are quite mistaken about my ability to ‘do better’. You see, Charles is the best person I know. And you, Simon, simply do not measure up.”

“Who, him?” Simon asked, eyebrows shooting high enough to nearly catch up to his receding hairline. “Good one! You’ve finally developed a sense of humour, I see.” He gave Charles another disrespectful once-over. “Hang on, weren’t you that transfer a year below me? Didn’t you get into trouble for your own little prank with that immigrant kid?” He shook his head. “Don’t make me laugh.”

Edwin’s nails were biting into his palms. If he had any confidence in his own punching abilities, he would be having a go. Maybe Charles did have a point about self-defence training.

But for now, Edwin turned to his oldest and most trustworthy weapons: his words. “Please hear me. Insulting Charles will do the opposite of endearing me to you. Yes, he’s the best person I know, and it would do you well to examine why you doubt that. I’m certain the answer will be a potent mix of racism and classism.” Simon was rapidly turning red. “Charles is the best person I know,” Edwin repeated, because if there was one thing he knew, it was that. And another: “I love him. Nothing could ever make me stop. Do not presume to know our business, Simon.”

Now all colour bled from Simon’s face, leaving his appearance nearly ghostly. Hoarsely, he asked, “Do you think it has to be torture, being the way we are?”

“Being queer? I refuse to believe it,” Edwin said firmly. Once, he would not have thought so. Charles intertwined their hands, and Edwin squeezed back in answer. “But if you punish yourself, everywhere becomes Hell.” Using every bit of the strength that Charles’ presence next to him provided, Edwin inhaled deeply and said, “I am sorry for you, Simon, and I wish you the best – as long as that remains far away from me.” And he turned on his heel, and left.

Charles kept pace easily, their clasped hands swinging between them. “You were nicer than he deserved,” he said, finally.

Edwin shrugged, a sharp and jerky movement. “I was as nice as I felt I deserved. But some of the things he said – perhaps I should not have held you back, after all.”

“Oh, now you say that?” Charles teased, but made no move to return to the assembly hall. He did draw Edwin to a halt right outside the building, but only to crowd into his space. “Just in case you were wondering, seeing you tell that wanker off to defend me? Really did it for me.”

“Oh?” Edwin said innocently, even as his traitorous mouth tilted into a smile. “How terrible.”

Charles kissed him once, very sweetly. When he drew away, Edwin followed and stole another. Charles sighed contentedly. “Don’t need me to tell you you’re fit as, love, do you?”

“Ah, but what if I were to forget?”

“Can’t be having that,” said Charles, very seriously, and kissed him again. “You’re bloody gorgeous.”

It was the warmth of his eyes, in the end, that made Edwin remember. He stepped back, bringing Charles’ hand up to press a last kiss to the back of it, and said, “There is one more thing, before we leave.”

Earlier, a tour of the school had been offered to the alumni, but Edwin had declined it then. The only place he wished to visit would form part of no formal tour.

They made the trek to one of the outermost buildings, still holding hands, and climbed all its many stairs until they reached the top. Edwin pushed the door open and led them into the attic. It looked exactly how he remembered it, out of place against the rest of the school’s amenities. The old wooden beams of the ceiling were still exposed. The floor was covered in boxes and chests and some old blankets, all of which looked to be untouched for a good thirty years or longer. Tucked in a corner was an antique lamp, unlit. Edwin pivoted slowly, taking it all in, before turning his gaze back to where Charles had been patiently watching him. “I used to come here,” Edwin felt the need to explain. “When everything became too much. None of the others knew about it. It was… my safe haven, I suppose.” Perhaps that was why he felt the need to show it to Charles. It was only right that his old safe haven should meet his new one.

Charles, of all things, laughed. Edwin blinked at him in bemusement, waiting to be let in on the joke. “Edwin, love,” Charles said, stepping closer and fitting his hands to the sides of Edwin’s face. “Any guesses where I ran to from my own bullies?”

“Surely not,” said Edwin, already smiling back at him. “What a strange coincidence!”

“I think some part of you got left here, and you saved me,” Charles confessed, blushing a little. “Aysar found me here, but none of the other lads did.”

What an unexpected relief, to know their time at this miserable school had overlapped in such a way, in safety for both of them. Perhaps they really would have met, had they attended St. Hilarion’s simultaneously. Now, the attic carried traces of both of them, mingling until the individual components could no longer be distinguished. “Perhaps it was protecting you,” he suggested. “It would know Aysar is safe for you.”

“I like that thought.” Charles’ smile was dazzling in the dimness of the attic. The brightest thing in existence, surely. “D’you think we would’ve sneaked up here to snog, if we’d met back then?”

Edwin ducked his head to hide what must be a truly besotted smile. Of course they would have met. It was them. Charles and Edwin, in every life and beyond. A fact of the universe. “I would like to think so. But we are here now, and there is no time like the present.”

Charles’ eyebrows shot up. “Huh. I thought you’d be all,” – he affected a passable attempt at Edwin’s accent – “Charles, that would be highly unsanitary.”

“I do not sound like that,” Edwin said, rolling his eyes. “And if you do not wish to, you need only say…” He pulled away, as far as he could bear.

“Nah, nah, nah,” Charles laughed, reeling him in even as he stepped back, until his back hit the nearest wall and he at last drew Edwin in for another kiss. Edwin deepened it nearly immediately. He would not wish to deprive Charles of the snog he had requested, after all. The sounds he managed to draw from Charles were only a very lovely bonus. Two weeks on, and Edwin still could not take them for granted. He doubted he ever would.

He freed himself from Charles’ mouth to trail kisses over the side of his face, past his exquisite jawline and down to his elegant neck. The latter still sported love bites from their morning’s escapades, covered just so by Charles’ shirt, but Edwin nudged his collar aside and set his mouth to the bruises. If he had his way, they would always remain this deep, freshly-bitten colour. By the sound of his moans, Charles might very well let him.

“I’d do anything you want, you know,” Charles gasped, gratifyingly breathless. “Anything, anywhere.”

“Anything I want?” Edwin asked, raising an eyebrow. “Even here?”

“Especially here.” Charles’ face, when Edwin glanced up, was deadly serious. “They put you through Hell and then invited you right back. Absolute least you deserve is whatever you want.”

“And if I say I want you?”

“C’mon, love, I know you can be a tad more specific.”

Edwin trailed his mouth up the side of Charles’ face, and considered. “What if I say I want to fuck you?” he finally murmured, his lips just brushing Charles’ ear. “Right here, above all their heads?”

Charles swallowed audibly. “What – what was the question again?”

Edwin laughed and pivoted out of his arms, taking a seat on a nearby chest. “Go on, then,” he goaded. “Undress for me.”

“Oh, fuck,” said Charles, lashes fluttering, and did. Every article of clothing was removed sinfully slowly, Charles maintaining heated eye contact as he folded them and set them neatly aside, until he was standing, shamelessly naked and beautiful, in the spotlight of Edwin’s greedy gaze. And, oh, Edwin never wanted to stop looking. “Your turn.” Charles’ voice was low.

Edwin obeyed, near-automatic, his hands going to his jacket, then his bow tie, his shirt, his shoes and socks and trousers. He did not possess Charles’ easy charisma, to turn simple undressing into something seductive. His motions were short and perfunctory. But Charles, watching him so closely, hardly seemed to mind.

And then they were embracing with nothing left between them, losing themselves in each other’s mouths and bodies. The amount of skin against skin was intoxicating in a way that Edwin doubted he could ever build up tolerance to. No matter. He would gladly become drunk on it for the rest of their lives.

“How are we even – ?” asked Charles, and Edwin suggested, “– on the floor?” and Charles said, outraged, “We’re not fucking on the bare bloody floor!” Tragically, he separated himself from Edwin, fetching one of the blankets stacked in the corner, then spreading it out on the floor with a grandiose gesture. He also crouched at his stack of clothing, rummaging in the seemingly endless pockets of his suit jacket. Edwin entertained himself with admiring the smooth, slightly scarred skin of his back, the strong line of his thighs. “There we go!” he said, triumphantly holding up a bottle of lubricant.

Edwin raised an eyebrow. “Someone was prepared.”

“Just in case, innit?” Charles said, smiling charmingly over his shoulder even as he continued to dig in the pocket. His brows furrowed. “Hang on, why’ve I got two bottles of lube in here? And loads of condoms?”

“As you say,” Edwin said placidly. “Just in case, innit?”

Charles whooped, spilling the supplies to one side as he tackled Edwin nearly off the blanket entirely. “God, I love you so much,” he said, smothering Edwin’s face in kisses, in-between laughter.

“What did I say about taking the Lord’s name in vain?” Edwin asked, pouring some lube over his fingers and trailing them down to circle at Charles’ rim.

Charles’ head tipped back with his sigh. He was already tilting his hips closer. “To take your name in vain instead?”

Edwin snorted, but slipped one finger in as reward. Charles took it wonderfully, arching into him with a moan; it was the same with the second and third finger, some time later. He was so reactive, no matter where Edwin touched or kissed or even breathed. The motions of his body and the sounds he made were addictive. Now that Edwin had had a taste, he feared he could no longer survive withdrawal.

“Edwin,” Charles moaned, grabbing at his shoulders. “Babe. Sweetheart. Darling. Love of my life. Please, fuck me.”

“Well, since you asked nicely,” said Edwin, a hot wash of desire rippling through him. It was a moment that would be seared in his memory forever. Everything afterwards was a blur in comparison: pushing into Charles, torturously slow, and the delicious sounds he made when Edwin bottomed out. The first careful thrusts, picking up force as Charles moaned his encouragement and Edwin’s composure started to fray. Already his hair was falling out of its usual styling, sticking to his forehead with sweat. Edwin kissed Charles everywhere he could reach: jaw and throat and pectorals, his nipples one after the other. Then he got sidetracked, of course, wringing every possible sound from Charles as he alternated between touching and sucking and biting at his nipples.

If there was anything he could complain about, though, it was how little of Charles he could see, between the attic’s dimness and the fact that Edwin blocked what light there was. It was, quite suddenly, an untenable situation. He cupped Charles’ face in his hands and turned it towards him, watching Charles’ hazy eyes blink open.

“I want you to ride me,” Edwin said.

Charles blinked. “I – what?”

“I want to see you. I want you on top of me.”

“Don’t think my legs would hold me up,” Charles said. “But cheers, love.”

“I thought I could have whatever I want?” Edwin asked, raising one eyebrow.

Charles huffed a laugh. “Yeah, you can. Just don’t blame me when I collapse halfway through.”

They readjusted for the new position, Edwin on his back and Charles straddling his waist. They hadn’t attempted this position before, but Edwin was rapidly warming up to it. Or perhaps that was just the sight of Charles above him, the side of his face gilded in the light from the attic window, his teeth biting into his bottom lip in concentration as he guided himself back onto Edwin’s cock.

“Oh,” he said throatily, nearly surprised, his lashes fluttering. For his part, Edwin straining to keep his hips down, his hands clenched in the blanket, wanting nothing more than to grab Charles by the waist and fuck fully into him. And then he was fully in Charles, Charles with his thighs spread wide and the jut of his cock and the mottled love bites all over him, his face drawing together in the sort of pleasure that looked nearly religious. Edwin would be the first to worship at his altar, of course. Charles braced his hands on Edwin’s chest, raised himself experimentally, and sank back down, then did it all over again. Despite his protests, it seemed his legs were very much capable of supporting him. Edwin could hardly say the same, when he had the sight of Charles Rowland – bouncing on his cock, for there was truly no other description – forever seared into the back of his eyelids. He was a vision.

Helplessly, Edwin’s hips gave an answering thrust. Charles shouted, his chest heaving for breath and beaded with sweat. Edwin wanted to taste him.

They were both thrusting now, falling easily into a shared rhythm, a race to the peak of pleasure. One of Edwin’s hands found Charles’ waist with desperate strength; the other went to his cock. Charles was gripping Edwin’s thighs. He was saying, “You feel amazing,” and, “I love you so much,” and, “Edwin, Edwin, Edwin.”

“I love you, Charles,” Edwin managed, and was gone.

When he returned to himself, it was to find Charles plastered to his front like a weighted, if pleasantly sweaty, blanket. Edwin played with Charles’ curls and waited for him to regain the ability to form words.

Ever contrary, Charles first mouthed at his neck, then trailed slowly up to his mouth. There, he murmured, “Have I ever told you what a genius you are?”

Edwin hummed and touched along the coil of one perfect curl. “May I remind you which of us mentioned snogging in the attic in the first place?”

The corners of Charles’ mouth curled up in a smile that was very nearly shy. “We can both be geniuses, then. Because that was bloody brills.”

“I completely agree.”

“Do you think anyone heard?” Charles asked, his eyebrows waggling ridiculously. Edwin loved him so very much. “Think I got loud there, a few times.”

“Let them hear,” Edwin said, and kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him.

“– thought that would make him leave off, except then he starts talking about cryptocurrency,” Charles was saying. Groans sounded from around the table.

“What, he didn’t even blink at an Edwin Payne bitch-slap of a comment?” Crystal asked, her eyebrows shooting up. “That’s at least a little bit impressive.”

“Blokes like that only listen to the sound of their own voices,” Aysar argued. “I doubt he noticed anything except Edwin’s mouth moving.”

“More’s the pity,” Edwin remarked.

They had organised this get-together nearly as soon as Edwin had decided to attend the reunion after all. It had been too long since all six of them spent time together. Not to mention that the reunion promised to be a prime source of drama, and what sort of friends would he and Charles be if they did not share it? So here they were, seated raucously in one of their favourite restaurants, and regaling the others with the series of events.

Well. A highly edited account of it, in any case.

“Oi, quiet down, I’m still getting to the juicy parts!”

“Bloody hell, you’re telling me this isn’t the juicy part?” Sekani asked, leaning forward. Since his arm was still around him, so did Aysar, but he only smiled at his excitable boyfriend. “Tell us everything.”

Edwin and Charles exchanged a quick, amused glance. Oh, if only they knew.

They’d agreed to save the relationship bombshell until after the reunion stories, knowing the deluge of questions it would cause. (That was the logical reason for it, in any case. In truth, both of them just thought it was funny.) Until then, they were doing their utmost not to betray themselves. In fact, Edwin thought with some amusement, they were being more careful than they’d ever been before the advent of their relationship. Niko had already taken him aside to ask whether they had a fight, and the respectable ten centimetres of space between them had prompted several raised eyebrows and concerned glances.

Under the table, hidden from sight, Edwin’s left ankle hooked securely around Charles’ right.

“Well…” said Charles, drawing it out cheekily. He seemed to enjoy everyone waiting with bated breath. “That was about when our lovely headmistress cornered us.”

“Who, Ms Depress?” Aysar exclaimed. “You cannot tell me she’s still kicking.”

“Wait, is her name seriously Depress?” Crystal asked incredulously. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Nah, it’s some French name –”

“Després,” Edwin interjected.

“– yeah, that, thanks. But everyone used to call her Depress because she was so awful, innit?”

Niko nodded knowingly. “Bad vibes.”

“The worst,” Charles agreed.

“So she was the one doing fuck-all about all the bullying while you three went to school there?” Sekani asked, his face unusually serious. He was stroking his hand soothingly over Aysar’s shoulder.

“One and the same,” Aysar replied, leaning fully into him. “Her and every other teacher. I’d imagine that if they could’ve gotten away with it, they would happily have covered up everything that happened.”

“How sad for them to have the victims running about and ruining it,” Edwin muttered, and the two of them exchanged bitter smiles. He would never forgive St. Hilarion’s for his own treatment, of course, but any hope of redemption was fully dashed by what Charles and Aysar had gone through. After Edwin’s incident, the school should have known better. But it seemed that was too much to expect. Neither he nor Aysar would ever forgive St. Hilarion’s for Charles’ near-death.

“Oh, ol’ Ms Depress sure is kicking,” said Charles, returning them to the topic at hand. “Creepy as ever, too, innit?”

“She does not seem to have lost the knack of it, no,” Edwin agreed.

Charles nudged him. “C’mon, mate, tell them exactly what she said to us.”

Of their entire charade, that was the most disconcerting part, for all that Charles had been calling Edwin mate for years and love for little more than two weeks. It seemed Charles agreed, if the number of times he had caught himself mid-word were anything to go by. Edwin suppressed a smile.

“Let me see.” He held up one hand and ticked each point off on a new finger, beginning at the index finger. “She greeted us, told us it was a pleasure to have us in those ‘hallowed halls’ again, reminded us that she is no longer our headmistress – thank goodness, how else were we to know – then asked us to consider her a friend. Finally, when we attempted to leave, she told us that we had both been ‘very much missed’.” He extended his thumb last, then lowered his hand a showy flourish, knowing that his friends would never mock him for it. More than that, even – Charles’ gaze had remained caught on his hands throughout, his high cheekbones flushed. Well. Now wasn’t that interesting.

“That is mental,” Sekani said. “She just said all of that out of the blue?”

“Oh, major creep factor,” Crystal agreed, shuddering.

“Yikes,” Niko drew out. “She sounds like an terrible headmistress, wow.”

“Edwin didn’t even say it right,” Charles said belatedly, raising his eyes from Edwin’s hands, blushing even more when he accidentally met Edwin’s gaze. Edwin smirked back. “She literally said, Please, think of me as a… friend.”

Exclamations and groans sounded from all sides, mingling in the middle.

“Not the creepy pause!”

“Wake up babes, new Olympic category dropped.”

“That would be rigged from the start, innit?”

Edwin gently cleared his throat. “We have still,” he said into the expectant silence, “not reached the ‘juicy’ part.”

“Edwin, you can’t do this to me!” Sekani said. “I’m already on the edge of my seat!”

“He really is,” Aysar laughingly complained.

“Tell us, Edwin? Please?” Niko asked, leaning so far toward Edwin that her hand in Crystal’s seemed to be the only thing keeping her in her chair. Her lower lip was wobbling, and her eyes were widened pleadingly.

Damn. Edwin had always been weak for that particular expression when either Niko or Charles wore it. One day they would combine their powers, and then they would truly be unstoppable. He sighed and said, “Well, the next person we saw was none other than Simon.”

“No!”

“Simon Mould?”

“Wait, bully Simon? Ew!”

“Oh, fuck that guy.”

“Fuck Simon!” Charles said, very seriously.

“Fuck Simon!” everyone else echoed, as if partaking in some strange and arcane ritual. Edwin loved them so very dearly.

“What did he even want?”

“At least tell me he apologised to you.”

Edwin cast his mind back. It was difficult to recall, for all that the reunion had taken place mere days ago. After all, there were so many more pleasant memories to recall instead. “Do you know, I don’t think he did.”

“He definitely didn’t,” Charles said confidently. “Basically called it a prank and then used it to come on to Edwin. Apparently he’s fancied him since back then, if you can believe it.”

The reactions around the table reached a new pitch.

“What the fuck,” Crystal said flatly.

“No!” Sekani exclaimed. “What did he say, that it was just him pulling Edwin’s pigtails?”

“He never pulled my hair, at least,” Edwin interrupted, “but, yes, that is the gist of it. He was hurt that I never acknowledged him, it seems.”

“So the logical next step is to ritually sacrifice you,” Aysar said, raising an eyebrow.

“And to ask you out more than ten years later?” Niko wrinkled her nose. “We might’ve found another participant for the creep Olympics, guys.”

Edwin smiled at her. “That is a fair point, Niko. I do not know what outcome he expected. I would never have accepted even before he was so unforgivably rude to Charles.”

“Rude to Charles? This guy really doesn’t know the way to Edwin’s heart, huh?” Crystal said slyly.

“Of course not, I have no time for racists,” Edwin replied, affronted.

“It’s never enough for them to just be homophobic, is it?” Sekani rolled his eyes.

Aysar grimaced. “A posh white boy that’s an alumni of St. Hilarion’s? What do you expect?” He winked at Edwin. “Present company excluded, of course.”

“Awww, Edwin’s our token posh white boy, he’s fine,” Niko said.

“That’s forced diversity, that is,” Charles interjected, grinning, even as his ankle pressed firmly against Edwin’s.

“We’ll make an exception, because he looks very polite,” Crystal said, to general laughter. It only increased when Edwin frowned severely back at her.

“Soooooooo, what happened then?” Niko asked, resting her chin in one hand.

“Edwin told Simon off until he looked like he was about to cry,” Charles said, with relish. “And then we left.”

Which was true, of course. The implication that they left the school grounds was perhaps less so.

Crystal eyed them, taking a long sip of her drink. “That can’t be it, you both look too shifty. Spill.”

Edwin and Charles exchanged another glance, Edwin’s eyebrow quirking in question, Charles beaming his answer. Edwin placed his left hand on the table, palm up, and Charles took it without hesitation, holding their clasped hands up for all to see.

The response was thunderous. Exclamations of “I knew it!” and “I told you to go for it, dumbass!” came from all sides. Niko was squealing and clapping her hands. Aysar grinned at them, his eyes shiny with tears. “Congratulations,” he said, nearly inaudible under the chaos, but it warmed Edwin to hear. He squeezed Charles’ hand, then was shocked into laughter when Charles swooped in and kissed his cheek.

“How long has this been going on?” Sekani asked, pointing to-and-fro between them. He looked positively gleeful.

“Just over two weeks, innit –”

“Sixteen days and two hours,” Edwin said placidly. He knew the number of minutes, too, and could calculate the seconds if necessary.

Charles turned his entire head to stare at him. “You’ve been counting?”

“Of course I have –” Edwin said, and then nothing else, because Charles leaned in and kissed the words right out of his mouth.

“Fuck, I adore you,” he said when he finally drew away, flushed and bright-eyed.

“Okay, you’re head-over-heels in love, we get it,” Crystal said, her soft smile at odds with her snarky tone. “How’d you even get together? It’s only been, oh, thirty years of pining.”

Edwin frowned at her. “We met eight years ago, Crystal.”

“If anyone could pine before they even met, it would be you guys.” Rude, but not unwarranted. “Don’t try to change the subject. Spill.”

The glance that Edwin and Charles exchanged was far more embarrassed, this time. They could hardly tell the truth, could they?

But their silence was incriminating enough. Niko smiled broadly and said, sotto voce, “That means it’s an explicit story, guys.” Aysar and Sekani oohed in unison, as if they were school children and someone had been called to the headmaster’s office.

“Okay, fine, don’t spill, I don’t want to hear it,” said Crystal, rolling her eyes. More seriously, she added, “I’m really happy for you two, you know that, right?”

“Cheers, Crystal,” Charles told her, reaching out to bump her fist with his own. “You’re the best wingwoman ever.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve only been telling you to ask Edwin out for a good five years.”

Charles squawked.

“I believe that is all from our side, then,” Edwin said. “Whose life update is next?”

Niko’s hand shot up. “Before we move on, I need to ask – did you have sex at St. Hilarion’s?”

Everyone groaned.

“Niko, c’mon, we have a bit more self-control than that,” said Charles.

Crystal said, very confidently, “Not a chance. Edwin is way too posh for that. Just look at his face!”

“Why would anyone even want to hook up at St. Hilarion’s?” Aysar asked, wrinkling his nose. “That place still gives me the creeps. I’m glad you got some closure out of going back, Edwin, but there is no way I’m going to the reunion next year.”

“Agreed!” Charles said, holding out his fist for Aysar to bump. “Once was enough, thanks very much.”

A fair amount later into the night, they spilled out of the closing restaurant’s doors and into the street, significantly drunker than at the start of the evening. Edwin was thinking about how lovely his friends were, and Charles in particular, glowing so brightly under the streetlamps that it hardly resembled night any more. But he took a second to separate from Charles – quite a challenge, since a drunken Charles was an inveterate cuddler – to draw Niko out of hearing distance of the others. “Yes,” he said simply.

Niko, clever as she was, immediately knew which question he was answering. Her face lit up. “The next time the two of us hang out, you’re telling me everything.”

fin.