Work Text:
– LONDON, 1994 –
Leather boots and leathery paws hit the wet tar of the streets of London as two boys ran through them, pursued by a large, snarling, and on-fire hellhound.
"Edwin!" Charles yelled to the boy in front of him, "what should… what should we do?"
"I don't know! The salt circle was supposed to work, I- we need to go back to the office!" he said through unneeded breaths.
"There!" Charles pointed to a nearby boutique, sure to have a mirror. The two veered off-course, and the hellhound barreled past.
Being the middle of the night, the boutique was locked and dark. And being ghosts, this did not matter to Charles and Edwin, who simply walked through the glass walls.
"I will never get used to that…" Charles said, shuddering. Edwin looked through his small and unbound spellbook, held together by staples and hope, until he found the right spell. He mumbled something in latin that Charles didn't understand, and the lights of the boutique suddenly flickered on. "Woah…" Charles breathed, "I'll never get used to that either…"
"It's only a simple energy spell, Charles, a novice could do it," Edwin remarked, secretly quite proud of himself, "I am a novice. With more practice I could have made the light myself!"
"Mate, you say that like it's nothing, it's magic!"
" Basic magic. Now come." and that was that. Charles had learned about three years ago not to push Edwin on things, after he had asked how he got to hell anyway and Edwin didn't talk to him for a day. So instead he looked around the boutique, with its glass chandeliers and ornate wallpaper, and quite curvy mannequins dressed in quite see-through underwear.
"Woah." Charles mumbled, again, and Edwin rolled his eyes.
"Do try not to get distracted, Charles." he said, as he placed his gloved hand on the mirror in the changing room. "Wouldn't want you transported someplace… unsavoury," he eyed the mannequins.
"I Won't," Charles lilted, "I'll just focus on you, yeah?"
"Very well then." Edwin sighed, and the two boys entered the mirror, one after the other.
– TWO DAYS AGO–
"So 'am goin' 'ome from the pub yeah, and 'am waitin' for ma taxi, when I see this mean dog-lookin fella, and what do I know, the bastard's on fire! An' 'ave gone what on earth is that! But it weren't of earth, were it? Nay, it were a bloody 'ell 'ound! Anyway, the wee blighter then runs at me as if t'wer Allen Wipper Wells, an' 'e leaps upon me like 'ave just confessed ma love, an' then 'e fuckin' eats me! Anyway, what 'am 'opin is, you two be rid of the bugger, keep ma mates safe, an' I can pass on to the great speak-easy in the sky." The man spoke quickly, and Edwin wrote the details into his casebook.
"Which pub?" Edwin glanced over the top of his notebook. The man scratched the back of his head,
"T'wer… The Black Dog. off Glasshouse Walk."
"Bit ironic," Charles laughed.
"Quite." Edwin said, "so, Mr Lawlor, there is the matter of payment…"
"Payment? I only died yesterday, 'ave hardly 'ad time to gather cash!"
"Yeah, I mean, a hellhound sounds pretty serious, right edwin? Maybe we should… do this one for free?" Charles said, lilting slightly.
"You mean pro bono? I suppose…"
"I love Bono." the man remarks.
"Indeed…" edwin sighed, "we shall take your case for free."
"Aw, thank you, really, I was so worried about ma mates, god bless, thank you lads," Mr Lawlor took off his hat and shook the two boys' hands quite thoroughly, his calloused hands weren't rough, but seemed like they might've been, if they had skin.
– THE PLAN –
The two boys emerged from the mirror, one after the other, and Edwin immediately took to searching for his demonology book. The office they emerged in was less of an office, and more of an abandoned building, with a sofa, a cupboard, and not much else. There were some books strewn about the place, mostly about magic, Edwin's collection, and some about sports, Charles' collection. There were also some murder mysteries around, though they were shared.
"Got it!" Edwin said, "the reason the banishment spell didn't work, you must shed blood," he explained.
"We did have blood though, a whole bag of it," Charles shuddered, remembering the tattoo parlour.
"Yes Charles, but it wasn't ours. We have to shed the blood ourselves, and then mix it with the salt."
"But… ghost's don't bleed." He said,
"Yes, that makes things more complicated. But if I remember correctly…" Edwin looks through the piles of books on the floor, and lifts a hefty, dark-purplish volume, the colour of wine gone wrong. He flicked through the pages, and found… "yes! Here it is, a spell to make ghosts bleed… oh. It also makes them able to feel. Not ideal, given we'll be fighting a hellhound, though it is temporary."
"Not to worry mate, I have that sword, yeah? I'll keep you untouched while you do your spell." Charles said, quite proud of himself.
"Thank you, Charles. Would you please pass the salt?"
– THE SPELL –
Edwin sat in a dark, dank alleyway, surrounded by a circle of salt. Charles paced in front of him, a curved sword tucked into his belt.
"You sure about this, Edwin?"
"Quite sure, Charles." He reassured him, and began to read from his book, a knife in hand, " Vas… minuo… cum amplius… " as Edwin read, he began to feel the cold pavement beneath him, his shirt touching his chest, the sweat beading on his forehead. He also felt… heat, touching the back of his neck. He turned around. "Charles…"
"Yeah, ma- oh shit !" as Charles turned to look at him, he saw the hellhound, black, massive, flaming, and right behind Edwin. "EDWIN!" he called, as he ran, skidding into the salt circle, and slashed the beast with his sword. It howled, and recoiled, then looked back at Charles, growling. "Hurry up, Eds!"
"Yes, right!" Edwin scrambled for the book, and continued reading, "ah… um… lapis… sintium… siccum… fontem flete !" as he called the last words, a bluish light shone from the salt, and suddenly, he could feel the pages in his hands.
"Woah…" Charles faltered, suddenly feeling the weight of the sword, "was it always this cold out?"
"What do you me- GAH!" The hellhound leapt towards them, leaping onto edwin and knocking the knife out of his hand, and the breath out of his chest. The beast's claws were sharp, and the ground was hard against his back, as he grabbed for his knife. "CHARLES!" he called,
"On it, mate!" Charles lunged at the flaming beast, slashing at its side with his sword. The hellhound turned and snarled, and lashed out at Charles' arm, cutting his wrist with its jagged teeth. "Bloody hell…" Charles groaned, and lunged for the beast again, this time cutting its jaw. It recoiled, withdrawing off Edwin, but standing on top of his knife. The salt runes fizzed where the hound's boiling blood touched it.
"Charles, cut me!" Shouted Edwin, reaching for Charles' sword.
"What?!"
"Quickly!" He yelled, and Charles sliced the palm of Edwin's hand with his bloodied blade. Edwin squeezed, and drops of dark, red blood dropped to the ground, mixing with the salt and hounds blood. It seemed to glow black. "Out!" He dragged Charles by his cut wrist, who winced and staggered from the pain.
The hellhound growled in the salt circle, all three's blood mixing with the runes and glowing an odd dark light. It barreled towards the boys, and they flinched, but the beast was stopped, mashing its cut snout into an invisible wall. It whined.
"Aw… it's kinda cute," Charles stammered through desperate breaths, "when it's not, y'know, trying to kill us."
Edwin squinted, "really?"
"Yeah, in like a… ugly, on fire sort of way."
"I hope you're not suggesting we keep it."
"Can we?" He said, much too excited
"No, Charles. Hellhounds are untamable beasts that are only ever amiable to demons. And look, it bit you!" Edwin lifted Charles' cut wrist with his own sliced hand. Their blood was sticky, and the wounds burned. Edwin's fingers, however, were soft. Pliable, dextrous.
"I can feel you," Charles chuckled, entwining their fingers.
"Indeed…"
"I wonder if we have our other senses back! What do I smell like?" Edwin laughed at that, but leaned in and smelled him.
"Blood and sweat." He said, curtly.
"Right… oh! But maybe we can taste!"
"I hope you're not asking me to lick you, Charles." He raised a brow. Charles snorted in laughter,
"No mate, but, I am taking you to get pizza. And ice cream. And spaghetti. And- oh my god. Have you ever had a moonpie?"
"I don't believe so," Edwin listened as Charles rambled about foods he has to try, playing with their fingers. Charles' fingers were cold, but his blood was warm. His jacket was scratchy, and his shirt was soft. His necklace was smooth and cool. Edwin hadn't felt anything since he got out of hell, and then it was all teeth and claws. Charles' soft skin was… nice.
"How long does this last anyway?" Charles asked, while fiddling with Edwin's tie.
"Hm? Oh, um… a couple of hours, I should say."
"Right, then we gotta make the most of it, c'mon!" He grabbed Edwin's wrist and began to walk off, but Edwin stayed put.
"Hold on a moment, Charles," Edwin turned towards the trapped hellhound, who was still snarling and whimpering, pawing at its nose, and spoke, " relinquo." The bloodied salt began to glow brighter, or darker, and the beast looked around, growling, panicked. The darkness grew stronger, and stronger, until the flaming hound was entirely engulfed, and when the shadows died down, it was gone. Edwin went to retrieve his knife. "Right then, pizza?"
– TRYING IT –
The two boys walked through the shining streets of London, the sunrise making the damp pavements look like gold. Their hands were entwined.
"So, what was your favourite?" Charles asked Edwin,
"Hm… the pizza was certainly nice, I can see why you insisted upon it," he replied
"I still can't believe you got Hawaiian, though."
"What's wrong with it?"
"Its unnatural!" Charles laughed, "fruit on pizza? It's supposed to be savoury." Edwin glanced at him.
"Charles, we are ghosts. Your 'unnatural' argument means nothing. Also, I thought it added a certain… complexity," he explained,
"You haven't tasted anything in 80 years, how are you suddenly a gourmand?" Charles teased,
"I like what I like." They walked on for a while longer. "What was your favourite?"
"Uh… probably the spaghetti. My mum used to make it every wednesday when i was alive, it wasn't as good as her's but, it was good," as he spoke, he rubbed his thumb on the back of Edwin's hand. They were nearly to the office. "There was… one other thing I wanted to try."
"And what might that be?"
"Um… do you remember… when I died?"
"Yes?" he wasn't sure what Charles was implying,
"Well, do remember I said… sorry, this is stupid," he cuts himself off, feeling a fool for even thinking of it.
"Oh, spit it out, Charles."
"Um…" Charles looked at his feet, "I said I'd miss kissing?" he glanced up, unsure of himself. Edwin froze. "Sorry, sorry, I knew it was dumb," he pulled his hands away, of course Edwin wouldn't want to kiss him. And now he probably wouldn't want to be friends, either. Stupid, stupid-
" Charles, " Edwin took his hands, "It's not stupid."
Charles stood dazed. Edwin wasn't sure what to do, so… he leaned closer. Charles leaned closer. They both leaned closer, and closer, and the gap was filled. It was warm. After five years of nothing, it was warm.
Edwin's lips were scratchy, dry from the cold air. His hair, however, was soft, as Charles ran his fingers through it. Edwin's collar was thick as Charles pulled it, The wall was hard against Charles' back when Edwin pressed him into it, and his chest was solid when it pushed against him. The sun, Edwin's breath, and his hands were all warm on Charles' face. As Charles' cold fingers pulled at Edwin's hair, a vibration went through them both, and then faded.
They both paused, and it was Charles who finally spoke, "what happened?"
"Uh…" Edwin gathered his thoughts, "it appears the spell has… faded."
Five years. Five years of nothing at all. You'd think they would be used to it, but nothing felt like a sharp knife. Edwin stepped back.
"We had better go home, I suppose." He turned, looking away from Charles.
"Oh. Yeah, yeah I guess," he stammered, touching his unfeeling lip.
"That was… nice." Edwin smiled. Charles smiled back, and they walked back to the office, saying nothing at all.
Though, Charles thought he had a new favourite.