Chapter Text
When Niko Sasaki showed up on the doorstep of the Dead Boy Detective office, breathless and pale as a sheet from the exhaustion that comes from being stabbed by a witch’s magic knife and finding themselves in another dimension with the two little gods who had tried to kill her not even a week before, and Charles watched as Crystal, Jenny, and Edwin tackled Niko and they all collapsed on the floor in a sobbing heap, he knew that they needed a well-deserved break. Preferably one far from London and the burnout that comes with helping countless ghosts with their paranormal cases.
“C’mon, mate,” Charles groaned, leaning his head against Edwin’s shoulder as his best mate took notes on the newly finished Case of the Ghostly Howling Racoon. “You are stressed out all of the time. None of us have even had time to process everything that happened in Port Townsend, and here we are throwing ourselves into work twice as grueling as before. You - we - need a break!”
“I agree,” Crystal said. She, Jenny, and Niko were all sitting on the couch, with Niko’s legs up in Crystal’s lap. “Everything is moving too fucking fast. I would love a vacation.”
“No,” Edwin slapped his book closed and glared at Charles and Crystal pointedly. “These ghosts need us-”
“They aren’t going anywhere-” Charles started.
“-and where would we even go?” Edwin lifted an eyebrow in his typical bitchy fashion, smug.
“I have always wanted to go to Paris,” Niko whispered, eyes misty. “The city of love. Please, Edwin?”
And so, thanks to Niko’s puppy eyes, the Dead Boy Detective Agency found themselves on a plane to Paris, France.
* * *
The hotel was nice, but a bit small. They reserved one room for the girls, and one room for the boys. Of course, Charles and Edwin didn’t need to sleep, seeing as how they were dead, but they knew that the girls valued their privacy. For all his bravado, Charles got flustered the one time he forgot to knock and walked in on Crystal changing into pajama bottoms. She had beaten him over the head with one of her combat boots while his eyes were squeezed shut and he shouted apologies. Edwin had burst into the room in a panic, only to immediately turn around and leave with a knowing snort.
Charles always remembered to knock after that.
“Do you wanna take a look around?” Charles asked Edwin. “It’s getting dark, and I hear the city is brills at night.”
“Oh,” Edwin replied, slowly turning to face him. “I promised Niko I would watch that delightful detective show with the dog tonight.”
Charles frowned. “You watch that show together almost every night!”
“I apologize…” Edwin grimaced. “It’s just, I thought she was gone forever. Being with Niko… it makes me feel…”
“Safe?” Charles guessed, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. After over thirty years of being Edwin’s designated safe person, it was hard to share the spot.
“Indeed,” Edwin smiled at him. “You get it.”
“Okay, well, I hope you two enjoy your show,” Charles clapped his hands together awkwardly. “Jenny and Crystal are already asleep so I guess I’ll just. Walk around. By myself.”
“Thank you, Charles.” Edwin gave him a nod, turned quickly on his heel, and phased through the wall. Charles let out a puffy-cheeked sigh and headed out alone.
As Charles walked along the streets, he found it hard to focus on the sights of the city. Right after the events of Port Townsend, in which Edwin had confessed feelings for Charles on the stairway from Hell, things had been a little awkward, but not embarrassingly so. But then Charles started noticing things about his best mate. With every sassy remark or quirk of Edwin’s lips, Charles would hear Charles, I’m in love with you. As more than a friend, I’m afraid, ringing in his ears, and then he would think about flirty banter or kissing those lips and-
And he would get so flustered and embarrassed. Like a schoolboy with his first crush. And he would distance himself and make things awkward. Because…
No. He couldn’t dwell on those thoughts now.
He found himself staring up at the Eiffel tower. It really was nice at night, all lit up and beautiful.
Charles heard a small sniffle.
He turned and saw a blonde boy, about seventeen, sitting on the park bench. His shoulders were curled up in on himself, and his eyes were hollow and red-rimmed.
Charles sat down next to him. He knew the boy wouldn’t be able to see him, but he liked to think that he could at least pretend to comfort this stranger, even if-
The boy turned towards him and looked him right in the eyes.
“Hello.”
“You can see me?” Charles blinked. “You must’ve had a near death experience of some kind.”
The boy chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck self consciously. “A few, yeah.”
Charles raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push it. He held out his hand and gave his best smile.
“Name’s Charles. What’s yours?”
The boy blinked at him, owlishly, before slowly taking Charles’ hand and shaking it hesitantly.
“You… don’t recognize me?”
Charles frowned. “Should I? I’m sorry-”
“No! No, it's fine!” the boy said quickly. “It’s nice, actually. To talk to someone genuine. My name is Adrien.”
“Nice to meet you, mate.” Charles smiled again before turning back to the tower. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, before Charles’ curiosity got the better of him. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing out here? I couldn’t help but notice you seem a bit… sad.”
Adrien smiled bitterly. “It’s my father. He found out… something about me. That he didn’t like. When he was searching through my room. We got into a big argument. I ran off.” He looked down at his lap, where his hands were curled into fists. “I don’t know why he cares that I like boys as well as girls. It’s not as if anything will ever come out of it. Not with my father controlling every aspect of my life.”
Charles felt like he had been punched in the gut. Ghosts did not need to breathe, but he still felt like all the air had been sucked out of his body. Memories, ones he had worked hard to suppress, fought their way back to the surface of his mind like a boy drowning, ravenous for air. Memories of his own father, angry and bitter and mean.
The blonde boy’s eyes widened. “I am so sorry,” he breathed. “I know we just met and I totally just dumped that on you and-”
“It’s fine,” Charles put a hand on Adrien’s clenched fists. “Sometimes it’s better not to keep those things inside. Even if you end up telling them to a random ghost.”
“Nobody else knows,” Adrien pleaded. “Not even my best friend, Nino. I didn’t want him to know I had a crush on him at the beginning of the year. I’m afraid that everyone would react the way my father did. I know Nino’s kind and he isn’t like that, but-”
He faltered, eyes watering slightly. Charles felt a sharp pang in his chest at the other boy’s familiar struggle.
“But you can’t make yourself say it,” Charles murmured. “You think about your feelings for your best mate and you can’t get your father’s voice out of your head. You can’t imagine yourself ever being deserving of someone’s love like that. Especially not when you’re still trying to figure yourself all out.”
This time, Adrien was the one reaching out with a comforting hand. He smiled at Charles, understanding.
“It’s hard to show someone every part of you. Especially the parts that you don’t think are any good. The parts that’ll scare them away. But,” Adrien paused, making solemn eye contact. “Real friends would be there for you. If the situation were reversed, I know I would be there for Nino. No matter what. So maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad. Maybe you should tell your friend how you feel. Our fathers are only human, they shouldn’t be playing God.”
Charles swallowed, nodded.
Adrien stood up and brushed off his jacket.
“It was nice to see you,” He said with a grin. “Thank you for listening. I really appreciate it.”
“You too, mate,” Charles shook his hand again. “Maybe we’ll meet again?”
“Maybe,” Adrien turned and started to walk away, back to face the darkness, and the monster that created him.
As Charles was walking back to the hotel, he looked up and saw a billboard advertising a new perfume by the Agreste brand. An ad featuring the smiling face of Paris’ most famous teen model, Adrien Agreste.
Charles couldn’t help but notice how practiced and fake the smile looked.