Work Text:
charlotte: oh you’re online
Finally.
C: Yes. Hello Charlotte.
charlotte: the new chapter was wonderful <3<3<3
are you working on the next one now?
C: I’m actually taking a small hiatus. But thank you for thinking so.
charlotte: oh…
Charles bites at his nails.
charlotte: is everything ok?
C: Ah, yes. Don’t worry. I just need a little bit of a break.
Charles is taking too long to respond. He’s looking at the message for far too long, tapping his fingers on the desk anxiously. He can hear that nagging voice in the back of his mind, but he decides to ignore it for now. Not loud enough to be a nuisance yet.
charlotte: understandable!!
you work so hard
i’m glad you’re looking after yourself
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptap.
i wanted to ask you a question
C: Ask away my friend.
His friend. Charles could just die.
charlotte: does this mean you’ll be free?
Maybe he should die.
C: Free? As in not busy? I suppose so.
He types faster than he ever has in his life. He doesn’t want to run the risk of deleting it all before he has the chance to press send.
charlotte: would you want to meet up sometime?
i think i remember you saying you live close to me
He has a screenshot of the message on his desktop.
so i thought we could get some ice cream
if you wanted
no pressure
but i’d like to hear your voice
Too strong. Way too strong. He’s going to be blocked for sure.
C: Hmm…
Why not? That seems like a fun time.
Just send me the location.
How does Saturday afternoon sound?
He can feel his heart throb in his skull.
charlotte: sounds great!
✑
His chosen spot, a small ice cream parlor, is close to his house. But not to C’s. Rather than have C wait alone, he’s elected to walk him there. A little extra exercise never hurt anyone! Except for that guy who died on a jog, but he’s a statistical outlier.
He spends his jaunt to C’s house in what he wishes was peace. That nagging voice is still there. It’s not too loud to ignore, but that’s a little harder when notification pings and keyboard clicks aren’t comfortably filling out the silence. No matter. She’ll be quiet soon enough.
When he meets up with C, it’s not actually at his house. He assumes it’s close to it, but he understands why he might not want to give a near stranger his home address. Not like he would do anything unsavory with the information, but a little bit of healthy suspicion towards people isn’t a bad thing.
C is a lot different than he expected. To Charles, he still looks like a beautiful and elegant young man whose brilliant mind you can see shades of in his gorgeous grey eyes.
But to anyone else C looks like a nerdy kid with a severe vitamin D deficiency.
He’s so pale that even in his near delusional admiration of him, Charles is a little concerned. He’s out in the sun now though, so it can’t be that bad.
C looks over at him, but his eyes quickly find something else to focus their attention on. Charles is a little worried he’s ignoring him, but then he recalls an important detail he hadn’t given him. This could end up very badly.
“Um…” Charles walks up closer to him. “Hi, C.”
C blinks, surprised.
“Hello?”
Charles scratches the back of his neck. “It’s um- It’s Charlotte.”
C’s face softens, any minute amount of concern quickly fading from his expression. He holds up a pristine hand, smiling.
“Hello Charlotte.”
Charles very hesitantly reaches out to return the handshake. Not unlike he’s about to wrap his fingers in spiderweb. He immediately relaxes upon feeling C’s skin touch his own. It’s so soft he feels like he’s dreaming. C’s eyes linger on the bandages that adorn his fingers, but if he’s curious about them he doesn’t say anything.
“Hi, C.”
Without a word, C pulls his hand back and starts walking. Charles rushes up to follow him.
“Ah, are you surprised?” Charles asks.
“About?”
“The fact that I don’t look like Charlotte.”
C shrugs.
“I can’t say I wasn’t a tad confused. But I don’t generally expect people to look like their profile pictures. Anri isn’t a flower, I assume.”
“I guess… that makes sense. Sorry if you were expecting a pretty girl.” He laughs, self-deprecating.
“I think you’re pretty.” C assures him. “But are you?”
“Uh. Pretty?”
“A girl.”
“Oh.”
The answer to that question is a little more complicated than Charles thought. For now, instead of opening that particular can of worms, he just shrugs.
“Sorta. Not really. You can call me whatever you want.” He slides his hands into his pockets. “Technically my real name is Charles.”
“I like Charles.” C muses. “It fits you.”
“My mom thought so too.”
Charles clears his throat in an attempt to distract from his shitty joke.
“I’m Vincent. By the way.”
Vincent. Vincent. He silently mouths the name a few times, testing how it feels on his tongue. It suits him so well… It’s perfect.
“That’s a nice name.” He mumbles fondly.
C- or, Vincent, laughs. It hits Charles’ ears and he thinks this is what an angel must sound like.
Vincent isn’t entirely different to C, the similarities are clear as day, but the boy standing in front of him does not seem so invincible. He always thought C could never die. He was too strong, too smart, too perfect to ever be hurt. But here stands a small and fragile boy, shorter than him and almost definitely a little younger, with a soft voice that you can almost hear wavering as he speaks. Bandages littering his face for god knows what reason. He doesn’t regard him as anything less than perfect despite that. In fact, it only makes him fall further.
“Oh.” Vincent stops, and Charles’ train of thought stops behind him.
“Look. Rain…” He holds his hand out in front of him. Surely enough, a few drops land on his palm.
Charles could kick himself. The one thing he forgot to check? Really? He holds back a groan.
“Shit, um…” Charles looks around. Without giving it much thought, he grabs Vincent’s hand and starts to pick up his pace along with the rain.
Charles will have plenty of time to think about the feeling of Vincent’s hand in his later, but for now, he pulls him into the closest cover he can find. He settles on an alleyway, under the overreaching roof of a nearby building. Their rushed footsteps scare a nearby cat. It hisses at them, but quickly finds another place to hide.
Charles sighs, watching the handfuls of raindrops quickly transition into a drizzle, and then a shower. They’re going to be here for a while.
“Ah. Sorry for grabbing you.” Charles absentmindedly picks at a dry patch of skin around his knuckles.
“That’s alright.” Vincent shakes his head with a wave of his hand. “I prefer it to getting wet.”
Charles gives him a nod before looking back at his hand. His are so rough… Obviously it’s all the soap he uses, but he’s still jealous of Vincent. Just a little.
Vincent shivers. “Goodness.” He rubs at his arms.
“Ah, are you cold?” Charles asks, but he’s already taking off his jacket.
“Oh, yes. But you don’t have to worry-”
Charles wraps his jacket around Vincent carefully, letting it rest on his shoulders.Vincent grabs it and pulls it over his chest.
Vincent looks up at him and for the first time, their eyes meet. Charles feels a little dizzy. The closed off walls of the alley make it so they’re already closer than they were before. And then, without a thought, Charles just all but closed what little distance they had left. He should’ve been a little more upset with himself for essentially taking a pair of scissors and cutting up his teeny tiny little safety net, but he’s too busy staring into Vincent’s gorgeous eyes. He feels his heart pound hard in his chest. He swallows in an attempt to get it from clawing its way up his throat.
He thinks he might’ve passed out and fallen into a dream, because before he knows it his lips are gently pressed to Vincent’s. Despite his suspicions, he still pulls back.
“Ah, um. I’m sorry- I don’t really know what got into me.”
Charles is quick to sputter a panicked apology. He pushes out a few hundred more when he sees the wide eyed stare Vincent is giving him. But something stops him. Two somethings, actually. Vincent's lips.
Vincent kisses him softly, hand gently pressed his cheek. Despite himself, Charles returns the kiss quickly. He closes his eyes and wraps his arms around his waist.
Vincent replaces everything associated with the word 'kiss' in his mind. Anri’s chapped lips and lack of passion are pushed out of his memory in favor of a fondness Charles, in all his verbosity, doesn’t quite have the words to describe. If he didn’t have lungs or responsibilities, he would stand in this dingy little alleyway and kiss this boy for the rest of his life. But god hasn’t been quite that kind to him, so he unfortunately pulls back. He’s fully aware of the cheesy grin spreading across his face, but he’s in no hurry to stop it.
“That’s a really nice way to tell someone to shut up.” He jokes.
To his surprise, Vincent actually laughs. Not the kind of laugh you give someone out of politeness after a bad punchline. But an honest to god, wholeheartedly genuine laugh.
“You’re a funny girl, Charles!”
His amusement is infectious, and soon the sounds of their unrestrained joy are bouncing off of the brick that envelopes them.
Charles never did end up getting his ice cream. But what he did get was twice as sweet.