Chapter Text
Charlie Dalton couldn’t remember how he’d met Cameron, just that one day he wasn’t in his life and the next he was. They weren’t close by any means, acquaintances if you can even call them that. It was more of a small hello’s and eye contact in the hallway thing up until half way through their sophomore year.
Cameron began spending more time in the common room to study, oddly Charlie had never seen him with anyone so he went over himself. Neil was busy that day anyway, and he’d rather not study alone.
“Hi.” Cameron looked up from where he was doing what looked like some form of math homework.
“Hello.” He looked surprised, Charlie was kind of smug about that.
“I’m Charlie Dalton,” He’d rolled his eyes and if Charlie felt some form of pang in his heart, well that was his business.
“No shit, we have like 4 different classes together, sit down.” Charlie decided at that moment he liked this kid.
As the year progressed they only got closer, Cameron joined Neil and Charlie’s little circle which would eventually rope in Meeks and Pitts as well. Still, out of everyone in the group, Cameron was the closest with Charlie. This was honestly quite a confusing development considering they were the furthest thing from alike. In fact, you could go as far as to say they were absolute polar opposites. But it was sweet, in a way that complimented the other. Charlie brought Cam out of his shell a little, showing him his worth could not be measured with grades. And Cameron made sure he didn’t fail all his math classes. It was a fair trade, let’s be honest.
“You’re going to do great.” Charlie would assure him before every test, no matter how small. It was odd to everyone but them, sincerity wasn’t a characteristic Charlie held very well.
“And you’re not.” Cameron would assure him, before every test, no matter how large. But he’d grin that stupid fucking smile, and that was like a ‘good luck’ in itself.
Their friendship was different to the ones Charlie had already held with others. He’d thought at first that they were just good friends, that’s why he felt so comfortable. But no, it couldn’t be that, then it would feel eerily the same with Neil, but it didn’t. This was like falling but normal enough that he always knew he’d land perfectly safe. He didn’t know when the boy went from ‘Cameron’ to ‘Cam’ to ‘Richard’ to ‘Rich’ to sometimes 'Ri' but he didn’t dwell on it.
And then one day, it was past midnight and Meeks, Rich, and him were studying late for their math finals. Or trying to anyway, Meeks was snoring away in his bed, and Charlie had dozed off on his chair. He woke up to Rich still furiously scribbling away. It took a few seconds but he finally looked up after noticing Charlie was awake and smiled tentatively. His cheeks were in blotches of red from probably stress and no sleep, and his hair, which had grown impressively long over the year, was bugging his eyes. Charlie had suddenly felt his heart tug and oh. Oh shit. Fuck.
Cue 3 months of deep emotional trauma, at least a dozen panic attacks, and constant stress. All because of one goddamn look from some ginger he didn’t even know a year ago that day. Brilliant. Luckily, most of said trauma was dealt with over their summer holidays and so he didn’t have to deal with seeing Rich everyday. Charlie still wasn’t comfortable with himself at the beginning of sophomore year, but he wasn’t having a panic attack at the mere thought of it so that was progress. It was more ‘let’s leave this for older Charlie to deal with’ until a few months into 11th grade.
Older Charlie was not happy about that decision. So he was queer, okay, big deal. He didn’t not like girls though, so he couldn’t possibly be that bent. Vanessa from across the street made that quite obvious (Well, her boobs did), but still, there was something different about that stupid fucking boy he couldn’t get out of his brain. He spent every waking moment at school with Rich or wishing that he was with Rich. It was, all in all, becoming a problem.
Sue him, that kid looked exceptionally adorable no matter what he was doing. Richard could literally be buttering his bread and Charlie would find his heart doing flips. It was excessive and very much not-Charlie of him.
So, he cried, and blurted all of it to Neil. Sweet, wonderful Neil, who only held him and said it was fine, and he was okay, and “you looked so serious I thought it was something actually bad, sure you didn’t murder someone?” And Charlie laughed, and mumbled that it was none of his business but it was offensive that Neil didn’t think he’d ask him to help hide the body. At the time, Charlie was a little frustrated that Neil treated it like it was no big thing, like it couldn’t literally get him killed. Looking back, he was glad. It was probably that that made him feel like it was, in all actuality, not that big of a deal. It was who he was, so fucking what?
Of course, he didn’t go parading it, but he didn’t feel that dirty anymore. And it warmed the eternity of his heart when Neil would whisper that a boy was cute to him along with the few girls he pointed out. (Of course, at the time he thought that Neil was only doing that for him, as time progressed it was quite obvious Neil too was probably a teeny bit gay. He didn’t say anything, obviously, that was something for Neil to figure out on his own and talk about when he was ready. “Charlie, It’s okay, I’m always gonna be here for you.” Neil had said, and Charlie would do the same for him. Always.)
Anyway, back to Rich, who apparently was as oblivious as a stick. They spoke, which Charlie (And Neil) very much defined as flirting, (“I mean, he grabbed your hand 3 times! We were watching Cinderella , fucking friends my foot!” An excerpt from one of the many Neil outbursts.) all the time. They weren’t roommates but they might as well be, Neil switched beds with him constantly, Charlie did not deserve that boy. They spoke until way into the night about the dumbest things, and Charlie hadn’t felt that content in a very very long time.
“Stars are stupid.” Rich announced one day, staring very pointedly at the ceiling. Charlie couldn’t help but feel his entire body warm when he looked over.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, think about it.” He got up, sitting straight in his bed like he was having an epiphany of sorts. “They just sit there, huge balls of gas, and do absolutely nothing. But all of us adore them like they’re the prettiest things to exist. Pointless, stupid stars. Mostly, I mean, obviously you need the sun and the moon, but most of the others.”
“You feel very strongly about this.” Charlie was grinning, fondness seeping out of him and drenching the entire room.
“Of course I do, they do nothing, they’re just- gas. Why do they get to be seen as so wonderful? It’s unfair, is what it is.” He huffed out a breath.
“If it helps, I think you’re wonderful.” Charlie spoke before he could stop himself, kicking himself mentally right after the words slipped. Rich turned towards him slowly, meeting his eyes. He looked almost expectant, and so, Charlie continued. “Much more than flimsy old stars.”
A comfortable science took over the room, and Charlie tried very very hard to not fiddle with his thumbs. After a few beats, he heard Rich whisper back, it was so soft that maybe he hadn’t said it at all.
“I think you’re wonderful too.”
Now if Charlie’s heart erupted in flames, if he felt his cheeks get hot, or the intense need to scream from joy, that was his business.
-
“I think you’re in love.” Neil spoke one day, right before Christmas break.
“I’m 16.” Charlie responded right back, like he knew that was what Neil was going to say when they decided to spend their last day sitting on a bench near the lake.
“That doesn’t mean you can’t be, though.” Neil was speaking quite softly, like he was trying very hard not to scare Charlie away. It wasn’t working, Charlie wanted to get up and dive straight into the frozen lake. When he didn’t respond, Neil kept going. “I don’t want to tell you what you’re feeling, so I’m sorry but- you’re so different around him, or even when you talk about him-”
“It’s a crush Neil, it’ll go away.” Charlie was gritting his teeth, trying to convince himself more than the other boy. Neil stopped then, and they both sat in quite an awkward silence for a few minutes.
“If it doesn’t?” Charlie kind of wanted to punch him, he didn’t- couldn’t deal with all of that right now. Or ever for that matter. What was the issue with pretending? Pretending everything was fine, and always would be fine.
“It has to.”
“I don’t think it has to do anything.” Neil wasn’t stupid or overly optimistic or anything like that. He knew the repercussions and weight all of this held. That even if Rich did return the stupid fucking feelings, things wouldn’t be all fine and dandy. If anything, it would be worse. So Charlie couldn’t for the life of him figure out what the hell he was getting at with this.
“I can pretend that it does.”
“Pretending is stupid.” This was quite a bold statement that Charlie would repeatedly bring up a year from now when Neil would very pointedly refuse that he saw Jeffery Andersons younger brother as anything but a friend. Well not exactly a year, a year from now Neil Perry would be dead and rotting in a coffin buried underground.
“You’re stupid.”
“Touché. That’s not my point though.” Charlie sighed, irritated.
“What is your point?”
“You gotta give it a shot, find out if he likes you. Don’t, you know, be obvious that would be immensely stupid, but just find out how he feels about all this, I guess.”
“And then what?” Maybe he was wrong, maybe Neil was utterly stupid.
“Well if he doesn’t, you’ve got a definite answer and it’ll be easier to get over it if there’s no hope. If he does, at least you can battle this together.” Okay maybe Neil was wise, Charlie was very confused at this point in time.
And so, Charlie said fuck everything and walked straight up to Richard later that same day. His nerves were going through the roof, and his heart was beating out of his chest. He thought he might throw up when Rich opened the door to a very empty dorm. He claimed his roommate, Ben was it? Had gone home a day early for some family vacation. Great, perfect.
They talked about Christmas a little, family even less, but there was an awkwardness looming above them from Charlie very evidently being on the verge of a panic attack. He didn’t even know how he was supposed to go about this, what was he supposed to say? Hey Ri, yes I too hate vanilla cake, how do you feel about being gay? With me, specifically.
He took a deep breath, interrupting Richard while he was in the middle of explaining why the dollops of frosting on cake was quite irritating usually. “My uncle isn’t married.” He blurted it out, almost shouting.
Richard raised an eyebrow at him, stopping and dropping his hands to his lap. He used a lot of hand gestures, Charlie was very in love with him, that’s not the point though. “That’s- uh-” He stumbled on what to say, and Charlie could not blame him. “Nice?”
“He’s 62,” Charlie continued, slowly, mildly unsure where he was going with this. Rich only nodded, urging him to continue. He still looked very confused. “Uh, he, um, he has a roommate though.”
“I am so confused.” Charlie would be concerned if he wasn’t.
“He’s had a roommate, the same guy, for years. They’re very close.” Realization began to dawn on Richard’s face, and Charlie thought he might throw up. “My dad was quite angry when I asked about him while looking through family pictures.”
This story wasn’t untrue, really, it just wasn’t his. Neil had told him about his uncle, tried to reason that there was a somewhat way that things didn’t absolutely have to end terribly if he ended up liking a guy in the forever type way. Neil seemed to leave out the fact that the uncle was disowned until much later.
“Oh.” Oh, indeed. “Is he- is he okay?” Charlie was slightly taken aback.
“Yeah, I think.” He didn’t know at all, but oh well.
“Good, that’s good.” And there was that stupid awkward silence again. Charlie didn’t know how to progress the conversation from here and Richard seemed too lost to say anything. He didn’t know what to make of this reaction. He did say good, was concerned for his well being, but Richard seemed awfully uncomfortable.
“Anyway, frosting, you were saying?” Charlie cleared his throat to stop all the emotions bubbling up.
“Oh, right, yeah…” He launched back into his rant, though it was more somber than before. He did that a lot, the ranting, and it could be categorized as one of the sweetest fucking things. For Charlie anyway, Pitts had threatened him quite intensely once that if he spoke another word about that stupid book, he couldn’t be responsible for what he did with the butter knife in his hand.
Charlie put the reaction on the back burner and enjoyed the sound of his voice, interjecting a few times or moving his head to make sure Rich knew he was listening. It was enough, he convinced himself, this was enough. Because even though neither of them spoke of it to each other, there was something here. Something so real, like an unspoken truth. Confessions sweeped under the rug, and he could be happy with that.
-
Apparently he could not.
“Maybe I was wrong.” Richard whispered. Charlie and him were laying on the roof, on top of their jackets respectively. Neil and Meeks were here earlier too but Neil had convinced him to leave to help him with something in latin, so it was just them. Charlie’s heart was poking at him, trying ever so hard to burst out of his chest and go reside somewhere beside Rich’s. Richard Cameron with his wide eyes, pink cheeks, and constellation of freckles that put the sky to shame. Deep breaths Char, deep breaths.
“You’re admitting you’re wrong? Oh my god, who are you and what have you done with Richard?” He earned a light slap to the chest, which was quite deserved honestly. “Sorry, what were you wrong about, your majesty?”
“I really hate you, Dalton.”
“I doubt that.”
“Stars, I mean, they are quite pretty. Maybe they deserve it.” Charlie didn’t know what supernatural force took over his body, because his hand slowly moved to cover Richards. He didn’t move it away, instead he moved a single finger to wrap around Charlies. Charlie thought he was going to die. Stupid hormones.
“I wasn’t wrong.” Shut up Charlie, shut up, shut up. He ignored the voice in his head. Richard turned to look at him, expectant.
“Why am I not surprised?” His stupid lips had no right to be so red or look so inviting. “You admitting you were wrong would take a national hol--”
“Do you ever shut up?” He shut up immediately. “ I meant, I wasn’t wrong because-” If he said this, there was no way Richard wouldn’t immediately understand. “You’re still prettier.” He shrugged nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just laid his heart on a silver platter and dropped it into the boy's hands with a knife right beside it. Just in case.
“Oh.” Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it-
Well, if there was one thing Charlie Dalton was good at it, it was being utterly reckless.
He was surging forward without thinking, or maybe thinking too much. Their lips only touched for a second before Charlie pulled back, waiting for some form of disgust. Richard just stared at him, eyes wide. Fuck this, he pushed forward again and this time, didn’t pull away. And good fucking lord, thank you to whatever being lives up there, Rich was kissing back. Charlie thought his heart might explode at any second. It was like all this hope and happiness was bubbling through him and spilling out, he was so full.
They pulled away a little bit later, breathing rapidly and just staring at each other. A few more moments passed and then Richard abruptly sat up, Charlie awkwardly getting up beside him. “You just- You- We-” He looked frightened but Charlie read it as exhilarated.
“I know, I can’t believe it, I’m so happy you don’t even kn-” Charlie was grinning so wide it physically hurt.
“ Happy?” He sounded incredulous, “You’re happy? Are you insane? What were you thinking? How could you-” He was gasping, and Charlie suddenly grew quite confused. His heartbeat was increasing but not in the wonderful way it just was, more scared and anxious.
“What?” He realized he sounded very, very afraid.
“You can’t just- Charlie, what the fuck? Why did you have to-” He squeezed at his skull with his hands, groaning aloud and Charlie’s brain momentarily gave out in a mix of embarrassment, hurt and confusion.
“But you,” He took a breath, swallowing the lump in his throat, “You, you kissed ba-”
“Of fucking course I did, you’re- you’re you, but we can’t- I can’t- Oh my god.” Charlie had never heard him stumble over his words so much.
“But if we- if it’s mutual why can’t we-”
“Are you completely stupid? There are so many fucking things that could go wrong, don’t you-” He took a deep breath, and Charlie felt his eyes burn. “We just can’t. I have so much- if anyone found out-”
Charlie tried to grab his arm, “No one will-” He yanked it away so forcefully it made Charlie’s heart shatter, sinking deeper and deeper.
“You don’t know that, this would ruin so much. This would ruin everything, I don’t-” Charlie felt a surge of unexpected anger burn up his flesh, because that’s always been his coping mechanism. If something hurts him, he pretends he was angry instead of sad. That was much more manly, wasn’t it? Men don’t get sad.
“And what? I’m not worth it?” He stood up completely, and Rich followed, looking at him like he was insane.
“ What? Of course you’re no-” He stopped, apparently recognizing how bad that sounded and Charlie’s heart may have left his chest entirely. He might’ve been crying, but he couldn’t feel it, he couldn’t feel anything. He felt like a spinning top, the world blurring. Ri tried to reach for him but he stepped back, feeling like he’d been punched. “I didn’t- I’m only sixteen, we don’t-"
“No. You don’t. You don’t get to speak for me, I do think you’re worth it, goddamnit Ri. I do.” Richard looked pained, and he should.
“Fine.” He straightened a bit, and Charlie didn’t notice till then that he was crying too. “ I don’t think this is worth it.” He was lying through his teeth, and they both knew it but it hurt all the same.
“You’re a coward.” Charlie left the roof, aggressively wiping away the tears that just refused to stop and headed straight for his bed, careful not to wake up Neil. Neil would ask questions, and he was sure that if he spoke a single word he would break completely.
Instead he wept until he fell asleep.
‘Ri’ became ‘Cameron’ again, and when Neil asked he deflected everything. He strayed further and further away from the ginger, he couldn’t stop himself from being the biggest asshole to him. Every word he spoke, every time they were in the same room, it felt like Charlie was on fire. He was rude, he was a dick every chance he got, but Cameron never left the friend group, or him for that matter. Instead, sometimes he fought back and other times he just looked very, very sad.
Charlie pretended he didn’t care, because that’s what he fucking did. Pretend. He deserved to be very sad, it was his own fault. He hated him, hated him so goddamn much. But he didn’t, not even a little. That stupid kiss replayed in his head like a movie scene, over and over until he couldn’t bare it and wanted to scream. He wished he’d never gone up to that stupid table that day, never introduced himself, that he’d never met Cameron.
To distance himself a little bit from the group, he met Knox Overstreet, which didn’t work very well considering Neil drew everyone into that group like the friendly outgoing fuck he was. Still, it was nice to have a friend that didn’t question what happened between him and Cameron, simply because he didn’t know. Knox just thought they never got along. They shouldn’t have anyway, they were too different.
That year ended in a blur of pain and anger, and Charlie thought it couldn’t possibly get worse. And oh, how very wrong he was.
-
Of course he had to room with Cameron, the universe had it out against Charlie. Not once in the past 2 years, when he’d wanted it so badly, had they been together but now of course. When he absolutely wanted anything else than to be near him at all.
He completely ignored Cameron the first day, refusing to even look his way. But as the days progressed, he was forced to be slightly more civil towards him, going as far as to call him ‘Ri’ once. Cameron had been helping him with trig when he’d let it slip while teasing him about how neat his notes always were, he tended to write and rewrite them until they looked perfect. Cameron had looked at him shocked, his eyes growing just slightly wider and Charlie hated himself for the effect it still had on him. He only shrugged, and continued asking about the problem. Cameron seemed lighter after that, and their banter got ever so slightly less aggressive.
Neil only raised an eyebrow at him the few times it happened in front of them, but never pushed it. Charlie was incredibly thankful, he didn’t even know what he would say. They weren’t friends by any means, but they weren’t at each other's throats. Their silences grew comfortable rather than filled with resentment. Charlie didn’t hate it, but he didn’t like it either. He was still very very angry, sad, a million other things, and it spilled out every now and then, but he hated how they pretended nothing had happened.
Because it had, and he was still quite the mess from it.
On the other hand, Neil and the new kid seemed to be hitting it off incredibly well, and Charlie was quite happy for them. Though Neil constantly denied that it was anything but platonic. Overall, everything was getting to be mildly okay. He knew, deep down, he still held feelings for his roommate (hah, that’s funny, considering the old uncle), but it was subtle enough that he could force himself to think he didn’t.
He’d never not had feelings for Cameron, since the moment they met, even if they took time to grow. So it would feel odd if he felt nothing, this was fine. It was. It was going to be okay.
-
Neil Perry was dead.
Neil, his best friend, the only person that had always been there for him. Neil, who made him feel comfortable with himself when he thought he might hate himself forever. Neil, who did everything in his power to make sure Charlie knew that he was cared for, was dead and cold in a grave somewhere. He’d never be able to go to him again, never see him smile, never hear his voice.
Charlie, It’s okay, I’m always gonna be here for you.
He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead. He wouldn’t- he wouldn’t. The crushing weight of it hit him again and again until he couldn’t breathe. His lungs gave out as soon as Meeks had entered the room and shook him awake to tell him. Neil deserved to live the most out of all of them, really live, Charlie didn’t know where he would be if he hadn’t met him all those years ago.
7 years of age and they were already attached at the hip, they had dreams to roam the entire world one day. Stupid and 12. He could’ve never, ever, asked for a better friend. Someone that cared more about everyone than himself. Charlie always knew he would be lost without him, and he was, he was, he was. He couldn’t begin to imagine how this would be hitting Todd, but he understood, he did. And he was supposed to be there for him like Neil would’ve done for someone that loved him if he died.
But he couldn’t even do that now, and of course, of course, it was because of Cameron. He threw up when he left the office, told to go pack his bags due to expulsion. He wouldn’t sign the paper and he’d punched another student. Neil would’ve told him he was being stupid, that keeping his thoughts in mind was not a good enough reason to leave behind a school he’d worked so hard to stay in. He didn’t care, it was the least he could do for Neil.
Cameron was watching him pack, Charlie could feel his eyes burning holes in the back of his head. He couldn’t begin to explain the hatred that was bubbling out of him, but it wasn’t really hate, it was betrayal. And the worst part is he knew why Cameron did it, of course he did, he knew Cameron better than he knew himself. If he’d refused to sign he would’ve gotten expelled, and Neil was the only person that made him feel included with the others like a piece of tape that had been harshly ripped off, so Cameron held onto the only thing he knew he was good at. School. He was grieving too, but Charlie didn’t care goddamnit, he didn’t. He did, he did, he did.
All he wanted to do was go over there and lay his head on Camerons lap and cry and cry and cry. Breathe him in like some sweet relief, escape into him somehow. Because he knew, nothing else would even begin to take a little of the grief away. He wanted to scream, I lost Neil, I can’t lose you too, I can’t, please, oh God, I can’t. He couldn’t bear it.
He placed the last shirt into his suitcase, looking around desperately for something he could’ve missed, anything to keep him here just a bit longer. There was nothing. He closed the suitcase and blinked the tears away, trying to ignore the burn in his eyes. He turned, finally meeting Cameron’s eyes, and he was glaring. Trying to convey all the betrayal and hatred he felt in a single stare.
And he still loved him, he still fucking loved him. It tore at him suddenly, ripping apart his chest with claw like nails. It took everything in him not to drop to the floor and bawl like a new born baby, to weep and beg that none of this was real. That this was all a dream he’d wake up from and everything would be okay.
“I begged Nolan not to, I tried Charlie I did-”
“I hate you.” He spit the words out, ignoring the way they jabbed at his heart. It didn’t hurt him because he said it, it hurt because he knew that it would hurt Cameron and he couldn’t stand that. He hated himself for it. Cameron looked down, a tear dripping to the floor in a soft splat.
“Please don’t.” Charlie could’ve screamed I don’t, I can’t, I love you, I hate you so much but I love you so much more.
“I do.” He picked up his suitcase, and headed towards the door.
“Charlie, please, please, ” He didn’t say anything past that, just kept pleading softly and Charlie squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t even say it but Charlie knew exactly what he was saying. Please, it can’t end like this, it can’t. “I love you.”
The words hung in the air, and it was like everything stopped, Charlie froze, he could almost hear his heart breaking. As if there was anything left of it. He turned around slowly, tears spilling out his eyes like an overflowed cup, he stared directly at the mess of a man he was so desperately and stupidly in love with.
“Fuck you. Fuck you Cameron, you- Fuck you. ” Cameron knew, he knew how stupid that was. How low, how disgusting that was. The worst possible thing he could say, and he still said it. Like it was nothing, like it didn’t shatter the millimeter of being Charlie still held within himself. He continued glaring, unable to move, and Cameron stood up from where he’d fallen on the floor while wiping at his tears furiously.
“I shouldn’t have said that.” Oh, good, he was self aware.
“No, no you really should not have said that.” His hands were clenched into fists, nails biting at his palms.
“I meant it.” He was somehow making it worse. That’s something he was good at though, making every situation so much worse.
“I’m not going to say it back.” I love you, I love you, I love you, he ached so badly to say it.
“I know, I know.” He nodded furiously, “But I do, I’m sorry.”
And that was the fucking limit. Before he could help it, he’d dropped his suitcase and was pushing Cameron against the back wall with so much force it looked like he would hit him again but instead he was kissing him with all the pent up anger and sadness, clutching at fistfulls of his sweater. It was less lips and more teeth, the amount of tears on both of their faces making it much saltier than the first time. Much more aggressive too.
And then he left. Ignoring his parents’ screaming, ignoring everything until he was alone at night before he cried like he hadn’t in years. Till he was shaking and stuffing his blanket in his mouth so he didn’t scream and wake anyone. He’d lost everyone, so so quickly.
For the first time in his life, Charlie Dalton couldn’t pretend at all.